Initiation by chrissystriped

---

Chapter One

---

Fingon offered Maedhros a seat and then poured him a glass of wine. They rarely met here, at his rooms, usually going out for a drink or dinner at one of the many restaurants and bars of Tirion, but today he wanted the safety of his own home — and no prying ears around them. Maedhros reached for his glass with his left hand, he still did a lot of things as if he had only one, despite his body having been made whole at his rebirth. Conversation flowed easily, talking about their families and general gossip, but Fingon felt tense. He’d had a reason for inviting Maedhros today, one he’d thought about for a long time. He took a fortifying gulp from his glass and said: “I’ve heard rumours about your grand-father’s place.” Maedhros, who’d just talked about the recent publication of a particularly outrageous ballad about the way he and Maglor had found the twins — Elrond’s coming to Aman had made it all come up again — blinked at him. 

“What rumours?”, he said slowly. 

“I think you know that”, Fingon said tensely. “I want to remind you that I did read those letters. You can’t be unaware of the secret… nightclub Mahtan has going.” 

“And you disapprove of… me and Nolofinwe going there? …it existing at all?” Maedhros had tensed, a worried look on his face. 

“No!”, Fingon quickly said and took another gulp of his wine. “I told you, I’m not going to be difficult about your relationship with my father. I just… I find myself intrigued. NOT about your relationship with my father, but with the general… practices?” 

A smirk was playing around Maedhros mouth — damn him! — and he sounded decidedly amused when he asked: “’Practices’?” 

“Oh, you know what I mean!” Fingon curled up in his chair. His face must look like a tomato by now. “Whips and chains and what-have-you.” 

“I’m sorry”, Maedhros sobered. “I was just teasing. But… correct me, if I’m wrong, but I thought you didn’t care much for sex.” 

“I don’t”, Fingon said firmly. “That hasn’t changed.” 

He didn’t want Maedhros to doubt that, it hurt enough that people wondered — loudly — at him having that ‘defect’ even after his rebirth. But something had changed. He’d been shocked when he’d found the love letters — (more like detailed instructions for masturbation, really) — Maedhros had sent his father. Shocked that the relationship existed at all, but also at how deviant the practices described were. He’d never known… not about his father, of course, but he’d always thought he knew Maedhros as well as himself. It had stung a little. It had surprised him even more, when the things he’d read, sneaked into his dreams. Not with Maedhros and his father as the protagonists, thankfully. No, he’d dreamed of himself being tied up, beaten, teased by… someone — his partner had never had a face. And his body had reacted, more strongly than he’d ever known before. 

“I tried it”, he said in a clipped voice. “Sex. In this new life. My body works the right way, I suppose, at least no one complained, and my body likes it just fine. It’s just… my mind is not in it. I find the act incredibly boring. I catch myself thinking about the tasks for the next day during it. I don’t care, whether I do it or not.” 

Fingon squirmed. Even to Maedhros he had never told this quite so openly. 

“Most men would say that the brain really is not the important part of the anatomy when it comes to sex”, Maedhros said with a grin. “But I disagree. I know this is a very sensitive topic for you and I thank you for your trust, Fingon. But I still don’t understand what this has to do with Mahtan’s… yes, let’s call it a nightclub.” 

“There’s… stories. In print”, Fingon said quickly, breathlessly, because he knew he wouldn’t get the words out, if he stopped to think. “I read them. I masturbate to them. It occupies my mind and then I like it very much. I thought, I’d like to try the real thing. But it’s hard to get in, if you have no one to speak for you and so I thought…” 

“I’ll get you an invite”, Maedhros said with a smile on his lips. “I’ll talk to some people and show you around. You’ll get to know some of my friends there. No one is going to judge you. Nothing is going to get out.” 

Fingon reached out and squeezed Maedhros’s hand. “Thank you.” He felt relieved that his cousin didn’t question his ideas. 

“I’m glad to help you.” Maedhros squeezed his hand back. “I know how it is to have these thoughts and no one to talk to. You’ll be fine.”

 

Fingon felt a fine tremble run persistently through his body. It wasn't that he was afraid, no, just… nervous. He squared his shoulders, made himself tall (he always felt like a child next to Maedhros) and smiled at the Elf — Urundil — Maedhros had introduced him to. 

