Title: Primal Lust 
 

Author: Isabelle Ringing  
 

Author's Email: slashingisabelle@yahoo.com (Feedback is fun.) 
 

Pairings: Frodo/Boromir (What other pairing would be present in one of 
my stories besides Frodo/some random man?)  
 

Rating: A major NC-17; this one’s pretty nasty, guys. 

WARNING: RAPE, Non-Con (duh), Bondage, H/NC, Cheesy Writing, 
Cheesy Ending, PWP, Unoriginality  
 

Summary: The setting is post-Frodo’s getting stabbed, pre-council. 
Boromir gets super-horny in Rivendell, and who better than my favorite 
little hobbit is to be used and abused to satisfy Boromir’s “primal lust?”

Author’s Note: I stayed awake until probably 1:00 AM writing this thing, 
my brain was driven by cookies and diet pop, and I still cannot believe 
that I wrote this garbage. I mean, come on. This story is utterly awful. It’s 
plotless and irrelevant. It’s brain-damaging and offensive. It was also 
inspired, in a little way, by Claudia’s “Splinter,” which can be found in 
Branduin’s Hobbit/Interspecies fic site and is also a story in which 
Boromir “has it out” with Frodo… so to speak. *giggle* If you like this 
one, you’ll like that one. I cannot *believe* that I wrote this…      

*

Boromir leaned carefully over the hobbit’s sleeping form, wondering 
about both Frodo’s elven beauty and what he was ready to do in order to 
satisfy primal lust.

The man had heard this fair halfling and his companion, Sam, making love 
on the very bed on which Frodo now slept. He’d heard every single 
whimper and groan. And Boromir, judging by the occasional “stops” and 
passionate words he’d heard, concluded that he had witness Frodo’s first 
real taste of sex. After making sure that the two lovers had finished, the 
Gondorian went from his unnoticed spot behind the cracked bedroom door 
and to his own chamber to relieve himself. 

Sam obviously cherished his master, and was gentle and careful as he 
rocked into Frodo’s passionate, naked body. Since the hobbit’s height was 
half of the man’s, Boromir rightly assumed that Frodo’s tiny body was 
built to accept no more than half of a man’s hard penis. Driving any 
deeper than Sam was able to would surely result in internal injuries, but 
Boromir’s lust clouded his senses and made complete satisfaction his top 
priority, even if it meant hurting that lovely creature. 

The halfling’s hair was clean and still damp from a late bath. His long, 
feathery lashes rested softly on pale cheeks. Soft breaths were coming 
from his slightly parted lips. He wore nothing but a thin, too-long 
nightgown that had obviously been made for the body of en elf. 

Boromir had first planned to mask his face, since he intended for Frodo to 
not be able to identify him at the council or anytime after that. But he then 
figured that a better plan would be to blindfold the young hobbit, since a 
mask might make it difficult to see his way and might even cause him to 
lose control over his victim. With the halfling blindfolded, Boromir would 
not be forced to look into those expressive eyes the entire time. 

Preparing a thick strand of shredded cloth in one of his hands, Boromir 
quickly lifted the sleeping hobbit’s head and jerked a cloth around his still 
shut eyes, and tied a tight know at the back of his head. 

Frodo gasped and his small hands involuntarily flew to his face, pawing at 
the blindfold. Boromir gritted his teeth with strange rage and smacked 
Frodo’s right cheek with violent force. The hobbit’s covered chest bucked 
slightly and he whimpered once, confused and trying to regain his 
composure while willing away the intense stinging in his cheek. 

Another brutal smack, backhanded this time, came from one of Boromir’s 
powerful hands to the other cheek. To the man’s delight, the halfling’s 
arms went limp with the pain of it while he managed to tie a cloth around 
each wrist and secure them both to one bedpost. 

Boromir was sitting on Frodo’s bare knees incase the hobbit should have 
decided to kick at him with those huge feet. He used his toughened hands 
to grip each of Frodo’s squirming upper-legs and roughly pinned them to 
the mattress. 

The man watched, wickedly amused and aroused, as the bound hobbit 
slowly came to complete awareness and began to wriggle his tied wrists. 
Boromir could not see the blue eyes, but see the skin of that creamy brow 
creased with fear and the pain from those harsh smacks. He felt the 
pressure of attempted movement underneath his hands and pressed down 
harder.

Frodo’s head shook, confused by the darkness that the blindfold threw 
over his vision, and his cheeks were steadily bruising and slightly sweaty 
from his struggle. 

“What is the meaning of th… this? Why… why are you…”

“Shush,” Boromir whispered simply. He was intent on studying the way 
those round cheeks flushed under the blindfold and the way those full lips 
drew labored breathes. 

