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May. 19th, 2003 11:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603Now for the moment some of you have been waiting for... :-D Oh, this one is dedicated to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lilybaggins -- and she knows why...
Title: Bree Games 13/?
Author: Claudia
Pairing: F/A, F/Vik, F/everyone else
Rating: NC17
Summary: Frodo goes to Bree to look for Bilbo after he leaves. There are some roads Frodo should never have taken…
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
Story notes: More fluff… This is probably my ultimate in Frodo filth. Prostitution, graphic sex, other crimes to Tolkien, mpreg? Heh. Not yet, but I’m open to it. I mean, I’m RILLY going to Tolkien Hell for this one.
Bree Games 13
The door to the room was flung open and a heavy knee crashed to the wood floor in front of Frodo’s face. Frodo managed to crack his eyes open long enough to see Butterbur peering down at him.
“He got you really good this time.” Butterbur said, cupping Frodo’s chin in his meaty hand and examining the welts and bruises. “Let’s come on down to the room and I’ll fix you up. You gotta believe me that I didn’t want you this banged up. Not good for my business either. You’ll probably not be able to work for a week or so.”
“Leave me alone,” Frodo said, and his voice sounded nasal. He wondered if his nose was broken. It hurt badly enough.
Butterbur pulled Frodo’s breeches back up. “Come now,” he said, helping Frodo to a sitting position. Frodo gasped. His ribs hurt horribly. “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” Butterbur continued. “…Sent you with that horrid man, but you got me right upset trying to get that Vik to buy you right in front of the lawmen and all. Come now, Frodo. I’ll fix you up. You’ll be as good as new in a few days.”
“You’re likely to get me killed and then you’ll get no money out of me,” Frodo said, clutching his stomach and wheezing.
“Watch your mouth,” Butterbur said, flashing him a warning glance.
***
Frodo sat alone at a table in the Common Room. Though Butterbur had cleaned him off and helped rinse the blood from his silk shirt, Frodo did not want to lie down in his room because it smelled bad. He didn’t want Butterbur fussing over him. He shuddered at the innkeeper’s touch and thought it was probably only a matter of time before he wanted to find out for himself why Frodo was so popular.
Frodo was horribly sore. His face throbbed and he could barely move without his ribs protesting. He didn’t think they were broken, but they were certainly cracked. When he had coughed in the other room, a few droplets of blood had sprayed onto his hands.
Now that he was sitting alone, free with his thoughts, he could muse over Vik’s unfair treatment. It didn’t make sense. While they had lain together in the room, Vik had made it clear how strong his feelings were for him, that he was willing to do nearly anything to get him out of this situation. He knew Butterbur was not trustworthy, so why had he suddenly turned on Frodo? Frodo felt a bit of hope at the idea that maybe Vik had seen the lawmen, too, and had not wanted to get Frodo arrested. But he had still left Frodo to be beaten by that horrid man. He could have just taken Frodo out of there, never mind the consequences. Vik looked strong enough to be able to fight several men at once.
Frodo startled as he suddenly was aware that the hooded gray-eyed ranger was sitting just at the next table, sipping an ale and watching the hobbit carefully. Frodo’s heart leaped and his cheeks warmed, remembering how he had imagined the Man’s rough yet gentle touch on him earlier. Frodo managed a tentative smile at him, causing his cheek to throb, but Strider did not respond. Frodo’s cheeks heated again, this time in embarrassment.
Why was Strider so unaffected by him? He could make Frodo forget his misery for awhile. Why were the appealing men turning against him, leaving him vulnerable to repulsive, violent men like Will?
This was going to end now.
Unbuttoning his shirt so that one nipple was daringly visible, Frodo slid out of his seat and stood in front of the ranger.
“Why do you stare at me?”
There was a long, awkward silence, in which Frodo nearly regretted approaching the ranger. Butterbur had warned him against it, said the rangers were dangerous.
Finally, Strider spoke in a low voice. “You are mistaken, halfling. I am not staring at you, much as you may have become accustomed to that.”
Frodo gave him the most charming smile he could. “Would you like to find out why men stare at me?” Frodo asked.
The ranger watched him, apparently unmoved for several more moments, until his lip finally curled up just slightly. “You would lie with me?”
“Yes,” Frodo said in relief that Strider had finally responded. “Though I am rather sore right now.”
“What do you charge?”
“It depends on what we do,” Frodo said. “If we do the full act, I must charge you three coins. If not, it will be two.”
“You are very expensive,” Strider said, and his hand brushed over Frodo’s face. Frodo could not help but lean into the touch, closing his eyes. “And perhaps normally, justifiably so. But I am certain your face was much fairer without the swelling and bruising. You should have a care who you choose to service, for now I would only pay you two coins for the full act.”
