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Melkor sat languidly upon his throne. There had been a noticeable lack of excitement around the fortress lately, despite all his best efforts to keep things interesting in the never-ending war between him and the rest of existence. Even so, the dark Vala felt comfortable relaxing a bit every now and then. He could afford to drop his unceasing vigilance over the affairs of the outside world, briefly. The fortress would still stand, the goings-on would continue, because all his servants knew their place.
After all, Melkor’s authority in Angband was unquestionable. Every plan of action, every desire, every movement within and without the fortress needed to pass before Melkor for his godly approval. All his creatures, (orcs, dragons, and Maiar spirits alike), obeyed his will as the only true law. Beings lived or died based on a small, indifferent nod of his crowned head. Whole realms existed or crumbled depending on his mood. Such was the power he demanded and such was the power he was accustomed to.
It suited him very well.
Before him stood his most diligent lieutenant. Sauron had brought with him two werewolves for the Vala’s approval, hoping to impress Melkor with the way he had raised them.
Melkor sighed. He was eager to see the wolves, he had even asked Sauron to bring them to him once they were of age, but now the prospect of surveying the creatures seemed very boring. Still, he had to do it in order to keep up the appearance of being the final point of appeal in Angband. He could not very well dismiss them then and there and allow Sauron to think it was appropriate to raise wolves without his say-so...
“Bring them here, Sauron,” the Vala said, trying to hide his boredom underneath a stern tone.
Sauron brought both his hands directly in front of the wolves’ faces. The creatures stared at his hands in anticipation. Then Sauron made a swift gesture in Melkor’s direction. Without hesitating the wolves trotted towards Melkor’s throne and stared at the Vala eagerly.
Feeling Melkor’s dark essence, the wolves began panting in excitement and happiness. Melkor surveyed the sharpness of their teeth, the length of their bodies, and their general sturdiness. Far from being merely adequate, these wolves seemed to ripple with strength. Melkor could tell they were dying to pounce on something.
Sauron moved to stand in wolves’ line of sight. He was close to the throne, but there was a certain threshold he would not cross for anything, unless asked. The Maia showed his hand again, then thrust his palm outward in another firm gesture.
The wolves sat in unison. Their jaws snapped closed, almost disappointed.
Melkor’s gaze flicked over to Sauron. Indeed his lieutenant had trained these creatures well for them to respond so readily to a mere flourish of his hand. Melkor was honestly impressed, but he would not gush out praise to his servant just for that. He sat in silence, wanting to keep Sauron on edge for his thoughts.
“What dost thou think, Lord?” The Maia said after a moment. “Are these creatures to thine liking?”
“They are well-bred, that is true,” Melkor began. He stretched his hand out to one of the wolves, trying to entice it to move forward. To his shock, the wolf remained completely still. Its eyes were trained on Sauron.
From where he stood, Sauron made a low noise from his throat that Melkor could not remember hearing before. As soon as it heard the sound, the wolf immediately stood and sauntered happily over to Melkor’s side.
The Vala stroked the wolf’s snout thoughtfully. He was again impressed at how thoroughly Sauron trained the wolves. These vicious creatures were born to destroy, and Melkor could tell they were more than capable of doing so, but their every move was dictated by their trainer. Such was Sauron’s own nature. The Maia was familiar with the form of a wolf and he commanded that same ferocious energy wherever he went. Clearly the wolves responded well to such innate authority.
It was very interesting indeed to see such powerful creatures utterly tamed by Sauron’s will. Melkor felt something stir within him. Very interesting...
“Are the wolves to thine satisfaction, then?” Sauron asked, startling Melkor out of a reverie he had not meant to have.
“Yes, they are fine.” The wolf dropped its head to Melkor’s knee in pleasure. “More than fine, I would say, if I could see them in action.”
Another swish of Sauron’s hand and the wolf raised its head and trotted back over to its brother. “Of course, my lord. Thou art more than welcome to come visit the wolves’ lair, where I train them myself. Anytime thou desirest to see the wolves in their true form.”
That was a fascinating prospect. Melkor was suddenly anxious to see Sauron’s training methods, though he could not think of an explanation to give to Sauron as to why he should want to see specifically that.
“I see,” the Vala said slowly. “Well certainly these wolves are used to your hand, Sauron. You command them well.” As he spoke, Melkor turned over to look at Sauron and gauge his reaction. The lieutenant stood firm, his strong build accentuated by the black riding gear he was wearing.
