Chapter 5
Nights Of Avidity
by Vagabond
(Boromir POV)

 

It's been nearly a week now since Faramir's departure to Dol Amroth and I'm already desperately wishing he might be back. There are so many additional things to do without him. Like speaking with the nobility, for example. Oh, my brother is so much better in all these politically intricate negotiations than I.

Faramir says, he finds it amusing to play one against the other and to get what he wants in the end. I just find it disgusting to have to deal with these dolled up peacocks that always want something and are carping and complaining all the time. But to wring their necks is no option and so I had to bore through endless debates this day. - If to be king means that I have to wipe the asses of these fops, then I thankfully refuse to take this job!

But this is nonsense. I *will* be king one day, and I will do what needs to be done, to keep Gondor strong and safe.

~ ~ ~

Long ago the sun had given her place to full darkness when I returned to my rooms.
Torches illuminated the corridors and halls and when I stepped into my chamber I saw that the candles there burned as well. A good-smelling night meal stood on the wooden table and a jug of my preferential wine right next to it. From my bath-chamber welled steam and heat. Obviously, all arrangements were made.

I smiled, took a glass of wine and put a morsel of soft delicious bread in my mouth. Chewing, I went back to the door and called for my servant.

At once, Eomer entered the room, and I saw that his cheeks were flushed. He had this strange smile in his eyes that had appeared since this elf lived here. 'The non-existing elf.' Yes. And again I asked myself what exactly Eomer was doing with him. Or better, what the elf did with my servant. I hadn't seen Eomer so happy for a long time. To be honest, I think I have *never* seen him so happy. Somehow it made me a bit jealous. Eomer is *my* slave, and all his luck should come from me.

<Is there something going on between the two of them?>, I asked myself, and I felt displeased. But on the other hand - why should I bother my head over the elf? He is a slave, *my* slave, and in my mercy. I could do whatever I wanted with him.

(As soon as I had decided that he exists. There, in the room just a few steps away from mine. I could see him from the corner of my eye, how he was sitting on the bed, watching me suspiciously... )

I had to swallow when I remembered how he looked when I saw him *that* morning, the morning after I brought him home with me. After Fara's birthday. Valars... had *I* done that to the elf? Had *we* done that, Fara and I? Deep inside, I remembered something, very darkly and blurred, but it gnawed at my mind and caused a sick feeling in my stomach.

- ...Tears pearled slowly over a beautiful, pale face... pure hatred and disgust in clear, amazingly green, no, - brown!... deep brown eyes...'Monster', the eyes told...

Again I felt panic rise in me, something near fear, when I thought that I had become like *him*, like my father.

But no, my mood was too good at the moment to give a thought about that all and with a shake of my head, I decided to ignore the whole thing. And I'm really good in ignoring things.
I grinned in anticipation, because I had a very special present waiting for me and I was impatient to have a closer look on it.

"Is everything arranged?", I asked and Eomer nodded, confirming. "Yes, master. The guards wait for your command to bring the man to you."
I smiled pleased. "Good, good... - tell them that I want to see him now. Hurry up." I assigned him and watched how Eomer obediently hurried off.

Slowly I walked into the bath-chamber and let myself fall into a chair. It was hot and I loosened the belt of my deep black tunic. The silken fabric fell open and revealed my chest and soon aromatic steam coming from the tub made my skin glisten with sweat. I sighed and let my head fall back, wholly given in to the relaxing atmosphere. But when I heard footsteps and muffled sounds on the floor, I sat upright and drew all my attention back to the special event of this evening. Let's have some fun...

They were tugging 'my present' into the room and as soon as he saw me, he began to curse. I winked at him, stretched my long legs and made myself comfortable for the up-coming show.

Indignantly, he looked at the tub and his eyes went wide. He struggled like mad when the guards grabbed for his clothes to remove them, punched and kicked after my poor men, furiously insulting them and me.

I laughed loudly. Such a passionate one! Wonderful. I think I will enjoy him very much. Even more than I had the pleasure of this morning...

~

When someone knocked at the door this morning I just growled and hid my head under a pillow.

I had a slight headache and my mouth was dry and tasted of dead animal. Faintly I remembered, that I had visited "Torben's Tavern" yesterday, and that the innkeeper made sure that my mug was never empty. Soon, I must have been totally canned.

As always when I was in this state, I surely had wavered between the greed for fucking someone through the mattress -compared with an animal joy for dirty jokes- and self-pity. Mostly, I cured the last one with the first. But as hard as I tried, I couldn't remember if I fucked someone last night. I didn't even know how I found my way home...

The knocking sound didn't stop. It became even more monotonous and got on my nerves. < Nah, couldn't a man, who fought hard to keep his land safe and had to do a lot of unpleasant negotiations this day, get a little sleep here? >

I growled and jumped out of the bed. Oh oh, not a good idea. Everything seemed to spin around for a moment and I gripped one of the bedposts to steady myself. I could feel my fury rise. Where was Eomer? Why didn't the boy look who dared to disturb me?
With a curse on my lips, I hastily grabbed the tunic from yesterday to put it on and stormed towards the door to open it noisily. "What the f... "

In an instant, the din outside stopped and the guards who had made it went pale and calm when they sensed my very bad mood. "My lord, we are sorry to have to disturb you, but..." the captain paused, obviously considering if it was wise to intensify my anger.
"But what?", I snarled. "Come on man and tell me, and I hope for you that it is important."