“I’ll fetch us something to drink”, Maedhros said and before Fingon could stop him from leaving him alone with a stranger, he was gone. 

“Ah.” Fingon smiled nervously at Urundil. “This is larger than I thought. I mean, I know the size of Mahtan’s banquet hall, but…” 

He looked around. The room was packed full with people in magnificent clothes (or none at all, occasionally) sitting (or kneeling) around tables and in little separees, made by paravents. The stage was hung closed, a part of Fingon’s mind wondered what kind of performances were staged there. 

“Oh yes, we are not that rare.” Urundil winked at him. “You’d be surprised about who shares our appetites.” 

“I know my father comes here. Believe me, no one is going to surprise me”, Fingon replied deadpan. “It’s okay”, he added at Urundil’s uncertain look. “I’ve made my peace with my father and Maedhros long ago.” 

Urundil gave a quick nod. “I don’t intend to pry, that’s none of my business.” A cocky grin came to his lips. “So, when you decided to come here, what was it, you wanted to happen to you?” 

“Something interesting”, Fingon answered. “I don’t know how much Maedhros told you…” 

“Just that you wanted to have a taste.” 

“Well…” Fingon hesitated as it occurred to him that he would tell this stranger more about himself than he’d told a lot of his family. “I don’t care much about sex. I find it boring, my mind wanders. But I’ve realised that masturbating”, his breath hitched, because this was not a word he was usually saying out loud, “to certain stories is giving me pleasure. And I thought, I’d try it for real. See if someone here can make my mind shut up, overwhelm me.” 

Urundil smirked. “Oh, I’m sure that can be arranged.” 

Maedhros put three cups of wine on the table and sat down. “Getting along well?”, he asked. “Should I leave you two to each other?” 

Fingon blushed. He had thought about how it would be to let Urundil… do these things to him, if only because he was the first person with these inclinations he’d met, who was not one of his relatives. But he was good looking. 

“Up to your cousin”, Urundil said with a smile at Fingon. “I’d be happy to… show him around.” 

Fingon felt his heart beat quicker in his chest now that he realised he was closer to having his curiosity satisfied than he’d thought. 

“I… yes, I think I’d like that”, he answered breathlessly. 

“Alright then”, Maedhros patted his back. “Have fun and see you later.” He got up and sauntered away. 

“Relax”, said Urundil and drank a sip of wine. “It won’t start right this minute and you can change your mind anytime, if you want to. But if we’re doing this, I need to know a little more. Are there any shadows, any fears I should know about? Or anything you really would not want me to do?” 

Fingon slowly shook his head. “Unless… well, I don’t like fire that much anymore.” He had barely any memories of his death — which was a good thing, he thought — but he felt uncomfortable, if he came to sit too close to an open fire and sometimes woke drenched in sweat from dreaming of scorching flames. 

“I’ll be mindful of that”, Urundil answered. “Have you any preferences on what I should call you? I usually call my partners ‘plaything’, but I’m flexible there. You are going to call me ‘my lord’.” 

Fingon swallowed and felt a hot shiver running down his spine. “Of course”, he croaked. “And ‘plaything’ is fine.” 

Someone to be used, someone to be done with as Urundil pleased. Urundil smiled knowingly, as if he could sense his reaction. 

“And what do you imagine? You must have had ideas before coming here today.” 

“Lots and nothing.” Fingon blushed. “I mean, I’ve read… a lot. Anything I could get my hands on, really. I have so many things in my head. And at the same time, I really know nothing. What do I know about how I’d react to being beaten. What if it doesn’t work for me?” The nervousness was back. 

“Then we’ll change tack.” Urundil squeezed his hand. “Never forget that all of this is happening with your consent. I’ll give you a taste — a little domination, a little pain — there are no expectations. You can make me stop any time. Take a deep breath.” 

Fingon obeyed and felt better for it. “Thank you”, he smiled. “And I’m sorry I’m so twitchy.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Now, I have one rule myself: I only have penetrative sex with long-time partners. But by what you’ve said before, I think you don’t mind?” 

“That’s fine for me.” He was a bit relieved actually. It took some pressure away. “As I’ve said, I’m not much into sex.” 

Urundil nodded. “We’ll see, yes. There’s not no pleasure to be had, obviously, but I will force nothing. I respect you the way you are.” 

