In the Darkness Bind Them

by Henrika

Rating: NC-17

Pairing:Gandalf/Sauron, Gandalf/various uruk-hai (for now).

Summary: AU; Sauron has regained the One Ring and won the war. Gandalf is trapped. Will the Istar be able to resist the Dark Lord's attempts to break him?

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. I make no money of this.

A/N and warnings: This story is very dark and deals with disturbing matters like graphic violence, graphic rape, torture, humiliation and much more. If this is not your cup of tea, now is probably the time to turn back. You have been warned!

Dedicated to: Nefertiti, for so kindly helping me with beta and suggestions. Without you this story would probably still be in a file somewhere in my PC. Many hugs to you, my dear!

Website: Lord of the Rings - my Gandalf slash fiction and art


Chapter Four

Gandalf's eyes snapped open when he heard the unmistakable sound of his cell door opening, and before he had even realized what was going on, his body began to tremble.

This time Sauron had come all alone. No Ringwraiths or uruks accompanied him. The Dark Lord stopped a few feet away, just to regard the Istar's huddled, naked shape for a moment.

"My, my..." he then said. "You certainly are one filthy creature, Olórin. Soiled yourself like some animal. Even I hadn't expected that."

Gandalf then realized that he had lost control of his bladder sometime during the night, and found most of his lower body covered in urine. When Sauron started advancing toward him, his tremors increased, and he began to weep silently, wetting the cold stone floor with his tears.

"Don't let them take me again..." he sobbed desperately, knowing he simply couldn't endure another day with the uruks. "Please... I beg you... Don't give me to them again, Sauron..." His voice was but a hoarse whisper. His throat was still sore from the assaults yesterday, and pronouncing every word was a strain.

Sauron cocked his head and slowly crouched beside Gandalf's abused body. The white wizard was really a mess, and he began to wish he'd had a mirror to show Gandalf what a miserable condition he was in.

"Are you pleading for your life, Mithrandir?" he asked amused.

Gandalf's sobs turned to hiccups. "Just don't...make them do it again... Kill me if you must, but not...that."

"No," Sauron finally said. "I will not give you to them again, Olórin. This time I will have you myself."

Gandalf could feel his stomach clenching in fear and dismay, and yet he preferred Sauron himself to the brutish pack of uruk-hai. Realizing that pleading Sauron not to do it would get him nowhere, he said nothing more but simply waited for the assault to begin. He noticed he had been holding his breath when Sauron spoke again.

"I will not take you in this filthy cell. You're going with me to my quarters. Can you walk, Gandalf? No? I thought not."

Not gently, but not exactly brutally either, Sauron tucked his arms under Gandalf's body and picked him up from the floor. The wizard's head lolled from one side to the other over Sauron's arm when he was lifted, and the sharp metal in the Dark Lord's armour stung his bruised flesh painfully.

He didn't even try to struggle. Sauron's hold on him was relentless, and he was currently too weak to even stand upright. He was weak from hunger and thirst, but despite this he had refused to eat the maggoty bread he was given once a day. Well, he'd been forced to swallow a huge amount of uruk seed yesterday, though he doubted it was healthy.

Gandalf came to think that he should at least try to memorize the places he saw now, in case he was ever given a chance to escape, but right now it didn't seem so relevant. All he hoped was that Sauron would not give him to the uruks again.

Sauron finally took him to a dark and gloomy yet tidy room which he assumed was the Dark Lord's bedchamber. At least the room had a window. Gandalf had not been given an opportunity to see the sky once during his time in the dungeons, so even the little he managed to glimpse was welcome.

There was a large bed in the middle of the room, which looked kind of forbidding, yet Gandalf hoped Sauron would consummate the assault there and not rape him on the cold floor.

Soon it came out Sauron was going to do neither. He brought Gandalf to an adjacent chamber, and unkindly dropped him into a large bathtub.

"I could have my servants wash you, but I presume you have had enough of foreign hands on your body?" Sauron smiled, and even though Gandalf couldn't see it through the mask, the red flash that flickered behind the orbits revealed it.

"I will do it myself, so you had better get used to my touch, Olórin. Besides, you smell."

Sauron was right, of course. Gandalf was almost completely covered in come, urine and blood, plus the dirt that had stuck to him from his time on the floor, and he neither looked nor smelled pleasant. A nice, hot bath would have been wonderful, but he knew the bath Sauron was going to give him would be neither nice nor hot.

