Never Wanted This
Rating : M
Email : See bio
Disclaimer : I own nothing except for some of the exceptionally retarded characters (ie : Daged and co.) Everything you recognize or think you recognize probably belongs to Tolkien. This story was written purely for enjoyment. Please do not rip my (exceptionally retarded) characters off without asking first.
Summary : Captured by a cruel man determined to break him, Aragorn learns that in a world where he has nothing to lose but life itself, hope is not easily found.
Warnings : Slash, rape, torture, ect. PLEASE DO NOT READ OF ANY OF THESE SUBJECTS DISTURB YOU AT ALL. (List will probably grow with the story)
Additional Notes : This story is A/U, it does not take place in Tolkein's ME. In terms of timelines, Aragorn is approximately 20 years old (in the movies he was 87). Also, I've messed around with the timelines, so certain characters ages don't match up (Denethor).
Again, this story contains slash. If non-consentual stories disturbe you, PLEASE DO NOT READ. I need to stress this, because, if you proceed with this fic and find it unsuitable to your tastes, you have been warned.
Daged groaned loudly and his head fell backwards, his body racked by waves of mind-numbing pleasure that shook his frame from head to toe. For a few brief seconds Daged's mind was blissfully blank and he was incapable of coherent thought as his fingers tightened and his body trembled in release. His muscles in his face tensed as sheer emotion overpowered the man's self control, and then relaxed as the aftershocks trembled through his muscular frame. His eyes fluttered closed and his head dropped to his chest, his shoulders bowed in sudden fatigue.
After a few minutes of ragged panting his breathing slowed to an ordinary level and he gave a deep sigh of content, absently stroking the hair of the man kneeling before him. Without even opening his eyes, he was able to visualize to perfection the scene before him. The young man was breathing heavily, pulling air into his oxygen starved lungs, his bare back rising and falling with each breath he took. His head was bowed and his shoulder length hair hid his face from view, unruly strands sticking to his sweaty face and neck while other sections stood nearly on end as a result of Daged's hands gripping his hair in his excitement. He knew, beyond a doubt, that if he were to brush that fractious hair aside, the ranger would do naught to hide from him his lips, swollen from servicing orally, or the dark bruise that decorated one cheek, evidence to the abuse he suffered continually. More evidence presented itself in the form of red welts that decorated his shoulders and back and a myriad of small bruises that covered his hips. His wrists and ankles were both chaffed from the restraints Daged liked to use, and the corners of his mouth were torn from the coarse gag he'd suffered.
"Aragorn" Daged called and opened his eyes to watch as the ranger stirred, raising his bowed head and meeting his master's gaze. The youth's cheeks were flushed and though his posture reflected his complete submission, his eyes shone with the frustration at not yet having been relieved from sexual tension. His naked body, tanned from the hours he spend outdoors, trembled, and his hands were fisted by his knees. He made a small sound, his swollen lips parting as he wet them with his tongue, and gazed pleadingly at the Gondorian.
Daged smiled and dropped to one knee before Aragorn, raising one hand and cupping the ranger's face in his palm, feeling the slight stubble graze against his fingertips. Daged paused to marvel at his prize, the awe of his conquest not yet having diminished through the six months of Aragorn's captivity. Daged was still as captivated by the youth's strong, slender body and handsome features as he had been when the ranger had first entered his life. What surprised, and aroused, Daged the most about his young captive was the innocence Aragorn retained, though it was marred and marked by the brutality he'd suffered. It was evident now, after half a year of captivity, that there was no limit to Aragorn's submission for he hated and feared his master's anger even more then the perverse acts he was made to perform.
Daged's second hand ran soothingly down Aragorn's sides and caressed his flanks before moving to relieve the ranger of his arousal. Aragorn moaned in encouragement and Daged watched in enjoyment as the youth's eyes glazed over and his focus shifted inwards as he concentrated on the hand that moved against his length. His hips bucked forwards into Daged's hand on their own accord and he ranger moaned again, his fingers gripping his own thighs tight enough to bruise. His body writhed under Daged's skillful ministrations and he came with a cry a moment later, his body shaking as he savored the pleasures he was granted.
"Wash up Aragorn, I can't have you attending dinner smelling of sweat and sex. Appealing as the idea may be, my steward would surely thrash me for such an act." Daged rose to his feet and waited for Aragorn's nod of acknowledgement before allowing the ranger to rise from his knees. Aragorn rose with a small moan of discomfort as his muscles worked, aggravating injuries new and old, and steadied himself with a hand against the wall. He swayed momentarily, his flanks trembling and his head bowed, before finding his balance and moving gingerly off towards the bathing chamber.
Daged watched him with a grin, observing the tender manner in which the ranger tried to accomplish such a simple task as walking. There would be no doubt tonight as to why he was unable to sit comfortably, and the knowledge made Daged smile all the wider.
The connection between Daged and Aragorn was born by fear, pain, and tears. There was nothing emotional between the two, and it was clearly reflected to all who cared to see for Daged would have it no other way. He knew, beyond a doubt, that Aragorn thought him cruel and uncaring, and had the ranger been presumptuous enough to say it out loud, the Gondorian would hardly have protested. Indeed, he hardly cared about his young slave's wellbeing except to insure that he was capable of performing sexually.
Aragorn's back retreated from view and Daged moved to collect his discarded clothing and began dressing. That night, he decided, he would take Aragorn again, probably more then once, and come morning his mood, having been sullied by the reports he'd completed that day, would be greatly refreshed. With that though in mind, he left, leaving the ranger alone in his chambers to suffer the demons that plagued his mind and tormented his soul.