The Librarian 7/
LotR
1815 words
NC17
Summery: Erestor = Erestor! w/ Glorfindel & Melpomean
Warnings: BDSM
Disclaimer: All LotR characters and settings are the exclusive property of the Tolkien estate. I do not have permission to use them.
Feedback: Oh yes, please.
For kharessa and machiavellian, Master Rumil IS NOT Rumil, Haldir's brother. Rumil means scribe.
There was a time when Glorfindel was all a certain young apprentice could think about. Hoped all day that he would run into him at his midnight meal in the Kitchen. Lingered overly long over his meal, waiting, wondering if Glorfindel would come in tonight. Tense anticipation melting into warm giddiness when he did. Despondent and irritable if he did not. Erestor knew that Glorfindel's company was an accident, that the great warrior regarded him as just an amusing elfling, but sometimes, after too much wine he imagined a glint in Glorfindel of something other than paternal attention. For one spring and summer Erestor lived teetering on the edge of obsession, wishing feverently he had the experience to seduce the Eldar. Or any experience for that matter.
While other elflings grew up frolicking in meadows and discovering the ins and outs of each other's bodies, Erestor grew up in his father's studio copying elfin literature to sell to human traders. He hadn't minded, as other elves paired off holding hands and melting into to wood, while he watched through dusty windows. He hadn't minded because there was time for that later, his father only needed his help for a season, then another, and then for ten – and what was a few decades in a lifespan that would stretch for thousands?
And then he met Master Rumil. And there was no more time left.
Master Rumil had come to his father's workshop to commission some prints for Elrond's Library. He was discussing costs and deadlines with Erestor's father when he stopped mid sentence and approached the young elf.
"This is fine work. Did you do this all yourself?"
Rumil leaned over; examining the page Erestor was working on. Erestor barely managed to answer, intimidated by this elf of Imladris' great house. Rumil asked him a few more questions about his work and then left the workshop. The next day Erestor's father told him he was to leave to become Rumil's apprentice. Erestor, past his majority by decades, but as green as any adolescent wood elf took up residence in the Last Homely House, and wished just once he had been taken by the hand and led into the wood so that he might have a clue as to how to approach Glorfindel.
*
Melpomean was not working on the canvases as expected. Instead he was bent over Erestor's desk, reading. He blushed when Erestor hobbled in, quickly ducking back to his own work. Erestor ignored him, picking up his brushes and began cleaning the top scroll. Work. When all else failed, he had always found comfort and peace in the work.
There are some things in the Library that make me happy, and Slaves mouth is one of them.
I discovered he responds to all pain, not just beatings and have been experimenting with different techniques. He can take more pain when he is aroused, and I have taken to making him stimulate himself before I add pain. It is interesting to watch as his responses are trained – he no longer needs to touch himself to become aroused before I beat him – just seeing the whip or cane in my hand is enough. It has become such an effective device that I...
"Um Master? May I ask you something?" Erestor looked down at his apprentice kneeling at his feet.
"Of course, Melpomean"
"Do you think I am ugly?" Erestor stared at his apprentice, wondering where someone so fair could have gotten such an idea.
"No, of course not, you are very beautiful".
"But perhaps not the type of elf that one would want as a lover" Melpomean persisted.
"Gods. Of course you are. Any elf would be proud to have you as their own". What was wrong with everyone today? He bent back over the diary.
"Did you love Master Rumil?" Was Melpomean intent on confounding him?
"I mean, I don't mean to pry. It's just I knew he was your lover and I... I..."
"You knew he was my lover?"
"Of course, everyone knows that! It's common knowledge. But see I thought, well I thought being your apprentice that you would, you know, be with me. 'Tis customary, I had heard, but you've never shown any interest and I thought maybe it was because you thought me too undesirable or were still in love with Master Rumil".
Melpomean licked his lips nervously, wetting red, and something clicked inside Erestor, a tickle that warned him he was missing something important. Feeling unbalanced he watched Melpomean for a few moments longer, enjoying the tremble that seemed to vibrate from his toes to his pointy ears. In one moment Erestor was the most powerful Elf in Arda, controlling the sun, the moon and the breath that was caught in his apprentice's throat. Then he reached down and pulled him up by his chin. He stared into Melpomean, gleaning what he was really asking.
"You've been reading the Orc scrolls". It wasn't a question, but Melpomean nodded never the less.
"I... sorry master but the canvases I've been restoring I needed to understand"
Melpomean bent down picking up his work and laid it in front of Erestor. Erestor stared. The scrolls he had given Melpomean were no longer black and indistinguishable. No, Melpomean had done an excellent job of freeing their images from the soot and stain that hid them. Images of Slave. Naked. Posed. With what appeared to be horribly painful devices attached to him and in at least the top drawing in him.
