eyefire | but don't make me your enemy

[That was just plain unfair, and he genuinely cannot stop the quiet moan as the feeling around his mouth seems to grab just as much at his cock despite it being untended too in his trousers. By the time he stands he is half hard already and flushing darkly as he makes his way towards the bedroom, slipping through the door and finding the mirror. He hasn't liked those in centuries, but because it was commanded, he goes and stands in front of it, all too aware of Sauron's beauty trailing him to the bedroom like a hunter.]

[ What a lovely sight complete with sounds, if he wasn't already halfhard too from his tease of a hungry uruk he would be by now. Drawing up behind him he unlatches Adar's piecemeal armour and drops it to the floor, lifting his shirt over his head too so that can join the pile. He steps up behind, chest-to-back, and covers Adar's eyes. They call Sauron the misshaper of all he touches, twisting anything he pleases, but the funny thing about that is you can always un twist too. ]

Bear with the heat, it will be over soon.

[ Like stepping into a too-hot bath the pain is immediate but it does allow Adar to ease into it even if it never really cools or lessens in intensity. The uruk's skin sears briefly, flashes behind his eyes as the sensation burns down his body, and only once it finishes does Sauron place his hands on Adar's bare hips. ]

Now see.

[ He is an elf again, unblemished and perfect, whole. If this doesn't inspire him to want to create something out of himself, Sauron isn't sure what will. He kisses him on the temple, which is now covered by a full head of lush brown hair. ]

My love ... as when first we met.

[This part he has always hated. To be shown himself in front of his master, his maker, to compare himself to the beauty that could be anything he wanted? It was cruel when he was stuck like this, when he couldn't do anything about it nor even really express how it upset him without risking anger and more mutilation.

Yet he bears it without flinching, watching Sauron in the mirror and helping him take off what he wishes until they are skin to skin. He doesn't even fuss or fret when his eyes are covered or the heat burns through him. His lip is caught in his teeth and pressed white, and fear makes his heart race more than the pain of it but he barely whimpers. He just accepted whatever it was that Sauron wanted to do to him.

It's not like he could run, especially now.

When he is allowed to see again, he is so shocked that he steps back away from the mirror and fully into Sauron before he looks down at himself, hands running over his skin, his hair, and his face, he even runs his fingers over his ears, no longer knicked and scarred like a barn cats. Sauron is still more beautiful when he sees him again in the mirror, but he was maia and that would always be so.

Adar's smile is radiant as he looks over himself again. He liked to pretend he wasn't vain, but that didn't mean he didn't miss looking in the mirror and seeing himself. Turning, he throws his arms around his master's neck, pulling him into a kiss.]

[ Sweet elf, all the more so for already being broken in. Sauron's laugh as he catches him in his arms is smothered in a kiss and he coaxes him to turn around again, to watch the way the maia's hands run down his chest and belly, fingers sliding into the iliac dents of hips, the creases of thighs ... ]

Beautiful boy. This is how I see you every day.

[ The scars are simply an overlay over the (semi) indomitable soul within. Leering over Adar's shoulder, he catches his eye in the mirror. ]

Do you want me to touch your pretty cock, my love?

[Adar had been convinced for centuries that his fëa, his form in the unseen was as sullied and marred as his flesh. So much so that he did his best not to think about it rather than risk finding out that it was true. He grumbles a wordless complaint at being turned away from the lips that he wanted so badly. he feels centuries younger and lighter, just by looking like he once had, by feeling at home in his own skin again.

His cock's ardour had been cooled by the pain and then rekindled by his excitement, but it is his words that sneak along his skin and hug at his cock before his hand ever comes nearer. He swallows and nods.] Please, my Lord.

[ His lips travel Adar's jaw and neck, kisses plucking at smooth skin; the moment he starts stroking him, Sauron licks a long line up to that uncut ear and sucks on the tip. His clothes burn away to literal ash and leave him naked, hardening cock of his own pressing into the small of Adar's back to let him know he's wanted with shallow ruts, one hand steadying Adar at the hip as the other works him over in long pulls, root to tip and all over again, again, tongue curling around the shell of an ear. ]

You are so beautiful, all mine. Look at you, fit to be fucked by a maia any day ... soft as flower petals in my palm.

