Title: Harsh Lessons
Author: Honeypossum (snapped_in_half@hotmail.com)
Pairing: Frodo/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Frodo and Sam make their slow route through the 
wastes of Emin Muil. However, even here there are divided 
loyalties...
Disclaimer: These two belong to Professor Tolkien, and I've 
done my best to return them in fairly good nick.
Warning: Rape, non-con BDSM.
Author's note: This is my first work of slash, based on a 
germ of an idea that's been sitting for weeks. Please send 
me feedback!


Sam had felt his rage building for days now. He loved 
Frodo, that had never been in doubt, but why did his lover 
taunt him so? At night, it was not Sam's tousled hair that 
Frodo would stroke with gentle fingers. Instead, he 
caressed the ring, taunting Sam with the memories of what 
had gone between them. As they lay in the dark with the 
sharp rocks cutting vicious silhouettes against a cruel 
moon, their packs as lumpy pillows, Sam could hear the soft 
clink of metal on metal as his master pulled the ring from 
its chain and held it. Stroked it. Loved it. The young 
hobbit no longer seemed to hear Sam's choked sobs of 
rejection in the night. He urged for a touch, a soft word, 
the knowledge that he had not been overtaken in Frodo's 
eyes by that damnable ring.

The days were bad enough, as they trudged their way through 
the hideous wastes of Emin Muil, with Frodo's harsh words 
and brooding melancholy. But the nights, the nights were 
much, much worse. Sam couldn't sleep for the frustration, 
the rejection. All he could hear was the rustle of Frodo's 
cloak as he stroked the ring, his whispered words to it. He 
wanted to scream out, to snatch the ring from his love and 
throw it as far as he could, to save his Master's sanity 
and their relationship, yet somehow he never did. But 
tonight, tonight he had gone too far.

He jammed his fist into his mouth when the whispering 
started, but it was worse this time round, more insistent. 
He heard Frodo's breathing grow shallower, more urgent and 
he clasped the ring to his chest. This time it was 
different. The words were harsher, more lustful. "You'll 
stay mine, mine forever, won't you, preciouss. Yes, you'll 
be with me always, never leave me, stay with me always, 
love me, yes?" Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see 
Frodo's hand slip slowly down his torso towards his groin, 
his fingers working at his belt, the ring clutched tight in 
his other hand. As Frodo's ramblings grew louder, more 
insistent, Sam saw that Frodo had his penis out and was 
slowly, but with growing insistence, pleasuring himself, 
all the while talking to the ring as though it was a lover, 
using words that Sam had thought were meant solely for him. 
After only minutes of this, Sam couldn't bear it any more. 
He leapt up, and pausing only to grab a coil of rope, bore 
down on Frodo, who was too enraptured to notice him before 
it was too late.

"Choose a ring over me, will you? How could you do this to 
me Frodo Baggins?" Sam snarled as he clutched and pulled at 
Frodo's sweating hands. "After all we've been through, 
after all I've given up for you, and you abandon me for 
this, this, trinket?" Tears were streaming down Frodo's 
face as Sam looped the rope round his wrists and bound them 
tight. Sam pulled Frodo close, so their lips were inches 
apart. "You will not forsake me. Not after all this. I will 
teach you, Frodo, I will punish you for what you have taken 
from me!".

With that, Sam flipped Frodo on his front and roughly 
pulled down Frodo's breeches. Taking his handkerchief, he 
stuffed it into Frodo's mouth to cut out his lover's pleas 
and yelps. Sam stopped for a brief second, suddenly taking 
in the sight before him. His lover, the hobbit who had 
caused him so much anguish, now knelt prone, helpless and 
gagged before him. Frodo's soft, quivering buttocks were 
presented before him, and in the shadows, Sam could see his 
cock, and with some surprise saw that he was still hard. 
Hurriedly, Sam undid his own breeches and pulled out his 
own erect member. He moved his lips close to Frodo's ear. 
"All the time we've been together, I've been your inferior, 
been little more than your slave. Now the tables are 
turned, and you will feel my anger. Do you understand?". 
Frodo managed a small whimper and nodded his head. "Good. 
Now you will be punished".

Frodo's beating was swift and brutal. He whimpered as the 
blows from his lover rained down on his plump bottom, 
turning it red, then purple. Sam's breath came hard and 
fast as he saw his hand leave welts and marks on the skin 
of the hobbit who had wronged him so much. His arousal grew 
as Frodo thrashed and bucked beneath his reddening palm.  
Frodo's moans turned to cries as he coughed the 
handkerchief out of his mouth. For a moment he felt sure 
his cries had been answered as the rain of blows promptly 
ceased. "Sam...I knew you'd stop. Why would you...?" His 
questions were brutally cut short as Sam viciously slapped 
him across the face. "Shut up, whore!" Sam sounded as 
though a demon had taken over.

"I've only just begun. This is months of rejection, of 
frustration, of enduring your constant fondling of that 
damnable bauble. This is what your utter contempt for my 
feelings has done. This is YOUR FAULT!". With that final 
shout, Sam moved round behind his captive, spread Frodo's 
bloodied buttocks apart and roughly thrust into the 
helpless Frodo. His agonised scream filled Sam with an 
unnatural, savage joy, and he thrust harder, and harder, 
hearing his lover's pained gasps and cries. As he felt his 
orgasm build he pulled out, panting for breath. He moved 
round again, back to face the terrified Frodo.

He looked into Frodo's tear-filled eyes, stroked his cheek, 
and then suddenly, with renewed savagery, thrust his penis 
into Frodo's protesting mouth, making him, forcing him to 
take his entire length, He held Frodo's head by the hair, 
and thrust deeply into that warm mouth, again and again, 
until he could feel his orgasm rise within him once again 
This time he let it rise, thrusting harder, coming in a 
shuddering cry as Frodo choked on his seed. He pulled out, 
and collapsed on the hard ground, his rage, his 
frustration, his hatred gone with the last throbs of 
pleasure. Behind him, he heard a low moan, and a soft 
voice. "Sam...".

With a cold, horrible realisation, Sam realised what he had 
done. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry.

He didn't, couldn't turn round, to face what he had done. 
"Frodo?" 

"Sam, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I had no idea. It's the ring 
Sam, it's taking me over. I need you, please." His voice 
broke into sobs. Sam turned to face his lover, seeing the 
angry red mark on his face where he had slapped him, those 
hands that had once stroked him with love bound so tight 
they were turning purple, and worst of all, his bottom, 
beaten bloody and purple by his own hand. He scrambled over 
to Frodo, pulling and fumbling at his bindings, crying 
tears of shame and regret. He pulled the young hobbit to 
him and held him, whispering his apologies and love. Frodo 
held him back, saying how sorry he was for his abandonment 
of his dearest friend. As they fell off to sleep together, 
Sam felt the ring pressed against his back, held there by 
his lover's hand, and fell into an uneasy sleep...