He swallowed and glanced at the other men nervously, as if to assure their support. Annoyed I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm down, or I would have taken him apart on the spot.
"W-e ha... we have taken prisoners, my lord - two of the rebels. I think they come directly from Eowyn."

I rubbed lightly over my temples and forehead, to get the dizziness out of my head, and let the information sink in. Eowyn. <This little brat.> I couldn't count the effortless tries to catch her anymore. <Damned rebels.>

I cursed lowly. And what should *I* do now about that? It was Fara's task to care for such things, damned! I had not the faintest idea what to do with the captives. What was usual in such a case? To torture them wouldn't be wrong, I assumed. It seemed the easiest way to make the prisoners speak, and so I told the guard.

The captain made a grimace as if something prickly had suddenly appeared in his trousers and opened his mouth slowly again. "My lord", he began anew and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "My lord, experience showed us that simple torture mostly not looses the tongues of rebels. Especially, because one of them is a dwarf. No one can make dwarves speak by torture, one must trick them. Prince Faramir does always speak with them and tries to..."

I sighed and waved my hand towards the captain of my guard. "All right. Fine. I will take care of this. I will speak with them. Can't be that difficult...", I grumbled. "Go and *prepare* them, or what ever..."
The soldier was eager to give me a confirming nod. "As you wish my prince." And with this he hurried away.

I groaned and let my head fall back in frustration. Just wonderful! Now I had to deal with these rebels, too. Oh, how I hoped that my little brother would return soon! Things were much more easier with him at my side.

*

- One hour later, in a dark and dirty cell in the dungeon -

They had prepared the dwarf as it is custom for interrogations. He was half-naked, only clad with a loincloth, and his wrists and ankles were shackled to two strong wooden posts. He was also very filthy and smelly, but as a warrior I'm used to many kinds of dirt and so it mattered not for me.

I stood unmoving, considering possible procedures concerning the dwarf - or at least I tried to look as if I did.

My gaze wandered from the prisoner to the torturer and further to his helper, who goggled admiringly at me. - And Valar, that guy was ugly! An incredibly huge uncouth man, with a pimply and scar covered face and rotting yellow teeth. Disgusting... But build like a bull and with small intellect, he was exactly the sort of man who was born to violate. Surely, he enjoyed his job here. I had to admit that my brother choose his men very well.

I walked over to the dwarf and gripped him by his long felted beard. "Tell me something useful and I will let you live.", I told him, but he just laughed and spit at me. Of course I beat him for this, the movement fast and practiced.

The dwarf's head dropped forward onto his chest, and the cheek where I had hit him began to swell and turned red. I know how to beat.
The torturer swallowed and turned pale, but I was very satisfied with my work. First task - done.
"Torture him till he speaks.", I commanded in a final tone and turned away from the dwarf.

"So where is the other rebel?", I asked and already stepped towards the door. "Come on man, go along. I'm so annoyed by this all..."

*

- Another dark and stinky cell in the dungeon, perhaps a little more dirty -

This time, I told the torturer to stay outside, for I was sure that I would finish this whole affair in no time.

As soon as I stepped into the cell, my eyes were drawn to the lean body in the middle of the room...

Like the dwarf, the rebel was chained to two wooden posts, wrists and ankles in heavy iron shackles. Every time the man moved, the chains did slightly clank. And moving he did a lot. As if he didn't want to understand that he couldn't free himself. Again and again he tugged at the chains, cursing and mumbling something that sounded like elfish.

But he wasn't an elf, or? <No>, I chuckled. <He is much too dirty for an elf!> But he was tall and slim like one, only more muscled. His eyes were as blue as the ocean, and wild - oh so wild! They peered out from his face that was almost hidden behind a mane of faintly curled dark hair, which was as unruly and felted as the dwarf's reddish beard.

He went calm when I approached him, studying me carefully. <What does he see?>, I wondered, but I could imagine...

I'm tall, although not as tall as him, but broader and more muscular; long blond hair, bright green eyes and fair skin making a sharp contrast to the deep black clothes I normally wear.

Black is my favorite color. It fits me, I think. I utterly dislike those 'royal garments', they are too bright and dandified and mostly not very practical. I prefer to be clad like the warrior that I am.

So, no, I think I didn't look very royal in my leather breeches and almost rough tunic, that I wore for my daily sword-practice later on. And very quickly I realized, that he didn't know who I was. He seemed to mistake me for just another man who tried to interrogate him. Interesting. Somehow I had the feeling that this could be very useful for me.

I circled him with slow measured steps and was more than enjoying his nice body.

It's no secret that I'm more interested in men than in women. The people tittle-tattle that I have shared my bed with almost the whole male court, but of course this is nonsense. Most of the court are flattering bastards who only want to profit from my status, or to spy on me. I detest them with a passion. But I admit, that normally I have no objections taking a handsome man into my bed. Handsome man like this prisoner.

I let my hand trail over his back and felt for the muscles, felt them tense under my touch, and drew my hand back. I didn't want to scare him. Not yet.

I stepped before him and tried to sound stern, when I began to ask him questions.
"You are one of Eowyn's rebels?" Silence. "The dwarf is a comrade of yours?" More silence. "What was your task in Minas Tirith?" He just stared provocatively at me.
This was becoming really boring and I knew I had to do something about that. - Time to scare him a bit.