[It is never difficult for Sauron to wrap him around his finger in this way. As much as his stomach had growled for food before, affection, kindness, love were the real things that he hungered for. He had known them once in abundance, found in the bedrolls of friends and the joy of his siblings, in sunlight and starlight and even in the shadow of war.

In Angband it was a rarer currency. His children tried to love him, of course, but he was not their master (nor did he wish to be) and their ideas of such things were warped, leaving Sauron as his only light. The flame that warmed him, filled him until his cup overflowed but would just as readily snatch it away again and leave him in darkness.

Not tonight, though. No. They had plans and Adar gave himself up to them more readily than he meant too. He leaned back into the feeling of Saurons cock as much as he could, he gasps and moans at the gentle teasing os his hand and his tongue, his cock is hard and ready with an embarrassing quickness as he rocks into his master's hand.] All yours, [he agrees, sounding turned on and lovesick and happy for once.]

[ Adar always likes to act like he isn't a wanton slut in the bedroom but tonight he's on overdrive when he gives up pretending, practically cooing in Sauron's embrace as he's shown how beautiful he looks while getting stroked. Sauron busses kisses up his neck and cheek, across his sensitive ear, eyes on him in the mirror as he works that length over in long, firm strokes, pawing his way up Adar's side to scratch at his ribs. ]

Look, lovely one. Look how perfect a pair we make ...

[Some of it is vanity, he had always hated each and every disfigurement he was given in the name of "progress" or, just as often, punishment, but also it is the lightness of being able to fully feel things again, to have nothing that aches and needs soothing, nothing that pulls too tight when he moves or doesn't feel at all because the nerves were long burned away.

Sauron's touch isn't a ghost anywhere on him tonight, it full and vibrant and the only ache in his body is his desire to be touched, loved, to fuck. He tilts his head to give Sauron as much room as he desires at his throat, eyes half-closed and watching them in the mirror through thick lashes as he is stroked, teased.]

My Lord, [he whimpers, because he will not last forever like this and he doesn't know if he's allowed to not.]

[ His whole focus is getting Adar to feel relaxed and keen to breed, to be bred, to be used and partly the instrument in Sauron's plans as they become amorphous ideas of a far more pleasing nature. A child to raise, a chance to have something he never could have before, and to earn it while feeling good about himself. Sauron nods into Adar's hair, laughing under his breath not at him but with him, showing him with a smile he can come; he works a slick fist over the tip faster, other hand sliding down to jerk the base. ]

You have far more than one in you tonight, my love. Enjoy this ...

Edited 2022-11-24 21:13 (UTC)

[He always had more than one in him, Sauron had long ago made sure of that. A bull who could not perform was of little use, after all. But still he had had to ask, this wasn't just anyone wrapped around his cock, it was his master, his re-maker, his only light and source of love in these dark halls.

Each stroke of his cock drives him closer and closer, his body growing taut. almost, almost a l m o s t then as his hand reaches up and back to brush over Sauron's too-perfect jaw that is cradled in the crook of his neck he finally cannot help himself and he comes, spilling over Sauron's hand and having to lean back against him so he does not swoon. Saurons name is on his lips, mixed with moans and master, or my lord and a thousand sweet nothings that he had never earned but Adar always ended up whispering to him in moments like these anyway.]

[ He thinks he loves the trembling the most, that moment where Adar is completely at his mercy and spilling over his knuckles, milked clean (for the time being) to shuddery little noises. So sweet, the nothings he utters. Sauron is obsessed. ]

Good, good boy, my loveliest one ...

[ He does miss all the scars though, but this is not about what makes him happy, it is what will manipulate Adar the best. He supports him with his body once Adar has finished, bringing his hand up to lick it clean before kissing him soundly and letting him taste it, the heady burn of come across tongues filling the senses. A moment more and he sweeps an arm under a pair of knees and carries him bridal-style to the bed, black silk sheets warmed by the huge fireplace to one side so that when Adar is laid down he is comforted by the heat, never cold or wanting even as Sauron gets between his legs ...