“Such flattery, my lord,” Sauron said, bowing his head slightly. “Though, it is true. These wolves respond only to me. And I have taught them to behave accordingly.”
Melkor flinched at the last part. Somehow, those words had a strong effect on him and he could feel his skin prickle in excitement. Sauron had taught them how to behave...the stirrings of excitement grew until he felt a distinct pressure between his legs.
“That will be all.” Melkor shifted in his throne uncomfortably, trying to quell the feelings within him. “I have seen enough of these wolves for now.”
Sauron snapped his fingers. The wolves scrambled to their feet and ran out of the throne room. The snap had set Melkor on fire again, seeing the way the wolves reacted.
Unaware of his lord’s current state, the lieutenant walked directly in front of the throne so that he could face Melkor. “Is there anything else, my lord?”
“I’m curious, Sauron...” There was no way he could let this go now, even though part of him had no idea how to handle whatever might happen. “...how exactly do you train your wolves? How do you make them so...obedient?” Unfortunate word choice. Melkor felt himself grow hard the second the word was out of his mouth. He bit his lip in anxiety.
“It is not a difficult process. The wolves are trained with punishment and reward, according to my design, until following orders becomes natural for them.” Sauron’s eyes of fire seemed to gleam with passion. “Obedience is easy, my lord, once a creature is taught to want to obey.”
Melkor swallowed forcefully to stifle a moan. “Is it...so simple?”
“Yes.” Sauron’s eyes ran over Melkor’s form. The Vala was almost certain his state was apparent by now, especially the bulge forming beneath his robe in an obvious spot. Yet Sauron remained stoic. “I have taught many creatures this way and all of them have responded the same.”
Many questions flooded Melkor’s mind. Exactly who and what did Sauron train to obey him, and how? He knew that his lieutenant was not unfamiliar with the torture chambers, but then Melkor himself had never wondered about that until now. The idea brought with it many images that the Vala could not suppress. Sauron standing with a whip in his hand, telling an elf in chains to kneel before him, the elf complying with a heavy cry...
“So you have much experience, then.” Melkor spoke around the distracting thoughts. “Good enough for a lieutenant in my service, I assume.”
“Absolutely.” Sauron shifted his stance slightly closer to Melkor. His gaze was fixed on his lord’s body, staring intently at the place where Melkor ached to be touched. Melkor risked a glance downward at himself and saw that now there was no denying how aroused he was.
“It seems the Lord would like a demonstration.” Sauron’s voice was matter-of-fact, but the fire in his eyes had grown quite large.
Melkor’s mouth hung open at the audacity and also at the fact that Sauron had become so attuned to his desires. He should not be surprised, of course, this Maia had always known exactly how to please him, what to say and do to make Melkor favor him the most of all the Maiar in his service. But Melkor had never expected their carefully respected dynamic of unquestionable Vala and faithful servant to allow for this. Yet, it felt natural. Seeing the unyielding strength within his lieutenant now brought out new feelings in Melkor, things he realized had always been there but that he had never addressed. He wanted his lieutenant’s strength to possess him, overpower him, until Melkor was left completely at Sauron’s will.
He knew, his physical body was telling him, it would feel amazing.
Resolutely, Melkor closed his mouth and nodded in agreement to Sauron’s suggestion. He stared back at Sauron defiantly, wanting to test his lieutenant’s ability to truly succeed at this, at making him obey like the others. Melkor was not some bashful elf or a weak-willed son of man who would....
“Get off of my throne.”
Melkor paused at the suddenly gruff, demanding tone of his lieutenant’s voice. He had never been spoken to like that--it did things to him. His face felt flush and the room became unbearably hot as Melkor stumbled over his words, trying to find a way to deny the request. He held onto the arms of throne to show ownership of it...but he could already feel the way his body longed to comply with Sauron’s order. The reasons of this Melkor himself honestly did not know, other than the fact that this was part of some deep yearning within him to be subservient.
Seeing the way Melkor was as yet noncompliant, Sauron approached the throne. His muscled, over-bearing figure loomed solidly before Melkor, the fire in his eyes wild with some emotion. His voice gruff as before and very deep, Sauron said, “You are sitting in my throne. Get out.”
Melkor groaned at the way Sauron said it, also at the fact that his lieutenant had dropped all formalities and was addressing him now like he would address a servant.
