Title: The Healer
Author: Adinshe
AdinsheDye@hotmail.comRating: NC-17
Pairing:Aragorn/Boromir
Warnings:Rape
Disclaimer: Aragorn and Boromir are characters from Tolkien's story. They are not mine.
Summary: Aragorn is a healer. But to what end does he use his knowledge?
The Healer
by Adinshe
Rivendell
I let my gaze go over his still form.
Finally I was going to explore him at my leisure.
Rendered totally helpless by my potion, he was in no state to object.
I observed the thick, corded muscles of his upper arms, his strong torso, the chest sparsely coated with fine golden hair trailing down, there to loose itself in the triangle of brown curls that graced his pubis.
His lower arms, laying motionless by his side, were decorated with warrior tattoos, one green, depicting the Tree of Gondor, one blue, the Tower of Ecthelion.
The nails on his rather thick, strong fingers were short and clean.
As I observed his body, he tried catch my gaze with his, his eyes being all he could move.
For the time being however, I was not interested in his looks.
I sat down beside him.
When I softly touched his arm, he shivered.
He was cool to the touch and I watched, interested, as his nipples hardened.
Then I turned my attention to his lower body. His flaccid penis was of a delightful shape, straight, long, manly, just as it should be, adorned by the downcovered sack. It looked heavy.
I wanted to weigh it in my hand. But I wasn't finished yet.
With my heart beating more speedily now, I let my eyes rove over his firm, lovely thighs, his strong, muscular legs. Shapely calves. Rounded. Long, strong feet, each toe looking as if chiseled by a fine blade. They were warrior legs.
Legs that would hold out for hours, standing, running. Bending.
I could hold myself back no longer. Sliding closer, I took hold of both his thighs, and moved my hands downward in one strong, fluid stroke. I revelled in the feel of his hairs, his skin, his muscles. I moved my hands upward again, down again, up, down.
A small sound escaped him, hardly audible.
I smiled.
When I stroked upwards again, I let my hands linger on his groin for a moment, feeling the warmth there, and then on his sack. I lifted it, and weighed it in my hand, just as I had intended.
His breathing had become more heavy, and a fine sheen of sweat had formed on his skin.
Now I looked into his eyes. What I saw was to my liking, as everything about him was. There was a look of shock and fear, but also a look of defiance. No pleading. He was, after all, a warrior.
Well, we would see.
_____
My senses were in a turmoil, thoughts racing through my head. My heart was pounding, but I felt cold all over. What was going to happen to me? He drugged me. It must have been something in the wine. Not long after drinking it, I started to feel weak. My arms were so heavy, I could hardly lift them. I managed to get out of the chair, but it was as if my legs couldn't
carry me any longer..
I tried to speak, but all I could say was: "What......"
Finally it became too much of a strain to stand, and I fell down on the floor.
All the while I was thinking: "What's happening.... help me Aragorn, I'm sick....."
Not realizing he did this to me.
I lay on the cold stone tiles and he did nothing.
Said nothing.
Then, still without saying anything, he started to drag me across the floor, to the other room. It slowly dawned on me that he had something to do with the state I was in.
It was mindboggling.
I heard his heavy breathing in my ear as he hoisted me up on the bed, on my back, and straightened my limbs. I could not move a muscle. All I could do was listen.
And look.
And feel.
He pulled of my boots, then my breeches, my undergarments. I felt cold metal on my skin, then something slit through my shirt and tunic.
Aragorn......!
Once, I saw his face hovering over mine, and I desparately tried to catch his gaze. But he did not look at me.
Watching his unfathomable, unmoving and yet so familiar features filled me with dread.
What was this all about? What was he going to do with me?
As a chorus of pleading, babbling, demanding voices filled my head, he suddenly touched me.
Touched my arm.
I shivered.
Was he going to kill me?
But then he moved. He started stroking my legs, forcefully.
He must be out of his mind!
It felt sickening.
But worse was yet to come.
His hand rested in my groin, then he took me in his hand.
My bowels turned to water, as I started to understand.
Then, he looked into my eyes.
I suddenly did not want to catch his attention anymore.
The only thing I could do was to try to keep the fear from my eyes.
He smiled.
*
Oh, you lovely warrior, you fine man. You are going to be mine today. I have wanted you from the first time I saw you. I knew I was going to have you. I'm a healer, after all. And I have my ways.
O, all I know about the human body. Yet nothing I knew about yours. We're going to remedy that now, aren't we.
I lie my head upon your stomach. I can hear the faint growling noises.
With one hand I stroke the soft, hairless part of your belly. O, so soft. So smooth. That a man like you can have such soft places.
I lick your navel.
It tastes so good.
Gently I start sucking it, tightening my grip on you.