As always, I did the very first thing that came into my mind. With a fast movement, I gripped him by the hair and yanked his head forward till his lips hit mine. He gasped in surprise and immediately I tried to force my tongue inside his mouth.

I cannot say that I was too shocked when he bit me. Not everyone is able to handle my impetuous temperament. I grinned at him while I wiped the blood from my lips and watched how he began to tug at the chains again.

I positioned myself right before him and gripped the chains above his wrists tightly with my hands, my heated body firmly pressed against his, making him immobile.

His eyes went wide and his breathing became faster. "Whatever you will do to me, I will tell you nothing.", he whispered and I smiled.
"And what do you think I will do to you?", I whispered back, my lips near his ear, my breath flickering warm against it. He shivered and lowered his head to avoid my gaze.

"Perhaps that?", I asked and let my hand wander over his stomach to his thigh. He stiffened. "Or that?", I chuckled and brushed my fingertips over the loincloth that covered his manhood. Yes... now he shivered. If it was for fear or excitement I couldn't tell, but I hoped for the last.

"I could help you.", I murmured promising and his face showed me that he wanted to clutch at this straw. Desperation is a good seducer.
"You just try to trick me.", he answered, his voice hollow.

"In a way.", I admitted, licking and biting his skin, leaving wet paths on his ear and neck. "But if you are a little nice to me, I promise that I will get you out of this dungeon unharmed."

Well, it wasn't a lie. I just concealed the little fact, that I would keep him as my personal toy and take him into my bed straightaway. But that was something he couldn't know. So he nodded slowly and tried to deal with me on his own.

"I will do what you want." (Oh, he blushed so nicely by saying this!) "But only if you tell me something in return."

Surprised, I looked at him. Normally, prisoners don't make demands! But this filthy rebel amused me and I wanted to know where this would lead.
"And what would you want me to tell you?", I asked with a smile and trailed my hands over his strong muscled arms, down to his nipples, which I circled and pinched slightly.

His eyelids fluttered and he gasped slightly. Then he looked with those amazingly blue eyes directly into mine and asked "I want to know if my... a friend of mine is still alive. I heard that prince Boromir has bought a new Elf-slave. I'm not sure, but I think it is my friend. Do you know something?"

I needed a moment to digest this and so I said nothing, just rubbed his nipples absently and then closed my mouth over the left one to suck it. He moaned and pressed against me, and I had the suspicion that he wanted to please me to assure himself of my help. Always the same... But it was what I had asked for.

"And what would you do, if it is your friend?", I asked, my head still lowered to his chest, trying to keep my tone neutral. "You could never free him. They would kill you before you could make one step towards the prince's chambers."

He nodded sadly and swallowed. "Yes... but I need to know if he is still alive. There is still hope if he is..." He stopped then, and I knew that he thought about killing the prince. Killing *me*. Of course, he wouldn't be stupid enough to say such a thing.

Now he watched me suspiciously. "Are you close to the princes?", he asked, his voice a bit wavering. I laughed. "One could say so." There was a long silence between us after this.

I began to caress him again while I spoke. "To your question... - yes, prince Boromir owns a new slave. A blond elf, very beautiful -even for elfish terms, one says- and as I know, he is alive. If he is the one you search for, I cannot tell, but from the servants gossip, I think he is called 'Legolas' or something like that."

The rebel nodded slowly, and I meant to see tears in his eyes, but he blinked them away. I kissed his chest, hungrily and rough. I know only little of tenderness, but nevertheless I know how to pleasure.
All the time he held his head lowered as if in shame, but allowing everything I did to him.

His skin was so dirty and sweaty, but it excited me only more. I licked and sucked at it, marking parts with little bites, and then ripped the loincloth from his waist to bring his cock to full hardness with fast jerked strokes of my hand.

When I heard him groan, I hastily freed my own manhood from the tight leather breeches and positioned myself behind him. I spit into my hand and began to stroke my cock until it was slick with saliva and pre-come.

I thrust into him, hard and fast, and he screamed with pain. Soothingly, I kissed his shoulder and gave him time to adjust to me. Then I began to move anew, trying to hit the spot that should bring him pleasure.

My hands gripped the chains again and my knuckles went white with strain, when I stabbed my greedy cock again and again in the willing body of this prisoner. Soon, the rattling sound of the chains mingled with our moans and cries.
I reached for his cock and began to stroke in rhythm to my thrusts, my fingers demanding and merciless.

He shuddered violently when I made him come, spilling his semen all over my hand while I spurted stream after stream into his ass. I groaned one last time and then let my forehead fall onto his shoulder in exhaustion, still buried inside him.

The rebel could barely stand. He gasped for breath and tried to calm down.
I don't know how long we stand like this. Then I asked the silly question that crossed my sated mind. "You love this elf?"

He stiffened, and then wriggled a little as if to push me away. "I do.", he said and I put one arm around his chest, to draw him only closer towards me. "And he loves you, too?", I asked, my voice a bit sleepy. "Yes, he does." he answered and struggled more.

"What's your name?" I asked, but he didn't answer. I gripped his chin and turned his head towards me, circling his seductive lips with my thumb. "Tell me your name!" I repeated and put my other arm around his waist to hold him near.

