Part 5 - Give and Take

Posted: May 2004
Author: Khylaren

*****

Galathil's head fell back against his shoulders, his hair sweeping against his buttocks. His hands rested against his thighs, alternately clenching and unclenching as he struggled to hold back. Erestor knelt between his thighs, his hands clasped dutifully at the nape of his neck as his mouth worked Galathil's shaft. His nude body glistened with a light sheen of oil and sweat, displaying the flex and play of his muscles as he bent to his task. The ends of his unbound hair tickled the tops of Galathil's feet as it swayed with his movement.

"Ai," Galathil groaned helplessly. He buried his hands in Erestor's hair, his hips rising and falling off the bed as he began to thrust forward into his lover's warm mouth. His eyes closed, his body tightening as his release took him. With a loud cry he came, his body shuddering as he spilled his essence deep into his lover's throat.

Galathil fell back on the bed, his body twitching with the aftershocks of his release, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His breathing gradually slowed, and he opened his eyes.

Erestor still knelt at his feet, his arousal jutting proudly against the smooth, oiled skin of his stomach. Pearly drops of moisture were visible, gathered at the tip. It was difficult not to drop to his knees beside his lover and taste him, to roll Erestor's flavor on his tongue and savor it.

Instead, Galathil rose to his feet, his legs trembling slightly. "On the bed," he commanded softly. "Now!"

His lover rose to his feet gracefully, his hands still clasped behind his neck, and knelt on the bed.

"Legs further apart, my lord," Galathil ordered. "Spread them wide."

Lean muscles gleamed, straining as Erestor complied, his hair falling forward and into his face. Galathil gathered the silken mass in one hand and knotted it around his fingers, pulling Erestor's head back and exposing the long line of his neck.

"Look at me, my lord," Galathil whispered, shivering when Erestor's heated gaze met his. "You are mine."

"Yes, ernilen," Erestor replied quietly.

"Your pleasure is mine to give and mine to withhold, is it not?" Galathil continued, holding Erestor's gaze. To his delight, he saw the finest tremor wrack his lover's body.

"Yes, ernilen."

He was gaining confidence in this game. "Touch yourself, my lord," Galathil whispered. His other hand slid slowly down Erestor's spine to rest on the curve of his lover's buttocks. "Show me how you would pleasure yourself." The tips of his fingers, slick from the oil on his lover's skin, brushed against Erestor's opening.

Erestor groaned softly, his mouth falling open as Galathil pressed a single finger inside his body. His hand moved from the back of his neck to grasp his length, squeezing the tip firmly, before sliding down to the base.

"Aye," Galathil whispered, his lips burning a trail across the back of Erestor's neck. "Show me, melethron." His finger moved slowly, sliding in and out of his lover's tight heat. "Tell me what you want."

"More," Erestor breathed, his eyes closing as his fist moved over his flesh, pumping it in long, fluid strokes.

Galathil captured the tip of Erestor's ear with his lips, sliding his tongue over the point. "More?" he murmured, pressing another finger inside. "I will give you all you can take, my lord."

Erestor gasped softly as his breathing became more ragged. Galathil added a third finger, working it into his lover's body, watching the tension in Erestor's frame as his pleasure built. He pressed his lips to Erestor's ear, feeling his arousal twitch and harden once more from the excitement of it. "More?"

A low, keening moan spilled from Erestor's lips, his eyes closing tightly. "Aye," he managed, his hand moving almost roughly over his length. "More. Fill me, ernilen."

"As you wish," Galathil whispered, nearly undone by the sight before him. A fourth finger was added, and Erestor shuddered against him, groaning. Galathil felt the muscles flutter against his fingers, buried deep in his lover's body, felt Erestor take what he gave him willingly. He thrust, working his fingers in opposition to his lover's stroking, his own arousal now throbbing almost painfully with need.

Erestor cried out, his whole body stiffening as his release shattered through him. Galathil felt him spasm around his fingers as he watched Erestor's milky seed spill over his lover's fist.

He did not wait for his lover's trembles to subside. Pulling his fingers from Erestor's quivering body, he pushed the Noldo onto his back, gripping his legs behind the knees. With one fluid thrust, he entered Erestor's well-prepared body, a low groan of pleasure escaping him.

Galathil's eyes closed, surrendering to the bliss he felt when he was sheathed in Erestor's body. It was a rare gift his lover gave to him, to be taken thus, and Galathil savored each soft gasp, each moan that spilled from Erestor's lips. His fingers gripped the soft skin behind the Noldo's knees tightly, almost bruising, knowing well the type of caress that would please Erestor best. He thrust forward, burying his shaft to the base, hearing his lover's soft, breathless groan like the sweetest of endearments. He stilled for a moment, his own breathing coming raggedly, feeling the steady pulse and throb of his shaft against the silken heat of Erestor's passage.

