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What I Take From You

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“Lieutenant. I find myself intrigued by your latest report.” Melkor rolled a red glass vial in his fingers so it caught the candlelight. “This is the mushroom extract you describe, is it not?”

Mairon bit off an exasperated sigh. “You could have just sent me for it instead of ransacking my chambers. What does it say on the label?”

“Tincture of yéreva-hwan,” he read.

“Then, my lord, it is the one in my report.”

His favored Maia still smelled of the forge, of hot metal and the sulfurous tang of coal smoke, though he’d obviously taken a moment to clean off the worst of the sweat and soot and to change from his work leathers into something more befitting his lord’s bedchambers. The deep crimson of his robe, embroidered with gold wolf’s heads, contrasted starkly with the unadorned black silk of his high collar. Almost as if he’d taken Melkor’s personal banner and wrapped it around his throat… Melkor filed that notion away to play with another night.

“I wish to see it in action. It’s not every day you bring me such a novel torture technique.”

Mairon lit up at his lord’s interest. It was a good look on him. “Of course! I’ll have an elf brought up—unless you’d rather walk down to the dungeons with me? I’ve been getting some really good results—” He was already halfway to the door.

Melkor grasped his shoulder. “That won’t be necessary. I already have a subject.”

Mairon cast his eyes hopefully around the empty room. As the realization settled over him that he was the intended prey, he swallowed hard. “Please, my lord, let me fetch another. I’ll be much better able to explain the process if I’m not undergoing it myself.”

When nervous and uncomfortable, Mairon was even more irresistibly attractive. Melkor pondered just what heights he’d be able to push him to. The night held promise.

“Why, lieutenant, was something lacking from your report? I don’t believe further explanation should be required.”

Without waiting for a reply, Melkor led Mairon to his favorite armchair near the fire. He sat and gestured for Mairon to take his place. Instantly and gracefully Mairon dropped to his knees. Melkor wondered idly how much time he’d spent practicing that move. He swirled the contents of the vial. “How much larger should I make the dose for a Maia, do you think?”

After a moment’s silence, Mairon answered quietly. “My body metabolizes most substances at approximately five times the rate of a typical male Elda.” He was trembling ever so slightly. “Master, please. I’d strongly prefer not to do this.”

That surprised Melkor a little. Usually Mairon was eager to be his plaything. Reluctance could make this all the sweeter, but it would have to be handled with care. Melkor stroked Mairon’s cheek. The tenderness of his touch did nothing to relax Mairon’s rigid shoulders or to erase the fear from his citrine eyes.

“Your report claims no harm is done. No pain, even. And yet you are afraid.”

Wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, Mairon hesitated, then nodded. “Please. Have I ever refused to suffer for your pleasure? Grant me this one reprieve. If…if what you want is to see the depths of my desire, to see me debase myself for you, you need no drug; you have only to command. I burn for you always; I’ll show it in any way that amuses you, I’ll—"

Melkor stilled him with a kiss. Mairon melted into him, softening his mouth for Melkor to plunder.

“Mmm. I know what this is.”

He drew back only slightly, but Mairon reached for him as though he couldn’t bear to be parted. He ignored the bid for distraction.

“You can’t stand the thought of not being in complete control of your actions, can you? Just like you make it so damnably difficult to get you drunk. My proud little Maia, so bent on showing me only perfection.”

“You deserve no less,” Mairon whispered.

“And you give me no less.” A little of Mairon’s glow returned at the praise. “I will not force it down your throat,” Melkor continued. “If you insist on reprieve, you shall have it. But I would see you undone this night.”

Mairon’s silence stretched long, pierced only by a broken whimper. They had danced these steps before. Melkor knew how his words would fall on that heart that lived to please him. Waiting with cat-like patience, Melkor watched Mairon at war with himself. At last he raised his head.

“Master.” His words were barely audible. “I always give you what you want.” And he opened his mouth.

Melkor emptied the vial’s dropper under Mairon’s tongue. It was a little more than Mairon’s approximation, but Melkor wanted to be sure he got the full effect. Mairon laid his head in Melkor’s lap. He petted his fiery hair soothingly.

“That's my brave one. How soon will it begin to work?”

“All too soon.” Mairon shivered.

“Perhaps this robe should come off.” Melkor began undoing the clasps at Mairon’s throat. “I wouldn’t want to spoil it.”

“Please not yet.”

Melkor allowed him this shred of dignity. They both knew he would lose it all before long. Mairon began pressing soft kisses to his thigh. It might have been only his natural inclination, but the slight flush rising in his cheeks suggested otherwise. A caress of his throat summoned a low, aching moan. His fingers dug into Melkor’s hips as he forced himself back.

“I am going to shame myself so utterly. Please forgive me.”

Melkor clasped his lover by the nape of his neck so he couldn’t escape and kissed him long and hard. Against him Mairon quivered. “No, little flame. It’s no shame to obey me, is it?”

Mairon quickly shook his head.

“Whatever you do here is in obedience to my will. What I take from you in shame, in torment, in misery, I will give back in the measure of my regard. Has it not ever been so?”

The signs of Mairon’s struggle were beginning to show. He was losing his perfect composure, no longer able to hold his statuesque grace or even to keep still. His eyes, though, were wide and worshipful. “I would be yours…yours to take…even if it weren’t.”

Melkor kissed him again, and this time Mairon did not protest when he loosened his robe and pushed the silk from his shoulders. He gasped and shook at the trace of Melkor’s fingertips over his fevered skin. Biting his lip, he glanced up with a desperately apologetic look, then buried his face in Melkor’s thigh. His hand slid into his breeches, not bothering to unfasten them before taking his cock in hand. For a moment, Melkor indulged him. Then he kicked his hand away.

Mairon’s lips trembled like he would cry. “Please…I n-need…I can’t…”

“Little flame, it would be rude to spend before your lord.”

Hands clenching and opening, Mairon finally nodded. “Yes. M'sorry.” He pulled at Melkor’s clothes one-handed, palming himself with the other, until he managed to get Melkor’s cock in his mouth. Melkor groaned as he sank into that sweet wet heat. Mairon wasted no time with his usual teasing build-up, just swallowed him whole and started fucking his own throat on Melkor’s length.

He pulled back enough to whimper, “Please let me touch, give me something, I can’t bear it!” Immediately he put his lips and tongue back to work.

Melkor smiled. There was plenty of time to stretch this need and explore its depths. “Get your breeches off.”

Somehow Mairon squirmed out of them in seconds, without once neglecting his worship of Melkor’s cock. Melkor wondered as he often had how he’d lucked into such pure devotion. He gathered Mairon’s hands in his, Mairon moaning a soft protest, then pressed his foot against Mairon’s weeping erection. Mairon’s muffled gasp almost undid him. Giving his cock a little nudge, he slid his foot between Mairon’s thighs. That was all the invitation Mairon required. He rutted furiously against the smooth leather of Melkor's boot, redoubling his efforts for his master. Melkor came down his throat, and Mairon followed soon after. He paused, panting for breath, eyes closed. Melkor couldn’t tell if the tiny broken noises he made were laughs or sobs. Mairon’s arousal hadn’t flagged.

“Master, please, it didn’t…it didn’t help at all!”

Interesting. Mairon’s raw distress fueled fresh warmth in his own loins. He ran his thumb over Mairon’s reddened cheek, chasing away the welling tears. “You’re doing so good for me. Clean up this mess you’ve made, and you can have my cock.” He pushed Mairon’s head down to his boot, and Mairon lapped beautifully at the thick white come coating the leather.

“Mairon.” Melkor said his name just to make him look up. His golden eyes were dark with want, his tongue still pressed to Melkor’s boot. Melkor was tempted to scoop him into his arms and ravish him then, but he knew he could get more. Winding his fingers in Mairon’s hair, he tugged his head to the side and laid his sole to Mairon’s face. Mairon winced and shuddered, pled with his eyes, but when Melkor did not relent, he licked the boot’s sole as thoroughly as he had the top.

His proud lieutenant’s willingness to be so degraded for him sent dizzying waves of lust through Melkor. He didn’t allow Mairon to rise, but dragged him by his hair over to the bed. Mairon scrambled up and spread his legs wide, one hand on his cock, the other reaching for Melkor. He let his Maia pull him down for a feral kiss, already lining himself up with his entrance, not bothering with oil. Mairon healed quickly and rarely minded the pain. He certainly wouldn’t tonight, the way he struggled to impale himself, moaning a soft litany of “Please, m’lord, please, now please.” He swore and cried out when Melkor pushed inside with one long sharp thrust.

“Too much, precious? Shall I stop?”

“Nonono, please don’t!”