“All right, that will do then,” Frodo closed his eyes in contentment, imagining the ranger’s hands on him, making his body sing loud enough to forget the bruising.
“Let me make certain I understand,” Strider said. “I will give you two coins and you would be willing to allow me to have my way with you. Is that it?”
“Yes, that is the way it works,” Frodo said. “Now come, I know of a good room.”
“Not so fast, halfling.” Strider’s voice changed, became hard and chilling, as he stood to his full height. “You are under arrest.” Before Frodo could struggle or realize what was happening to him, Strider had pulled out a length of rope and was tying Frodo’s wrists behind him. Frodo squirmed around to see his face, gasping in horror, tears of rage springing to his eyes.
“You’re a lawman?” he gasped, squirming from side to side. “How can that be?”
“Not your concern.” Strider pulled Frodo’s wrists up just slightly to stop the hobbit’s struggling, but Frodo whimpered as his ribs throbbed yet again. “Stop your struggling or this is going to be unpleasant.”
“Where are you taking me?” Frodo gasped. He pictured a dank jail full of leering Men like Harry and Will. Or the guards that Butterbur had threatened him with, those that liked to have fun with hobbit prisoners.
Many in the inn had grown quiet as Frodo was tied up, his nipple still tantalizingly visible, and they watched with seedy interest, and definitely some regret, as Frodo was led through the inn.
Butterbur ran from behind the bar.
“What is the meaning of this?” he called out, wiping his hands on his apron.
“I’m afraid your little gold mine is finished in Bree,” Strider said, pushing Frodo roughly in front of him.
“Gold mine?” Butterbur muttered innocently. “For what I pay him, it’s more the other way around, I—“
“Save it,” Strider said with a piercing glare. “You are fortunate that you are such good friends with so many of the lawmen or you would be coming with me right now, too.”
Strider pushed open the door to the outside, and his fingers dug into Frodo’s shoulders.
lilybaggins -- and she knows why...Title: Bree Games 13/?
Author: Claudia
Pairing: F/A, F/Vik, F/everyone else
Rating: NC17
Summary: Frodo goes to Bree to look for Bilbo after he leaves. There are some roads Frodo should never have taken…
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
Story notes: More fluff… This is probably my ultimate in Frodo filth. Prostitution, graphic sex, other crimes to Tolkien, mpreg? Heh. Not yet, but I’m open to it. I mean, I’m RILLY going to Tolkien Hell for this one.
Bree Games 13
The door to the room was flung open and a heavy knee crashed to the wood floor in front of Frodo’s face. Frodo managed to crack his eyes open long enough to see Butterbur peering down at him.
“He got you really good this time.” Butterbur said, cupping Frodo’s chin in his meaty hand and examining the welts and bruises. “Let’s come on down to the room and I’ll fix you up. You gotta believe me that I didn’t want you this banged up. Not good for my business either. You’ll probably not be able to work for a week or so.”
“Leave me alone,” Frodo said, and his voice sounded nasal. He wondered if his nose was broken. It hurt badly enough.
Butterbur pulled Frodo’s breeches back up. “Come now,” he said, helping Frodo to a sitting position. Frodo gasped. His ribs hurt horribly. “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” Butterbur continued. “…Sent you with that horrid man, but you got me right upset trying to get that Vik to buy you right in front of the lawmen and all. Come now, Frodo. I’ll fix you up. You’ll be as good as new in a few days.”
“You’re likely to get me killed and then you’ll get no money out of me,” Frodo said, clutching his stomach and wheezing.
“Watch your mouth,” Butterbur said, flashing him a warning glance.
***
Frodo sat alone at a table in the Common Room. Though Butterbur had cleaned him off and helped rinse the blood from his silk shirt, Frodo did not want to lie down in his room because it smelled bad. He didn’t want Butterbur fussing over him. He shuddered at the innkeeper’s touch and thought it was probably only a matter of time before he wanted to find out for himself why Frodo was so popular.
Frodo was horribly sore. His face throbbed and he could barely move without his ribs protesting. He didn’t think they were broken, but they were certainly cracked. When he had coughed in the other room, a few droplets of blood had sprayed onto his hands.
Now that he was sitting alone, free with his thoughts, he could muse over Vik’s unfair treatment. It didn’t make sense. While they had lain together in the room, Vik had made it clear how strong his feelings were for him, that he was willing to do nearly anything to get him out of this situation. He knew Butterbur was not trustworthy, so why had he suddenly turned on Frodo? Frodo felt a bit of hope at the idea that maybe Vik had seen the lawmen, too, and had not wanted to get Frodo arrested. But he had still left Frodo to be beaten by that horrid man. He could have just taken Frodo out of there, never mind the consequences. Vik looked strong enough to be able to fight several men at once.
