The morning after Maglor penetrated Fëanor for the first time, Maglor rose with a smile on his face. He wanted to do something to spoil Fëanor and express his love and caring besides sex. He decided that, even though there were a few servants at the vacation home who handled the chores of cooking and cleaning, he would make Fëanor breakfast himself, by hand, hoping to serve Fëanor breakfast in bed.
But as he set about the task of stirring ingredients to make blueberry pancakes, Fëanor wandered into the kitchen.
"You're up," Maglor said, surprised - he expected Fëanor to sleep in.
"There was a cold spot in the bed. I wondered where you'd gone, and I was informed you were here." Fëanor glanced at what Maglor was doing. "What are you making? It smells good."
"I'm making you blueberry pancakes."
Fëanor's face lit up - his radiant happiness over such a small thing made Maglor want to cry - and then Fëanor himself got visibly choked up, touched that someone was taking care of him... and then he quipped, "Hi, Making You Blueberry Pancakes, I'm -"
Maglor groaned loudly, but he wasn't annoyed. Indeed, he was relieved that Fëanor was getting back to his old self. He shook the whisk at him, which splashed batter onto Fëanor's face.
Fëanor licked his lips - Maglor's mind went right to sex - and then Fëanor stepped over... and stuck his finger in the mixing bowl. Maglor watched as Fëanor sucked on his own finger, tasting the pancake batter. Before Fëanor's finger could dip into the bowl a second time, Maglor slapped Fëanor's hand away.
"Behave." Maglor gave him a stern look.
Fëanor made a rude noise with his tongue blowing between his lips. Maglor tried not to laugh but kept up the mock annoyance. "You're a brat," Maglor said.
"Thank you!" Fëanor beamed.
"Now, I'm going to get back to work. You, get back to bed and wait." Maglor shook the whisk again, more gently to not spray more batter, which didn't entirely succeed, hitting himself in the face.
Fëanor laughed, gave a wink that was more of a clumsy blink, and said, "Hi Going To Get Back To Work You Get Back To Bed And Wait, I'm -"
"Going to get it," Maglor warned, and couldn't help laughing as Fëanor shook his ass at him before he ran off.
As Maglor resumed stirring the batter, his mind replayed Fëanor sucking his own finger... which became a mental image of Fëanor's lips wrapped around his cock. Maglor's cock hardened and he swore under his breath. But then Maglor smiled to himself, pleased with the knowledge that Fëanor was being a brat on purpose, to get punished later.
Maglor couldn't wait.
After Maglor fed Fëanor breakfast in bed, he took Fëanor out to the gardens to play harp and sing for him. As tempting as it was to spend all day in bed with Fëanor and do nothing but make love, Maglor wanted to express his love in different ways... and hoped that Fëanor would feel it, and that it would be a balm for his heart, after years of Nerdanel's abuse and then the loneliness of the years at Formenos, the loneliness through the tragedy of losing Finwë and the Silmarils, feeling rejected by Fingolfin. Maglor poured his feelings out into the notes, wanting to touch Fëanor's fëa just as he'd touched Fëanor's body.
The hours passed and Fëanor watched the performance with worship in his eyes. At last, when Maglor's voice was spent and his fingers needed a rest from the harp strings, he stopped, and when he'd caught his breath he asked Fëanor, "How was that?"
Fëanor came over, threw his arms around Maglor, and kissed him passionately. "You are the Song itself," Fëanor said. "I have never heard finer music."
Maglor's cheeks flushed and he felt himself grinning, stomach aflutter. He'd been complimented for his music by others many times but this meant more than any of the kind words he'd received before - he knew that Fëanor didn't give false praise, and just as importantly, those songs had been for him, so he wanted Fëanor to like them. Fëanor touched his face now and said softly, "I loved it. I love you."
Maglor leaned into Fëanor's touch, then took Fëanor's hand and kissed it. "I'm so glad. I wanted to sing of my love for you."
