Work Text:
It has been remarked by some that Hobbits only real passion is for food. A rather unfair observation, as they have also developed a keen interest in the brewing of ales, and the smoking of pipe-weed. But where their hearts truly lie is in pleasuring the other races of Middle-Earth.
Hobbits are a small folk. Of that, there can be no question. Even the tallest Hobbit would struggle to reach 4’ in height. The rest of a Hobbit’s body, except of course for their feet, is similarly proportioned.
A well endowed Hobbit’s member may be as much as 3 and one half inches in length. This has created a bit of an obsession among male and female Hobbits alike for the bodies of the other races. In particular, Hobbits have a fondness for the cocks of Men. Larger than the Elves and as thick as the Dwarfs, Men have the capacity to bring pleasure above all others.
The other races knew this of the Hobbits and it was of great regret that the Halflings rarely ventured outside their borders. Any Hobbit in the inns of Bree or further afield was sure to have no shortage of suitors or those willing to buy them an ale.
So it was that when the Fellowship of the Ring set out, our four young Hobbits grasped the chance to experience all manner of pleasure from their five companions.
So it was when the Fellowship made camp at Hollin, shortly into their quest, that the Hobbits soon found themselves paired off. Each companion having already had time to admire their respective choice.
Gandalf’s attentions, as ever, were lavished on Frodo. Having had many occasions for such meetings in the past, Frodo had lost none of his admiration for the wizard. His seemingly aged body disguised a great deal of vigour and virility.
Before long, Frodo’s dark curls were clenched in Gandalf’s fist as his head bobbed in the wizard’s lap. Soft sucking noises could be heard as Gandalf lay his head back in appreciation of the young Baggins’s eagerness to please. He never grew tired of Frodo’s supreme abilities. Many Hobbits struggled to swallow the large cocks of others, but Frodo had trained himself for years on the Grey’s cock, allowing him to take it to the root without difficulty.
Many important matters had had to wait over the years as Gandalf tarried in Bag End, taking one or two extra nights of Frodo’s company. And that is not to even mention the luxury of the young Hobbit’s arse.
Gimli had turned his eye towards Samwise. The more rotund Hobbit reminded him of the Dwarven women at home in Erebor, perhaps if they shaved. His cock, shorter than Men but just as thick, if not more so, was causing Sam to have difficulty accommodating it in his mouth. The Hobbit’s lips stretched wide around the Dwarven girth, cheeks hollowing as he worked his tongue along the veined underside. Gimli’s rough hands tangled in Sam’s sandy hair, guiding the pace with grunts of approval.
“That’s it, lad”, the Dwarf rumbled, his voice like grinding stone. “Take it deeper. Ye’ve got the build for it”. Sam’s eyes watered, but he pushed on, determined to prove his mettle. The rotund Hobbit had always been curious about Dwarves, their sturdy frames and unyielding stamina whispered about in Shire tales. Now, with Gimli’s balls heavy against his chin, Sam felt that curiosity ignite into raw need.
Legolas had never been much of a top. While Elves were not known to particularly favour the life of a bottom, the lithe prince found himself drawn to the playful energy of Pippin Took. The youngest Hobbit, with his mop of unruly curls and mischievous grin, had caught Legolas’s eye during their march. Pippin, ever the bold one, had sidled up to the Elf under the stars of Hollin, whispering promises of Hobbit hospitality that went far beyond second breakfasts.
Now, Pippin knelt before Legolas, his small hands wrapped around the Elf’s slender yet impressively long cock. Elven anatomy was a marvel; smooth, pale skin over a shaft that curved elegantly upward, the tip already leaking a clear bead of precum. Pippin lapped at it eagerly, savouring the subtle, floral taste that differed so sharply from the earthy musk of Men or Dwarves. “Hmmm, like honeyed wine”, Pippin murmured, before sliding his mouth down, taking half the length with a wet slurp. Legolas’s breath hitched, his fingers threading gently through Pippin’s hair, not pulling but encouraging. Elves moved with grace even in passion, and Legolas’s hips rocked subtly, feeding more of his cock into the Hobbit’s willing throat.