"Aragorn.", he answered as if in defeat and so lowly that I almost missed hearing it.
"A proud name for a rebel." I chuckled and gave his cheek a playful pat. Then I slid from him, made myself presentable and with the promise, that I would see what I could do for him, I headed for the door.

"And how is the man called, who helps a supposed rebel in return for a fuck?"

His sarcastic question hung in the air like a thunderstorm, that could come down upon us every second. I turned to face him and saw the uncertainty flicker in his eyes when I gave no answer.
Finally, I smiled at him and watched how my words hit him like a poisoned knife. "I'm Boromir of Gondor. King Denethor's eldest son and heir. - And your new master, by the way."

~

The guards tore and cut his clothes from him and soon the rest of his tunic lay in a heap of shreds on the ground. He was deliciously naked now, and Valar! What a body! - Lean and very well shaped, with dark sunburned skin that stretched tight over hard muscles. He was truly beautiful.

Even more when his deep blue eyes sparkled with the fire of rage, as now. Amused, I watched how the guards dragged him to the tub, where hot water emitted the scent of heavy musk - my favorite.

When 'tall-dark-and-gorgeous' was lying in the wooden tub, the men tried to wash him. Tried! I was nearly laughing tears by now. The only ones who seemed to become clean were my soldiers. My new slave instead screamed angrily, and with a fast movement he jumped forward and bit the captain of the guard in the nose.

I had to hold my sides for laughter, gasping for breath. The captain was shrieking and cursing and all other men were gone pale. My toy on the contrary, looked very satisfied and tried to climb out of the tub. A dozen hands grabbed after him, and it was a mixture between erotic and incredibly funny when they caught him by his ass and hips and tried to put him back into the tub.

He needed to be shaved, but it was impossible to come near to him. He would have hurt himself and the others, if he struggled further. Well, for the others I didn't care, but I didn't want his pretty face to be ruined. So I stood up and stretched my hand towards the soldier who held the sudsy knife and with an insecure but relieved look he gave it to me and stepped back.

Aragorn watched every move I made. Still the guards held him, but I could read in his eyes that he just waited for the fitting moment to free himself and to wrestle the knife from my fingers. Of course this would never happen. Everything was under my control and I would not let it slip. - That's what *my* eyes told him when I stared into his.

A moment passed and then he swallowed and looked down. Oh, I could have fucked him right now! My cock swelled and I was rock hard instantly at Aragorn's sign of defeat. I gripped him by the hair and jerked his head back; stroked slowly over his exposed throat with my fingertips. Then I let the knife dance over his skin in an almost caressing touch.

I removed only the wild stubble on his cheeks and neck, but left out the contours of his beard that gave him a very attracting manly look.
Now and then, my lust fervent eyes searched his, and I could see how those blue depths stirred up when they met my gaze - like breaking waves of a blustering ocean. He wanted to drown me in them and I wanted to burn his assurance away. Fire and water, who would win?

He lay absolutely calm, eyes wide with alertness. It was quiet now. In the silence, our breathing sounded like drums, and the scratching sound of shaving was like a strange rhythm. Back and forth, up and down. My own breath became more and more heavy. Somehow this whole procedure of shaving was incredibly fucking erotic. The power that I owned... I loosened the grip on his hair and let my fingers slide over the now silky skin of his flushed cheeks. Immediately, he turned his head away from my touch.

For a moment I considered to shave other parts of him, too, just for the pure joy of it. It would be like caressing his body...

Before I was fully aware of what I was doing, the knife did slide over skin again; stroked loving over sudsy calves and thighs, slipped joyful up to a firm stomach and a slightly trembling chest, circled yearning around dark-red nipples until they stood erect. Always my other hand did gently follow the leading path of the knife, almost steaming the water drops away with radiating heat. I would have loved to press my mouth on that tender skin, but this had to wait till I was alone with my new slave.
The guards desperately tried to ignore all of this, but the uneasy looks they secretly shared betrayed their pretended equanimity. The hard-on, which the most of them had, was a good pointer, too.

I took a step back to admire my handiwork and I must say, I was really pleased. Aragorn's dark skin seemed so delicious vulnerable now... My lascivious gaze fell on the unshaved dark-curled place around his half erect cock (I needed some masculinity on him. It turned me on.) - Aragorn was obviously aroused and he hated it, hated *me*. Shame had colored his body in sinful red. He might detest me, but his body remembered my touch, longed for it.

Satisfied, I gave the knife to a disconcerted guard and went back to my chair. Midway, I heard Aragorn call to me.

"Nasty bastard! - Better take this knife and kill me, or I will kill *you* for what you have done to my beloved!!!"

I stood still and then turned slowly around. A trace of menace was in my voice and a clear sarcastic undertone. "First - it's 'my prince' or 'master' for you, *slave*! Second - I will not kill you, I prefer when the men I fuck react. And third - *I'm* your lover from now on, as long as I want you of course... - Got all that? Good."

I watched, how he became pale and tried angrily to reply something, but I cut him off by ordering the guards to continue with cleaning him.

Now he lay there motionless, a sweet pout on his lips, and wanted to give us the impression that he ignored all of what was done to him. Of course my guards were distrustful now and watched him alertly. They did right. The whole spectacle started again, when they heaved him up from the water and wiped him dry...

They had clad him in the leggings and dark-blue tunic I had chosen for him and were now carefully undertaking the difficult task of cutting his nails, bringing them to a bearable length and sight. During this process Aragorn zealously made sure, that all of my men retained a keepsake of him in form of bloody scratches. Tsk, tsk. I think a woman couldn't be bitchier!

