The day after Maglor whipped and caned Fëanor for the first time, Fëanor slept later than usual - well into the afternoon - and when he got up he moved gingerly, wincing every few steps. While Elven bodies healed quickly, Fëanor had taken enough of a beating that Maglor knew he would need at least a couple days to recover.
However, Fëanor didn't seem to regret what happened at all - indeed, every time Maglor gave him a concerned look or made a sympathetic noise, Fëanor just flashed him a big, shit-eating grin, and Maglor couldn't help grinning back.
Maglor couldn't say he regretted it either. He'd relieved himself twice since he got up, just thinking about what they'd done yesterday. The sweet, sweet power of watching Fëanor break so beautifully, all emotion, all passion, like a force of nature. It was just as exhilarating as watching Fëanor work in his forge, if not moreso - Fëanor, himself, was art.
Maglor still craved Finarfin's domination - and he had no desire to dominate Finarfin himself - but conquering and taming Fëanor was addictive. Fëanor had told the Valar themselves to fuck off... but he knelt to his second son, begged to be used, disciplined, fucked. Maglor loved it, even more than he loved dominating Maedhros when they played together.
But for all of his love of their newfound arrangement, Maglor loved Fëanor enough to not give in to Fëanor's hints that he'd like to be beaten again, today. It was tempting, but Maglor knew Fëanor's body needed a rest.
It was very, very tempting. They watched the sunset together in the gardens, Fëanor leaning against Maglor as Maglor rubbed his scalp, pet his hair. "Tonight the sunset seems even more beautiful," Fëanor mused aloud.
"And we have a lovely view." Maglor looked over the garden wall, down the cliff at the fire of the sky reflected in the ocean.
Fëanor turned his head and gave Maglor that grin again. "You know what else is a lovely view?" Fëanor stood up and hiked up his robe - he was wearing nothing underneath today, and he wiggled his ass, covered in thin welts and long cuts from the caning. Maglor's cock stirred at the sight of that firm, round ass bearing his handiwork, the evidence of their debauchery the day before. When Fëanor turned around, he gave Maglor a glimpse of his own hard cock, already ready for more play, before he let the hem of his robe fall back down.
Maglor gave a low whistle of appreciation and chuckled. "That is a very lovely view."
"You could make it even lovelier and hurt me some more."
Maglor sighed. As much as he wanted to spoil Fëanor and give him everything he wanted... Maglor shook his head. "No, Little One. You need time to heal."
Fëanor made a rude noise with his tongue blowing between his lips, then he lifted up his robe again and shook his ass. "Please, Atya?" Fëanor looked over his shoulder and pouted. "Pleeeeeeeeeease?"
"No. I wouldn't be a good Atya if I hurt you again right now." Then Maglor considered Fëanor's hard cock, and his own erection. He could dominate Fëanor without hurting him, this time, and it could still be fun. "We can play other ways, though."
Fëanor clapped excitedly, like an ellon again, and Maglor rose, laughed as he tousled Fëanor's hair, then took him by the hand and led him inside.
Maglor's first action was to get out the palantir. When Finarfin appeared in the glass, Maglor gestured to Fëanor, who was undressing, and then asked his husband, "Are you free?"
"I'm free," Finarfin said, his lips quirked.
Maglor and Fëanor began to put on a show for him - Maglor continued undressing Fëanor himself, and Fëanor undressed Maglor, the two of them kissing and rubbing their tongues together, hands playing over freshly exposed skin. Once they were both completely nude, they held each other, working their hips to grind cock against cock, tongues teasing, while Finarfin watched, stroking himself.
Maglor clipped the leash of diamonds and pearls through Fëanor's collar - Finarfin smiled at the familiar sight of the leash and collar - and then Maglor dragged Fëanor by the leash over to the bed. While he didn't want to get too rough with Fëanor, who was walking gingerly from yesterday's discipline, he couldn't resist giving Fëanor's ass a slap before Fëanor got on the bed. Fëanor yelped, then winced again as he rolled onto the sheets.
"Is my poor baby still sore?" Maglor asked.
Fëanor nodded solemnly, and pouted.
"Atya will take care of you, Little One."
Maglor looked at Fëanor's back and ass - still covered in welts and gashes, though they were on the mend - and he decided more salve was in order. Fëanor lay on his stomach, hips propped up on pillows, his ass pushed out at Maglor invitingly. It was tempting just to take and give Fëanor a good, hard fuck, but Maglor kept himself in check, wanting to spoil Fëanor... wanting to tease him, and give Finarfin the pleasure of watching Fëanor teased.
So Maglor worked the salve into Fëanor's back and ass in slow, sensual strokes, caressing, massaging. After a few minutes Fëanor began to grind himself against the pillows, moaning, and Maglor's breath hitched at the sight of that pink, puckered hole twitching with excitement. Maglor smacked Fëanor's ass, then leaned in to kiss the back of Fëanor's neck, knowing he was sensitive there. He smiled with satisfaction as Fëanor shuddered and let out a breathy sigh.
"Does my baby like that?" Maglor rasped, letting his breath tickle Fëanor's neck.
"Yes, Atya."
"Good..."
Maglor kissed and licked Fëanor's neck, and his shoulders, as his hands continued to slide down Fëanor's back and ass and back up again. He kissed and licked his way down Fëanor's spine, every now and again moving over to lick and nibble at his sides, making Fëanor shiver and yelp, his hole twitching again. Maglor kissed all the way down to Fëanor's ass, and as his eyes locked with Finarfin's in the palantir, Maglor began to lap at the twitching hole. Fëanor howled with pleasure and Finarfin stroked himself faster, watching them. Maglor started stroking himself too.
Of course, that was fine for them. When Fëanor took himself in hand and began playing with his cock, rocking his hips to fuck himself on Maglor's tongue, Maglor pulled back and gave Fëanor's ass another firm swat.
"Did I say you could touch yourself, slut?" Maglor asked... echoing the same words Finarfin had said to him many a time during their own private play.
"No, but..."
Maglor smacked Fëanor's ass again, this time hard enough to make Fëanor squeak. Maglor grinned, delighted at the once High King of the Noldor making such undignified sounds. He wondered what other sounds he could get out of Fëanor. He grabbed Fëanor by the hair, pulled him up, and bit Fëanor's neck with a hungry growl as he took Fëanor's hand off his cock and replaced it with his own; Fëanor's cock leapt in Maglor's hand and Maglor almost came untouched, relishing the power he held.
Maglor pushed Fëanor back against the pillows. "Stay there, or Atya won't let you come at all." He poked the tip of Fëanor's nose, and then he got up.
Finarfin had packed Maglor a kit of supplies to dominate Fëanor in the bedroom, and Maglor produced it now, taking out two lengths of shimmering, pearlescent white rope threaded with gold, woven by the finest textile workers in the realm. Fëanor's face lit up at the sight of the rope, and Maglor smiled back at him. Then Maglor got to work, tying Fëanor's right wrist to the bedpost, then his left. He had Fëanor move his arms to make sure the bonds were neither too loose nor too tight, and then he pulled back to survey his handiwork. His eyes feasted on the sight of Fëanor with his wrists tied to the bedposts, hair fanned out, nipples and cock hard, his cock dripping with pre-spend... his eyes feverish, desperate.
Maglor leaned in to lick a bead of pre-spend from the tip of Fëanor's cock and then he pulled back again, tongue hanging out to make a long streamer of his saliva mixed with Fëanor's essence. Fëanor moaned, watching, and his cock leapt again. Maglor laughed, delighted once more, and then he licked his lips. "Such a slut," he purred, echoing one of Finarfin's favorite words of endearment.
"A beautiful slut," Finarfin added, his voice husky and shaking as he continued stroking himself, watching.
Fëanor bit his lip and whimpered.
Maglor began stroking his own cock, going mad with lust at the sight of Fëanor bound and helpless, completely submissive to him. The Spirit of Fire, tamed. "A delicious slut."
"Please, Atya." Fëanor looked at Maglor's cock - which was much more hard than usual, thicker and longer, flushed a deep red, looking almost angry in its need. Maglor's balls ached for relief, but Maglor kept stroking himself, knowing it was teasing Fëanor. "Please." Fëanor whimpered again. "Atya, please, please give me your cock, Atya..."
Maglor laughed at him. "Naughty sluts who touch themselves without permission - like they think they're in charge - need to prove they deserve cock." Maglor bit his own lip and gripped himself firmer, trying to slow down so he didn't come right away. "I don't know, maybe I should finish and not let you have any."
"Please! Please, Atya, please! I'll be good! I'll be a good boy, please Atya..."
Maglor continued pleasuring himself as Fëanor begged "please, Atya, please." Fëanor's cries were fueling Maglor's lust even hotter until he couldn't help but stroke himself frenziedly, his hand a blur, his cock making a wet rattling sound in his hand. Fëanor's cries got more plaintive, almost sobbing.
Just before Maglor could bring himself to climax, he stopped. It felt like one of the hardest things he'd ever done. A part of him wanted to come all over Fëanor's face and body and then tease Fëanor until he was ready again, but Maglor knew that as intensely aroused as he was he might blow hard enough to need a nap afterwards. So he tempered himself, telling himself that it would be worth the wait. With his pre-spend on his fingers he came over on his knees and stuck his slick fingers in Fëanor's mouth, his cock throbbing with urgent, hot lust as he watched Fëanor's lush lips wrap around his fingers and Fëanor bobbed his head back and forth, Maglor's fingers sliding in and out of Fëanor's mouth like a cock.
When Maglor had his fill, he considered letting Fëanor taste right from the head but he decided he would probably come from that. So instead he leaned in to kiss Fëanor, then settled over him and kissed and licked Fëanor's exquisitely sensitive neck, the sweet hollow where neck met shoulder. Fëanor arched to him, his breath in shuddery gasps. "Please, Atya..."