That soft flesh, I squeeze it.
Again, you tremble.
I let go, let my hands rove over your broad chest, the fine hair, the still hardened nipples.
Sitting up, I move your arm, and bend to kiss the long silky hair in its pit, to smell it, to taste it.
The musky smell rises up in my nostrils, and threads of desire weave through my brain.
The rumpled folds of my tunic between your body and mine suddenly seem an unbearable hindrance.
Hastily I get to my feet to pull off my clothes.
Now I am as naked as you are.
I kneel on the bed, your legs between mine.
I can feel the warmth of your belly on my member.
Then I lie down on top of you, completely covering you, and look into your eyes.
Your beautiful green eyes are radiant.
They radiate despair.
I feel your body with mine, and I kiss you.
I suck your lips, I lick you inside.
I love your soft, wet mouth, and my body is responding.
My heart beats ever faster, and my member has stiffened.
I lave myself on your wetness, and catch a soft moan.
O, glorious!
Alas, you are so unresponsive.
I decide to lie here upon you for a while, until the effect of the potion has worn off just a bit.
I'll just lie here, feeling you, looking at your wonderful face.
___
O god, I feel so nauseous.
He is doing things to me, touching me.
Licking me.
If only I could move.
I'm trying so hard. I try with all my might.
It's no use.
His grip on me is tightening and I tremble, waiting for him to start hurting me.
But he just keeps up his sickening touches.
He's gotten up. I hear the rustling of his clothes.
I wait. He gets back on the bed and lays on top of me, naked.
I can feel him.
He is heavy, pushing me in the matress.
He is all over me.
I can smell him.
It is a smell I well know.
It is the smell of one I considered my closest friend.
Now his smell feels like an invasion.
I cannot get away from it.
He looks into my eyes, his own blue ones dark with desire, and I cannot get away from that either.
What are you looking for, Aragorn?
Whatever you see, it seems to satisfy you.
What I see is a horror.
This cannot be.
It must be a demon wearing my friend's face.
But I know that it is not so.
You kiss me. You invade me even more.
I feel your member hardening against my belly.
And I know..... I know that this is not the last of it.
_____
Sweet Boromir.
Lying on top of your warm body is so comforting.
I feel peaceful and relaxed, as I wait for twenty minutes or more.
Feeling the beat of your heart.
Then, the slight tremble of your muscles.
You're regaining some control over them.
Good.
As I roll of you, I start caressing you again.
I stroke your silken hair, your stubbly cheek.
I trace your lips with my finger.
I push my finger in your mouth, to see what will happen, and your tongue tries to repel it.
Now desire washes over me again, and I kiss you hard, hungrily.
You moan and start moving slightly.
I keep on kissing you, sucking you till I taste blood.
Your eyes are so wide, dear Boromir.
I move down on you, and take your member in my mouth.
Feebly you try to move your hips, to push me of, but you're not strong enough yet, as I well know.
You taste so good.
You member is swelling in my mouth till it is hard as marble, and I can't get enough of you, I want to go on sucking you forever.
Your movements are getting stronger.
O I know very well that you are frantic.
But I will deal with that, don't worry.
I let go only to push up your legs.
I push up your trembling legs and let my eyes feast on your hidden opening, uncovered now.
Have you ever done it with a man, my sweet?
I look at your face while I lick my finger.
You stare at me, wide-eyed.
I look at your face as I push my finger up inside you, deep inside you, and see it contorting, and as I fuck you with my finger a tear rolls down your cheek.
I'm starting to feel mad with lust, my member hard as iron, my balls throbbing.
Your arms rise, and fall back beside you.
Now is the time.
I pull back, and with some effort roll you over onto your stomach.
Hastily I put some salve on my cock, and kneeling behind you I pull up your thighs.
You are shaking, but manage to hold your own weight on your forearms.
If you only knew how much your trembling excites me.
I knead your quivering buttocks, and push them apart.
Oh, Boromir!
In one long thrust I'm deep inside you, and you scream, oh, such a beautiful scream!
I slam into you, hard, moving in, moving out, my balls slapping you, you're so hot and tight and I want to fuck you till the end of time.
Now moaning myself, I grab your cock with one hand, and start squeezing, pulling.
You're going to come together with me, love.
Your sobs are coming in time with my thrusts, and it is the loveliest sound I ever heard.
Even as you sob, you are rockhard in my hand.
I slam, I thrust, I rotate inside you till we are both drenched in sweat, and I don't want it to end, but it does.
As I feel your muscles contracting around me, and your hot semen scalding my hand, I am pulled over the edge, my own scream joining yours, and I come in a mindnumbing flash.
I spasm inside you, till I feel empty.