"Is it enough?" he ground out, beginning to thrust, withdrawing almost completely before filling Erestor again.

The Noldo's dark eyes were closed against him, his lithe body taut, back nearly arching off the mattress as he struggled to meet Galathil's thrusts. "Harder," he whispered. "Take me harder, ernilen." Erestor's eyes opened his dark gaze burned with lust.

Galathil felt the heat of Erestor's eyes almost sear him on him as he endeavored to comply, his hips fairly slamming against his lover's body as he thrust into him with abandon. His pleasure built deliriously with each driving thrust, lost to the sensations, the exquisite pleasure of mastering the one who mastered him. Erestor cried out beneath him, and Galathil felt his passage constrict around his length almost painfully, the Noldo's body shuddering with his release. With a low growl, Galathil thrust home, burying his shaft in Erestor's body, his own release leaving him breathless and utterly spent.

Gasping and trembling from the intensity of his passion, Galathil collapsed against his lover, his hands releasing their bruising grip on Erestor's legs to wrap around his body. He felt Erestor's arms encircle him, holding him close, and felt his lover press a kiss against his hair.

Their harsh and ragged breathing gradually slowed, their thudding heartbeats returned to normal, and Galathil felt the peace of reverie begin to descend on him. He pushed against it, rising up on his elbow to look down at his lover.

"We are a mess, melethron," Galathil said, smiling down at Erestor. "We should bathe before retiring, or the maids will have a fit upon seeing the sheets."

A soft chuckle escaped Erestor and he nodded. "Aye, ernilen. That is a sound plan, and a welcome one."

After their bath, Galathil curled next to Erestor on the bed, loving the feel of his lover's skin against his. He could tell from the slow, even sound of Erestor's breathing and by the relaxed state of his lover's limbs that the Noldo had succumbed. If he could see Erestor's lovely eyes, he knew they would be glazed in dreams.

Though he had been weary earlier, he was not quite ready to surrender to reverie. Instead, he was content to lie beside his lover and listen to the soft sound of his breathing. Something in the back of his mind troubled him, but he could not quite form it into a complete thought. It lingered there, teasing him, but he was too weary and too satisfied to be overly concerned by it. Eventually, his thoughts quieted, and at last he surrendered to the rest his body craved.

~ * ~

Galathil decided it would be best to avoid being alone with Lindir, and thereby avoid the temptation of yielding once more to the lovely bard's charms. He had tasted what Lindir offered, found it pleasurable indeed, but his heart belonged to Erestor. He did not wish to confuse himself further. Sooner or later, and he desperately hoped it was sooner, Erestor would realize that Galathil's love for him was not the naïve, blind trust of a pupil for his tutor.

He threw himself into his studies; when he was not practicing his swordplay and archery with the guard, he was kneeling for Erestor, learning ways to show his lover the depths of his feelings. His buttocks were constantly tender from the crop or the strap, and on those rare, delicious occasions, his lover's hand. He had learned to crave the heat of the strap, the feel of his clothes rubbing against the tender skin a constant reminder of Erestor's possession.

Lindir, however, became a constant source of confusion for him. His body could not easily forget Lindir's touch, no matter how hard he tried, so he avoided the minstrel as much as he could. Since that day in the forest, they had only shared a few words, nothing more. Galathil could not truly answer whether he was relieved or disappointed in this.

Nearly two weeks had passed since his picnic with Lindir when he stopped before Erestor's study and knocked on the door, holding the tray with their luncheon in his free hand.

At Erestor's command to enter, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and brought the tray to his lover's desk.

Erestor looked up from his work with a welcoming smile, rising halfway from his seat to kiss Galathil tenderly. "Hannon chen, ernilen," he said, resuming his seat. He held Galathil's gaze a moment and sighed. "I am glad you brought lunch, for I lost track of the time."

"Do you wish to postpone our session?" Galathil asked, though he hoped the answer would be ‘no'.

"No, ernilen," he said with a knowing smile. "Though, I have much to do this afternoon, and will most likely be working late into the evening. I must finish this letter to Lord Celeborn for Lord Elrond's approval, as well as organize the trip to Lothlórien with all its details." The Noldo sighed again, frowning as he poured a cup of tea for them both. "I am leaving at dawn tomorrow with an escort, Galathil. Lord Elrond wishes for me to place this missive in Celeborn's hands and be ready to answer any questions the Lord may have."