They combed his hair -cut some knots out when there was no other choice- and now it fell shimmering and soft down onto his shoulders. Oh, how my fingers itched to slide through it. I was more than aroused by now. My cock throbbed demanding against the tight leather breeches and absently my hand slid over it now and then, to ease the sweet pain.

Aragorn saw what I was doing (the guards, too, for that I'm sure, but of course they ignored it) and blushed slightly. Did he also think of our little shag in the dungeon? I glanced suggestively at him and licked my lips and he shivered and looked away in return. My whole body screamed for a good passionate fuck with him right now. He wanted it, too. He just didn't know it, yet.

Hands bound behind his back, he stood in my room, the flickering light of the candles reflected on his body.

Now, that the crusted dirt and the stubble of his beard were gone, one could see the fine and sharp-cut lines of his face. A wild fiery expression blazed bright in his fascinating eyes, turned them into a piercing ice-blue.

I smiled, knowing and self-satisfied. It was known, that there was no horse that the eldest son of Denethor couldn't tame. I was very convinced that I would have this slave under my will in no time.

Lost in the well-shaped figure in front of me, I lifted my hand and grabbed lazily one of the locks, which framed his face. And the restive 'horse' trod out... Most effectively this shabby little shit had submersed his right knee with a very fast movement in my abdomen. And I, the 'proud commander-in-chief and future king of Gondor', had no other choice as to break down in a very inelegant way and tried hard not to vomit on the ground that I faced now, on all fours and trembling.
I cursed loudly and a sneering grin spread over the face of my toy in return. He seemed very content with himself. Oh, wait, my sweet one...

After the pain had diminished, I tugged him towards the bed and threw him onto it. Although I had hoped otherwise, it clearly seemed that I needed to bridle my beautiful wild horse before I could mount it...

~

I must say, chains are truly very decorative on Aragorn.

We looked at each other. He, naked again, bound to my bed and more than furious, and I relaxed sitting in a chair and with a promising grin on my lips.

Swallowing the rest of my wine, I stood up and went over to him, sitting slowly down on the edge of my big broad bed.
I tried to touch his chest and he jerked away. I bent my head to kiss him, and he growled. I opened my breeches and he began to curse me badly. - New slaves are the plague!

I was getting impatient and frustrated more and more. I really didn't want to rape my new toy, but Aragorn's denial and resistance was hard to bear. Shit, I needed a fuck! But 'tall-dark-and-gorgeous' played the virginal princess now. Just great.

I breathed deeply and tried to calm down, but failed. So I went over to the wooden table, gripped the crystalline wine glass with a fast movement and threw it against the wall. Oh yes, this was more relieving.

Was there really no way to make him willing, without destroying him? I wanted to keep him for awhile. I didn't have a bed-toy for a long time and it would be a nice change. But on the other hand - why should I annoy myself with teaching that rebel his place? I had my body servant, and Eomer gave me everything I wanted, freely. Oh, wait... Eomer! My lips curved into a sly grin. Guess, who has a brilliant idea right now...

~

"Oh fuck... yes... use your tongue... ahh, yes... just so..."

Aragorn was nearly forgotten when I felt the boy's mouth on my cock. Eomer knows how to please me, years of practice have made him very skilled in bed. That's how I like my slaves. Let's see how long it takes to make Aragorn this useful, too.

I looked down at Eomer, who knelt naked at my feet and sucked noisily my impressive cock. Gently, I caressed the soft golden hair that flowed like a wave over Eomer's slight shoulders, and with my hand on his neck, I urged him to take all of me. My servant did not even gag, he is used to my size.

Aragorn's resistance began to crumble at the sight. Desperately, he had tried to ignore the whole show that I staged here, avoided even looking at us; but now his face was flushed with desire, his breath quickened, and he watched everything we did.

I had to keep myself from grinning. -Which wasn't that difficult, because my focus lay on Eomer, who did very nice things with his teeth and tongue now. I gripped the bedpost behind me to steady myself and used the other hand to keep Eomer still while I fucked his mouth. It was very encouraging to hear Aragorn moan lowly, when I let my seed pour down Eomer's throat. And the boy is absolutely gorgeous, he did not even loose one drop of my cum.

With a happy smile, I leaned against the post for a moment, then took Eomer into my arms and gave him a playful slap on his right ass-cheek. "Let's go to bed and fuck you properly.", I whispered into his ear and he smiled shyly. Aragorn mumbled something that sounded like a curse and Eomer darted an uneasy glance in his direction. "Just ignore him.", I told the boy and moved us both onto bed.

"Take my clothes off."
Obediently, Eomer removed my already opened breeches and heavy boots and lay back then. He knew that tonight I wanted to play with him and his cheeks were bright red in anticipation.

He likes to be kissed, and I was in the mood, too. So I pressed my lips on his slightly opened mouth and stuck my tongue inside, circling his own with fast wild movements and rubbed demanding over the wet pliant flesh to subjugate it to me. Then I moved my lips over his throat. Tenderly, I licked the soft skin there, but sucked and bit one spot till a bruising appeared, marking Eomer as mine.

