Faramir is not saved in time

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Chapter 9: Preparations[edit]

this page added by Gabby Aug 2, 2005


“Hurry up and do it, Haldir,” Arwen sneered. “We haven’t got all night.”

“No” came the unmoving answer of the Galadhrim.

“What?” she stammered.

“At the behest of your grandmother I am to serve your command, but to hurt this innocent mortal is beyond my oath as a protector of these woods. As you insist, I will claim his body, thus invalidating the prophecy, but only after he is fully prepared, readied for me, and his desires have been stoked. And we will do so *away* from the eyes of anyone else.”

“Why you… how dare you, you impudent border guard.” Arwen brought her arm back to backhand the marchwarden, but he caught her wrist midair, and twisted it out of the way.

“No Arwen! Go! I will take him and claim him in private, not put on a show for you. My brothers and I will have him, and tomorrow after you have your father reexamine him it will be more than obvious his virginity has been taken.”

Again, Arwen hissed. “Just do it and get it over with Haldir. I have to know now.”

Haldir sighed. “No Arwen, he is unprepared and resistant. What you are asking is impossible for I, and my brothers are incapable of rape —unlike you peredhril, it seems. Leave, and I will take care of this my own way.”

“All right marchwarden. But I warn you, if you don’t go through with this, I will make your life a living hell. My grandmother will have you and your brothers transferred to guarding the rabbit pens. You had *better* do it, and I will have him examined tomorrow.”

“Go Arwen! He will not be touched until you are gone.”

She turned on her heels and spun around, stomping out of the little clearing like the passing of a storm.

Faramir felt a surge of relief when the lady elf left, and waited, fully expecting the three brothers to untie him. He began to panic when no move was made to do so, and Haldir’s hand remained steadily on his waist.

“He is very tight,” Haldir quietly explained after several long moments of silence. “I have never felt anything like it. Just my fingers alone caused him great discomfort.”

“Lets take him back to our talan then, and keep him there the rest of the night where we can enjoy him at our leisure,” the pale, hitherto silent elf standing beside him offered.

Faramir again began to shiver in dread. The three of them! For males they were lovely, and their cold silent beauty quickened his blood, but this was *not* what he wanted. The only one he would willingly give himself, was to Thorongil.

“Please let me go now,” he pleaded. But the elves simply ignored him. Haldir pulled Faramir’s trousers up to his waist and closed the drawstring while the other two elves untied him from the fountain and bound his ankles together. Faramir was amazed by the ease with which Haldir hefted him over his shoulder and carried him down the dark woodland path like no more than a sack of flour. Along the way, he begged them to let him go, yet they paid him no mind, as if he *were* no more than a sack of flour.

Eventually they stopped at the base of a particularly large tree. The one elf spoke a few indecipherable words and a ladder along with several lengths of rope dropped, dangling from the branches. They tied Faramir, and soon he was being hauled up alongside the ladder to a platform high above in the enormous tree.

In the middle of one room, there was a large sleeping pallet that was covered with pillows, furs, and blankets. They picked him up and deposited him here, and stood back to regard him.

“He is actually quite lovely,” one of the brothers remarked. “This will not be an onerous task.” Faramir noted he was slightly taller than the other two, but not as solidly muscular as Haldir. His face was as fair as any maiden’s, but he had an intensity to his eyes and a masculine strength that caused Faramir to shiver.

“Should we untie him?” the other asked. This one was slightly smaller than Haldir and the other, and wore an almost constant mischievous smirk on his face. Like his brothers, he had silver-toned hair. In the dim shimmering light of stars and lantern, he had an almost ethereal appearance. Faramir might have thought he was in the presence of the Valar themselves, had he not already known these were three Galadhrim guardsmen discussing his imminent rape.

“Rúmil, for now leave his wrists bound, but lets disrobe him,” Haldir answered. Immediately the elves’ hands were upon him, and his leggings and boots were pulled away. The brothers had a light and skillful touch. They pulled his bound wrists above his head, and used a clip to latch them to the base of the pallet.

“Please let me go,” was Faramir’s weak protest as the hands moved across his body. “I will swear to them I am no longer untried.” The elves laughed, and, by way of answer, the smaller elf leaned down and licked his nipple, sending shivers through his body that ended with a warm tingle in his flaccid groin.