Galathil sat in the chair across from Erestor, wincing slightly as his tender buttocks came into contact with the hard wood. He took a sip of his tea, trying desperately to quell his unhappiness at Erestor's words. "How long will you be gone, my Lord?"

"Nearly a month, ernilen, possibly longer, depending upon how things progress," Erestor replied, looking weary.

"Can I not accompany you, melethron?" Galathil asked quietly, cradling his cup with both hands. "Please. I do not wish to be parted from you that long." He bit his lip as Erestor's expression smoothed, taking on the familiar and utterly neutral façade.

"No, Galathil," Erestor replied quietly. "This is not a trip for pleasure. As much as I would enjoy having you at my side and in my bed in Lórien, I cannot afford the distraction."

Galathil dropped his gaze to his cup and nodded. "I understand, my lord," he replied. "I will miss you greatly while you are gone."

"Will you?" Erestor murmured, so softly Galathil almost missed it. He raised his eyes, opening his mouth to speak, when his lover shook his head. "No words, Galathil. We have only a little time before I must return to my task." He rose to his feet gracefully and he gestured for Galathil to rise as well. "Disrobe, ernilen."

His arousal hardened almost immediately at his lover's words. Fingers trembling with anticipation, he peeled his clothing away, pausing long enough to fold it neatly, before turning his attention to Erestor.

Erestor regarded him intensely for a moment, as if memorizing every detail of Galathil's face and form. "Turn and grip the desk, ernilen. Feet apart."

Galathil fell into the familiar position, his arousal throbbing in response. He braced his arms, hands gripping the edge of Erestor's desk, and waited breathlessly. He felt the warm touch of Erestor's hands glide down his back before coming to rest on his buttocks and shivered in anticipation. His lover's mouth pressed heatedly against his ear.

"I will not see you for a while, ernilen," Erestor said quietly. "I would give you something that you will not quickly forget. Is that what you wish?"

"Aye, my lord," Galathil whispered, licking his lips. "Please."

Erestor's soft chuckle warmed his neck. "Very well, ernilen." He left Galathil for a moment, and the prince heard the familiar sound of the cupboard being opened, before Erestor returned to his side. Something cool and leathery tickled his backside a moment, tracing the cleft between his buttocks lightly.

"This is a flail, ernilen," Erestor said, bringing the object into Galathil's view. A long rod, similar to a crop was gripped in his lover's hand. The end of it was decorated in several, thin strips of leather, each about the width of two of his fingers. "I wish to mark you," Erestor murmured. "Will you allow me this pleasure, ernilen?"

Galathil tried to imagine the way those thin, long strips of leather would feel against his skin and shuddered, his body tightening in expectancy. "What…" he lost his voice momentarily, licked his lips, and tried again. "What will it do?"

Erestor slid the flail down Galathil's arm, across his ribs, and over the small of his back. "It will leave the most beautiful welts, ernilen," he crooned softly. "Such lovely stripes to decorate your golden skin. Its sting is more fierce than the crop, less bruising than my hand or strap, and the heat of it lingers." His tongue flicked out, teasing the tip of Galathil's ear. "You will be quite sore when I am through."

The leather straps caressed his backside teasingly, almost tickling him, and Galathil quivered, sucking in his breath.

"One thing more, pen-velui," Erestor said quietly, his voice utterly mild. "If it becomes to much for you to bear, you must tell me. This is more than you have ever experienced before." His hand squeezed Galathil's buttocks gently. "I do not expect you to outlast the strength of my arm," he added with a low chuckle.

Galathil nodded, closing his eyes, and braced himself for the first, stinging caress of the flail. It was not as bad as he expected, stinging, yes, with a lingering warmth that grew with each, firm stroke. A fine sweat broke from him, and he could hear his lover's breathing, calm and steady, even as his own breathing became quickly ragged. A low sob escaped him as the heat in his buttocks swelled, and he struggled not to flinch now as the lashes licked at his skin. He waited for it to end, both dreading and desiring it, but Erestor's arm never seemed to tire in its ceaseless work. Not an inch on his buttocks was spared, and Galathil wondered how he would be able to sit that evening for supper.

The blows came quicker now, in a steady rhythm that had him groaning each time the leather punished his flesh. Through it all, his arousal never withered, never softened, but seemed to throb in counterpart with the throbbing of his buttocks. He was beyond controlling his breathless sobs, tasting his own tears as they spilled into his gasping mouth. It was too much, not enough, he wanted it to end, he wanted it to go on forever. With each blow he gave himself to Erestor; gûr, rhaw, and faer.