I closed my hand around his cock, but did not move. After a while, the boy started to push his hips up and down to get pleasure from my hand as I had intended it, constantly moaning and whimpering now. I watched him with growing avidity and felt myself getting painfully hard again. From time to time, I loosened the grip on his cock to deny him release, and he nearly started crying in frustration. Lastly, I mercifully gave Eomer's cute cock the attention it begged for, moving my hand over it in long fast strokes.

I knew Eomer well enough to see when he is close to coming. I waited till he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to suck the knuckle of his forefinger and stopped stroking him then. "Get on your hands and knees." I commanded and shakily Eomer sat up to do exactly that.

He made those sweet high pitched noises every time I thrust into him and whimpered like a mistreated cat when he came. Exhausted, he lowered his head afterwards, blonde strands of shimmering soft hair falling into his face, and sighed, satisfied.

I slumped onto the bed and took Eomer in my arms, covering us both with a blanket. I smiled when the young man snuggled up to me, and patted his head. I like my servant. Eomer is a very useful, sweet boy.

*

In the middle of the night, I awoke and found Eomer gone. I stretched my limbs and glanced at Aragorn, who seemed a bit tense and looked as if he hadn't slept much. I flashed a smile at him and wriggled my eyebrows suggestively. He growled, but this time he didn't turn away from me.

I moved over to him and covered his body with mine, pressing our naked bodies together. He was a bit cold, and shivered slightly, because I had forgotten to cover him, too, when I went to sleep with Eomer. Oh, I would get him 'hot' again, very fast! Let's see if my plan was successful and Aragorn a little more willing now...

I slid my hand through his hair and he went absolutely still, only his heavy breathing was to be heard. I took this as his consent and tried to kiss him and he struggled first, but let it happen then. Pushing my tongue between his lips and into his mouth, I passionately rubbed my body against his until I could clearly feel him respond to me.

I licked my thumb and rubbed the wet finger over the soft swollen flesh that surrounded a dark-red nipple, then tortured the little peak till it turned hard. I scraped above it, sucked it into my mouth and between my teeth, repeated this procedure again and again, rolled this attention begging little point of lust between my teeth and let my tongue teasingly flicker against and around it. I breathed over it and nibbled it gently, I pinched hard and soothed with a soft tender kiss.

Aragorn's reactions were nearly painful gasps. He arched his back and let his head fall to the side, moaning and whimpering some elfish words, alternately licking and biting his lips.
With a satisfied groan, I let my tongue trail over the line of his neck, sucking and biting until he cried. My hands were everywhere. Red, angry marks of passion rose on his skin when I attacked and conquered him, claiming him as mine.

He was so fuckable... I grabbed the bottle of oil from the table and poured something onto my hand. In a fast stroke, I slid my fingers over his cock and then kneaded the inside of his strong thighs until he pushed his hips up against me by himself. I smiled and let my hand slide to his tight little ass, rubbed my oil-slick fingers over his opening. My forefinger circled around it and teased the tender skin there, gently first, then rough, pushed... inside...out... long strokes first, then short hectic ones.

Aragorn's hands gripped the chains. He wriggled under me in the attempt of taking control over my movements, to guide them as he wished, but failed of course. I grinned at him and pushed a little further, carefully curving my finger a bit and then stretched it again, pushing deeper inside... faster...

His lips trembled when he looked at me and I knew what he wanted. To be fucked senseless, of course. His mouth wouldn't say it, but his hot, sweat-covered body screamed for it. When I grabbed the oil again, he groaned fiercely and tugged at his chains.

I began to massage my attention-demanding throbbing shaft with the aromatic smelling oil, until I thought I would burst. When I could not possibly take any more, I settled myself possessively between his thighs and thrust hard. He gave a cry of pain, but this time I didn't stop. I just changed our position slightly and made sure that I hit his secret spot.

I wondered, if it was really so pleasurable as it was told? I'm sure that it is overrated. Of course, I couldn't tell much about it, for I never let myself get fucked. - And I never will. It wouldn't befit. As a prince and leader, I couldn't submit to someone. I also wouldn't want to. I mean, just the thought of it gave me the creeps! How humiliating this must be... But my toy moaned with enthusiasm now.

Impatiently, Aragorn pushed against me and I reached for his cock, circling the cum-dripping head with my thumb and carefully caressed his balls, feeling their heaviness, fingers lightly brushing over the tender skin. Finally, I took his hard erect member fully into my hand and began to stroke.

I watched him come. His face was flushed and twisted and he bit his lip to give no sound, but a choked moan escaped him nevertheless. So on turning... It was the culmination to my own desire. I closed my eyes, threw my head back and opened my lips to a hoarse cry, while my seed flowed inside him, an endless stream that was milked from me by his massaging muscles.

When I had given all, I separated from him with a fast jerk and laid down beside him, catching my breath. Satisfied, I turned onto my side then, face away from him, and went to sleep at once.

*

- ...Tears pearled slowly over a beautiful, pale face. Pure hatred and disgust in clear, amazingly green eyes... "Monster", the eyes told... -

I awoke with a start. My heart pounded wildly, and shakily I sat up and slid a hand through my sleep tangled hair, trying to calm down. I knew this dream, it haunted me often. I knew it's meaning, too...

It happened always when I was with women. I couldn't look into their faces. Even when they were twisted in lust, I saw only pain. I saw the pain of my mother sealed there, when she was taken by my father to submit to his lust. I had seen it...