Sauron dropped his voice even lower and said only, “Now.”
Something broke within Melkor at that word, the absolute finality of it, the way Sauron held himself with such confidence and command before the throne...letting out a desperate cry as his last protest, Melkor finally stood and quickly moved away from his throne.
Sauron walked calmly to the empty throne. He ran his hand over the back of it, as if admiring the stone-work or perhaps removing some stain upon it that had gone unnoticed, and then lowered himself into the seat with ease. He stroked the arms comfortably, then rested his hands on either side. Feet spread apart, Sauron sat upon the throne as the very picture of lordly comfort.
So easily...Melkor thought. So easily he had assumed the composure of a lord, easing into his position like fitting a tailored glove onto an accustomed hand. Or perhaps like slipping on a ring made specifically for its owner’s hand...yes a ring was a more appropriate analogy, more lordly for the image that was Sauron...
Meanwhile, Sauron was staring at his Vala patiently, watching Melkor drink in the sight of him on the throne. He let Melkor have a brief moment of introspection before barking out another order.
“Take off that robe you’re wearing.”
Melkor’s whole body throbbed with eagerness as he heard the order. Yet still, he hesitated. He had never shown his naked physical form to another being before, somehow it felt like exposing more of himself than he cared to...so unlike the feeling of moving as a non-corporeal spirit.
“Do it!” Sauron spoke with a hint of anger now in his voice.
Melkor shivered and complied, shuffling out of his black robe and casting it to the side hurriedly. Now he stood naked before his lieutenant, awkward and uncomfortably aroused. What did Sauron think of his bare body? He had a strange, maddening desire to know that all of a sudden, but the Vala was confused about how to ask it. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sauron beat him to it.
“Be silent,” the Maia commanded.
So Melkor waited silently, completely exposed, cock painfully hard and twitching against his stomach. His hands were shaking, so he balled them into fists to appear slightly more composed than he felt.
Time passed. Seconds ticked by, seeming like eons to Melkor. He had turned his face downward so as not to meet Sauron’s intense gaze, but the Vala felt his resolve strengthening as frustration mounted. Any longer and Melkor would be forced to scream out in impatience...
“So this is how you stand before the throne?” Sauron said finally. “Presenting your body to me in such a shameful way, without any proper respect for your lord?”
Melkor twitched in response. He tried again to say something, but Sauron still spoke before him, “Silence. It is not your place to speak, it is your place to prostrate yourself accordingly and show me your devotion.”
The Vala’s fists curled into his sides. He knew what Sauron wanted and his body was more than eager to give it. But his pride as a Vala was fighting him. Would he, caught up as he was in this bizarre charade his lieutenant had stirred up, kneel before his own throne and give himself over completely? Just the thought made him so aroused he could hardly think straight. But then he remembered his defiance in the face of Eru and his show of grandeur to the rest of the Valar...could he drop that role now to give into this unbearable desire?
“Kneel.”
The order fell on Melkor like a whip to his back, more than he could resist. And why should he resist? It was in his nature to satisfy every desire that came to mind, no matter how absurd or unholy. This was what he wanted. So there.
In one movement, Melkor dropped to his knees unceremoniously. He put his hands on the ground before him and bent his head down. Now he had exposed himself to the ultimate extent, on all fours in a show of submission before Sauron.
It felt glorious.
“That is much improved,” Sauron said, a pleased hum resonating in his voice. “I think this suits you quite well, Melkor.” The Vala twitched again at hearing his name spoken without any title or epithet, for the first time in centuries.
Sauron brought his voice even lower, barely above a rumble now. “After all, this is what you truly want, isn’t it? You go about flaunting your mastery of this fortress, ordering servants and creating such trouble for the outside realms, but all you really want is for someone to push you down and show you your place.”
A moan escaped Melkor’s lips, even though he tried to bite it back. Of course Sauron spoke the truth, such a secret truth that had never been spoken aloud. Hearing it said now brought Melkor so close to climax that he knew all it would take was a few short strokes to bring him to completion. He longed to touch himself but dared not do it without permission.
“Is that the truth?” Sauron asked and waited. Melkor said nothing until Sauron said, “You may speak now.”
“Yes, it’s true,” Melkor uttered quietly.
Suddenly Sauron brought his boot close to Melkor’s face. Sauron touched the tip of his boot against Melkor’s chin and forced the Vala to look upward, bringing their gazes together again. Melkor shuddered at the act, chin resting carefully on the edge of his Maia’s riding boot.