Erestor landed a blow just on the curve of his buttocks that made him cry out, body twisting away. He bit his lip, holding back his pleading words, wanting to give his lover as much as he could. The straps licked over his skin, feeling like flames now, and with a shuddering cry, Galathil broke.

"Please, Erestor." The words spilled from his lips even as he buried his head in his arm, cheeks burning in shame for giving in to the pain.

The whistling sound of the flail halted, and Galathil felt the lightest of touches against his punished buttocks. A plaintive whimper escaped him at the touch, his whole body quivered, flinching away.

"Very good, ernilen," Erestor crooned softly. "You did much better than I expected." His hands cupped Galathil's face tenderly, his thumbs wiping the tears that stained his cheeks.

Galathil felt his heart swell at Erestor's loving praise, and moaned when his lover's mouth touched his. He poured his heart into the kiss, trying without words to show Erestor the depths of his feelings for him. Erestor drew back finally, and gave him a pleased look.

"On your knees, ernilen, thighs apart," he commanded softly.

"Aye, my lord," Galathil whispered, moving as gracefully as he could to comply. He gasped when his heels touched his backside, blinking back tears as he positioned himself to Erestor's wishes.

Erestor perched on the edge of his desk, adjusting his robes carefully. "Touch yourself, ernilen. I want to see you come for me now."

Galathil groaned at his lover's soft command, moving his hand over his weeping length in long, sure strokes. He gathered the moisture from the tip in his palm and spread it over his shaft, easing his strokes with the slippery fluid. He closed his eyes, his pleasure building quickly, and knew he would not last very long. The sound of Erestor's robes and the soft brush of them against his thighs made him open his eyes.

"Pleasure me with your mouth, ernilen," Erestor purred, pulling his robes open to expose his length. "Swallow me."

Galathil opened his mouth obediently, his body thrilling at the taste of his lover against his tongue. He felt Erestor's hand press against the back of his neck and obediently stilled, allowing his lover to control his movements. His hand stroked his shaft in slower movements, though his body trembled with his impending release.

Erestor groaned, thrusting into Galathil's mouth, withdrawing almost wholly before sliding it deep between his lips again. Galathil's body tightened, and he moaned wantonly around Erestor's length, his release claiming him as his lover claimed his mouth. The vibration of his moans made Erestor cry out softly, his hips settling into a slow, pumping rhythm. His throat was filled again and again, his lips feeling almost bruised by the velvet hardness of Erestor's shaft as it slid between them. He closed his eyes, moaning once more, loving the feel of his lover's hand against his neck and the thick length filling his mouth. Erestor's breathing grew ragged, his low moans coming more frequently, and he felt the shaft give a warning pulse in his throat, almost seeming to swell against his tongue. His lover gave a deep groan, and his mouth was filled with Erestor's essence. He swallowed rapidly, the salty sweet taste of it lingering on his tongue.

His lover thrust forward one last time, burying his twitching length in Galathil's throat, holding him by the press of his hand on the back of his neck. Erestor's breath came in harsh gasps, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his release. Galathil felt his eyes water as he struggled to breathe around the thickness in his throat, his nose pressed into the soft curls of Erestor's groin.

Finally, Erestor released him, drawing away reluctantly, and Galathil sucked in his breath in a low gasp.

"Melin chen, Galathil," Erestor murmured, running his thumb over the prince's swollen lips. "I shall miss you greatly while I am away."

Galathil watched his lover straighten his robes, feeling sore and pleasantly weary. He waited patiently, though his thighs ached from kneeling and his buttocks throbbed against his heels.

"Get dressed, ernilen," Erestor commanded him with a rueful smile. "Though I would keep you thus for the rest of the day, unfortunately, I have things that need my attention. Go and bathe and take some rest. I hope to see you this evening."

"Yes, my lord," Galathil replied, rising to his feet. He dressed slowly, wincing as the material of his leggings slid over his abused flesh. If he took any rest at all, it would be laying on his stomach, for certain. He allowed himself a small smile at the thought. He would be sore for many days, a constant and tangible reminder of his lover.

He turned to leave, and Erestor stopped him, pulling him easily into his embrace and kissing him soundly before releasing him.

"Melin chen, Erestor," Galathil murmured, before moving away. His lover gave him a brief smile, before he turned to his work. He did not look up again as Galathil closed the door.

*****

previous | Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Khylaren