I do not really know how old I was, but Faramir wasn't born yet.
I usually slept in one room with my nurse, but awakened by nightmares, which haunted me even when I was a little boy, I always went to my mother's chamber to find comfort in her arms. So I sleepily opened the door to her room, almost overhearing the small painful sounds that came from there, and saw what I couldn't ever forget.

- ...Tears pearled slowly over a beautiful, pale face. Pure hatred and disgust in clear, amazingly green eyes... "Monster", the eyes told... -

I hadn't words for what my father did, but it filled me with pure horror. He hurt my mother. He had pinned her down to the bed with his broad heavy body and took her with force. There was no love or tenderness, only violence.

Was this the way how my brother and I were sired? I wonder if there was ever love between my parents. Perhaps it was but the beginning of father's madness that let him act like this, or was he always such an animal?

Somehow I believe it is in his nature, like some sort of poison that creeps through the veins. It burns in me, too... Although I despise him so much, I have become like my father, and I'm thankful that my mother don't have to see it.

I don't hurt women, no, but I hurt men instead. But men aren't like women, are they? Not so soft, not so fragile, they cannot be broken that easily... Oh, what a nice little lie to deceive myself!
I know I do the same as my father did, demand pleasure and give only pain. I do it when I'm drunken, or angry, or just in the mood. Sometimes I hate myself for doing so, mostly I just accept it. It's my cursed temper, I can't control it. Seems so natural to act like this. - And am I not the crown-prince, the future king? Haven't I all the right to do what I want?

'If they don't want to love you, then you have to make them fear you!'- Fathers rule for reign and life in general, and I am stupid enough to follow it.

But I worry about my brother. It's not good that Faramir takes me as an example so much. It will corrupt him, too, and I don't want that. But he adores me, I know.
I'm also really fond of him. He is the only person I do really love. For him, I am not just someone who serves his plans. I feel good when I am with him, accepted and loved. I'm so thankful that I have him.

Faramir isn't like father and me, my brother is just 'misguided', to say so. He isn't to blame for his behavior. He just tries to deal with all the madness around us and sometimes he drinks too much to forget about all. He does not even remember what he has done while he was drunken.

In some way, I still see him as an innocent child. He just wants to be loved, it's obvious to me. Father rejects him so much, I don't really know why. I almost think that Denethor fears him, his cleverness.

Father always sees enemies, everywhere. He believes himself surrounded by traitors and is afraid even of his own shadow. His madness is frightening. Most of the time I try to forget that he is the man who rules over Gondor. He will bring all to ruin in the end, of that I'm sure. But I haven't the strength to fight him. I think, he is the only person in the world who frightens me. I do not even fear Sauron this much.

Sometimes, when I am alone in my rooms, I feel as if father would watch me; his greedy gaze raking over my body, exposing me, learning all my secrets. Stupid to think so, I know. Not even father is capable to look through walls, is he?

Suddenly, I remembered that I had a meeting with father today and I could feel my stomach ache by the mere thought of it. Sighing, I forced myself to leave the bed.
Beside me, Aragorn stirred in his sleep, murmuring longingly the name of that elf. I watched him for awhile, how his face twisted painfully and he moaned with despair.

Unconsciously, I reached for him, my hand almost touching his face, when I realized what I was about to do. Hastily, I drew my hand back, shaking my head amused about this sudden moment of tenderness.

- ...Tears pearled slowly over a beautiful, pale face. Pure hatred and disgust in clear, amazingly green eyes... "Monster", the eyes told... -

It's just how life goes, isn't it? Either you will conquer, or you will submit. <Be glad, that you belong to the first ones.>, I told myself, and then began to dress properly for my coming meeting with Gondor's mad, fucking scary king, who is my father.

~

Father's hand was on my shoulder while he spoke. I could feel the heat radiating from it, could feel how his sweat soaked my tunic, sealing his scent there. I would change my clothes later... His broad rough hand began to wander as if to underline his words. For someone who looked at the scene from outside it would have seemed incidental, almost carelessly. But I did know better.

Father's hand drew a damp trail from my shoulder up to my spine and came to rest before things got obvious. He let his fingers lay there, absently stroking. I tried to concentrate on his words, but was getting more and more nervous, too distracting was the feeling of him. He stood too near to me. Always too near.

His breath waved hot over the skin of my neck when he spoke, made me feel strangely vulnerable.
"What have you done to your hair?", he suddenly asked with a frown, discontinuing in his long-winded speech about "dissatisfactory results".

Well, I'm used to his complaints. I could conquer whole middle-earth in just one day, and he would criticize why I hadn't made it in a half. But on his last question I blinked at him with surprise. "Excuse me, father?"

Disapproval was clearly written on his face, when he asked further "I mean, you have cut it, haven't you?"

I swallowed, trying to get a point to this odd question. "Yes... it became too long, this wasn't advantageous on the field."
He chuckled. "Ahh yes, of course. My warrior!" He laughed, patting my cheek as if I were a five year old.

His hand slid through my shorter hair that reached only my shoulders now. He sighed. "But a pity nevertheless. It suited you so fine. Reminded me of your mother, when it caught the sun..." He let his thoughts drift and I was very sure of the direction they took.

I blinked hard and searched for an excuse to leave. "May I ask for your permission to leave, father? Now that Faramir is in Dol Amroth, there are a few things more that demand my attention. So if you don't have any need of me now..."
I cursed myself for my choose of words. Why couldn't I think before I spoke? Only once?