Fingon suddenly had a hard time to hold back tears. He had not known how important it was for him to hear these words. He had not realised how nervous he’d been about not being accepted even here, where everyone was different from the norm. 

“Thank you”, he said again. “Yes, I think… I think that sounds very good.” 

Urundil stood up and offered him his hand. “Then let’s go upstairs. If you feel ready.” 

“I do.” 

Fingon took his hand and let himself be led towards the stairs to the upper floors. His heart started to race when he noticed the suitcase Urundil was carrying and his mind started to wonder what was inside. Urundil motioned for him to step into the room first and closed the door behind them. Fingon had a moment to eye the bed and a rack with various… implements on the far wall, before his attention was drawn back to the other elf. Urundil put down the suitcase beside an armchair before he came back to him and circled him slowly. 

“Well, well, well. Let’s see what we have here, plaything, shall we?” 

Fingon forgot to breathe when Urundil started to undress him. 

“Now, don’t forget that you can tell me to stop at any time, but for as long as you don’t, you are mine. Mine to command. Mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?” 

“Yes”, Fingon croaked. “Yes, my lord.” 

“Good.” 

Urundil’s hand wandered down his back before he stepped around him again and looked him over. Fingon blushed and fought against the urge to cover himself. He was not overly bashful but being scrutinised like this… 

“Pretty thing.” Urundil smirked. “I’m pleased that I was chosen to give you a first taste.” He sat down in the armchair and nodded at the suitcase beside him. “Would you like to know what is inside, plaything?” 

“Yes, my lord.” It was not hard for Fingon to remember to call him that. It was court etiquette to call the king ‘Your Majesty’, even as a relative. This was not so different. 

“Then open it.” 

Fingon crouched down — he had a hunch he should be kneeling, but it felt too vulnerable without an order — and opened the latches with slightly trembling hands. 

“Not all of this is going to be put to use tonight”, Urundil said while Fingon’s eyes moved over the content. There were whips and paddles and crops, plugs and padded cuffs. “But some of it.” 

He lifted out a velvet bag and opened the drawstring, letting a pair of clamps, linked by a chain, fall into his palm. 

“Come here, plaything.” Urundil patted his thigh. “On my lap.” 

Fingon straddled him, feeling a humiliated thrill rush through him at being called like a lapdog. 

“I can see you keep yourself in shape”, Urundil said, tracing the muscles of his abdomen with a finger. 

Fingon was acutely aware that his cock was brushing the fabric of Urundil’s trousers. It had filled slightly, but the arousal didn’t reach his brain, as so often. 

“Don’t think of that”, Urundil said and laid his hand on top of his cock. Fingon took a deep breath because his body definitely took interest in that. “We are not having sex today, you have not earned it and you won’t today. I demand much more from my playthings than you can give me being so inexperienced.” 

He should be relieved — Urundil had told him before, that he would not fuck him — but at his dismissive words Fingon’s competitiveness raised its head. 

“Are you so sure of that, my lord?” Fingon fluttered his eyelashes at him. 

“Cocky, plaything?” Urundil chuckled. “We’ll see.” 

Fingon squeaked and then blushed at the sound when the clamps were fastened around his nipples. He relaxed again, when the first flash of pain subsided. It really wasn’t that bad. Urundil hooked his finger into the chain and pulled sharply. Fingon gasped when the clamps tightened. 

“I like that look on your face, plaything”, he purred and pulled again. 

Fingon’s nipples protested, pulsing in the iron grip, he bit his lip. 

“Pretty plaything.” 

Urundil circled his nipples with a fingernail and Fingon drew a shuddering breath wondering at how good it felt mixed with the burning in his chest. Urundil took two of his braids and wrapped them around his hand, tugging to make him stand up. 

“Let’s take this to the bed, plaything.” He did not let go of his hair while he led him the few steps over. “Kneel on the bed, plaything.” 

Fingon obeyed, marvelling at how gently Urundil delivered his orders. He’d expected it to be more like being addressed like soldiers were. He could not deny that it had a calming effect on him. He felt save, even though he knew Urundil would beat him shortly and do who knew what other things to him. First he laid a hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him down so Fingon sank to his hands and knees. Fingon looked down between his legs and watched him strap two padded leather cuffs around his ankles. Urundil saw it and smirked at him. 

“Curious, plaything?”, he teased. 

“Yes, my lord”, Fingon answered truthfully. 

