The Vessel

Chapter 13

Payback is hell….

A Vessel MisAdventure

Haldir awoke and stretched. The sun was up, very bright and the room was warm. He could hear “My Funny Valentine” playing softly in the background. And…

He became aware of the weight on his legs. His arms and legs were immobile. He eased one eye open.

There was Bronwyn
sitting on his thighs, her knees encasing his legs on the mattress. She was nude and she was reading.

Bronwyn knew he was awake; she sensed the change in his breathing a full minute before and she was happy he had not woken up while she was tying him up, spread eagle. She had straddled him at his thighs and was busy perusing from a stack of papers Rumil had loaned her for her reading pleasure. She had a paper in one hand and was stroking him with the other. In truth, his body had responded to her before he woke up and as a result, he was fully aroused, hard and throbbing.

“Good morning, my love.” Her voice was low and she barely glanced up from the sheet of paper. She continued to leisurely caress him, gently pulling the foreskin away from the head of his cock.

“Baraer.” His voice was slightly tight. As he had not called her by her name, she knew he was enjoying himself. “What are you doing?”

She smiled and laid down the sheet, reaching for another. “Reading.”

He nodded in mock agreement. “Besides that.” She read a paragraph or two or three before answering, never ceasing her movement.

“Remember that lovely evening at the abandoned farm house? When it rained? And you tied me up?”

He closed his eyes in bliss. “Remember it? It is perhaps one of the best memories of my life.” He smiled at the recollection. It had been their first night together and she had squirmed so much, he had been forced to tie her up in order to taste her. “You bounced like a fish out of water.”

She smiled in remembrance, also. “Do you remember what I told you after you had worn me down?”

Eyebrows went up. “You said you would get me back.”

She grinned even bigger. “It is payback time.” She laid the second sheet down and bent down, encasing him in her mouth. She suckled him, flicking her tongue over the eye of his being and nibbling on the ridge of his head. She quickly sat back up, but continued to stroke him. She picked up another sheet of paper. And read.

And stroked.

Her fingers were cool, gliding softly up and down his thick shaft. The pads of her fingers were calloused from years of violin, cello, guitar, and piano playing, making them ultra-sensitive. The small rough edges reeked havoc on Haldir’s senses and he strained against his constraints. Her index finger swirled around the velvet head, coating itself with clear sweetness. Through slitted eyes, he watched as she put the finger into her mouth, her eyes never leaving the missive she was reading. He could see her tongue whip around the tip of her finger and wished for its attentions on him.

“If you continue this, it will be my undoing.” His voice was gravelly, gruff even. Brown, fiery eyes looked up from the sheath of paper and took in the bound warrior.

Hers. Her bound warrior.

He was not the most romantic of souls. He did not constantly remind her of his love; she said it enough for both of them. He did not bring flowers, did not sing love songs, did not assault her ears with wussy, wimpy poetry. He said it in small ways; when he held her at night, when he dried her tears, eased her aches, when he secretly had her favorite perfume recreated and had quietly set the crystal vial on the table she kept her toiletries on.

She laid the sheet of paper down and resumed her stroking. Deep, murky blue met rich brown. She smiled slightly and reached for another sheet. She brought it up to examine it closely.

“Oh, how lovely.”

He heard it through a haze of sensual nerves, more in tuned to the waves of pleasure her hand was creating.

Wha-” She turned the sheet towards him. It was a sketch of Galadriel and Celeborn. He was standing above her, hand outstretched, helping her to rise. The look of love on her face was exquisitely detailed.


Her hand never ceased its slow ministrations. “Rumil did this?” Haldir nodded, still in a haze. “He is quite good.”

“Baraer,” His voice was becoming more strained, more forced, “do you not have anything better to do besides look at pictures?” He wanted her mouth back on him, or better yet, her wonderfully wet, hot sheath. Had his eyes been opened, he would have seen that wicked, wicked smile he loved and would not wish on any Orc.

“No. Net yet.” She did sense his discomfort and as she dropped the sketch, she leaned over and teased the tip of him with her tongue. She swirled around his head as if he was an ice cream cone, licking the sweetness of lubrication from its source, before gently grasping the ridge gently with her teeth and sucking. He arched to her as much as the restraints allowed him to and a sound resembling ‘ah’ escaped from his throat. She sat back up and reached for the next sheet.

“Oh. How…different.” She grasped him again, a little firmer, but still a desirable touch. The stroking resumed, slightly faster, her thumb working the vein underneath and the heart of the head. “Who is this?” She turned the drawing towards him.

The elleth had long dark hair and was exquisite. She reclined in the bathing pool, on a rock Bronwyn was familiar with. She was nude, beautiful long legs, small breasts upturned delightfully, nipples large.

“Arwen.” His voice was a whisper.

“Ah.” Bronwyn squirmed a little. The pose was sensuous. “Elrond’s daughter; Celeborn and Galadriel’s granddaughter?” It was more a statement than a question. “You…know her?”

Haldir was so consumed with lust, he did not realize he was treading on very thin ice. “We grew up together…she has been in love with Aragorn for years. If she chooses him over the Havens, it will break her father’s heart.”

“Ah.” Bronwyn continued to look at drawing after drawing. As she went through each one, they become more and more…explicit. Arwen had posed for several and then a new model appeared. Bronwyn looked closely.

“Liandrien?” She turned the page to him. Her hand was still stroking, varying the rhythm, so he could not get a toe-hold and come to fruition. He had broken out in a fine sheen and his breathing was heavy, erratic.

The elleth was bent over, hands on a bed, legs spread enticingly, everything visible. She looked over her shoulder, a rather naughty ‘Come hither’ expression on her face. Bronwyn could just imagine her swaying her pale backside at the artist. “What is this? An issue of ‘Play Elf’ or ‘Elf-house’?” she mused.

Haldir barely glanced at the drawing. ” Baraermin, you are very wet. I can feel…”

She laid it down gently and raised another. Liandrien again, only this time she had company. The Elf had entered from behind, his body only seen from the back, waist down. The look on Liandrien’s face was ecstatic, conquering.

She dropped the paper and bent over, inhaling him as deep as she could take him in her mouth. He felt the velvet confines of her throat and tongue and arched into her, gagging her. Her teeth dragged up his shaft and she kissed the tip of his member. She sucked down the backside, following that which made him hard, he could feel her breasts tickling his thighs and all reasonable thought stopped when her tongue whipped around each sac and she slowly, gently drew them into her mouth.

The music had changed. Jaden Maiden?

“The moon spreads her veils on the sand.
Two shadows are caught in a dance…”

It did not matter that he expected it when he felt her licking there. He damn near lost consciousness when she did every time and she knew it. Her right hand continued to stroke him, slowly, exhaustively. The index finger from her left hand made its way to his opening, playing around the edges and he was vaguely aware it was wet. She had been fingering herself. He growled, the rumble coming from his chest. She KNEW he loved to watch her pleasure herself. And that she had tied him so he could not…well, he would not stayed tied forever and deep in the recesses of his mind, he considered ways to pay her back for this inconvenient rapture. Her tongue snaked around the underside, where he joined to his perineum.

“Baraer…please…I cannot…” Unlike him, she could not bear pleading. She rose up, climbing up his body and impaled herself, knees alongside his hips and set for them a rhythm that was forceful, yet slow. Her tongue found his nipples and she nipped playfully. His head was thrown back, hair spread across in the pillow in almost a feminine disarray, but there was nothing soft or remotely feminine about him. The music grew, flowed.

“…Tangled in the web of your hair
Tracing the trail of your breathing…”

He held off, as long as possible, waiting for her. When he felt her convulse and arch, he exploded, reaching for her.

She lingered, impaled, knowing if she moved, he would slide from her body. She waited for breathing to resume to normal. She brushed the hair from her face and picked up another sheet.

“…Our shadows vanish as the flame takes the skies
The hour of Fire and Ice…”

“Oh my! This is….Haldir…this is perverted!” Liandrien was with three Elves. Only her face was visible and it was contorted, whether in pleasure or pain, Bronwyn could not tell. She quickly laid it down and reached for another.

She was still wet and he was getting hard again. He smiled wickedly and purred in a way only he could. “But you love it. It is perverted and you love it. Which makes you a perverted Elf Lov….”

“EEEEEEP!!!!!” She had another sheet up and her eyes were wide as saucers. Her jaw had dropped and she was turning the page in circles. She did not seem to realize he was moving within her, slowly. “Haldir! This position, this coupling is simply not possible!” She showed him the drawing.

He looked closely. “Oh, yes it is. It took us a while…” his voice trailed off, realizing too late what had just slipped out of his mouth. He raised his eyes to Bronwyn, her eyes narrowed in angry slits. “Baraermin, these were done seven or eight hundred years ago. Maybe nine hundred. I am sorry.” She flung herself from his body, grabbing her jeans.


“Hush! Just be quiet!”. She laced up, grabbed a bra and one of his tunics…a good sign, he sighed to himself…and threw it on. “I realize you were no blushing virgin when we met, but considering everything, the very last thing I need to is to have it thrown in my face. Fact is, I am as angry, if not more so at Rumil, than at you at this time! And I intend on giving him a piece of my mind, right now!” She grabbed the stacks of paper and stormed from the talan.

Leaving him tied up.

He took a deep breath and set to work on the rope.

“I think I’m right.
I think you’re wrong!
I’ll probably give in before long
Please don’t make me smile
I just wanna be mad for a while!”

She stormed down the spiral stairwell, fury mounting. She reached the clearing to see Rumil, Orophin, Heridil, Celeborn and several others discussing…whatever it was that Elves stand around and talk about. She marched up to Rumil and shoved the stack in his hands.

“You should be more careful of what you hand out for reading material!” He looked down and saw the offensive drawing laying on top. Everyone saw. Heridil began to snicker and Celeborn had a difficult time keeping a straight face, turning the most glorious shade of green..


“Do not explain!” She turned furious eyes on Celeborn and took a deep calculated breath. He felt his chest contract in fear. Her voice belied her emotional state. “Lord Celeborn. I remember once a long time ago, you offered me a tour of the forest…on horseback. Now would be nice!” It was not a request. She tucked an arm in his before turning back to Haldir’s brothers and her ‘aide-de-camp’. “Oh, by the way. Give him about fifteen minutes and then please, untie him.” She looked at Celeborn expectantly. “Maybe thirty minutes! Well?”

The sound of smashing crockery came from the tree where their talan rose and colorful curses, mostly learned from her, rained down from above. Heridil quickly found somewhere else to go. Celeborn looked at Haldir’s brothers. “You will occupy him, correct? She needs…” he gazed down into flames, “…time. My dear, do you ride bareback? Haldir can get out of any knot and I fear there may not be time to saddle the horses.” More bellows and shattering sounds came from the talan, as the two ran from the field towards the stables.

Rumil looked at his brother. “I could use your help. Please.”

Orophin laughed at his brother’s distress. “Not on your life!” and he followed Heridil, leaving Rumil holding the evidence.

Originally posted 07/2003

Jaden Maiden lyrics by Andreas Vollenweider and Eliza Gilkyson. From the album “Eolian Minstrel.”

Lirimear: Lovely one
Baraer: Fiery One
Baraermin: My Fiery One