Of course father sensed his chance. As always.
"Oh, I have always need of you, my son.", he answered, his voice slurring and intimately, "I mean, what would I be without you? Without your strength? My strong warrior..." His Adam's-apple hopped nervously and his eyes were feverish and slightly blood-shot. I did my best to avoid his look.

Father cleared his throat and covered his madness with the mask of the king. "Care for your tasks, Boromir. Your king allows you to go now." And with this, he sat down on the throne and straightened his back to become even more impressive.

A crazed sparkle was in his eyes when he stretched his fleshy hair-covered hand towards me, that was adorned by the shimmering gift of Sauron. A ring, which showed the loyalty to the dark Lord. Someday, it would chain me to the same destiny like my father...

Father waited impatiently. He waited for me to bow, to get onto my knees and to kiss the ring. I hate to do this. It isn't unusual for the king's subordinates to do so, but I'm his son, for Valar's sake! And the crown-prince in addition. But nobody disobeys Denethor. I knew that I would not.

So I knelt and bent forward to bring my lips to the ring, and a shiver crept over my spine when I heard father inhale sharply the moment when my lips touched the bright ruby, that looked like a drop of blood on the cold and even surface of gold.

Father leant forward. So slightly, barely noticeable. His gaze burnt on me and I felt dirty. I would have a bath later... Sickness was beginning to rise in me and I tried to not look at him when I stood up to leave the hall. I had to restrain myself to go with slow measured steps, fighting against the urge to run like hell.

Only when the heavy solid doors of the throne room were closed behind me, I allowed myself to take a deep shaky breath. <He cannot hurt me.> , I told myself, <Nobody can.>
And with this assurance, I went back to my rooms and to more pleasant things.

~ ~ ~

It was still dark outside, but the new morning wasn't far away when I left one of my favored taverns, still loudly laughing about a silly dirty joke I couldn't even remember fully, but knew that it was incredibly funny and that the punch line had something to do with 'elves and trees'.

It was a great night. I played dice with some stupid orcs and relieved those idiotic creatures of many coins. And I drank a lot. Everything seemed to dance around me now and to get into my way. As the commode, for example, when I opened the door to my chamber and tried to slide noiselessly inside.

But this damn commode gave a shit about my plan and jumped joyfully in front of my feet. Stupid thing. Something hurt, and I think it was my shin bone. I shrugged. I was sure that the commode had taken more damage.

"Master?", a sleepy voice said and I gripped the wall for support when I turned carefully against the rotation in my head. I said something that sounded like "Hmpf?", but it was enough to have Eomer at my side immediately. "Can I be of any help, master?"

Could he? He could.
"Hmpflargh." When had I turned into an orc? But Eomer nodded as if he would understand precisely what I wanted and laid my arm around his shoulders to support me. With unsure wavering steps, I finally managed to go inside my room and to slump in an armchair.

Eomer took off my tunic, stinking of ale, pipe and orc and carried it away. The fresh night air felt pleasant on my skin.
I let my head fall back, deeply inhaling the cool air while I waited for Eomer to return. Slowly, the fog in my head disappeared a bit.

"Bring something to eat." I ordered when Eomer stepped into the room again, and the boy hurried off. He returned with two plates. One was full of meat and the other was richly covered with berries and grapes. I grunted my approval and grabbed one of the meaty legs from the plate.

"Can I be of...", Eomer started, and I waved him away. "Nah, go to sleep." I buried my teeth in the meat and tore a big piece from it. Swallowing greedily, my gaze followed Eomer's ass till it disappeared in the other room.

This was the moment when I got aware of blue eyes, which were watching me uncertainly. Aragorn had woken up and tried to figure out my mood. He had learned very fast that I could be most unpredictable when I was drunken.

I smiled at him and swayed over to the bed, the meat still in my hand. I looked at him while I ate, deciding that I never found someone so desirable as him.

Still he was chained to my bed at night -it was better not to risk that he tried to kill me when I slept- , but I let him loose during day. Well, nearly loose. A narrow chain was shackled on his right ankle and fixed to my bed, to keep him from leaving the room. But inside my chamber he could walk freely.

Aragorn knew his place by now. And his life wasn't really that unpleasant. He could enjoy my chamber at day and talk with Eomer (Which he avoided, because Eomer didn't seem to like him very much. Slaves...) and at night he had the pleasure to get fucked by me. I really had to take care that I did not spoil him too much.

I held the meaty leg to his mouth, but he shook his head. "I'm not hungry." he said, but I decided otherwise. "Eat." I commanded and pressed the food to his lips. After starring angrily at me for a moment, he obediently opened his mouth and bit into the meat that I held in front of him.

Meat juices ran over his chin and I swallowed. Another hunger was rising in me and carelessly I threw the half off gnawed leg away and began to lick and suck the juices from Aragorn's chin.
"I think I'm going to fuck you now." I told him and belched. "You are such a swine." Aragorn said, but then grinned at me. "I know." I answered and grinned back.

Soon, the slapping sound of flesh against flesh filled the room.

Only when the first rays of sun lightened up the chamber, we finally went to sleep, exhausted but sated.
"I hate you.", Aragorn mumbled before he tiredly closed his eyes.
I yawned heartily and laid one arm possessively over his chest. "I know."

 

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