"You are aroused by this". Again, not a question. Melpomean blushed but met Erestor's eyes and nodded.
"And you want to be mine? As this elf belongs to his Master?"
Another nod. And that tickle that was spinning inside his head stopped as everything fell into place. The feelings he had when reading Glorfindel's diary, when reading the Librarian's, the triumph and yes, the gratification he had felt when Glorfindel blushed helplessly under Elladan's hand, the way his sex responded when Melpomean crawled across the floor on his knees. Whatever this was, for he could still not name it, it felt right. He wanted more. He smiled at Melpomean.
"So be it. Take off your robes and kneel in the center of the floor".
Uncertainty in Melpomaen's eyes, he glanced at the door. He looked at Erestor who stared coldly back. 'Oh my, this is fun' he thought, biting back a grin.
"Something wrong with your hearing?" A blush flared across Melpomaen's features. Erestor stopped trying to hide his grin.
Melpomean unwrapped himself from his robes, carefully folding them and knelt as instructed. Erestor walked around slowly noting how the blush colored the elf's entire body. Standing behind him he barked orders.
"Back straight, chest arched, neck extended. Arms behind you, No, like this. Spread your knees more. Better"
He stood back. It was the pose described in Glorfindel's diary, created in glorious flesh. So tempting.
"You will begin the day in this position. You will stay like that until I give you instructions that you will carry out and then return to this position. Do you understand?"
"Yes Master" like music.
Erestor leaned forward and licked Melpomaen's neck and jaw, pleased with the immediate reaction he saw in his apprentice's sex. Then, because he could, he bit him. Melpomean flinched, but his body responded with an affirmative hardness. Perfect. Erestor sat back at his desk, leaving Melpomean struggling with his composure and picked up his work. He couldn't concentrate, instead pretended to work as Melpomean divide his attention between Erestor and the Library door. Erestor wondered which of them would be more embarrassed if someone wandered in, but watching Melpomean struggle with the potential of exposure made the risk more than worth it.
"Stroke yourself, but do not come". Another blush.
Erestor wasn't sure where the inspiration came from, but decided to just go with it. Melpomean moaned a little as he touched himself, short twisting tugs. He was so beautiful, lashes lowered, head back and Gods it had been so long. He walked over, freeing his own stiff member from his robe.
"Take me in your mouth".
Melpomaen's eyes flew open at that. Happiness? Certainly eager as he leaned forward into Erestor. Hungry and sloppy wet as he sucked as much of him as he could into his throat. Sucking harder, looking up for confirmation that Erestor wasn't going to give.
"Do better" he urged, and Erestor almost laughed at himself.
He could count the number of times he'd had another's mouth. He certainly was no expert in technique. But Melpomean didn't need to know that. Driven by the words or by some intangible other motivation, Melpomean did do better, slicking his tongue wetly across Erestor's head then tonguing wide strokes across his shaft. He nibbled, and then let his teeth graze delicately as he swallowed his Master whole.
Erestor felt his knees unsteady and braced himself by grabbing a handful of Melpomaen's hair. Then the urge to just thrust was too great to resist, and why should he try? Melpomean asked to be his, wanted to be used as a slave. He jacked in, felt Melpomean choke around. Choke then moan eagerly, wiping away any vestige of restraint Erestor still felt. He pushed in mercilessly, using Melpomaen's mouth as little more than a willing hole until, Gods felt it and
With more self-control he knew he had pulled out. Out and stroking, wrenching and shooting himself across Melpomaen's lips, cheek, even his eyes.
Erestor stared. He had no idea anything could be as beautiful as his, no HIS apprentice marked, stained with seed, desperate with arousal, kneeling and just waiting for his word. No idea that he would find it so erotic. He leaned forward and tasted himself, licking a clean trail across Melpomaen's cheek.
"Clean yourself up, taste me, and I might have more use for you" Eager, Melpomean swiped Erestor's seed from his face, dipping his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean. Erestor stopped him, raising him up to standing and kissed him hard on the mouth. So beautiful. He snaked his hand around, gripping Melpomaen's erection hard.
"I want you to come for me" Watching him, and this too made Melpomean blush, squirm a little into Erestor's relentless fist. Then groan as he pulsed into Erestor's palm, going limp in his embrace. Erestor let him rest for a moment until he felt Melpomean begin to stir.
"Lick it up" and still a little shaky Melpomean dropped to his knees and began cleaning Erestor's hand with trembling elegance.
"Not bad, elfling. Now finish your work".
Erestor picked up the restored canvases the Melpomean had already finished, examining the devices. There was a blacksmith in the village that owed him a favor.