Fëanor grinned back at him. "Hi So Glad I Wanted To Sing Of My Love For You, I'm Fëa -"
"You're not a brat, you're a fucking brat."
Fëanor threw his head back and laughed, then turned around and shook his ass. Maglor gave it a playful slap, and thought about what it would be like to smack Fëanor's ass bare-handed. He liked that idea very much, a frisson down his spine.
It made him feel even closer to Finarfin, across the distance, knowing Finarfin had smacked that ass many times. As much as Maglor liked submitting to Finarfin, the thrill of dominating Fëanor enticed him. He could see why Finarfin enjoyed it so much.
"It's like you're trying to goad me into punishing you," Maglor said.
Fëanor nodded vehemently. "Is it working?"
Maglor hit himself in the forehead, groaning loudly, but he wasn't truly annoyed. "Terrible."
"Thank you, I try."
"Let's go for a walk," Maglor said, looking out at the sea. As tempting as it was to take Fëanor to the bedroom and give him that punishment, he wanted to make Fëanor wait just a little while longer.
They walked down to the beach, and along the shore, hand-in-hand. It was a mild day, peaceful after the thunderstorms yesterday. The salt breeze felt refreshing, and Fëanor's joy in the sight of the sun-glittering water was good for Maglor - he loved seeing Fëanor happy. Fëanor's ceaseless wonder at the beauty of the world made him love Fëanor more and more.
As the high tide rolled in, they ran out of its path, then stood to watch the waves. Maglor put an arm around Fëanor, who leaned on him with a sigh of contentment. Maglor leaned in and kissed Fëanor's brow, and said, "I'm so grateful to have you back, and to spend time with you like this." He wanted Fëanor to feel appreciated.
Fëanor grinned again and Maglor wanted to smack himself in the forehead again, but didn't. He still groaned as Fëanor let out a, "Hi So Grateful To Have You Back And To Spend Time With You Like This, I'm Fëanor."
"You know..." Maglor shook his head, trying not to laugh. This was getting bad even for Fëanor. "If you keep making those jokes, I'm going to take you over my knee and spank you."
Fëanor bit his lower lip, cheeks turning pink, eyes sparkling. "Hi Going To Take You Over My Knee And Spank You..."
Maglor growled, took hold of Fëanor's hair like it was a leash, and marched back to the villa, pulling Fëanor by the hair all the way. By the time they got back to the villa they were both hard, and Fëanor's pre-spend was making a wet spot through his breeches.
Maglor yanked on Fëanor's hair even harder as he led the way to the bedroom. Once inside, Maglor roughly shoved Fëanor onto the bed. "Get undressed. Now."
Fëanor immediately began to strip. Maglor's mouth watered and his cock throbbed at the sight of Fëanor's naked body, as if he'd crafted himself into being. Maglor's head spun with a thousand different fantasies, wanting Fëanor in every way imaginable... He took a few deep breaths, trying to focus on the task at hand.
Still clothed himself, Maglor sat on the edge of the bed. He grabbed Fëanor and pulled Fëanor across his lap, over his knee. Fëanor laughed and wiggled his bare ass.
"I'm going to give you ten spankings," Maglor said - while he knew from what Finarfin had told him that Fëanor had a high pain tolerance, and was a slut for it, he also knew it had been a long time since Fëanor had been handled in such a fashion -
"Hi Going To Give You Ten Spankings, I'm -"
"Twenty," Maglor gritted out, exasperated and amused all at once. Finarfin had warned him Fëanor was a handful, and Maglor was starting to see why.
Maglor's hand cracked down on Fëanor's left ass cheek. "One," he said, his cock throbbing at the way Fëanor's breath hitched.
Maglor's hand slapped Fëanor's right ass cheek. "Two." His cock throbbed again at Fëanor's gasp.