Frodo startled as he suddenly was aware that the hooded gray-eyed ranger was sitting just at the next table, sipping an ale and watching the hobbit carefully. Frodo’s heart leaped and his cheeks warmed, remembering how he had imagined the Man’s rough yet gentle touch on him earlier. Frodo managed a tentative smile at him, causing his cheek to throb, but Strider did not respond. Frodo’s cheeks heated again, this time in embarrassment.
Why was Strider so unaffected by him? He could make Frodo forget his misery for awhile. Why were the appealing men turning against him, leaving him vulnerable to repulsive, violent men like Will?
This was going to end now.
Unbuttoning his shirt so that one nipple was daringly visible, Frodo slid out of his seat and stood in front of the ranger.
“Why do you stare at me?”
There was a long, awkward silence, in which Frodo nearly regretted approaching the ranger. Butterbur had warned him against it, said the rangers were dangerous.
Finally, Strider spoke in a low voice. “You are mistaken, halfling. I am not staring at you, much as you may have become accustomed to that.”
Frodo gave him the most charming smile he could. “Would you like to find out why men stare at me?” Frodo asked.
The ranger watched him, apparently unmoved for several more moments, until his lip finally curled up just slightly. “You would lie with me?”
“Yes,” Frodo said in relief that Strider had finally responded. “Though I am rather sore right now.”
“What do you charge?”
“It depends on what we do,” Frodo said. “If we do the full act, I must charge you three coins. If not, it will be two.”
“You are very expensive,” Strider said, and his hand brushed over Frodo’s face. Frodo could not help but lean into the touch, closing his eyes. “And perhaps normally, justifiably so. But I am certain your face was much fairer without the swelling and bruising. You should have a care who you choose to service, for now I would only pay you two coins for the full act.”
“All right, that will do then,” Frodo closed his eyes in contentment, imagining the ranger’s hands on him, making his body sing loud enough to forget the bruising.
“Let me make certain I understand,” Strider said. “I will give you two coins and you would be willing to allow me to have my way with you. Is that it?”
“Yes, that is the way it works,” Frodo said. “Now come, I know of a good room.”
“Not so fast, halfling.” Strider’s voice changed, became hard and chilling, as he stood to his full height. “You are under arrest.” Before Frodo could struggle or realize what was happening to him, Strider had pulled out a length of rope and was tying Frodo’s wrists behind him. Frodo squirmed around to see his face, gasping in horror, tears of rage springing to his eyes.
“You’re a lawman?” he gasped, squirming from side to side. “How can that be?”
“Not your concern.” Strider pulled Frodo’s wrists up just slightly to stop the hobbit’s struggling, but Frodo whimpered as his ribs throbbed yet again. “Stop your struggling or this is going to be unpleasant.”
“Where are you taking me?” Frodo gasped. He pictured a dank jail full of leering Men like Harry and Will. Or the guards that Butterbur had threatened him with, those that liked to have fun with hobbit prisoners.
Many in the inn had grown quiet as Frodo was tied up, his nipple still tantalizingly visible, and they watched with seedy interest, and definitely some regret, as Frodo was led through the inn.
Butterbur ran from behind the bar.
“What is the meaning of this?” he called out, wiping his hands on his apron.
“I’m afraid your little gold mine is finished in Bree,” Strider said, pushing Frodo roughly in front of him.
“Gold mine?” Butterbur muttered innocently. “For what I pay him, it’s more the other way around, I—“
“Save it,” Strider said with a piercing glare. “You are fortunate that you are such good friends with so many of the lawmen or you would be coming with me right now, too.”
Strider pushed open the door to the outside, and his fingers dug into Frodo’s shoulders.
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no subject
Date: 2003-05-19 01:14 pm (UTC)Nasssty Rangersss... tiess poor precssiouss Frodo up with nasssty ropesesss, kinky ranger...
I lurved it, Claudia! Are we going to be seeing some Aragorn!Comfort, or is Our Man Aragorn going to be stern for awhile?
no subject
Date: 2003-05-19 03:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-19 01:25 pm (UTC)I read this in school right after you posted it, but didn't have time to reply lest I get caught being off task. I've been thinking about it all day and I just read it over and.... *falls silent and melts*
no subject
Date: 2003-05-19 03:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-19 02:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-19 03:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-19 04:55 pm (UTC)So do ya suppose Frodo will be able to bribe his way out of the pokey by doing a little something special for Strider?
*jumps up and down clapping her paws together like a deranged XXXXX!*
Re:
Date: 2003-05-19 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-20 05:28 pm (UTC)I liked your first scenario the best, that you sent me. Can't wait to read whatever you do!