Just to kiss him again, that's all. He smooths down Adar's thighs and rubs thumbs in the divots of his hips, but he doesn't fuck him yet. It's made more personal than that. ]

[Good boy hits in a way it really shouldn't, the praise coiling around him body and soul, stealing a moan from his lips that are just as soon occupied with Saurons. He tastes himself in his mouth and yet leans into him more because of it.

He could get lost here, in Sauron's hands. He could forget himself, forget his worries, his wants, become nothing but the desire to taste and please and fuck. He even forgets for the moment that he hadn't really wanted this at all and that it is part of Sauron's latest experiment.

He feels light when he is picked up and the sheets are more delightful than he recalled, Adar squirms a little on them not out of anticipation so much for whatever it is his master has planned next but for the delight of silk on skin that he had mostly forgotten. His legs part to give Sauron the room he desires but he is instead just kissed, his body arching up, wanting to touch more as they kiss and his hands tangle in Sauron's soft hair.]

[ They will all hate Adar for the clear favour he is being shown and wait for the moment it falters, but while it lasts he will be untouchable in the fortress. He could challenge a balrog and it would not dare raise its blade or whip to him, not while Sauron is known to adore him.

He runs a hand down Adar's waist where he's soft and pretty, to a hip and a thigh and back up, skimming his chest. Kissing him all the while, Sauron hums happily as his hair is played with and he smiles against Adar's mouth, letting his pleasure and adoration pour over him in a honeyed wave. Not until lips are tingling do they part, and then only to fluster a cheek with pecks. ]

Say you love me, dear heart.

[ His palm runs over Adar's belly, covering his navel as he pets him between them. The root of his pleasure, so soft and silky-skinned. ]

I'm going to be inside you, right here ...

[Few didn't hate him already, he was too elven for Angband and too Uruk for elsewhere. Regardless, he thinks of nothing and no one outside of this room at the moment, his entire world shrunk down to the soft glimmer and heat that touched him, claimed him. Sauron could have carved his name in his now beautiful flesh and he would probably take it as a compliment because it meant he was still being touched.

He delights in how much and how specifically he can feel Sauron's teasing touches, pressing up against each one as much as he can. Adar is flushed and flustered and overflowing with desire again, even after so little time.]

I do love you, [Sauron feels wrong to call him in that moment, it is an insult even if Sauron takes it on the chin when it is used, but he dare not use anything else so he instead adds] master.

You are always inside of me. [Body, soul, anywhere he went he carried the voice of Sauron with him, knew where his hands would go–be it in love or anger–could not lose the taste of him.] Always with me. [But he wants him now, too, for those echoes of long ago felt touches to become realities again. He hooks one leg around Sauron's hip, drawing him closer if he will allow it.]

[ Darling little monster, is Adar. Sauron's carved weapon, currently basking like a pretty whore, utterly delightful in every way. Drawn down, he rubs the length of his cock over Adar's navel and belly, finds the groove of a hip to rut into ... makes sure, overall, he is letting him feel how terribly hard he has gotten his master. ]

My good boy ...

[ Testing out that, seeing if he gets a similar reaction as the last time. ]

Always do what you're told, don't you?

[The touch of silken skin that is Sauron's cock steals a little moan, but the good boy gets a firmer one and a low hum of pleasure reverberates from his chest. Whether he wants to admit it or not it is clear her likes it.

The question catches him off guard, and even as he wonders if he should lie his lips make the choice for him:] Mostly?

[ That prompts a laugh. ]

True, you do run me ragged ...

[ A far lighter way of talking about the fuss Adar created by running off than Sauron has put it since. He kisses him fondly, the line of his cock heavy against an inner thigh made soft and youthful by his personal magia. ]

It's the return that matters.