Back and forth he went between Fëanor's ass cheeks, making them red and rosy. After six spankings, Fëanor let out little whimpers with each blow, and after twelve, Fëanor began to yelp - which just made Maglor hit him harder, relishing the way Fëanor was losing control. Fëanor's breath was ragged and at fifteen spankings he started rubbing himself against Maglor's thigh and knee, hard and slick; Maglor watched Fëanor's hole twitch with anticipation and it drove him wild with lust, fighting the urge to just take Fëanor.
It didn't help that when the spankings were done and Fëanor's ass had bright red handprints on it, Fëanor begged, "Fuck me. Please, Atya, fuck me..."
Maglor almost came untouched from being begged like that. He loved it when Fëanor called him Atya. He was in charge now. He might be helpless to undo the past and heal Fëanor's memories, but he could take care of him. He could give Fëanor pleasure.
He could give pain as pleasure. Maglor, himself, had been in a dark place when he and Finarfin began their relationship. Each act of submission and breaking under the flogger, the whip, was a powerful emotional release for Maglor, the tears cleansing the festering wounds of his heart.
Fëanor had a long journey ahead of him - longer still to lead back to Fingolfin - and it had to start somewhere. It was starting here.
Wordlessly, Maglor gently guided Fëanor onto the bed, then rose up. "Undress me," Maglor said - another command. Another act of control, establishing their places in this game.
Fëanor did as he was told, breathing harder as Maglor's flesh was exposed. Maglor relished the heat in Fëanor's eyes, and the way Fëanor caressed his bare chest and stomach, his thighs... and then his cock.
"Please, Atya," Fëanor begged again, taking Maglor's hard cock in his hand, stroking it slowly. "Please, Atya, fuck me..."
Maglor took Fëanor's hand away, as much for his own sake - not wanting to come right away - as to further reinforce he was the one in charge here. "Lay on your stomach."
Fëanor did - getting face down, ass up, giving Maglor yet another delicious view of his lovely red ass. Maglor got out the oil... and the salve. He wasn't going to give into Fëanor right away, but just as importantly, he wanted to soothe the pain he'd inflicted, just as Finarfin had done with him many times over, a moment of tenderness and trust.
Maglor applied salve to his hands and began to rub Fëanor's sore ass in slow, gentle circles and swirls. Fëanor moaned into the pillows, rubbing himself against the sheets. "Atya," Fëanor whined. "Atya, please, fuck me..."
"Soon. But first you need Atya's tender loving care, Little One."
The words just slipped out of him, but they felt right... and judging from the way Fëanor whimpered, Fëanor liked it too.
"That's right, Little One," Maglor husked, continuing to anoint the sore, reddened flesh with salve in languid strokes. "Let Atya soothe you. Let Atya make you all better."
Fëanor gave a frantic little howl and rubbed himself harder against the sheets. "Atya. Atya..."
Maglor smiled to himself, pleased that their roleplay was Fëanor's weakness. Fëanor did beg so prettily... and it made Maglor want to frustrate him even more.
Maglor's fingers brushed down Fëanor's spine, followed by his tongue. Fëanor cried out and bucked his hips as he tugged on the sheets, white-knuckled. "Atya! Atya..." Fëanor whimpered again. "Please, Atya, please, fuck me, I need it..."
Maglor's response to that was to start fucking Fëanor with his tongue, lapping inside him, knowing it would excite him without being enough to give him release. Maglor stroked himself as he licked at Fëanor's passage, his arousal fueled even hotter by the way Fëanor whined and sobbed, desperately rocking his hips to fuck himself on the tongue tormenting him, teasing him.
"Atya," Fëanor panted. "Atya, Atya..."
"Mmmmmm." Maglor laughed softly and his tongue traced circles around Fëanor's opening. He nibbled on a red, salve-glistening ass cheek before his tongue resumed circling, more slowly this time. "You've been such a brat, I'm not sure you should get what you want right away."
