#Sauron refusing to mind his own business while his exes fuck

[gingeragenda]

Freed - all chapters in one

Part 4 of Dream a Little Dream of Me (Your Worst Nightmare) 🔞

Just as she had felt the strange and disturbing bond running between herself and Adar on the night he kissed her, and been nearly overcome with it when she held a knife to his throat for the second time, she felt it thrumming between them now. Adar seemed determined not to acknowledge any of this as she sat at his table, as he spoke of the Crown and the Rings and Halbrand. It was quite unbearable in any number of ways. 

He may be right about the combined power being enough, but the crown has proven insufficient once already and can she guarantee that Elrond will deliver Nenya? She sees she must take control of the situation and so rather than letting him depart she tells him, “Yes, Halbrand is Sauron, He’s in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow him to dominate my kind. And yours.”

“Every kind in Middle Earth.”

“But he will not attempt escape until his task is complete. And that gives us momentary advantage.”

“Us?”

“Unlock me.”

As he leans in close to remove the manacle, the thin bond between them flares and she thinks again on the taunting narrative she had endured while caged. She does not know what to believe. She is almost certain Sauron has indeed taken Adar as a lover in the past, but how can she broach this? The notion of a much needed alliance still hangs in the balance and what if she is wrong? She might have to let her fëa slip away out of sheer embarrassment if she makes such a suggestion and it turns out to be yet another of Sauron’s deceptions. She takes a deep breath: 

“You and he. For many years. You were… together”. 

“Yes”

“As fellow servants of Morgoth? Or…” she swallows, unsure of her wording, but determined nevertheless. She breaks the heavy silence between them with a barely whispered “together as you and I almost…” Her cheeks colour at the question but now the question is out she is flooded with relief. He is clearly discomforted by what she asks, and yet she sees a yearning in his eyes. Perhaps he is as tempted as her by the prospect of confessing all to someone who understands what it is to fall so completely under the spell of Sauron.

Perhaps an admission of her own would loosen his tongue. “The time I spent with him was but a blink of the eye by comparison, and that was all it took for him to worm his way into my mind. He has left something in me, not just a puncture, but something running through it, a thread made of burning desire. You know of what I speak. Did this sordid abomination originate with Sauron?” 

He seems far away as he speaks, “No this was Morgoth’s doing. He was determined to create new life. When he made the Moriondor not all of us responded the same to his… treatments. Most of the others were content to fulfil their role once he had worked his corruption into their flesh. I refused to breed with unwilling captives and so he placed this curse upon me, to be beholden to an irresistible urge to mate.” 

“You are able to resist though, you have proven this to me.”

“That is only how it was at first. To my eternal shame.” 

She sees how heavily the guilt weighs on him, but there is more she needs to understand, “What changed?”

“His servant took an interest in me.”

“Sauron. What did he do?”

“I am no sorcerer, to this day I know not how he did this thing, only that the unmoored desire was bound to him alone.”

“I do not understand. What is the benefit to him?”

Adar does not know how to answer. He feels no certainty any more regarding Sauron’s intentions, and cannot fathom how to even begin to recount everything that passed between the two of them. Would Galadriel think him insane if he tried to explain that the fearsome dark lord is simply a needy, selfish bitch eternally bereft of cock? Is it more or less absurd to articulate his fear that there is some entirely unseen threat connected to it all, that Sauron has somehow devised a way to take control of all Middle Earth via sex magic? Is it too unbearable an humiliation to confess that he was so enamoured with the beautiful Maia that at the time he genuinely believed Sauron wanted to help, to ease his suffering? That he believed the bond would allow him children, of his own, to keep and raise. Children of their own, to love. 

Instead he presses on with his tale. “When I used the crown to slay him, I thought I had been freed completely. For centuries I was unburdened, but then Halbrand was brought before me as a prisoner. I believe he used this encounter to reignite the spell. As I say, workings of this nature are beyond my ken.”

“You did not recognise him at Tirharad? You are sure it was not awakened when we - I - when you were taken captive?”

“I am certain, I felt nothing until that day in Mordor. Then it was if a fog fell over my mind and the longer we spoke the greater a hold he had over me. He lay his head at my feet in submission and I almost - but I released him. I had him and I let him go.”

She knows it is hypocritical to take umbrage at Adar’s failure to contain the enemy when he had opportunity, but cannot keep her voice entirely free from irritation, “Clearly that was not the end of it, what then?”