NC17
Summery: Erestor = Erestor! w/ Glorfindel & Melpomean
Warnings: BDSM
Disclaimer: All LotR characters and settings are the exclusive property of the Tolkien estate. I do not have permission to use them.
Feedback: Oh yes, please.
For kharessa and machiavellian, Master Rumil IS NOT Rumil, Haldir's brother. Rumil means scribe.
There was a time when Glorfindel was all a certain young apprentice could think about. Hoped all day that he would run into him at his midnight meal in the Kitchen. Lingered overly long over his meal, waiting, wondering if Glorfindel would come in tonight. Tense anticipation melting into warm giddiness when he did. Despondent and irritable if he did not. Erestor knew that Glorfindel's company was an accident, that the great warrior regarded him as just an amusing elfling, but sometimes, after too much wine he imagined a glint in Glorfindel of something other than paternal attention. For one spring and summer Erestor lived teetering on the edge of obsession, wishing feverently he had the experience to seduce the Eldar. Or any experience for that matter.
While other elflings grew up frolicking in meadows and discovering the ins and outs of each other's bodies, Erestor grew up in his father's studio copying elfin literature to sell to human traders. He hadn't minded, as other elves paired off holding hands and melting into to wood, while he watched through dusty windows. He hadn't minded because there was time for that later, his father only needed his help for a season, then another, and then for ten – and what was a few decades in a lifespan that would stretch for thousands?
And then he met Master Rumil. And there was no more time left.
Master Rumil had come to his father's workshop to commission some prints for Elrond's Library. He was discussing costs and deadlines with Erestor's father when he stopped mid sentence and approached the young elf.
"This is fine work. Did you do this all yourself?"
Rumil leaned over; examining the page Erestor was working on. Erestor barely managed to answer, intimidated by this elf of Imladris' great house. Rumil asked him a few more questions about his work and then left the workshop. The next day Erestor's father told him he was to leave to become Rumil's apprentice. Erestor, past his majority by decades, but as green as any adolescent wood elf took up residence in the Last Homely House, and wished just once he had been taken by the hand and led into the wood so that he might have a clue as to how to approach Glorfindel.
*
Melpomean was not working on the canvases as expected. Instead he was bent over Erestor's desk, reading. He blushed when Erestor hobbled in, quickly ducking back to his own work. Erestor ignored him, picking up his brushes and began cleaning the top scroll. Work. When all else failed, he had always found comfort and peace in the work.
There are some things in the Library that make me happy, and Slaves mouth is one of them.
I discovered he responds to all pain, not just beatings and have been experimenting with different techniques. He can take more pain when he is aroused, and I have taken to making him stimulate himself before I add pain. It is interesting to watch as his responses are trained – he no longer needs to touch himself to become aroused before I beat him – just seeing the whip or cane in my hand is enough. It has become such an effective device that I...
"Um Master? May I ask you something?" Erestor looked down at his apprentice kneeling at his feet.
"Of course, Melpomean"
"Do you think I am ugly?" Erestor stared at his apprentice, wondering where someone so fair could have gotten such an idea.
"No, of course not, you are very beautiful".
"But perhaps not the type of elf that one would want as a lover" Melpomean persisted.
"Gods. Of course you are. Any elf would be proud to have you as their own". What was wrong with everyone today? He bent back over the diary.
"Did you love Master Rumil?" Was Melpomean intent on confounding him?
"I mean, I don't mean to pry. It's just I knew he was your lover and I... I..."
"You knew he was my lover?"
"Of course, everyone knows that! It's common knowledge. But see I thought, well I thought being your apprentice that you would, you know, be with me. 'Tis customary, I had heard, but you've never shown any interest and I thought maybe it was because you thought me too undesirable or were still in love with Master Rumil".
Melpomean licked his lips nervously, wetting red, and something clicked inside Erestor, a tickle that warned him he was missing something important. Feeling unbalanced he watched Melpomean for a few moments longer, enjoying the tremble that seemed to vibrate from his toes to his pointy ears. In one moment Erestor was the most powerful Elf in Arda, controlling the sun, the moon and the breath that was caught in his apprentice's throat. Then he reached down and pulled him up by his chin. He stared into Melpomean, gleaning what he was really asking.
"You've been reading the Orc scrolls". It wasn't a question, but Melpomean nodded never the less.
"I... sorry master but the canvases I've been restoring I needed to understand"
Melpomean bent down picking up his work and laid it in front of Erestor. Erestor stared. The scrolls he had given Melpomean were no longer black and indistinguishable. No, Melpomean had done an excellent job of freeing their images from the soot and stain that hid them. Images of Slave. Naked. Posed. With what appeared to be horribly painful devices attached to him and in at least the top drawing in him.