The Dark Lord would wash him to make their contact more pleasant for himself, not because he cared for Gandalf. Still, Gandalf was looking forward to having the mess removed from his body. As it was now he could barely inhale his own scent without becoming nauseated.

He shrieked when Sauron threw a bucket of cold - almost freezing - water over him and then another one, until every inch of his skin was soaking wet. Sauron then wiped him clean with a piece of white cloth, taking no heed to the scrapes and bruises that covered him.

When the Dark Lord thought he was clean enough, he roughly dragged Gandalf to his feet, forcing him to walk this time, and led him back to the main chamber. Gandalf dropped to his knees when Sauron released him, still shivering from the cold. This place was not warm enough for naked skin, and he wished he had something to wrap around himself.

"Lie down on the bed," Sauron ordered him.

When he didn't obey fast enough, a hard boot hit his side to speed him up. Still shaking, Gandalf managed to wobble to the big bed and crawl up on top of it.

"Just get it over with, Sauron," he said wearily. "I won't fight you."

"Easy, Mithrandir," came the answer. "There is plenty of time. First, I will do something for you."

"What?"

"I will show you my face," Sauron said.

The Dark Lord slowly started to disrobe, removing one piece of armour at the time. Gandalf knew it would have been easier for him if he couldn't see the face of his violator, but he realized he would not get away that easily. Although he didn't want to look, he raised his eyes, and watched Sauron remove the mask that had been concealing his face every time he'd visited Gandalf.

Gandalf didn't know what to expect. He assumed Sauron had the power to choose for himself what kind of body he wanted. His stature and carriage already made him seem imposing and menacing, but what about his face?

Sauron's hair cascaded over his wide shoulders in glossy dark waves. His skin was flawless and so pale that it was almost unnatural. He was handsome, though not effeminately beautiful like many elves. His countenance could best be described as a perfect mixture of human and elven features. His nose was long and sharp, his jaw strong, cheekbones high, and eyes piercingly blue. Not the flaming fiery hollows that Gandalf had expected, but crystalline blue, like the water on a beautiful summer day. To Gandalf's dismay, Sauron actually reminded him a lot of Lord Elrond.

The Dark Lord removed his last piece of clothing and stood now naked before Gandalf, leaving only the Ring on his hand. He noticed the wizard's staring eyes, and smiled.

"Do you like the way I look, Olórin?" he asked. "Of course I could have chosen whatever form I liked, but for some reason this seemed most... suitable. Do you like it?"

Gandalf turned his head away. "No," he whispered.

"A pity, because this is what you will get in any case."

Sauron began to stroke his member to hardness, watching Gandalf's frightened and hesitant reaction as he did it. The wizard looked as if he wanted to leap off the bed and make a mad dash for the door. Sauron's lips curled into a fiendish smile, which, to Gandalf's relief, made him look less like Lord Elrond.

"I believe I am ready now, Mithrandir," he said and started to approach the bed, still holding his cock, quickly pulsating to a full erection.

Although his instincts told him to flee, Gandalf stayed on the bed, eyes firmly locked on the Dark Lord. I will not give him the satisfaction! he thought.

When he was standing by the bed, close enough to reach Gandalf with his arms, Sauron pulled Gandalf's shaved head to his groin, urging him to open his mouth by literally poking him in the face with his hard cock.

"Open up, little wizard," he said scornfully. "I require your services!"

But Gandalf adamantly refused. He could do nothing if Sauron pressed him into the bed and raped him, but to service him willingly like some two-bit trollop - never!

"I will not!" he hissed with sudden fervour. "Rape me if you wish; I can't stop you, but I will not cooperate!"

With an angry snarl Sauron seized him by the throat and pressed him down into the mattress. Gandalf almost hoped the Dark Lord would lose control of himself and kill him right there on the spot. He didn't. The grip was only hard enough to stun Gandalf, not to kill him.

"You fool!" he snarled. "Do you still think you can deny me anything while in such a situation? I am your Lord, and you will treat me as such!"

Sauron's hand was hard as stone, and the pressure from it was squeezing Gandalf's airways shut. He could feel the cold metal of the Ring against his throat and figured it was the source of his captor's strength, physical as well as mental.

With a contemptuous gesture Sauron released Gandalf, and the wizard began to cough spasmodically, sucking much needed air into his aching lungs.

"You will soon suck on other things than the air you breathe," he said. "If this hasn't taught you a lesson, maybe I should send you down to my uruk captains and leave the task to them? Would you rather have it that way, Gandalf?"