“He started visiting my dreams instead.”

“What happened in these dreams?”

Adar will not meet her eyes, and Galadriel is once again struck by the urgency of their situation. Sauron’s tale may have been intended to taunt and frustrate her, but it had also allowed her to investigate the veins of Morgoth’s magic that ran between them. Adar may not understand anything of the sorcery that works within him but she does; she can feel the possibility of bending this power to their advantage. She cannot afford his coyness when they have work to do. This is motivation enough to overcome her own reticence on the subject, and it all falls firm and fast from her lips:

“You have no need to hide from me. He has visited me also, there have been no visions since we parted ways, but a voice has whispered in my ear. He has told me what you were to each other. So there can be no misunderstanding between us, I will be plain; he has been most detailed in the physical nature of your relationship and I have come to believe that the act itself is key in the manipulation of this magic. He has lent some part of it to me, you know this, you have felt it. I believe it was to aid in his efforts to seduce me before he bade me become his Queen. I can transfer it back to you, I can teach you how to take hold of it and mould it yourself. Look at how desperate he is to draw people to him; even as he craves dominion over the world he wants to rule with someone at his side. You have tried to slay him once and still he reaches out to you. Let me help you turn this thing into something to be wielded against him. Then you and I. Uruk. You and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world.”

He had watched her in rapt silence, and she thought she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes at the notion of finding a redeeming purpose for the curse upon him. 

“What do you require me?”

“We must join our bodies together so that I may first ascertain how to manipulate the spell. It may take some time and… multiple attempts.”

“No.”

“No?” She thought that they understood each other, that he saw the necessity in mastering whatever weapon they had at their disposal.

“It will not work. You have just acknowledged that he has a hole into both our minds, and he is drawn in by our desire so he can turn it to his own perverted ends. He will see what you are about and you will have no chance to experiment before he puts a stop to it.”

“Then it will be your task to hold his full attention. I will do my work and you will ensure he cannot possibly think of anything else. You have experience of his preferences, what will captivate him? What will keep his eye fixed on you alone?”

“No matter what we do, I fear he will seek to feel it through you, your body.”

“What makes you say this?” A vague feeling of offence bubbles up in her chest, is he suggesting it is impossible Sauron would wish to ravish her, that she is an unworthy lover compared to Adar? 

“I have experience of his preferences,” he echoes dryly, he pauses then, a hint of the earlier reluctance creeping over his face, “and his last visit was different, he came not as himself but as you.”

Her face heats at the thought, surprised how much she wants to know what Adar chose to do with her body. The anger she feels at Sauron choosing to wear her like some wedding night lingerie does little to diminish her arousal. But she must not allow herself to be sidetracked.

“Adar please, you know him better than any that walk this earth, surely you can think of something more tempting for him than to be treated like a bitch in heat?”

She does not recall having heard him laugh before and it is rather disquieting. The wretched timbre of his voice is worse as he shares the conclusion he has come to. “He loves the power he wields over me, I betrayed him and he wishes to see me suffer, if he sees I am in torment, overtaken by the urge to mate, I think that would entice him.”

“You believe he would choose to taunt you as you raped me?” She hopes she has misinterpreted Adar’s meaning. 

“Lady Galadriel, I have neither the time nor the heart to tell you of the foul tortures Sauron has devised, and even I do not know the whole of what has been wreaked upon him. He is twisted beyond reckoning. So if you trust my knowledge of him as you claim, you must accept my judgment that this is the only sure way to keep him focused on my mind.”

She is determined to proceed, even though his words chill her. There is no other choice and they must negotiate the terms of this particular alliance with haste. “We shall make it a game then, a show. He has mocked my presumed innocence enough that he will not be suspicious if I resist. You will understand that I go into this willingly and that you must not stop until I have transferred every shred of this magic back to you.” She does trust Adar’s judgment in this: there will be a limited window to get this done before Sauron gleans their plans. They must not fail. “Whatever you need to do, I shall weather it.”

“We shall see,” he says softly, eyes drifting down across her body. His demeanour is shifting, easing, the wariness he has shown throughout the most intense dinner engagement Galadriel has ever endured dissipating. She is momentarily startled by his scornful tone as he stalks up to her asking, “Is there anything else you need, for your witchcraft?” But then remembers her role and is pleased he is committing to his own. She shakes her head mutely as she stares up at him.

“Good.”