Maglor slowly rubbed his hard cock against Fëanor's thigh as he kissed and licked across Fëanor's sternum, then down to his left nipple. Maglor lapped at the swollen bud, then took it in his mouth, sucking hard, tugging on it, before his tongue lashed it again, his cock pulsing at the sound of Fëanor's cries. Maglor turned to the right nipple, licking, suckling, and Fëanor writhed against the restraints, wailing.
Maglor went back and forth between Fëanor's luscious nipples, making them swell even more, making them glisten delectably from his tongue. He lapped and sucked until he was edging himself, shaking, frantic for his own release. And still, he didn't give in, craving to see Fëanor undone further.
Maglor kissed, licked and nibbled at Fëanor's stomach, then his left thigh. Fëanor whimpered, quivering. Fëanor gasped for breath again as Maglor did the same to the right thigh. "Please, Atya," Fëanor begged. "Please, fuck me..."
Maglor smiled and responded by putting his head between Fëanor's legs, tilting Fëanor's hips to gain access to his hole, and spearing it with his tongue. Fëanor threw his head back and let out a scream that almost made Maglor come.
Maglor licked at him slowly, frustrating them both to the Hells and back. He kept slapping his own hand away from his cock as his tongue played and teased at Fëanor's passage.
"Atya, please, fuck me..."
Maglor grinned. "I am fucking you, Little One."
Fëanor gave him a comical glare, and then he was all pout and whimper once more. "With your cock, Atya, please. Please, I'll be a good boy."
"Will you?" Through the haze of his lust, Maglor began to plan. He had been sent here to tame Fëanor to the point where he'd be willing to reconcile with Fingolfin. Maglor had assumed it would take at least a few weeks, if not a couple of Moon cycles. But now... Maglor wondered if this would happen sooner rather than later. He slowed his tongue down even more.
"Yes, Atya! Please! Please!"
Maglor gave a non-committal hum and continued lapping at Fëanor's passage.
Maglor licked and licked, and after a few minutes - when Fëanor's moans brought him dangerously close to coming untouched again - he slid up a little and began to take long, slow licks down the shaft of Fëanor's cock, then back up. Down, then up. He slowly lapped at the head, swirled his tongue around and around, and fluttered his tongue on the frenum as Fëanor howled, writhed, screamed. Maglor sucked on the head - just enough to frustrate Fëanor further, not enough to make him come. Then his tongue rubbed at the shaft, laving it, and he licked at Fëanor's balls and sucked on them. His tongue lapped Fëanor's hole once more, then teased at the sensitive place between balls and ass before he licked up Fëanor's balls and shaft... then back down. Up and down, up and down.
"Atya, Atya, please..." Fëanor shuddered and sobbed. "Please, Atya, please, I'll do anything, just fuck me..."
Maglor smiled. "Anything?"
"Anything, please..."
"Will you be a good boy and reconcile with Ñolo?"
"Yes, Atya, yes, just please, give me cock..."
Finarfin's laughter rang out through the palantir. Maglor rose up, feeling a surge of victory, and he reached for the oil. Once Fëanor's channel was oiled and his own cock as well, Maglor got on his knees, propped Fëanor's legs on his shoulders, and let him have it.
"Fuck that slut," Finarfin encouraged, stroking himself madly, panting.
The bed slammed against the wall and Fëanor's broken cries were as loud as the sound of their flesh slapping together. Maglor gave into his primal lust, pounding Fëanor's ass hard and fast... knowing he wouldn't last long, as good as the rhythm felt inside Fëanor's silken heat, but then he didn't think Fëanor would last long either.
"Such a slut for cock you'll even make up with Ñolo." Maglor chuckled, then gave a deep grunt of satisfaction as he drove into Fëanor harder, his balls smacking Fëanor's ass. "Atya's little cockslut."
"Yes, Atya, yes!"
"So shameless," Finarfin said. "Such a fuckslut..."
"Yes, yes, yes..."
"I want to hear you say it," Maglor growled, his eyes meeting Fëanor's. "Tell me you're such a slut for your Atya's cock that you'll even be nice to Ñolo." He smirked, knowing he had Fëanor right where he wanted him. "You'll even let Ñolo fuck you, that's how much of a wanton, cock-hungry fuckslut you are -"
Fëanor let out a wordless scream and climaxed, seed spurting up his own torso. As much as Maglor had wanted to hear Fëanor say it, promise it... this was even better. There was no denying the evidence that Fëanor still wanted to be fucked by Fingolfin. Wanted to be fucked by all of them.
Finarfin and Maglor came together - even through the palantir, across the distance, the strength of their bond was such that Maglor could feel Finarfin's release winding around his own, the harmony to the melody of Maglor's orgasm. For a moment it was as if Maglor could see the light of the Trees again, in one shimmering note of joy.
Maglor untied Fëanor, who flexed his wrists and wrapped his arms around him. Maglor sank down and kissed Fëanor deeply. "What a beautiful, delicious slut you are," Maglor husked, and kissed him again. He touched Fëanor's face, stroked his hair, and looked into his eyes. "You're a good boy. You're Atya's good boy."
Fëanor bit his lip, and then he kissed Maglor back.
Maglor held Fëanor close, petting and rocking him, and he felt Finarfin's mind brush up against his. I shall inform our brother.
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