Title: Untitled LotR # 4

Author: Abbi

Fandom: Lord Of The Rings

Pairing: Legolas/Boromir

Disclaimer: The day you see this acted out in full by Sean and Orli is the day these characters belong to me...

Rating: well, NC-17, just for fun. PWP. Be warned, this is some or more violent so if that ain't your kick, move on.

Summary: Sex, and blood, lacking in the rock and roll but with a touch of leather and pain...

UNTITLED LORD OF THE RINGS #4

By Abbi

...things became clearer as Boromir stooped to pick up Legolas' knife.

"No need to look so scared. You know I would never hurt you. Much."

He stroked Legolas' cheek, before kissing him, gently at first, and then biting into his lip, causing a trickle of blood to flow across Legolas' jawline...

Legolas scowled at him, and sucking in a little of his own spilt blood, he waited until Boromir, who was standing close to him, running his finger along the blade of his knife, looked up at him, then spat the blood full in Boromir's face. Boromir, surprised at the elf's audacity, managed to keep his eye contact steady as, with the hand that did not carry the knife, he grabbed a length of the elf's hair, and used it to crack Legolas' head into the tree trunk, until his eyes rolled and blood streamed from his nose. He felt blows connect with his shoulders and torso, and tensed his muscles to limit the damage. Boromir felt the hardness of Legolas' body and, racked with desire, ceased to hit him, intending to move on with his ideas. Pausing to lick the elf's blood and spit from his own lips, Boromir held up the knife.

"So you like to play with your blood? The colour does compliment your forest attire. Let me give you a little more to play with..."

With that, he cut the remaining threads of Legolas' tunic away, and adeptly slashed once, twice, three times into the elf's chest. The cuts were not deep, but they bled profusely, and, despite his acclimitisation to pain, he could not help but scream with each stroke of the blade.

Although his outward expression remained the same, Legolas allowed himself an inward smile, as he strained to look to the damage. He had worried that Boromir was going to make this a very half-hearted attempt at revenge, but he felt that, if he could keep him angry enough, he could be in for quite a ride...

Boromir softened his gaze a second, and his eyes showed almost adoration for the half-naked, beaten and bloody Legolas. He dropped the knife, streaked with blood, and clasped the elf's ribcage, pressing his face to the wounds and licking at them. Legolas was unsure as to whether his intentions were to make the cuts heal or worsen, but he sighed quietly in contentment. After a short time, he decided it was time to encourage Boromir a little more.

"My apologies, but I was under the impression that you were going to hurt me... not indulge me in such pleasures."

He would have said more, but the punch that Boromir drove into his stomach winded him so that he could not. Standing once more, and wiping the blood from his mouth, Boromir asked;

"Is it that you feel left out? Here, take me as you will."

He stood, as if waiting for Legolas to do something to him, and laughed once more to see the frustration Legolas' eyes conveyed, for his bonds would not allow him to move.

"Here."

Boromir extended his unscarred forearm and neatly slit the back of it. Letting the blood run down to his fingers, he then placed them at Legolas' lips, and smiled as the elf took them into his mouth, and sucked them. Then, as the wound began to clot, and the bloodflow lessened, Legolas bit hard into Boromir's knuckles. With a cry, he ripped his hand away, and reached behind his back to unbuckle the straps left about his waist that had held his weaponry to him. Casting some aside, he took a long strip of leather, and flicked it, testing its weight. Then he picked up the knife, and cut a further piece from what was left of Legolas' trousers. Legolas protested as the man forced the cloth into his mouth, and then tied the rest around the trunk, gagging him effectively, silencing his arrogant remarks, and preventing any more interference.

Standing back, Boromir threw back the leather strap, saying.

"If this is good enough for me."

there was a crack, as the strap hit the elf from shoulder to waist.

"It's certainly good enough for you."

Again and again he whipped Legolas, and his strength and weight behind his thrashes ensured that the strap caused considerably more damage than Legolas' playful attempts had previously done to him. Welts and gashes grew fast upon the elf's body and legs, as he tried hard to keep his breath steady - even in such a potentially humiliating situation, he refused to drop his detached air.

At last, Boromir ceased. He admired the raw body in front of him, and could not restrain himself much longer. Legolas hung his head, looking unusually exhausted. Boromir felt himself feeling concern, and in order to prolong his fun, took up the knife once more and raised it to Legolas' face. Legolas flinched slightly, wondering what the man was doing, but Boromir merely cut away the gag, and pulled the cloth from his mouth.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Legolas refused to respond, fixing his eyes on the ground. Boromir cupped the elf's jaw with his hand, saying;

"I asked you a question. Are you enjoying yourself?"

Legolas looked him in the eye and, pulling his still cut lips into a mocking smile, replied;

"Yes."

He noticed the expression of rage on Boromir's face, which instilled in him a slight pang of fear - there was the possibility that he was about to be murdered - and then blacked out for the second time that night, as Boromir restricted his breathing with his still seeping forearm, and dealt another blow to his throat.

________________________________

He came round to find himself, still bound, but this time so that he embraced the tree, chest to the trunk, and back cold in the night air. He was once more tied too about the waist, legs and mouth. However, the strips tying him up were all that now covered him - Boromir had removed the shreds of clothing he had been wearing at last consciousness. Having established his nudity, Legolas' next conclusion was that, having run out of solid flesh to torment on one side, Boromir was continuing to beat him on the other. He was right, but his was not the only reason for his new position. When the lashes ceased, he listened with interest to the sounds of Boromir divesting himself of the clothing he had left. He smiled to himself as, at last, he felt Boromir's hands on his shoulders, and the man's cock against his thighs.

Yet Legolas would still have screamed, unbecoming of him or not, had he not been gagged, as he felt Boromir enter him in one sharp, violent movement. He fought to regain the breath that was knocked out of him, as his body was brutally crushed by Boromir's weight. Slowly, Boromir began to move, then, as he gained confidence and strength, faster, and harder. Such was his power, Legolas found himself regretting not finding such opportunities earlier.

As Boromir thrust into Legolas, the salt of his sweat ground into the wounds on the elf's back. Legolas hardly noticed this extra hurt, as his own cock was hurting him beyond belief, it was so hard against the bark of the tree. Each time Boromir moved against him, it ground between his body and the tree in such a manner that it could not give him relief, nor could it deprive him of pleasure. This was the worst torture he could imagine, as he desired so desperately to come. Boromir knew this, and it made his own pleasure all the sweeter. Harder, he forced himself at his prey, his hands tearing flesh from the elf's sides as they clutched him so hard. Finally, shuddering violently, he came into Legolas, who gasped at the heat he felt inside, wishing he could be allowed the same relief. Boromir relaxed, arms wrapped around Legolas, enjoyed the tension he could feel through the straining muscles of his captive.

Suddenly, Boromir froze, as he heard a noise behind them. Legolas, whose keen senses would usually have detected any approaching presence, was so frantic that he had lost awareness of all that was not him, Boromir, or tree. Still clinging naked to Legolas, Boromir listened, fearfully.

Then came a voice.

"Well, well. What a sight we have here."

END???