Melkor laughed and started moving within him, enjoying the way he mewled and clenched around his shaft. He grasped Mairon’s cock and started stroking it. Mairon gasped. “Ohhh, master!” Mairon came in moments, but it hardly seemed to affect him. Curious, Melkor kept going. The third time in a row, Mairon writhed so much Melkor almost spilled into him, but he paused and held on, not ready to end it just yet. Mairon’s tears began soon after. He must have become so sensitive that any touch was torture, but when Melkor took his hand away, he cried and begged to have it back.

Melkor wrung several more orgasms from him, watching in fascination as his body pulsed and throbbed, aching and dry. Mairon was falling apart. He held him down and pumped into him hard and deep. Pleasure washed over him and stole his breath.

He hauled Mairon up by his wrists and started fastening them into the sturdy cuffs lined with lambswool that hung from chains above the bed. Mairon stirred and tried to pull away.

“My lord? My lord, no, please! Don’t do this, don’t stop touching me, please, you have to let me come!”

“You forget yourself. I have to do nothing.”

Strapped into the cuffs, Mairon was forced to his knees, his body stretched just enough that he could hold himself upright or hang from his wrists, but not rest on his heels. Melkor’s seed dripped down his thighs. Mairon thrust against the air, desperately seeking any contact, but there was none to be had. “Master,” he whimpered.

“Sweet Mairon. Precious Mairon.” Melkor leaned in and kissed his forehead softly. “If I’ve guessed the timing right, you’ll be approaching the peak soon.”

Mairon’s eyes widened in fear. “No. No, it can’t get worse. It can’t. I can’t do this, please, I don’t want this!”

Melkor crooned in his ear. “Are you going to scream for me, little flame? You say the elves scream for you.”

“Please master, I can’t do it, make it stop!”

Taking his chin in hand, Melkor turned Mairon’s face and studied it carefully. Mairon’s eyes were screwed tight shut, and he’d bitten his lips until they bled. Melkor slapped him hard. His eyelids fluttered apart. He was quickly losing lucidity, but he didn’t seem quite gone yet. “Do you hear me, little flame?”

Mairon tried to nod.

“Is this any way for a lieutenant to speak to his lord? For a devout servant to treat his god?”

“What do you want, master?”

“I want you to beg for the privilege of suffering for me. I want you to beg to be made to scream.”

Perhaps, Melkor thought, he had waited too long. Mairon was growing incoherent; he didn’t seem to be aware of the whimpers pouring from him. But his hoarse whisper interrupted them. He enunciated each word with care. “Master. Please accept my suffering. I offer it to you. I choose this for you. Let my screams be pleasing, I beg you.” He shuddered, his breath hitching with sobs, and then he did scream. It ripped through him from the depths of his being, and Melkor moaned with the sweetness of it. He clasped Mairon to him and pressed their mouths together in an obscene mockery of a kiss, wishing he could swallow Mairon’s screams and keep them forever.

Settling back, Melkor admired the exquisite work of art that was Mairon in agony. He twisted and jerked in his bonds, gasping for breath between wails. Desire stabbed through Melkor’s belly every time he replayed Mairon’s words. Was it even possible to possess someone more thoroughly than he did Mairon? And did any creature exist more worthy to be so possessed? He would reward Mairon mightily for this sacrifice. Satisfaction nestled deep within his bones and slowly flooded him with warmth.

Eventually Mairon’s cries faded away into half-hearted moans, and he slumped in his bonds. He shook but no longer fought. Melkor raised his hanging head and gently caressed him. Sweat streaked his long fiery hair. “Little flame?”

“I love you,” he rasped.

Melkor smiled. “So I see.” He lowered Mairon to the bed and rubbed his wrists. They were bruised despite the cushioning wool. “How are you feeling?”

“I still want to come so bad.”

“What would you like best?”

“Can I have your cock in me? Please?”

With Mairon placed astride his lap, Melkor pushed his fingers inside him. Mairon was still soft and loose from being fucked, and he was slick with Melkor’s come. He lay limp as a doll, utterly exhausted, but at that he shivered, this time in pleasure. Melkor lifted him and guided him onto his cock. He fucked him slowly, thrusting up into him, watching the rapture on his face. When Mairon came, it was like night descending on the mountaintops, both glory and peace. He smiled and nuzzled against Melkor like a kitten.

“Better, precious?”

“It’s finally enough. I wasn’t sure it would ever be enough again.” He sighed contentedly. “Can I just stay like this? I want to fall asleep with you inside me.”

Melkor was still hard, but that sounded nicer than chasing another orgasm. He’d let Mairon have it. “After that, precious? You get what you want.” He adjusted their position, holding Mairon tight, and pulled the furs up to cover himself and his greatest treasure.