“Orophin,” Haldir signaled to the taller who nodded back to his brother and began to undress. Faramir watched in fascination; Orophin was stunning, the silvery hair shimmering contrasted against his white skin. His long sex and bobbed playfully from the root of his body while he knelt and wrapped his arms around Faramir’s back, pulling him towards his chest. Despite Faramir’s dread and protest, the feel of the elf’s body aligned with his own made his cock stir and harden. Never in his life had he felt another man’s body embracing him like this. Orophin began to kiss him, first on the neck and face before insistently covering his mouth while a wet tongue insinuated itself between his lips.

Faramir had never felt anything so wonderful as the sensation of the elf’s body against his own. From his peripheral vision, he could see the other two undressing and climbing onto the palate alongside him. Both began kissing and stroking him with wet lips and gentle palms. His nipples were tweaked and suckled, his hair toyed with. They playfully bit his ears and thrust their tongues in and out. As soon as one pulled back fro his lips, another came in for a taste.

Orophin began to move down, first across Faramir’s scraggly-bearded chin, and then to his chest. His lips traced a tender line along his belly- little erotic kisses and licks leaving a cool trail of wetness in their path. Orophin reached the tip of Faramir’s cock rather quickly, and he settled in for a series of tiny swipes with his tongue; little laps repeated over and over as each drop of nectar seeped out from the constantly weeping tip of Faramir’s now stiff erection.

As the elves continued their assault, Faramir found himself moaning and writhing. He was about to protest again but instead he shuddered after feeling Orophin’s rocklike shaft jabbing against his thigh. The assault continued. A few minutes later Faramir found himself rolled to his side, and fingers once again found his backside entry. This time instead of grinding harshly inside of him, they only ghosted along the ring of muscle, tickling and teasing before the pad of a thumb circled slowly, pressing with just the slightest pressure. The head of his cock slipped fully into Orophin’s mouth and the velvety smooth suction almost drove him over the top.

Orophin pulled back and looked up, purring to his brothers. “The mortal is taunt and ready to let go… do we have something to hold him back?” Wordlessly a shiny brass ring was produced and Orophin slipped down Faramir’s length, fitting it snuggly at the base.

The smaller elf, Rúmil, positioned himself behind Faramir and brought his face close between his buttocks. His hands pulled the round muscles open. Soon, the most amazing thing of Faramir’s entire life happened, he felt a wet tongue touch him there and then *lick* sensitive muscle of his anus. Then a series of kisses and more licks—wet and ticking but driving him mad with wanton pleasure.

“Faramir,” Haldir hissed in his ear, “we are going to use you until you are falling over with exhaustion. You do know what that means don’t you? You won’t be able to sit down much less walk tomorrow.” He laughed and added, “and I wouldn’t plan on riding a horse.”

Though he was too busy moaning to answer, Faramir knew, and he could not deny that he wanted it. Yet despite the pleasure that was practically painful, he still could not simply throw off the decision he had made to give himself to Thorongil. “Please…” Faramir whimpered as he again began to protest. “Please let me go…” he murmured between sweet assertive kisses from Haldir’s lips. But just when he started to jerk to sit up, Rúmil’s tongue stabbed deeply into his anus and Orophin took him fully into the silken wetness of his mouth. After that, he was lost and collapsed with a sigh.

Haldir laughed at the wanton helplessness the man was drowning in. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Prepare him for me Rúmil.”

It was a slow process, but there was no pain this time—nothing but helpless pleasure as Rúmil brought his oiled fingers to Faramir’s opening. First there was only one, wiggling inside him in the same path the wet tongue had delved. Rúmil’s finger curled inside him and began to slide back and forth. One finger in and out of Faramir’s passage, stimulating the sensitive ring, making Faramir hungry and surrendering. Rúmil pulled his finger back, and the tongue was returned, spearing in and out of him, while another hand slid between his legs and tenderly massaged his testicles.

Faramir was practically screaming in frustrated pleasure. He would have erupted his release a half a dozen times were it not for the ring that now cruelly squeezed the base of his shaft. He groaned with relief when two oiled fingers breached him and, despite the initial discomfort, he found himself rocking over them. Rúmil thrust far inside him and curled his fingers, rubbing, stroking and thrusting, twirling and pressing—soon there were three fingers and plenty of sweet oil until Faramir’s buttocks were slick with it.

There was something about the way the fingers curled and moved; each time they did, a jolt of pleasure so sublime coursed through Faramir’s body, he thought he would crack in half. He was practically screaming in frustration. “Please please,” he cried. “Don’t torture me like this, please.”

“You need more sweet mortal?” Haldir teased.

“Oh Valar yes… please! Anything.”





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