“Look at me when you speak.”
“Yes.” Melkor’s voice was breathy now, uncontrolled. He wanted to lick the black leather of Sauron’s boot and clean it with his tongue, until Sauron kicked him off in annoyance. Such abasement might even bring him to release...
“Yes, what? Remember who you are speaking to.”
“Yes...my lord!”
Some liquid escaped the head of Melkor’s cock as he finally said what he needed to say. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he grabbed ahold of Sauron’s foot with both hands and began licking the leather of his riding boot in earnest. The taste of salty earth and brimstone felt amazing in his mouth, realizing that Sauron must have spent some time in the forges recently. Melkor moaned as he lathered his tongue all over the boot, losing himself in the compulsory act.
Sauron pulled his foot away with force. Melkor fell forward slightly as he broke contact, immediately missing that delicious taste. The Vala whimpered in disappointment. He was so close...
“Such impudence,” Sauron said, but there was no disgust in his voice. Instead Melkor detected something like admiration. “The effort is appreciated though. Perhaps you are asking for some kind of reward...?”
“Please, my lord,” Melkor entreated, fighting back emotions that threatened to tear him to pieces. “I burn...”
“And what would you like from your lord?” Sauron asked, leaning back in the throne. “Tell me and I shall decide if I will grant it.”
“Your touch, my lord. My physical body aches for you to touch me, anywhere, everywhere, so that I may find some release! Please!” The Vala felt himself on the edge of tears as he realized there was a good chance Sauron might still deny him. He wasn’t sure what aroused him more, the prospect of fulfillment or the prospect of being denied to the point of cruelty.
“Hmmm...” Sauron said, thoughtfully surveying the sight of Melkor’s straining body. “Such a passionate request. And your body betrays the truth.” The Maia paused for a second, then continued in a more resolute tone: “Very well. Stand and approach me.”
Bewildered, Melkor scrambled to his feet and walked, with some pain considering the burden between his legs, to the edge of the throne. He stood before Sauron waiting to be touched. His skin sizzled with anticipation and longing, more sensitive now than he could ever remember in his time spent confined within a physical form.
The fire in Sauron’s eyes seemed to encompass his entire face. Melkor wanted to be consumed by that fire, to know what it felt like. The Maia stared down the Vala with mirth and apparent appreciation, clearly enjoying the sight of Melkor driven to the edge with desire.
Without anymore hesitation, Sauron grabbed Melkor by his arms and pulled the Vala into his lap. Melkor moaned with sensation as he felt contact against his burning skin at last. Sauron took one of Melkor’s hands, the hand that was not charred black, and brought it to his own groin. In that moment, Melkor knew that Sauron had enjoyed this game just as much as he did, such was the hardness he felt there. Guiding Melkor to undo the clasps of his pants, the two Ainur released Sauron’s length at last so that Melkor could admire it. Indeed, the sight was impressive.
“Look,” Sauron said, trailing his hand along the side of Melkor’s face possessively. “This is how you have pleased your lord.”
Filled with the desire to know the taste and feel of it against his tongue, Melkor moved his head downward in the direction of Sauron’s hardness. But Sauron stopped him. When their eyes met, he smiled and put two fingers against Melkor’s lips instead. He pushed inside the Vala’s mouth and ran his fingers over that tongue in such a way to make Melkor moan. For his part, Melkor felt a little bereft at having been denied the taste of Sauron’s glory, so he sucked those fingers as if they were a cock to make up for it.
“Yes,” Sauron said encouragingly. “Your mouth can do much good, I see.”
Melkor moaned appreciatively at the compliment, eager to show what he could do. Sauron removed his fingers at last, trailing a string of saliva from the Vala’s mouth. Sufficiently wet, Sauron brought those fingers behind Melkor. Using one hand to spread him shamelessly, Sauron traced Melkor’s entrance with the barest of touches. Even though he was expecting the contact, Melkor founded himself trembling against those fingers as they breached him carefully. This was the first time he had been touched so intimately and it was all he could do to keep himself from crying out at the pleasure of such a sensation.
Sauron moved within him with surprising ease, clearly skilled in a way that made Melkor suspicious. As Sauron pushed and pulled his fingers, making Melkor’s body more pliant, the Vala found himself rocking against the pressure inside him. He was not sure why, but it felt instinctively good to move in unison with his Maia.