The Gondorian had practiced his whispering so that the hobbit would 
never discern his voice’s usual tone or texture. 

“If you call for help,” Boromir began softly as he leaned down to run a 
hand down Frodo’s exposed throat and before stopping at the nightgown’s 
collar, “I’ll just snap your little neck.” Frodo gulped at this, but slowly 
nodded with compliance.

The blindfold visibly dampened with the hobbit’s shed tears. Frodo 
couldn’t see at all, so he was startled when he felt a large hand grip the 
sides of his jaw painfully and force his mouth to open up. 

Boromir took a deep breath and took a moment to admire the helpless 
creature below him before plunging his hungry lips into Frodo’s reluctant 
ones. The hobbit’s breath and tiny tongue were hot and sweet, and 
Boromir lustfully suckled at the soft lips.

Frodo coughed with relief when Boromir released his mouth, and after a 
few more frightened sobs and useless jerking of his wrists, he whimpered, 
“P… please… I don’t understand…”

“Be quiet,” the man murmured, irritated.

“I would’ve kissed you… if you would’ve asked me to, but… I’m begging 
you to untie me; my wrists are hurting. Whatever… whatever you want 
from me, I’ll try to-”

Frodo’s voice was cut off abruptly when Boromir pinched his jaw once 
again and stole one last, rough kiss before shoving a wadded cloth into the 
hobbit’s mouth and securing it there with another cloth tied ‘round his 
head. 

“Whatever I want from you?” Boromir mocked as he grasped the bottom 
of Frodo’s gown and jerked it upward, revealing his tiny penis buried in a 
nest of soft, dark curls. The hobbit’s strained whimpers were muffled by 
the gag. 

“I want from you only what you gave to the other hobbit. What’s he 
called? Sam? I saw the two of you.” Frodo, probably fearing for his 
friend’s safety, stiffened and struggled slightly at the mention of Sam’s 
name. “I saw him, fucking you, and you loved it so. You sounded very 
passionate, halfling.”

Frodo lie still, with his face nearly completely covered with restraining 
cloths, leaving only the tip of his nose and a few purplish spots on his 
cheeks peeking out. His breathing could be heard and his chest rose and 
fell rapidly. 

“I want to have you, hobbit. I want to know what it feels like to be in 
you.”

Boromir arranged Frodo’s body sufficiently. He lifted the hobbit’s head 
with unexpected gentleness and removed the pillow, letting the head of 
curls rest flat while he positioned the pillow under Frodo’s small behind. 
The hobbit had grunted softly beneath the gag when strong hands gripped 
his legs and lifted him onto the pillow. 

Boromir’s shaft was thick and swollen when, after much unlacing, he 
managed to release it from his tight pants. He crawled onto his knees in 
front of the halfling and, bearing his legs down on the hobbit’s thighs to 
lessen his fruitless struggling, positioned his cock’s head to Frodo’s 
opening. He’d previously decided to not use preparation, wanting to 
experience that tightness and slick heat in its entirety. 

Frodo’s cry was muffled, making it sound just like a high-pitched moan. 
Boromir groped and molded the hobbit’s buttocks, grunting when he 
managed to push the head of his penis in after applying much pressure. 

Frodo’s muscles constricted around the man’s thick shaft as it slid deeper, 
and then a little deeper. The unyielding abrading was burning the hobbit’s 
tender backside, still sore from his first time making love only the night 
before. The man’s shaft was long, thick, and rough, so unlike Sam’s. 

Sweat was beaded on Frodo’s forehead and inner-thighs. His wrists 
twisted above his head and each quick intake of breath was released as a 
muffled whimper of pain. 

Boromir looked down with sweat also running down his forehead. His 
strawberry-blonde hair hung in strands, damp. He noticed that, even 
though he was already feeling unbelievable pleasure and heat, his penis 
was only nearly halfway into the hobbit’s body. 

“Is this how far he got, hobbit? Is this how you felt when that other 
halfling took you?” 

Without waiting for an answer of any kind, Boromir drew a deep breath 
and used a good deal of force to thrust forward, and drive a few more 
inches of his manhood into the hobbit’s tight heat. Frodo’s whimpers 
stopped suddenly and his chest bucked with strength Boromir didn’t know 
the hobbit could have mustered then. 

When Frodo emitted another muffled scream, was vulnerable and not 
expecting, Boromir took advantage of the brief moment and slid his 
member completely into Frodo’s tiny body. The man’s head flew back and 
he was forced to reach up and bite the flesh of a hand to muffle his loud 
groan of pleasure. 

~End~ 

~Feed me back, please!~