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This story is rated «NC-17», and carries the warnings «Implied and graphic non-con/rape, incest, prostitution, power games, angst».
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Simulacra (NC-17)
Written by Vanwa Hravani09 November 2011 | 30013 words | Work in Progress
Title: Simulacra
Author: VanwaHravani
Type: FPS, WIP
Rating: NC-17
Warnings:Implied and graphic non-con, incest, power games, torture, angst
Disclaimer: Glad they’re not mine, cause it’s more fun to play with someone else’s toys. In this case all the goodies belong to Tolkien and his estate. I’m the scroungy neighbor kid that keeps sneaking over at teatime. Strangely, they never do kick me out.
Summary: Faramir and Haldir reflect one another darkly.
Timeline: Those in control seem to have little consideration for linear time and are fond of revealing their story in developing glimpses that span many years. Whenever possible, I’ll tell you the general time periods and characters, but sometimes you’ll have to make the connections yourself. Depending on how you interpret, the story may play out differently.
Beta: ch 19 – Anorien. Thank you!
Feedback: Yes!
I
The horsehair swished idly against his thickly muscled thigh as he paced the small room. The man strapped to the cross faced the wall, holding his breath to listen intently. Sweat beaded on oiled skin. Feeling a current of air whisper across his bare flesh in his Master’s wake, he almost groaned in anticipation, but caught himself in time. Total silence only. He swallowed a whimper.
Silence.
His heartbeat.
Searing pain shot across the man’s ribs. Two hundred golden hairs wrapped around his side in a hot sting. His head jerked back; he inhaled sharply. Smiled slowly. Yes.
With his face to the wall, he pictured his Master behind him. The elf looked so good, bare-chested in his black leathers. He knew he wasn’t allowed to fantasize further, but he did. Tall and chiseled, haughty and solemn, his mane thick and golden down his back… The elven Master’s skill with the whip was infamous. His psychological tortures legendary. Well worth the price. He was a lucky man indeed.
The skin of his body was alive, every follicle stretching, reaching out to sense His every move.
Pacing, the man thought, like a lion at its prey.
Pacing.
Like a beast in a cage.
He swung the whip again.
NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]
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I am looking forward to reading more of this – I adore all of the undercurrents in their relationship.
— pinbot Wednesday 6 August 2008, 20:25 #