"No!" Gandalf shrieked, instantly feeling strong terror. He couldn't let Sauron give him to them again. He couldn't take it. He would rather kill himself outright.

"No?" Sauron grinned maliciously. "Then service me properly, and I won't. The choice is yours."

"Alright..." Gandalf gave in. "Not the Uruk-hai... I will...service you..."

"My Lord."

"M-my... Lord."

"Now I want you to suck me," Sauron ordered. "Do a good job, and I will keep you; do it poorly, and I'll give you to them anyway."

Trembling, with sobs of desperation gurgling from his throat, Gandalf closed his lips around the head of Sauron's member. It certainly wasn't the first time he pleasured a man this way, but it had been a long time, and his dry mouth and sore throat made it extra difficult. He managed to draw an appreciative groan from Sauron, who quickly wrapped his hand around the back of his head and started thrusting into his mouth.

The member was so large that it was impossible for him to take it all, so he used his hands to work on the part he had to leave out. Sauron took no heed to his limitations and fiercely thrust as far as he could get to enhance the experience. Gandalf fought hard to suppress the gag-reflex that threatened to make him vomit over Sauron's cock. If that happened, he was probably doomed.

The act went on for about a quarter of an hour. Gandalf's skills and the desperate urge to prove himself good enough seemed to be sufficient. With a stifled groan Sauron came, shooting his seed deep into Gandalf's throat as he slammed his groin against the wizard's face and nearly choked him in the process.

Gandalf swallowed convulsively and tried not to choke on the bitter fluid. It didn't taste as hideous as the uruks' come, but the circumstances were hardly better. All he could do was hope Sauron was pleased with his ministrations.

The Dark Lord laughed when he pulled his softening cock out of the wizard's mouth.

"Being embodied does have its benefits, don't you agree, Mithrandir? My hunger for carnal pleasure has become huge. Well, well. You did well this time, little wizard," he continued and stroked Gandalf's cheek as if he was patting an obedient dog. The Dark Lord's fingernails were much longer and sharper than a normal man's, and his touch, although gentle, sent shivers down Gandalf's spine.

Gandalf breathed out in relief. Presumably he would not be sent to the uruks. That alone was a thought of comfort in this moment.

"You have earned yourself a reprieve, Olórin," Sauron said. "No uruks will have you tonight. Now lie down on your belly."

Much to his shock Gandalf could see that Sauron was hard once again. He knew what was probably coming now. Fellatio wasn't enough. Sauron wanted to fuck him as well.

Gandalf was still hurting very much, and dreaded the coming experience, but his fear of upsetting Sauron was so great he obeyed without questioning. The Dark Lord climbed onto the bed and settled on top of Gandalf. His body was large enough to completely envelop the wizard's much smaller frame. Gandalf lay still and tried not to think of the risk that Sauron might suffocate him.

Sauron's clawed fingers moved along his spine, until they finally reached the cleft between his buttocks. One finger slid in deeper, brushing his sore, swollen opening, and Gandalf couldn't help flinching.

"No, please..." he whimpered and would have tried to squirm away if not Sauron's weight had been pinning him to the bed.

"Please what?" Sauron snapped. "You want it without preparation? Fine with me. You will have it!"

He roughly shoved Gandalf's legs apart with his own knees, and put the head of his erect cock against his torn hole, ready to push inside him.

"Please, use oil..." Gandalf began.

"No," Sauron said sternly. "Lie still, and it will hurt less."

With that he pushed past the ring of muscle guarding the wizard's back channel, coldly ignoring the searing cry of pain that Gandalf emitted. He started moving quickly and mercilessly, thrusting into the very depths of the Istar, though he was careful not to put too much weight on him. He wanted Gandalf to still be alive when he finished.

Gandalf buried his fingertips in the bedspread and clenched his teeth to endure the pain. He knew screaming would only annoy Sauron, so he tried to avoid it, but he was unable to hold back tears of pain and humiliation.

After a while Sauron grew tired of the troublesome position and dragged Gandalf up to his knees, so that he could get more depth into his thrusts. Hard fingers, sure to leave bruises, gripped his hips, and the Dark Lord's long, sharp nails dug into his flesh.

He cried out when one of Sauron's thrusts accidentally hit his prostate gland and a bit of pleasure was mingled with the searing pain. Sauron's response was harsh.

"Stop your howling, fool!" he hissed, intentionally tightening his hold of Gandalf's hips. Those areas were already bruised from the brutal violations yesterday, and Gandalf couldn't decide which pain was worse, the one caused by Sauron's hands or his member.

The faint pleasure only seemed to enhance the terrible pain, and Gandalf wasn't sure he'd be able to cope with it much longer. Biting his bottom lip to choke the screams, he tried to endure it without fainting or going mad.

Sauron's thrusts became more and more violent the closer he got to his release. Gandalf was pushed forward every time Sauron slammed his hips against him and had to fight to stay on his knees. After what seemed like forever, the Dark Lord finally came and shot his seed deep into Gandalf's bowels. When he climaxed, his hold on Gandalf's hips tightened further and his nails finally pierced the wizard's skin. Gandalf screamed, but Sauron was too exalted to even notice it.

He pulled out of the Istar and looked down at Gandalf's stretched, swollen anus. Blood was trickling down his slim, pale thighs, and Sauron could hear him whimpering softly. He'd hurt the wizard, but there was no risk he'd bleed to death.

When Sauron was no longer in him, Gandalf crawled away from him, curling against the bed's headboard. He didn't know what was going to happen to him now, but he hoped Sauron would keep his word and not let the uruks have him.

"Going somewhere, wizard?" Sauron's voice sounded like a whiplash. "You are not done yet. Lick me clean," he said, nodding at his limp cock.

Gandalf opened his mouth to object but quickly closed it again. Sauron would not accept a "no" from him, but the thought of licking his cock, now smeared in blood and come, was utterly repulsing.

"Either you do this, or I will give you to the uruks. Which is it?"

Gandalf swallowed in disgust but started to crawl back to Sauron, closing his lips around the sticky organ. The taste almost made him throw up, but he somehow managed to fight it down, trying to use his tongue in the least arousing way, terrified of getting Sauron hard again. He carefully licked the sticky layer of various bodily fluids from the Dark Lord's member. It did not harden again, and for that he was grateful.

"I think that is enough, Mithrandir," Sauron said after a while. "You are good at this. You certainly deserve a reprieve."

Gandalf, still on all fours before Sauron, tilted his head up to look at his tormentor. "And what now? May I go back to my cell?"

Sauron smiled, and that alone told Gandalf that this was not over yet.

"No, my dear Olórin," he replied. "I am so pleased with your services that I think you deserve something back. Lie down on your back, and spread your legs."

"What for?" Gandalf asked suspiciously. "I don't..."

"Now do as I say," Sauron ordered in a somewhat harsher tone. "It won't hurt. You have my word."

Gandalf hesitantly obeyed, having a bad feeling about this. He certainly did not want anything back from Sauron, and despite the Dark Lord's promise, he strongly suspected it would cause him more pain than pleasure.

Sauron regarded him speculatively. Gandalf knew that his body had never been considered very attractive, especially not in a condition like this, but he could see that Sauron was looking at him rather appraisingly. The Dark Lord then reached his hand down and cupped the wizard's balls and flaccid member in his large hand.

"You are quite well endowed, Gandalf," he said. "I have begun to wonder what this might look like engorged." He weighed Gandalf's balls in his hand, poking at his cock with a clawed index finger. The Istar flinched.

"No, little wizard, I will not geld you," he said grinning. "I think I might even return the favour you did for me a short while ago!"

He then bent down and started to lower his head toward Gandalf's crotch.

"No, please, don't..." the wizard begged, trying to pull away, but Sauron's firm hands held him still.

"You have nothing to say in this, Mithrandir. Lie still and try to enjoy - I will."

Sauron urged Gandalf's thighs further apart, licking past his balls to finally reach his aching and bleeding little hole. The Dark Lord brushed his tongue over it, causing Gandalf to flinch from pain and surprise. Sauron just grinned.

"I believe I can make you like this," he said. "You should thank me."

He started to lick the swollen opening again, lapping gently at the torn flesh, before slowly slipping his tongue inside. Gandalf groaned at the unwelcome invasion, but it wasn't only a groan from pain. Sauron's warm, slippery tongue actually soothed the burning ache down there, and after a while it felt really pleasurable.

Gandalf wanted nothing more than to squirm away. He hated the feeling he was experiencing. Forced pleasure was at least as bad as forced pain, if not worse. He could barely stand the humiliation when his body betrayed him, and he could feel his cock slowly pulsating into an erection.

Sauron curled his lips in a malicious smile. He moved to lick the loose skin of Gandalf's scrotum instead, sucking one small testicle into his mouth. Gandalf's body was tense, and he wasn't sure which emotion was stronger; the fear or the shame. His balls actually liked the treatment and his cock responded with twitchy movements.

Gandalf gasped sharply. Sauron was passing his tongue along his shaft now, and Gandalf dreaded the moment when he'd take it in his mouth. He knew that an attempt to stop Sauron would only earn him a night with the uruks, and he supposed that the humiliation was a small price to pay compared to that.

But Sauron surprised him by suddenly pulling his face away, leaving the wizard with a throbbing, hot erection. The Dark Lord leered at his work, telling Gandalf, "No, I will not let you come. You haven't deserved that - yet. But certainly, if you'd like to stroke yourself to release, you are free to do it."

Gandalf shook his head. "You rape me, and then you expect me to feel desire? No, Sauron. I don't behave that way. If you believed so, you misjudged me."

Sauron shrugged. "Really, Olórin, I only wanted to see that luscious cock of yours hard. The rest does not matter."

Gandalf's erection flagged quickly when it was no longer stimulated, and for that he was grateful. He closed his legs and pulled himself up in a sitting position.

"Sauron, can I ask you something?" he asked, fearing the answer he might get. It didn't matter. He had to know.

"Yes, Mithrandir, ask me."

"Did you rape Frodo before you..."

Sauron's reply was a contemptuous snort. "Your precious little Halfling? No, I did not rape him. I can promise you that his death was clean and simple."

Clean and simple? Gandalf clearly remembered Frodo's distorted face, the look that told him about the hobbit's last moments of life. It had not looked "clean and simple", but he assumed that Sauron had no reason to lie to him. Sauron's sadistic nature would have enjoyed the pain it would cause Gandalf to know.

"What about Sam?" he asked. "Is he..."

"The Ringbearer's companion? The fat one?" Sauron laughed as if Gandalf had said something very amusing. "I fed my orcs with that one! They wanted fresh meat, and I could think of no other use for him. Don't despair, dear wizard. He couldn't have suffered much."

Gandalf began to cry. He buried his face in his hands and made no attempt to choke the sobs this time. It was no use. Sauron would probably feed on his pain, but there was no way he could stop it.

The Dark Lord reached out his hands and cupped them around Gandalf's head, using his thumbs to wipe the wizard's tears away.

"Aww, don't cry, little wizard," he cooed. "Such strong emotions for something so small. I told you he didn't suffer...probably. The orcs were starving for meat, so they must have finished him quickly."

"I hate you..." Gandalf sobbed, and shoved Sauron's hands away.

"I know you do, Olórin," the Dark Lord replied. "Unfortunately, there is not much you can do about it."

"Can't you just kill me along with everyone else? Why must I live?"

"Because that is my decision," Sauron said. "I have the power now, Olórin. The power to give life, and the power to end it. For now, I want you to live."

"Can I please go back to my cell now?" Gandalf asked quietly. "For you are done with me for tonight, are you not?"

"No, wizard, you are staying here in this room. You will sleep by my feet like the dog you are."

Sauron got out of bed and seized Gandalf's arm in a harsh grip, pulling him down with him. He then attached a steel collar, connected to a six-foot chain around the wizard's throat. Gandalf struggled, but he stood no chance against the superior strength of Sauron. Dragging him like an unwilling dog on a leash, the Dark Lord attached the other end of the chain to a metal loop in one of the corners.

"Did you think I would have you in my bed?" Sauron said coldly, staring at Gandalf, who lay flat on the floor, secured and unable to escape. "No, Olórin, even in Mordor we do not keep dogs in our beds. This is your place, and the sooner you learn it the better. Have you understood?"

When Gandalf didn't answer, Sauron poked his sensitive genitals with his toes, drawing a pained moan from the wizard.

"Have you understood?"

"Yes..." Gandalf groaned.

"Yes, my Lord Sauron!"

"Yes...my Lord Sauron..."

"Good. Kiss my Ring."

Sauron held out his right hand with the One Ring inches from the wizard's face. Gandalf kissed it, brushing the cold metal with his lips. When that was done, Sauron seemed pleased.

"Sleep well, wizard. I hope you know your place now."

He draped a blanket made of flimsy fabric over Gandalf's form before he went back to his own bed and crawled down under the sheets. Gandalf did not lift his head to look at him.