I slump down on you, panting, and lick at the sweat on your back.
____
I cannot breathe.
He's lying on top of me, just lying there, he's so heavy, I cannot breathe.
I try to calm myself.
I am breathing. In spite of him.
Calm down.
I feel a tingling in my fingers.
I try to move them.
Did they move?
I think so.
O god, give me back my strength!
I want to push him of me, stop his foul deeds.
And I feel my strength returning.
But I do not get the time I need.
He starts touching me again, my face....
I never thought that the feeling of a finger in one's mouth could be so repulsive.
I try to push it away with my tongue.
And he falls on me.
I gag as he rapes my mouth, I taste the blood on the back of my throat.
I'm suffocating!
Finally he lets go and his eyes are upon me, cold and sparkling, watching me.
Aragorn?
Is that really you?
Is this really happening?
I trusted you.
And now I feel a pain inside me like I've never felt before.
It clutches at my heart.
It is agony.
He goes down on my helpless body and takes me into his mouth, sucking me, and I am getting hard in spite of everything, I dont want to.
But I have no power anymore over anything that's happening.
It seems to last forever, the hot burning of my member, burning like my shame, and the icy cold pain in my heart, that spreads like fire through my veins.
More of my strength is returning, but not enough, never enough, and he lets go of me and starts pushing up my legs.
No. Don't.
But he does.
Licks his finger in a deliberate way. Looking at me.
My shame and horror want out, I want to scream, to cry.
I won't.
And then he pushes it in me, deep in me, and at that hatefully intimate touch I cannot hold back a tear.
I summon all my strength to push him away.
Can't.
He rolls me over on my stomach.
Will you never stop?
He's panting. He pulls me up by the hips.
He's spreading my buttocks.
Oh god, no.
And then something hard is inside me, stretching me, filling me, and I scream.
Again and again he pushes into me, violates me, o, it hurts!
I shake from the roughness of his thrusts, my teeth slam together, and now I can no longer hold back the tears, and I sob, my heart breaking, my body torn.
I am a warrior.
Or at least, I used to be one.
I was prepared for hardship and pain.
But never was I prepared for this.
Never was I prepared to undergo so much pain at the hands of a friend.
I want to die in battle.
Please don't let me die now.
Though I wish to die.
He grabs my member.
He rubs and squeezes, excites and hardens me.
He pulls and shoves relentlessly, all the time slamming into me, hurting me, making me bleed.
Pain and pleasure mingle, I can hardly tell one from the other.
I cannot stop sobbing now, even as I feel my climax nearing.
And when it comes, and I scream out my horror, his cry mingles with mine, triumphant.
____
"Boromir!"
Boromir winced as he heard his name being called.
"What's wrong with me" he thought, impatient with himself.
"Ah, Aragorn." he replied, as he saw his friend coming slowly towards him.
"How fare you, my friend? I have hardly seen you all morning, and when I did see you, you did not look well to me."
"Indeed, you saw justly....... I am not well, though I don't know exactly what ails me." Boromir answered.
He would have been reluctant to admit to not feeling well, had it been anyone but Aragorn who remarked upon it.
"Then what is the matter?"
"After leaving you yesterday evening, I can't remember anything much.
Must have been the wine, though I thought........"
"Yes?"
...that I didn't take so much of it.
And when I awoke this morning, I felt ill. The night seemed to have been endless, filled with terrifying dreams. There is a soreness in my body and a pain in my chest, that I cannot explain."
"Boromir! That does not sound good. Why did you not come to me right away?"
"I had things to do, and I did not want to bother you."
In truth, he did not know why he had not gone to Aragorn, since he felt so ill. And he felt more ill by the minute.
It was as if another person was living inside his body, someone who was howling, making him shiver, making him ache.
"Listen to me. I very much regret that I have no time for you now. But we shall look into this. Your health is very important to me."
Aragorn, looking at him earnestly, put his arm around Boromir's shoulder.
Boromir, fighting the impulse to pull away from his friend, shuddered.
"What's wrong with me" he wondered once more, feeling slightly desparate.
"So this evening, "Aragorn continued, still holding him "you must come and see me in my chambers. I insist."
"Yes..." Boromir answered, hesitantly.
"Come on, my friend. You know very well that I am a healer. Now have some faith in me.
I'll find you a potion, never worry."
"Of course, Aragorn."
"I must go now. I am sorry that I am engaged otherwise now. Till evening, my friend."
Boromir, turning his back on Aragorn, did not see the sly smile creeping onto his face.
"Till evening, my friend" Aragorn spoke sofly, watching Boromir leave .
"I have some potions to make now."
The end.
Note: This is my first slash story. I would be grateful for any comments, be they positive or negative.