[Sauron had forced him into returning, and yet despite that, despite the unwanted goal of the evening, he somehow didn't find himself repulsed by his master but rather drawn closer. Would he have missed him if he made it into the arms of the waiting Noldor army? He wants to think not, yet his body almost sings as they kiss, his hands tangle claimingly in his hair even though Sauron will always own him and never vice versa.

A moan spills between their lips as he tries to claim more kisses, wanting nothing else, unable to think of anything else but the press of his body.]

[ How beautiful Adar is when he's a brat demanding things, moaning like that. He has no idea how pleasing it is to hear, or else Sauron would call him a seducer in his own right.

The hands tangling in his hair are welcome too, allowed to stay as he slides a hand between them to rub slick fingers (magia is wonderful) between Adar's legs, feathering their caress over his balls to find his entrance and rub there firmly, never quite sinking in at first as Sauron drinks down the noises he makes. ]

[That teasing hand makes pleasure rumble in his chest, his other leg joining the first in hooking over Sauron's hips, both keeping him as close as he can and giving him the most room to touch, to move, to claim Adar even as his hands and lips try to memorise and claim Sauron. His lips on his mouth, his jaw, sweet sounds falling without hesitation from his lips as he leans up to him so he doesn't miss a single spot on his jaw as he kisses there.]

My lord, [he moans, the unspoken please all over his tone of voice.]

Yes. I am.

[ Technically, Morgoth is, but Morgoth pays as much individual attention to his hoards as an eagle to grains of sand, so it falls to Sauron to organise the entirety of Angband's forces. To know them. He certainly understands the meaning behind Adar's plea and fills him with the smooth, hard heat of a finger, fucking him to the second-knuckle to get him loosened up and only adding a second to press in over his prostate in long rubs, watching him be taken apart as his body is worshipped.

He rumbles low, kissing along Adar's jaw now and up into his dark, lush hair by a perfect ear. ]

Do you want me, my love? Do you want to give me a child? Do you want to be mine until we become one soul?

[Morgoth was a distant shadow, a threat that loomed always... Sauron was different. Not just because of his methods, which like now often end in ways the Vala would not long consider, but there was something about him that drew others near more than he repelled them. His names meant the abhorred, terrible dread and much worse if the elves were feeling uncharitable but even if he did cause a terrible dread, it was not the normal fear that caused people to flee the battlefield. Not when you knew him, as much as anyone could know him.

His head falls back against the silk sheets when Sauron adds the second finger and strokes over his prostate, arching off the bed into him, his hips rolling to help. Like this they feel like any long-term lovers, capable of driving each other wild. Yet his words cause Adar to pause, his racing heart almost skittering to a full stop at give me a child. There was that good old terrible dread again. How was he ever going to do this, even though he could willingly give his body up to his master despite... everything?]

I–[don't know how to answer that without lying or stirring rage.]

[ He is not all evil, as some think. The evil deeds are in pursuit of order, he wants there to be something beautiful and enduring and obedient to both him and Morgoth in this world since the Valar have all but forsaken it. They clearly don't care, not unless Orome feels like racing through the wilds, which he hasn't done for long enough to have become a myth and legend in his own right. Sauron does not want the world to cease existing, only to obey him while it continues, so his madness is removed from the nihilism of his master's ... at least a little. The good estate of his subjects is something he yearns for, so that they might adore him.

He kisses Adar's hesitation off his lips, peering down as he turns his fingering shallow and slow, so that Adar can listen and look, see the sweat on his master and the intelligence in his fiery gaze. ]

I will keep it safe, [ he nuzzles in, earnest, ] I want you to help raise it.

[It would be easier if he were just evil, if the desire to curl close to him tasted false and foul. None of the elves would ever understand why the protests against Sauron always died on Adar's lips when they were alone, when Sauron drew close.

Here on his bed, their eyes locked on each other he cannot think he will ever know anything better than this. He was chosen, he was strong enough, he was favoured enough that Sauron wanted him, even if just to use him. The fingers that brush soft hair behind Sauron's ears do so with love and reverence.]

Safe-safe or [safe like him, a favoured tool that often ended up burnt by the fire. His rewards were always great, but so was his suffering.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject