Spider Silk by Nibeneth

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Chapter 1

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“I need two hands for this,” Maedhros said as he worked, which was a lie. He was quite able to tie a variety of knots with his single hand and sometimes his teeth, and Fingon did not seem to mind it taking a little extra time.

The king himself knelt obediently before him. Stripped of all his jewels and finery, he extended his hands as if in supplication before his lover. Maedhros could not deny enjoying the sight, even if it had taken some time for him to work up to the rest of this: fine silken rope bound Fingon at the wrists, anchored with loops around his thumbs and trailing loose ends from the knot that secured it. “It looks like you have the trick of it with just the one,” Fingon said, but his eyes were soft when he looked up. “Please keep going.”

Maedhros nodded. He lifted Fingon’s bound hands up behind his head and pulled the extra rope downward toward his similarly-bound ankles. Fingon obliged, lifting his hips and bending his body in a graceful arch. He was flexible, but Maedhros still stopped when a small noise of effort escaped Fingon’s throat. “Are you all r—”

“Did you or did you not give me three entire tiers of words to use if I’ve had enough?” Fingon said. “Keep going! I can take it. I want this. I want to be completely exposed and at your mercy.”

That was the part that Maedhros did not understand or particularly enjoy thinking about. He did not like to be exposed, he did not like to be at anyone’s mercy, and above all he refused to be bound, no matter what foolishness he’d dabbled in during his uncomplicated youth. Suffering had overwritten many old sources of pleasure for him, which was why he had been so disturbed when Fingon came to him, nearly begging him to bind me, use me, command me.

“I am not going to… to use you,” he protested. “I could not!”

“Then tie me lovingly and command me gently, if that suits you better,” Fingon said. “But the crown I wear is heavy, and for once I want someone else,” he curled his fingers in Maedhros’ hair, “to decide where I will go and what I will do.”

Maedhros agreed then, though he still made sure to collect everything Fingon had neglected in his haste: safe-words, soft rope, and shears to release him quickly if necessary. Fingon at least supplied an illustrated manual with a few marked pages, and its diagrams flashed through Maedhros’ mind now as he pulled the wrist ropes tight through the ankle ropes and tied them off.

“Keep going,” Fingon said.

“I thought I was the one giving commands here.”

“Please keep going?” Fingon’s lips quirked with a smile. “Please, my beloved lord?”

Maedhros knew he would never be able to hide his blush, so he did not bother trying. Instead he looped a fresh length of rope around the back of Fingon’s neck, knotted it at his chest, and looped both ends around his back to come together again in another knot under his navel. Again he passed the tails behind Fingon’s back and then under his groin from the front to the back on either side. A well-placed knot would nestle between his buttocks, stimulating as he struggled. At last he knotted the loose rope up the lattice on Fingon’s back and anchored it first to the harness at his neck before pulling it tight to the knot at his ankles, where he tied it off one last time before settling back on his own heels to look over his work.

Fingon’s breath was already heavy and his brown chest already gleamed with sweat around the white bindings. He was all taut muscles and glossy skin and short locked hair tumbling over his face. He was already fully hard.

“Is that comfortable?” Maedhros said, slightly anxious. It didn’t look comfortable at all.

“It’s exactly as uncomfortable as I wanted it to be,” Fingon replied. His stomach muscles rippled as he tested the knots a little. “Mmm. Here I am, my lord. I am at your disposal. Do with me what you will.”

The mingling of Maedhros’ favorite thing (Fingon, naked and aroused) with one of his least (the idea of being tied up for any reason) woke a strange, perverse fascination within him. It was so wrong, so obscene to see Fingon like this, but he’d asked Maedhros to do it. Begged him, almost. Just being restrained brought him to full attention. In the flicker of an eyeblink, Maedhros understood what he got from it: he was not trapped in a spider’s web, but held safe within a cocoon of silk. The spider’s willing guest. It was almost a whimsical image even though it made the back of Maedhros’ neck prickle.

“You order me around all the time,” Fingon said when Maedhros’ hesitation became too apparent.

“That feels different. You’re free to not do it if you wish.”

“I am always free with you,” Fingon said gently. “I know that if I say the word, you will cut these cords in an instant. I am free to feel everything you choose to do to me, and I am free to let you make those choices. I am free in all these things because I trust you.”

An explanation, and a reminder besides. Maedhros did not have to understand it to know that Fingon wanted it, and to trust that Fingon would tell him the instant he stopped wanting it.

“I’m not accustomed to practicing arts and crafts for the better part of an hour before sex,” Maedhros said at length. He ran the backs of his fingers down Fingon’s cheek. “I think we will need some time to fully appreciate it. You will not come until I decide you may come.”

Fingon grinned at that. Maedhros stole a quick kiss before taking up a fresh rope. He had not foreseen himself improvising, but here he was, stepping off the pages that Fingon showed him and which he had dutifully recreated in silk and flesh, as requested. He doubled the rope, made a small noose, and pulled it snug around the base of Fingon’s cock and balls. “Too tight?” he asked when Fingon made a small, hungry sound.

“Perfect.” Fingon twisted his shoulders. The rope creaked, and Maedhros watched a bead of sweat make a trail down Fingon’s neck. He was quivering a little, just enough for Maedhros to feel the tremor as he wrapped the rope around and between Fingon’s balls and then up to confine his penis. He tied a knot just below its pierced head that would release in a hurry if necessary, and then stroked the silk cage, being careful not to touch any exposed skin--not yet.

“Now, where shall I start?” Maedhros lifted his eyes to meet Fingon’s. They were dark and hooded and he bit his lip in anticipation.

“I am already on my knees for you,” he said. “Accept my fealty, lord. May I suck your cock?”

Maedhros was still clothed; this was Fingon’s predilection and he hadn’t planned on participating, but he’d already taken it further than he would have thought himself interested. He nodded and got to his feet, fumbling for the fastenings of his trousers as Fingon twisted and strained against the knot under his ass. Bound like this, he seemed less restrained in his pursuit of pleasure, writhing and sweating as he tried to catch sparks of a fire that remained just out of reach.

It was usually Maedhros on his knees here in the king’s private study, when debates and audiences had worn them both thin and they drew new strength from something they both enjoyed: Maedhros renewing his fealty with his mouth, and Fingon crying out with his fingers curled in Maedhros’ hair. This really is not so different, Maedhros realized as he released himself from his loincloth and guided Fingon’s willing mouth in close. Fingon loved receiving attention as much as Maedhros loved giving it to him, and this rope business was more of the same, even if Maedhros could not wrap his own mind around the idea that being bound could be pleasurable.

Fingon’s eyes fluttered closed as he closed his lips around Maedhros’ cock and took him in with one long, slow suck. Maedhros sighed and ran fond fingers through Fingon’s locks. With his hands tied behind his head he seemed to take greater care with his mouth, dedicated to this task alone. Even so, it took a little longer than usual for Maedhros to start getting hard. It was only through controlling his breath and lowering the ever-present alarms in the back of his mind that he relaxed enough to submit to his arousal.

He felt Fingon chuckle around his mouthful. “There you are,” he murmured, pulling back slightly, and Maedhros did not have time to respond before Fingon swallowed his length and robbed him of speech.

At this point in his life, Maedhros had not thought that anything could surprise him. Fingon wanted to be tied up? Very well, people developed tastes for all sorts of strange things. It was only a mundane peculiarity in the web of their existence, where a few strands of silk had been twisted wrong in the beginning, and now nothing seemed to attached where it should. Uncertainty had ceased to be novel a long time ago.

Once Fingon found a rhythm that made Maedhros hum with pleasure, however, the speed and intensity of his own orgasm surprised him. He looked down and saw Fingon’s deep, trusting eyes gazing back up, and then he was coming, powerless to stifle the groan that escaped him when Fingon swallowed around him instead of pulling away.

They both needed a moment to catch their breath afterward. Maedhros sank back to his knees and reached for Fingon’s discarded robe to dab away the pearls on his cheek and chin.

“Leave it,” Fingon panted. “I need to come, please…”

His cock was hard and dark, swollen against its pale rope. Maedhros could not help but lick his lips as he reached for it, stroking with soft fingertips, but even a feather-light touch made Fingon cry out with want. His thighs quivered and his arms and chest flexed with the instinct to rub himself, but his hands were tied, and every motion tightened the secret knot a little more.

It was not in Maedhros’ nature to prolong his torment past teasing and into cruelty. He slipped the knot under his cock and unraveled the cord as quickly as he could with one hand, and he had barely begun touching him when Fingon came with a loud, desperate cry and the creak of ropes resisting as he rode it out.

“Thank you,” Fingon breathed afterward, when all of the tension had bled out of his body and he had returned to himself, soft and slack. “You’re so good to me. Even when I like things that you do not. I just… needed that.”

“I… didn’t dislike the way we did this,” Maedhros confessed, searching for the knots that would give Fingon back his arms and legs. “I liked that you liked it, mostly.”

Fingon nodded. Ropes began to fall around his knees, and when he had his hands back, he helped with some of the cords that Maedhros had left in an untidy tangle in his haste to free him. “Thank you for indulging me,” he said again.

The ropes had left twisted imprints on Fingon’s skin. Maedhros exclaimed, kissed them, and set about massaging them away. Fingon let him do it. When his face was clean, he pulled his robe on again and nestled into Maedhros’ embrace, and the two of them sat quietly for a moment.

“This is the part I like,” Maedhros said into Fingon’s hair. “Hugging. I am a simple man.”

“Luckily for us both, I like it as well,” Fingon chuckled.

“Good. You can have as much as you like.”