Then Sauron brushed against a specific spot that broke the rest of Melkor’s remaining control. He yelled wantonly and pushed back against Sauron’s fingers, begging to be stroked in that spot again.
“Please, my lord, right there...I know not what it is, but it feels...” The rest of his words did not come as Sauron responded by pressing forcefully against that same place to make Melkor shiver and cry out.
“I see what you desire,” Sauron said, leaning close to Melkor’s ear. He removed his fingers suddenly and regarded the Vala seriously. The loss was a crushing blow to Melkor and he almost sobbed in lament at being teased in such a way.
“Stand up,” Sauron ordered. When Melkor hesitated, the Maia pushed against his chest with both hands until Melkor stumbled backward. The Vala only barely managed to catch himself on his feet or else he would have fallen on his back without grace.
Sauron stood up as well and moved behind him. He took hold of both Melkor’s hands, unyielding even when he brushed the charred blackness of the one, and positioned them to grab onto the back of the throne. In such a position, Melkor’s whole body was bent over the seat of his throne as he held onto the backing for support. So bared, Melkor bit his lip as he waited anxiously for Sauron to move.
Taking his time, Sauron ran his hand down Melkor’s spine. “This position works well for you, Melkor. Spread your legs more.”
The Vala did as he was ordered, though it was difficult in such a stance.
Hearing a satisfied grunt behind him, Melkor felt a thick hardness breach his entrance without warning. He knew Sauron was finally giving him what he wanted and that knowledge made him almost delirious with satisfaction.
And so, Sauron fucked him. The Maia moved at a relentless pace, bringing Melkor to such heightened pleasure even despite the inevitable pain. As his pleasure mounted, Melkor felt his spirit flutter helplessly against the internal walls of his physical body, yearning for a release that he could not give it. His physical body was in ecstasy and his spirit wanted to respond in kind by shedding the infernal skin that trapped it. But such was his unfortunate fate that he could not release his Ainu form, and so he was forced to endure the unnatural almost torturous pleasure until honest fear gripped him. He was afraid of what would happen at the moment of climax. It was likely his physical body might fly apart, breaking into pieces, unable to handle the magnitude of such a sensation...
Consumed by complete euphoria and building terror alike, Melkor felt powerless. He moaned and quivered, dying for some kind of reprieve. Then Sauron leaned close to him and whispered into his ear, “It’s alright. I have you, here in my arms. Now come for me...”
It felt like the words were whispered directly into his soul. Melkor’s fear subsided and a new sensation of warmth filled him. Following Sauron’s last order, Melkor came at last, giving himself over to the sensation with such joy. It seemed the whole of Angband itself shivered in kind as Melkor’s climax lasted a long while. Sauron came as well, overcome by the severity of his Vala’s pleasure.
When finally it was over, Sauron pulled out of Melkor carefully. He kept his arms wrapped possessively around the Vala’s still unsteady body and moved to sit them both in the throne, Melkor once again in his lap.
Aware of their new position, Melkor rested his head against Sauron’s shoulder. His lieutenant had done a very thorough and downright unbelievable job of satisfying him. That boded very well for the future. He felt his spirit tinge with an unfamiliar feeling of admiration for the Maia...something that made him bristle internally with the realization that he was now hopelessly enthralled with his own servant.
But Sauron did not need to know that yet, if he didn’t already.
Melkor lifted his head and regarded his lieutenant. Sauron stared back at his lord uneasily, not sure what to do now that the curtain had fallen on their little game. His fiery eyes flickered with some doubt.
Painfully extricating himself from Sauron, Melkor stood up and tried to look dignified, even though he could feel some of Sauron’s release dripping down his thighs. He stared down at Sauron who was looking at him expectantly.
“...Get back to work, spirit,” Melkor said eventually, trying his usual demanding tone again. “There is much to be done around this fortress, is there not?”
Sauron immediately rose and stood at his usual place on the threshold before the throne. “Yes, my lord,” he said with a prompt bow. Not meeting Melkor’s gaze again, the Maia turned on his heels and left the room.
Alone again, Melkor heaved himself into his throne with a sigh. He winced slightly at the soreness left over in his body. That would probably last a few days at least, but it was not entirely unpleasant...
The Vala looked down at his debauched naked form. He smiled to himself. It was good that Sauron was around to keep things interesting.