With a pop, he pulled off, grinning up at the Elf. “Your turn to feel a Hobbit’s touch,’ he said, tugging Legolas down to the bedroll. The Elf complied, his lithe body stretching out as Pippin straddled his face, presenting his pert arse. Legolas’s tongue darted out, tracing the Hobbit’s tight entrance with delicate flicks before pressing in, tasting the clean, musky warmth. Pippin moaned, grinding back, his own small cock hardening against his belly as the Elf rimmed him thoroughly.
Across the camp, the sounds of pleasure mingled under the ancient trees; soft moans, wet smacks, and heavy breaths. Merry, the greedy one, was in ecstasy spitted between Boromir and Aragorn. The Man of Gondor had claimed the Hobbit’s mouth first, his thick cock, veined and heavy and easily 7”, thrusting steadily as Merry sucked with hollowed cheeks, drool spilling down his chin. Boromir’s hands gripped Merry’s shoulders, the warrior’s muscles flexing with each push. “Greedy little thing”, Boromir growled, his voice laced with lust. “Suck it like you mean it”.
Aragorn, the Ranger, took the other end, his callused fingers spreading Merry’s cheeks to expose his puckered hole. The heir of Isildur spat onto his palm, slicking his own cock, slightly longer than Boromir’s, with a girth that made Merry whimper around the cock in his mouth. Aragorn pressed the blunt head against the Hobbit’s entrance, pushing in slowly at first, inch by inch, until his hips met soft flesh. Merry’s body tensed, then relaxed into the fullness, his muffled cries vibrating along Boromir’s shaft.
They found a rhythm quickly. Boromir fucking Merry’s face with deep, claiming thrusts, while Aragorn pounded his arse from behind, the slap of skin echoing. Merry’s small cock bobbed untouched, leaking steadily as the two Men used him like a vessel for their desires. The contrast thrilled him; the raw power of Men, their cocks stretching him in ways no Hobbit ever could. Sweat beaded on their bodies, the air thick with the scent of arousal.
Frodo, ever the devoted one, had moved beyond oral worship. With Gandalf’s cock now slick from his mouth, the wizard flipped the Hobbit onto his hands and knees. Frodo’s arse, round and inviting despite his small stature, lifted eagerly. Gandalf’s staff was a thing of legend among Hobbits; long and girthy, with a slight upward curve that hit just right. The wizard aligned himself, rubbing the head against Frodo’s entrance before sinking in with a single, firm push.
Frodo gasped, his fingers digging into the bedroll as Gandalf filled him completely. “Oh, Mithrandir”, he breathed, the old name slipping out in his haze of pleasure. The wizard’s hands gripped Frodo’s hips, pulling him back onto each thrust. Gandalf moved with surprising power for his apparent age, his balls slapping against the Hobbit’s as he drove deep. Years of these encounters had honed their connection; Frodo clenched around him, milking the shaft with practiced ease. Gandalf’s free hand reached around, stroking Frodo’s modest cock in time with his thrusts, drawing out whimpers and pleas.
Sam, still struggling with Gimli’s thickness, finally managed to deepthroat the Dwarf, his throat bulging slightly as he took it all. Gimli praised him with a hearty laugh, then lifted Sam effortlessly, positioning the Hobbit to straddle his lap. Sam’s weight settled onto the Dwarven cock, his hole stretching wide around the invading girth. “Aye, that’s better”, Gimli said, hands on Sam’s plump rear, guiding him up and down. The motion was rough, unyielding, Sam’s body bouncing with each descent, his own cock rubbing against Gimli’s hairy belly.
Pippin, now fully seated on Legolas’s face, rode the Elf’s tongue until he came with a sharp cry, spurting across Legolas’s chest. The Elf lapped at him through the aftershocks, then flipped their positions, sliding his cock into Pippin’s slick, relaxed arse. Elven thrusts were precise, hitting that spot inside that made Pippin’s toes curl, his small body arching in bliss.