Sharp pain blossoms around her arm as the pointed fingertips of his gauntlet dig into her, he swings her round and pushes her against the edge of the table. He sweeps some dishes onto the ground then bends her face down onto the empty surface, metal spikes now resting firm against the small of her back. A jolt of panic runs through her as his bared hand tears at her breeches, pulling them down around her thighs, exposing her cheeks to the cold air. The pressure of the table edge and the friction of the bunched fabric tease at her centre with barely enough pressure and she realises that she has lost all focus on the task at hand. She steadies her mind, channels her body’s pulsing need and starts to weave it into the edges of the dark thread within her. 

———

Adar’s whole body sings at the skin on skin contact as he runs his hand across her bare backside. He does not need to feign the desire to take her, but knows he must work to be convincing in both outward savagery and inner shame when the enemy comes knocking. He squeezes the cheek, thumb stroking towards its seam, making her gasp at first, then blurt out “Please don’t, you mustn’t”!

His reaction is instinctive, he is determined to carry out his part in her scheme, but her words cut into the urge that drives him on and he is briefly frozen by his warring mind and body. 

And then Sauron is upon him. 

———

Galadriel feels him freeze in response to her charade and tries to push back against him in an act of simultaneous reassurance, encouragement and self-pleasure. Fortunately, after a moment he resumes, this time running his fingers lower down, trying to push between her legs but hampered by her rucked clothing. He wrenches them down and off along with her boots, then kicks apart her freed legs. She scrambles to push herself up from the table, but he reaches under her arms to rip open her doublet, pulling it back over her shoulders and leaving her hands tangled together behind her back. She bucks her hips trying to ease the insistent ache between her legs by grinding against the edge and he must take it as further resistance for his gauntlet grips her waist as his other hand comes down in a stinging smack to her backside. 

“Stay. Still.”

She whimpers in response his terse command, but obeys. She cannot turn her head enough to see, but she hears a rustle of clothing and hears him groan in relief and then she feels the blunt head of him nudge at her wet folds. The shock of the sensation has her reflexively flinching away what small distance she can. Another slap, harder than the first has her crying out, as do the two that follow. 

“I said be still, Elf,” he growls, then forces his full length inside her as she shrieks at the stretch and burn of it, pushed up onto tiptoes so that her swollen nub presses against the table below. She fixes on the perfect pleasure pain of it and folds it into her sorcery. 

———

Sauron’s murmurings are just as he expected: in turn mocking, faux-scandalised, spiteful and lewdly encouraging. But with Galadriel there to anchor him, he is able to let them wash over him and concentrate on giving her what she needs to succeed in their task. And if that means he must fuck a beautiful Elf into his dining table then that will just be the latest in a long line of sacrifices Adar has had to make in his quest to rid Middle Earth of the Dark Lord. 

———

Despite the rough wood beneath her cheek, Galadriel feels like she is floating on waves of bliss as his cock drives into her again and again, stretched up onto tiptoes by the force of him, wringing pleasure from places within her she did not even know existed. It builds and builds and then she is almost there; she counterbalances her efforts, drawing in her climax and propelling her share of the spell into Adar. The proximity of triumph and the sweetness of their union is intoxicating and without forethought she is calling out to him to him for more. 

———

The aggravating commentary within his head comes to a sudden halt as Galadriel’s voice rings out in undeniable pleasure, “Yes, Adar, please, harder!” and his fledgling hope falters. 

“You know, dear heart, you did leave me rather unsatisfied after my last visit. It only seems fair that I should get to finish my little adventure as Galadriel and it sounds like you’ve overcome her reservations about you most effectively. I think I might go and see things from her point of view.”

Adar panics, fighting and failing to keep giving Galadriel what she begs for while groping for an idea to keep Sauron preoccupied and out of her mind. He speaks aloud so that she will be on guard, and in the hope of appealing to his flair for the dramatic. “Have you become so soft in your old age that you do not know how to use her as I do? Is the once great Commander of Angband at a loss now when greeted a captive Elf?”

He stares intently at where their bodies are joined, willing Sauron to be as enthralled by the sight as he is. He watches himself slowly withdraw from her spread cunt, until they are linked only by a glistening thread of moisture. It breaks as he moves around to grasp her by the hair forcing her to look into his eyes, hoping that she will understand the necessity of his actions. 