"You are aroused by this". Again, not a question. Melpomean blushed but met Erestor's eyes and nodded.
"And you want to be mine? As this elf belongs to his Master?"
Another nod. And that tickle that was spinning inside his head stopped as everything fell into place. The feelings he had when reading Glorfindel's diary, when reading the Librarian's, the triumph and yes, the gratification he had felt when Glorfindel blushed helplessly under Elladan's hand, the way his sex responded when Melpomean crawled across the floor on his knees. Whatever this was, for he could still not name it, it felt right. He wanted more. He smiled at Melpomean.
"So be it. Take off your robes and kneel in the center of the floor".
Uncertainty in Melpomaen's eyes, he glanced at the door. He looked at Erestor who stared coldly back. 'Oh my, this is fun' he thought, biting back a grin.
"Something wrong with your hearing?" A blush flared across Melpomaen's features. Erestor stopped trying to hide his grin.
Melpomean unwrapped himself from his robes, carefully folding them and knelt as instructed. Erestor walked around slowly noting how the blush colored the elf's entire body. Standing behind him he barked orders.
"Back straight, chest arched, neck extended. Arms behind you, No, like this. Spread your knees more. Better"
He stood back. It was the pose described in Glorfindel's diary, created in glorious flesh. So tempting.
"You will begin the day in this position. You will stay like that until I give you instructions that you will carry out and then return to this position. Do you understand?"
"Yes Master" like music.
Erestor leaned forward and licked Melpomaen's neck and jaw, pleased with the immediate reaction he saw in his apprentice's sex. Then, because he could, he bit him. Melpomean flinched, but his body responded with an affirmative hardness. Perfect. Erestor sat back at his desk, leaving Melpomean struggling with his composure and picked up his work. He couldn't concentrate, instead pretended to work as Melpomean divide his attention between Erestor and the Library door. Erestor wondered which of them would be more embarrassed if someone wandered in, but watching Melpomean struggle with the potential of exposure made the risk more than worth it.
"Stroke yourself, but do not come". Another blush.
Erestor wasn't sure where the inspiration came from, but decided to just go with it. Melpomean moaned a little as he touched himself, short twisting tugs. He was so beautiful, lashes lowered, head back and Gods it had been so long. He walked over, freeing his own stiff member from his robe.
"Take me in your mouth".
Melpomaen's eyes flew open at that. Happiness? Certainly eager as he leaned forward into Erestor. Hungry and sloppy wet as he sucked as much of him as he could into his throat. Sucking harder, looking up for confirmation that Erestor wasn't going to give.
"Do better" he urged, and Erestor almost laughed at himself.
He could count the number of times he'd had another's mouth. He certainly was no expert in technique. But Melpomean didn't need to know that. Driven by the words or by some intangible other motivation, Melpomean did do better, slicking his tongue wetly across Erestor's head then tonguing wide strokes across his shaft. He nibbled, and then let his teeth graze delicately as he swallowed his Master whole.
Erestor felt his knees unsteady and braced himself by grabbing a handful of Melpomaen's hair. Then the urge to just thrust was too great to resist, and why should he try? Melpomean asked to be his, wanted to be used as a slave. He jacked in, felt Melpomean choke around. Choke then moan eagerly, wiping away any vestige of restraint Erestor still felt. He pushed in mercilessly, using Melpomaen's mouth as little more than a willing hole until, Gods felt it and
With more self-control he knew he had pulled out. Out and stroking, wrenching and shooting himself across Melpomaen's lips, cheek, even his eyes.
Erestor stared. He had no idea anything could be as beautiful as his, no HIS apprentice marked, stained with seed, desperate with arousal, kneeling and just waiting for his word. No idea that he would find it so erotic. He leaned forward and tasted himself, licking a clean trail across Melpomaen's cheek.
"Clean yourself up, taste me, and I might have more use for you" Eager, Melpomean swiped Erestor's seed from his face, dipping his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean. Erestor stopped him, raising him up to standing and kissed him hard on the mouth. So beautiful. He snaked his hand around, gripping Melpomaen's erection hard.
"I want you to come for me" Watching him, and this too made Melpomean blush, squirm a little into Erestor's relentless fist. Then groan as he pulsed into Erestor's palm, going limp in his embrace. Erestor let him rest for a moment until he felt Melpomean begin to stir.
"Lick it up" and still a little shaky Melpomean dropped to his knees and began cleaning Erestor's hand with trembling elegance.
"Not bad, elfling. Now finish your work".
Erestor picked up the restored canvases the Melpomean had already finished, examining the devices. There was a blacksmith in the village that owed him a favor.