Scruffy And Mirkwood

Scruffy And Mirkwood

Posted: November 2004
Title: Scruffy and Mirkwood
Author: Tindulaith
Type: FCHet
Characters: Aragorn/OFC, Legolas/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer : I do not own Aragorn or Legolas, but I do like to play with them. I am receiving no monetary benefits from this story, only my own perverse pleasure.

Summary: Aragorn and Legolas chained and tortured...or are they?

*****

Aragorn took another shuddering breath and winced at the pain that accompanied that necessary indulgence. The deep, raking slashes across his chest, reminders of her sharp fingernails, burned with each breath he took and his arms ached from being stretched above his head. The constant throbbing of his wrists as the leather bindings bit into his skin matched his heartbeat as that organ labored to keep blood flowing through his battered and beaten body.

The pain he could endure, it was the pleasure that would drive him to madness.

The Elf's body hung behind him, bound as he was, his graceful hands twisted and pulled above his golden head. His slender back rubbed against the ranger's body and he could feel the hot, slippery blood against his skin. She had beaten the Elf first. Warning him that should he cry out, the ranger would be beaten next and Legolas had not made a sound. In her anger and frustration, she had very nearly whipped him into unconsciousness, yet he could hear the Elf's ragged breathing.

Tied as they were, he could not see Legolas' face, nor his body, but he had heard the whip's biting sting each time she had struck the Elf's flesh; heard him gasp as he bit into his lip to keep from crying out - all to save him from being beaten as well. But it had been for naught, for she had tired of the Elf and had turned to him.

She had beaten and clawed his chest, his legs, bitten his lip and neck, but he had not given her the satisfaction of breaking him. The pain he could endure and after a time she had ceased tormenting him; telling him only that she would return to continue his punishment and return she had. But she had not struck him with her whip, instead she had teased him with her mouth, warning him should he cry out his pleasure, the Elf would again be beaten. And his body had betrayed him. Betrayed the Elf, for he could not hold back the agonized cry as her lips sucked at his manhood and brought him to the brink of ecstasy. As soon as that aroused cry escaped his lips, her mouth withdrew from him and dazed, he looked down to see her raise the whip and smile.

"No!" he cried. "Do not strike him, I beg you." But she only laughed and moved from his sight.

The cracking snap of the leather thongs slapped into the skin of the Elf behind him and he felt Legolas' body jerk against his back and his backside and he heard the Elf moan.

"Please," Aragorn cried again. "Beat me instead."

She moved back into his line of vision, twisting the leather strips around her knuckles until only the leather handle was gripped within her hand. She slapped the hard end against the inside of Aragorn's thigh and he winced and then she slowly drew the leather handle up the inside of his leg. His body stiffened and he threw his head back, biting down upon his lip to keep from crying out.

She raised the handle until it met the juncture of his leg and the base of his shaft and his eyes closed, wanting her to touch him again, but knowing that if she did he would not be able to stop the moan from escaping his throat. Suddenly his head was jerked downward as her hands fisted into his hair and she crushed his mouth to hers, biting until blood seeped from his lower lip. She ran a delicate fingertip over his bleeding lip, wiping the blood away and then she slowly drew her finger to her lips. Mesmerized, Aragorn watched her mouth as her lips slowly parted and her tongue slid out and swiped the drop of blood away.

She moved closer to him and her head lowered to his chest, her tongue swirling across his hard nipple. He tried to lean back and away, but she bit down on the hard nub, and he cried out painfully, his arms twitching within the bonds. Her hands lowered to his groin and cupped him and he sucked in a gasping breath. Her fingers moved in slow circles and then she clasped his member tightly and began a slow, rhythmic pull until his engorged shaft throbbed. His eyes shut tightly and his teeth clenched, holding back the cry that threatened to scream from his chest. He could not let the Elf suffer any more, but he could not fight this; fight her; she was a demon.

Legolas stirred behind him and he tried to think of nothing but the Elf, but her mouth had already closed around him, hot, smooth. Her tongue was swirling around him and his hips thrust forward of their own volition, pushing into her.

"Legolas!" he gasped, "I cannot fight this!" and the fatal, gasping cry left his lips as she tried to swallow him whole.

As she pulled away from him, drawing her teeth along his length until he cried out again, he heard her taunting laughter and then she passed around his side to face the Elf.

She lifted Legolas' chin and ran her tongue along the soft hollow below his jaw. Expecting the whip and instead feeling her soft caress of his throat, the Elf's eyes opened wide and he tried to move his head away, but she grasped a handful of his long, silken hair and wadded her fist into its length, pulling his head toward her. Her tongue traveled up the underside of his jaw to rest near his ear, and he sighed as her breath whispered over the soft lobe.

"What are you doing?" he gasped.

"I'm going to make you scream," she murmured as she drew a fingernail up along the side of his ear; up to the tip and then back down again and he could not control the shiver that swept through his body. "And when you do, I'm going to beat the ranger senseless."

Legolas' eyes hardened. "I will never scream."

She laughed, deep within her throat, as her tongue slid down his neck, and his skin tingled at her touch. She reached up above his head and slowly turned the iron ring securing his hands. As she did so her breast brushed against his cheek, the soft fullness of it feather light against his skin and his eyes closed, his breathing quickening. The twisting of the ring turned him about and he found himself facing Aragorn's back. He looked over his shoulder and saw her grasping a short whip with many tails. She used the long handle to move his golden hair off his shoulder, baring his slender back, already marred by the last session of beatings.

The first slap of the whip caught his back around the lower ribs and wrapped around his chest like a crazed lover's embrace. Before the smarting sting of it could dissipate she struck him again, lower near the small of his back and he hissed through his gritted teeth as the multiple strips bit into the firm muscles of his backside. Aragorn tried to look over his shoulder at the Elf, but Legolas jerked as another strike of the whip hit his flesh.