———

She is livid to have been thwarted at the last moment, but sees all is not lost. Adar seems to be managing to improvise in the face of the enemy’s assaults and Galadriel knows as long as they continue she will be able to bring everything to a satisfactory conclusion. He leans in, threatening, grip tightening in her hair as he reprimands her, “You and your kind have harmed both of us greatly, not to mention my children. Do you really think I would ally myself with you? You will never allow us a place in this world, believing yourselves so superior and us unworthy. How self-righteous do feel right now? Instead of dropping dead from ravishment like a proper Elf, here you are pleading to be defiled furth… WHAT? He roars, derailed by a voice only he can hear. 

He swallows hard, then rasps, “He wants you to know he would bring you back if you tried it.”

A thrill of terror runs through her, but she is resolute, and will keep to her word and weather whatever is to come. She is not expecting him to free her hands from where they are still bound by her own clothing, but he does, then tells her, “Remove the rest”. He watches impassively as she awkwardly rights herself so she can strip herself completely bare. “Now undress me, slave.”

———

While she works diligently at various fastenings, Adar is able to focus on selling his plan to Sauron. He is buoyed by Galadriel’s confidence in him; he does know him better than anyone and instead of shying away from the memories he will hone them into a weapon. 

“I think you have been feeling nostalgic of late, my love. I know I said some unkind things when you brought us to your old chamber, I was angry, I apologise. You must know that each night since I have regretted it. We had many good times there, did we not?”

“Yes.” The admission is reluctant and Adar call tell he is pouting, so tempts him further.

“I remember you telling me of how you and He would slake your wrath, and lust, when a particular prisoner caught your eye… how the best part was making them like it, witnessing their shame.”

“Yes…” now intrigued rather than petulant. 

“She is very obnoxious even by Elvish standards, let us teach her a lesson, together.”

“Very well.” 

———

Galadriel kneels before Adar, naked save for his gauntlet. As she looks up at pale skin that has been broken and remade in immeasurable ways, she recalls a phrase, All the more appealing for its degradation. She tries to focus her gaze on his stern face, softened by the strands of inky black hair that fall around it. It seems easier than acknowledging the hard cock at eye level, still sticky with her own juices. She marvels that it all fit inside her. She wishes she were still bent over and filled with it rather than stewing in anticipation on the floor, and glances back over to the table, wistfully. 

At first she cannot decipher the abrupt sensation of something striking her cheek, then realises with indignation he has slapped her with his cock, which he is now slowly stroking with his bare hand. 

“Pay attention.” Cold metal digs into her jaw as he forces her head up, “Open,” he commands, spiked thumb grazing across her lips. She obeys and then the head of his cock is pushing into her mouth, laying heavy on her tongue.

“Suck, Elf. Do it well and your punishment may not be as harsh.” 

She tries her best to seal her lips around him and position her tongue in such a way that she can carry out his instruction, but it is an unfamiliar stretch and she splutters around it, making sloppy wet noises until she finally settles into a manageable rhythm. He starts to thrust back and forth in her mouth, his movements punctuated by harsh pants, and a phantom sensation of being entered assails her cunt. She redoubles her efforts, flattening her tongue to allow more of him in, but when his gauntlet tightens around her jaw and he rams in too deep she chokes and coughs and slaps at any part of him she can reach until until he yanks her head up off him. 

Her Elven hearing just discerns a hissed, “…will not tell her she’s a better swordswoman than sword-swallower.” Then she is being hauled up by the scruff of the neck and shoved backwards onto Adar’s bed. He claps a manacle shut over one of her wrists, with none of the gentle care he showed earlier by the dining chair, then pulls both arms up above her head, looping the chain around the headboard, securing her other hand. Bound and helpless, she feels more exposed than ever to his gaze, and tries to press her legs tightly shut in a pointless gesture of modesty, but he will not allow it. Large hands envelop her knees and force them wide so all her most intimate parts are displayed before him. Ever since he pulled out of her against the table, her body has been crying out to be filled again and having him kneel between her legs, splaying her open, drives her need to a fever pitch and she knows she must have more. 

“Please.” She softly begs. 

He bends her knees up to her chest, then settles close against her body, she thinks he will grant her plea, and braces for another breath-taking intrusion, but instead he simply rests himself between her legs, hard length teasing over her swollen nub and brushing against her folds, balls grazing her backside. 

“You are in no position to be asking favours, my lady,” he taps his cock against her, a few times, making her whimper. “But you did ask nicely,” and he shifts enough to line himself up with her sopping entrance and slides inside, but only gives her a few teasing thrusts before her moans shift from pleasure to disappointment, and he is gone from her once more. 