There was a pause, then Fëanor's voice was breathy as he replied with, "Hi Not Sure You Should Get What You Want Right Away, I'm -"
Fëanor couldn't finish that sentence, only squeal as Maglor bit his ass cheek again, harder this time. Then Maglor's tongue dipped back inside him, licking ever so slowly and delicately. Teasing and teasing. Maglor continued stroking himself, going out of his mind with lust at the way Fëanor howled and panted, wanting it so badly. Maglor took his sweet time, gently tongue-fucking Fëanor's hole until Fëanor couldn't make words to beg anymore, only shaky little gasps.
Maglor finally decided Fëanor had enough - if only because his own cock was achingly hard, his balls tight and urgent for relief. He knelt behind Fëanor, poured oil down the crack of Fëanor's ass, and as he watched it drip into the puckered hole, Maglor oiled his cock and stroked it, readying it. At last he fit the head of his cock to Fëanor's opening, and began pushing inside. Just watching Fëanor's hole swallow his cock inch by inch almost undid him, but Maglor made himself hold back. Soon, Maglor told himself. Soon you can come. First...
Maglor needed a good, hard fuck as much as Fëanor did, and Maglor let Fëanor have it, their hips slapping together, balls smacking balls, as Maglor pounded him hard and fast. Fëanor gasped and whimpered and Maglor grunted and snarled, and Fëanor got even louder when Maglor reached to seize a handful of his hair, pulling on it.
"You begged to get fucked," Maglor growled. "Now fucking take it."
"Yes, yes, yesyesyes, Atya, fuck me, FUCK ME..."
Maglor shuddered, once again making himself hold back his release. Oh, how he loved hearing Fëanor beg. Fëanor rocked his hips, matching Maglor's rhythm, and Maglor sped up, fucking Fëanor even harder, faster. The bed slammed against the wall, and the slap of their flesh, the wet suctioning sound as Maglor's cock pumped in and out of Fëanor's hole, made Maglor all the hungrier.
"You're a little slut for this," Maglor said, pulling harder on Fëanor's hair.
"Yes, Atya, yes... more, Atya, more... more, more, don't stop, give me more..."
Maglor groaned. He grit his teeth and slammed away as hard as he could, hearing himself pant, heart racing as the tension coiled tighter and tighter. He needed to come, but he couldn't get enough of fucking Fëanor this way, raw and primal. With one hand on Fëanor's hair, the other stroked Fëanor's cock in time with his thrusts, making Fëanor scream and wail.
When they were both shaking, gasping for breath, Maglor knew it was time. He gripped Fëanor's cock more tightly, squeezing it, and stroked it so fast his wrist hurt, as he kept driving into him, thrusting feverishly. "Show me how much you love being my little fuckslut and come for Atya," Maglor commanded.
"Atya! Atya! ATYA!"
At the feel of Fëanor's seed pouring down his hand and arm, Maglor climaxed with a fierce cry, doubling over as the throbbing waves of pleasure crashed through him. Fëanor gave a shuddery sigh and then a soft moan of delight as his channel pulsed around Maglor's cock.
"Good boy," Maglor whispered, sinking down onto Fëanor's back. He stopped pulling Fëanor's hair and rubbed and skritched his scalp instead. "Good boy. Such a good boy for Atya..."
"Oh, Atya, I love you," Fëanor breathed.
Maglor planted a soft kiss on the back of Fëanor's right shoulder, then Fëanor turned his head and they kissed deeply, sweetly.
"I love you too," Maglor said. He poked the tip of Fëanor's nose and smiled as Fëanor laughed. They kissed again and then Maglor rested against him, the two of them holding hands as they came down from their shared orgasm.
"That was fun," Fëanor murmured.
"And that was just the beginning." Maglor rubbed his nose in Fëanor's hair and kissed the top of my head. "I'm going to have a lot of fun with you, I think."
There was another pause, and Maglor let out an "oh, shit" just as Fëanor said, "Hi Going To Have A Lot Of Fun With You I Think, I'm Fëanor."
"It's going to be forty spankings next time."
"Promises, promises."
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