"Just do what she asks," the ranger pleaded. "Do not let her beat you like this."

"Never!" the Elf growled, but the crack of the whip against his back caused him to gasp for breath. His forehead fell forward and rested between Aragorn's shoulder blades as he gulped in air in short quick heaves of his chest. Again, the biting sting of the leather bit into his taut rear and he bit his lip to keep from uttering a sound.

He could sense her body close to his and then her hard nipples crushed into his back and he arched his spine in response. Her arms slid up his, gripping the stretched muscles and slowly reaching for the iron ring above his head. As she reached up, her breasts rose as well, the nipples tracing soft trails along his back. She could feel him shudder beneath her and she smiled. With a quick twist of her wrist the ring spun about and the Elf's bound hands were spun with it, turning his body back around to face her. Her breasts flanked his head and then slowly moved down to press against his chest as she lowered her arms from the overhead ring and slid them down his chest.

He could feel himself harden as her hips slowly circled his lower abdomen and her breasts ground into his chest. Her hands reached around behind him and firmly clasped each firm cheek, pulling him forward toward her and she could feel him move between them. One hand relinquished its hold on his rear and slid between their bodies to run along the length of his shaft to the soft, velvety tip. Her thumb started rubbing small circles around and around the tip and a soft whimper escaped his lips.

Aragorn's eyes shut tightly. He could feel the sting of the whip coming closer. Legolas would not be able to fight her much longer. The Elf experienced arousal so much faster, so much more intensely than did he and he had already felt her mouth, her hands. He knew what they could do. Legolas would scream his pleasure. He could not fight it.

Her hand slid back down Legolas' shaft and his hips thrust forward of their own accord. Slowly, she guided him toward her. She rotated her hips into him, molding to him, until hot and wet, he slid easily within her. Her muscles tightened around him, trapping him within, and then slowly she pulled away, only to grind back into him, both hands clutching his ass and pulling him toward her. His back arched, arms jerking above his head and his head tilted back, his eyes closed as the waves of pleasure began to sweep over him in spite of his efforts to quell them.

She pulled away again and he thrust forward, reluctant to have this separation of their bodies and then she crushed back to him, plunging his member deep within and holding him tightly as she began a rocking, rhythmic ride of him. His hips rose and fell with her and the ache of his desire grew with each thrust until he could not keep the tension any longer and the moan of his release was torn from his throat in one agonizing, shuddering cry. Her lips crushed down to his mouth as she once again twisted her hands into his long, silken hair. Her tongue battled with his and then she slowly pulled away.

"It's the ranger's turn," she smirked. "You screamed."

Aragorn winced as he saw her come around his shoulder, sliding the handle of the whip down his chest and resting in atop his shaft. His chest heaved and he tried to move away from the whip, but she held it steady. His jaw tightened as he stared at his tormentor, willing his voice to remain cold.

"I thought you were going to beat me senseless?" he sneered at her, but she only laughed as she slid the whip's handle up and down the length of his member. In spite of himself, he stiffened at the touch of the hard leather upon his delicate skin. Then suddenly she snatched the whip up and tossed it over his head, wrapping its ends about his neck and twisting the leather coil until he gasped for air.

She drew her cruel smile up to his face, clutching a fistful of his dark, tangled hair and pulled his head down toward her lips. When her mouth was bare inches from his, she murmured. "I said I would beat you senseless." Her mouth devoured his with a brutal kiss, her tongue, plunging deeply into his mouth. And, then slowly she pulled away, her lips traveling along his jaw toward his ear. Her tongue licked the inside of his ear and he flinched and then her lips whispered into his ear. "I did not say I would use the whip."

Aragorn's heart began to hammer as her hand slid down to his throbbing shaft. It twitched between their meshed bodies and she laughed, low within her throat, her hand squeezing tighter and tighter and then slowly releasing its pressure. The whip ends were still tightly wrapped about his throat and he was quickly getting dizzy and lightheaded from the lack of air, but still she twisted the ends. Both hands worked his body, both squeezing and then relenting until a convulsive shudder swept the length of his battered form and his body jerked within its restraints.

He wanted to cry out, but there was no breath left to do so and just when he feared that he would lose consciousness altogether, she relinquished her grip upon the whip, allowing air to again reach his deprived lungs. At the same instant she slid his hard member into her waiting nether lips and pulled him toward her pumping hips, slamming his shaft deep within her. A ragged cry filled the chamber as Aragorn's body responded. He was a prisoner held tight within her hot, tense trap and he was drowning in a chasm of sensation that shook him from head to toe and seemed to last for an eternity; and then he was no longer aware of anything but the shivering, panting aftermath.

Soft, tinkling chimes sounded from somewhere, far off it seemed, and she backed away from him with a slight chuckle. The ring above their heads began to lower and both Aragorn and Legolas fell to their knees, both their bodies limp and quivering, their arms aching now as the strain upon them lessened. Dark, nubile attendants stepped out of the shadows and moved forward and began to untie the leather thongs from about their wrists and both fell upon the floor, beaten, bloodied, and breathless.

She threw the whip carelessly upon a table top and grinned at the two upon the floor. "Same time next week, boys?" she asked with a smirk.

"Most definitely!" gasped Aragorn. He turned to the Mirkwood Prince. "Did I not tell you she would make you scream?"

"I did not scream," countered the prince.

"You did." Aragorn laughed and slapped a hand upon the Elf's slender shoulder. "I told you we didn't have to traverse the whole of Middle Earth to get beaten and battered by orcs, we could do it right here in Gondor!" He helped his friend to stand and then the two followed the attendants to the warm baths to soothe their aching bodies. "And she is so much better to look upon than an orc!"

*****

THE END