“I hope you enjoyed that. The next time I fuck you I will not be using your cunt.” Galadriel has little chance to ponder the implications of that statement before all her attention is drawn to Adar pushing his face between her legs, lips pressed against her aching nub. He starts to tongue at her, almost gently at first but as she starts quivering and pushing back against him with tiny, involuntary spasms, he speeds up, tongue flicking wetly over her pearl, dipping into the soft, damp folds of her cunt and pushing inside, unhindered. Two fingers soon follow, and she grinds down onto them as much as her restraints will allow, needing them deeper. He takes them away instead, holding them up so she can see how drenched they are, before bowing his head back down to lick at her some more. His slicked fingers rub not at her folds now, instead brushing against the puckered hole behind. The tip of one finger breaches her and she bucks away from it in shock but this just grinds her harder against his face and as she writhes in pursuit of release, she inadvertently drives his finger deeper, sending burning pleasure through her. 

“Please I’m so close,” she hopes he will grasp her true meaning while Sauron will only hear evidence of her successful debasement. 

Adar removes both his mouth and hands from her body, and moves to collect a vial of viscous fluid which he lays on the bed before releasing her hands and ordering, “turn over.” She lays flat on her stomach, but he pulls her up by her hips so her face is pressed into the furs, knees apart and inserts a pillow under her, “Because it pleases me to have her displayed so,” he murmurs. Out loud he tells her, “You will enjoy this, Elf, and will know you are no better than I when you are begging me to keep you as my whore.” Her cheeks are pulled apart by cold metal and warm flesh; he commands, “touch yourself,” and then he is lapping at the crease between her buttocks and then over her hole, soft at first, but before long the tip of his tongue is jabbing into her, opening her up, the wet, unthinkable stretch of it making her cry out for more. She manages to wriggle one hand between the cushion and her body, fingers seeking out the place that would bring her most satisfaction, moving in time with the slick muscle inside her. His mouth disappears and is replaced with two oiled fingers pushing past muscle, burning her, as they are forced deeper than his tongue was able to reach. 

She strokes herself faster as he adds a third, growing impatient in her desire to complete her spell. If Adar senses her need, or is merely driven to tend his own she does not know, but she finds herself whimpering at the loss of his fingers, but a moment later lets out a wail of agonised ecstasy as they are replaced with his cock.

“That’s right, let me hear how much you love this.” 

Combined with the fluttering of her fingers against her centre, his every thrust has her crying louder. Her pleasure seems to spur him on and as his large hands circle her waist, urging their bodies together it feels as if he grows even larger and harder within her. She is so very close, all her sorcery aligned; tears spring in her eyes as she prepares to heave all traces of Morgoth back into Adar and with one last desperate tug at her swollen nub she is coming in long hard waves and screaming in victorious rapture. 

———

Galadriel clenches around him as she peaks, and he feels a surge of dark energy wash over his body as he follows her over the edge, emptying into her in great pulses that have him panting and groaning with the exquisite sensation of sating his body in another after what feels like an eternity. 

The sound of earnest applause rings through his mind, “I had my doubts, but I’m impressed, I think you’ve made her cry even. I am glad you invited me to experience this through you, that really was quite cathartic. I sincerely hope we will be reunited in the flesh forthwith.”

Adar sincerely hopes that their exchange will come to an end forthwith, “You do recall I have killed you once…” 

“You’ve tried.”

“…already and I am about to bring down a legion of Uruk upon your head?”

“How could I forget.” 

And with that, he is, mercifully, gone. 

Adar withdraws from Galadriel as carefully as he is able, feeling a deep satisfaction at the seed that drips from her when he is all the way out. It is replaced by a flash of shame as she rolls off the cushion, hissing and wincing at her own movements, but as she lays back to stare glazed at the roof, he sees her whole face is alight with an elated grin. 

“Did you feel it? We did it, I have given it to you, I am freed!”

Adar lays down next to her, on his side so he can continue to regard her gleeful expression. 

“And you did not mind the manner of the - freeing?”

She turns to face him, eyes still glittering with delight, “I don’t think I would want to go horse-riding right now, but no, I would not say I minded.”

“I am sorry for the nature of how this has come about and some parts of how it transpired but I cannot regret having been with you this way, Alatáriel.” 

“I am not sorry for any of it, and neither should you be, Sauron is to blame for this, and do not forget, this is but the first stage in assuring his destruction.”