“Good, good.” 

Urundil patted his backside then went over to the rack retrieving a pole that he hooked into the rings of the cuffs, forcing Fingon to keep his legs spread. A thrill of excitement rushed through Fingon’s body, quickly followed by another as Urundil squeezed his ass. “It’s going to be my pleasure to redden these.” 

His hand slapped on Fingon’s skin. Fingon gasped, it wasn’t very painful at first, but the sting of the slaps blended into each other, his skin warming. 

“Like that, plaything?”, Urundil asked. 

“Yes, my lord.” It was not as easy to enjoy as the stories. But he was short of breath, his heart was racing and his cock… well, definitely still interested in the goings on. 

“So you’re a naughty boy, after all.” Urundil chuckled and Fingon blushed, the feeling of shame not unpleasant. “Let’s see what you’ll say to this.” 

Urundil picked a leather paddle from his suitcase. The sting of it was much sharper and soon had Fingon’s ass in flames, sweat  beading on his back. Urundil slowly moved through his implements giving him a taste of each, the quality of the pain changing depending on what he used. Fingon felt his mind cloud as the pleasure-mingled pain mounted. He let it, giving himself over to the feelings. He shuddered, pleasure rushing through his body when Urundil dragged his nails over his burning skin. 

“I’m very pleased by your performance, plaything”, Urundil said, wrapping a hand around his cock. “You’ve earned yourself an orgasm.” 

Fingon moaned as he pumped him, his nails still scratching over his throbbing backside. He rocked into Urundil’s hand, only a little part of his mind thinking that this wasn’t really necessary. He whimpered, tears shooting to his eyes, when Urundil removed the clamps from his nipples, the pain of blood flooding back into them pushing him over the edge. He slumped down gasping and trembling.

 

“So, what do you think?”, Urundil asked later while he was taking the cuffs off his ankles. The grin in his voice  said clearly he already knew. 

“I enjoyed it very much”, Fingon said, rising to his elbows with a groan to better look over his shoulder at him. “But what about you?” 

“Oh, I’ve had my pleasure and found my release.” Urundil winked at him while he spread a cooling salve over Fingon’s burning skin. “But I don’t take offence at you not noticing.” 

Fingon huffed a laugh and let himself sink back down. “When do we have to leave this room?”, he asked, not feeling much inclined to dress right now. 

Urundil lay down beside him. “We can stay a while longer. Mind sufficiently overwhelmed, then?” 

“Very. Thank you.” 

Urundil smiled. “My pleasure.”

 

“I usually wouldn’t bring this up to a newbie”, Urundil said after a while, lazily stroking Fingon’s back, “but I think you could handle it and it surely would make your mind feel overwhelmed.” 

“Hmm?” Fingon’s body felt delightfully heavy, his nipples smarted and his ass burned but somehow — inexplicably — that felt satisfying after what they’d done just now. He still wasn’t sure he needed an orgasm, but the whole experience had been completely satisfying. “What do you have in mind?” 

“Have you ever been in an orgy?” 

Fingon lifted his head and blinked blearily down at Urundil. “I think I’m dreaming?”, he asked. 

Urundil laughed. “No, but maybe I should wait until your head is a little clearer.” 

Fingon rubbed his face. “No, I can think — I think. What is this about an orgy?” 

“Me and some people I know have discussed at several points about having one.” 

“What people? How many?” 

“Six, with me. You’d know some. Ingwion, surely, and his wife Elwende; Thranduil — everyone knows Thranduil; I’m not sure if you ever met Mablung of Doriath?” 

“Once, at the Mereth Aderthad, and then…” Fingon trailed off. Mablung and Beleg had come to the Battle that was now called the Nirnaeth Arnoediad — his last battle. 

“Don’t worry”, Urundil said, interpreting his sudden silence wrong. “You’ll have input beforehand and we won’t do anything you don’t want. But it might be part of the play to act like we would. Maybe a bit of roleplaying… I’d have to talk this over with the others, but you being so new to this could be part of the scene. An… initiation. Us trying out, if you are really serious about this, if you fit our requirements.” 

“That sounds… enticing.” A shudder ran down Fingon’s spine, settling somewhere deep in his abdomen. “I’ll think about it.” 

Urundil grinned and kissed his cheek. “Great. Don’t rush yourself. I’ll give you my address later.”