As the fires of Hollin dimmed to embers, the Fellowship’s indulgences escalated, the night air thick with the raw symphony of flesh meeting flesh. The Hobbits’ diminutive frames proved a boon in this frenzy. Their slight builds allowing the taller companions to hoist and position them with effortless dominance. Frodo, barely reaching Gandalf’s waist even on his knees, was lifted like a ragdoll by the wizard’s strong arms, his legs wrapping around the Grey’s torso as Gandalf impaled him on that legendary cock once more. The Hobbit’s weight was negligible, letting Gandalf bounce him up and down with rapid, short thrusts, Frodo’s arse clenching around the invading shaft while his own small dick slapped against Gandalf’s robed belly.
“Take it all, my eager one”, Gandalf grunted, his hips snapping upward to bury himself balls deep. Frodo’s cries echoed, his body folding easily into the wizard’s grip, every inch of his short stature exploited for maximum penetration. The wizard spun him mid-thrust, pressing Frodo’s back against a tree trunk, the rough bark scraping his skin as Gandalf pinned him there, fucking relentlessly into the tight heat.
Nearby, Sam’s plump form was no hindrance to Gimli’s Dwarven strength. The stout warrior scooped the Hobbit up by the thighs, spreading his legs wide like a toy meant for play. Sam’s hole, still slick from earlier, stretched anew around Gimli’s thick cock as the Dwarf lowered him onto it, gravity doing half the work. The Hobbit’s feet dangled uselessly off the ground, his belly pressing against Gimli’s chest while the Dwarf’s hands kneaded his arse cheeks, guiding the descent until Sam’s rim kissed the hairy base. “Ye’re taking this like you were Dwarven forged for it, round and ready”, Gimli rumbled, lifting Sam only to drop him again, the slap of bodies resounding. Sam’s cock, modest and leaking, rubbed against the Dwarf’s coarse hair, the height difference turning him into a perfect sleeve for Gimli’s relentless pounding.
Merry, ever insatiable, found himself passed between Boromir and Aragorn like a shared plaything. The Gondorian captain hoisted the slender Hobbit onto his shoulders first, Merry’s thighs clamping around Boromir’s head as the Man’s tongue plunged into his arse, lapping hungrily at the stretched entrance. Merry’s small hands clutched Boromir’s hair for balance, his body light enough that the warrior could stand and devour him without strain, walking a few paces to show off the Hobbit’s dangling cock to Aragorn. The Ranger smirked, stepping close to suck Merry’s tip into his mouth, the dual assault making the Hobbit buck and whine.
Aragorn then claimed him fully, flipping Merry onto all fours and mounting him from behind. The Ranger’s long cock slid into Merry’s arse with a wet squelch, the Hobbit’s back arching low to accommodate the height. Aragorn’s hands spanned nearly Merry’s entire waist, gripping tight as he thrust forward, pulling the smaller body back to meet each drive. “So easy to handle, like you were made for our cocks”, Aragorn murmured, echoing Gimli’s appreciation for the Hobbit’s sexual utility, his pace quickening, balls slapping against Merry’s thighs. Boromir watched, stroking his own thick shaft, before kneeling in front to feed it into Merry’s mouth, the Hobbit’s jaw working overtime to accommodate the girth while his body rocked between the two Men.
Pippin, the lightest of the bunch, became Legolas’s favoured diversion. The Elf’s graceful strength let him toss the young Took about with elven precision. Pippin was lifted high, his legs hooked over Legolas’s shoulders as the Elf ate his arse standing up, tongue delving deep into the puckered hole. Pippin’s curls bounced with each lick, his small cock pointing skyward, untouched yet dripping. “Hold still, little one”, Legolas breathed, his voice melodic even in lust, before lowering Pippin onto his curved shaft. The Hobbit’s feet barely brushed the ground, his body impaled fully, arse cheeks spread wide by the Elf’s hands. Legolas walked with him like this, fucking upward in smooth glides, Pippin’s weight shifting with every step, turning the act into a mobile claiming.
The pairings blurred as stamina waned and desires peaked. Frodo was traded to Aragorn, who bent the ring-bearer over a log, his short legs kicking as the Ranger’s cock hammered home, the height allowing Aragorn to fold Frodo nearly in half for deeper access. Sam serviced Boromir next, his mouth stretched around the Man’s heavy balls while Gimli took his arse from behind, the Dwarf’s thrusts jolting Sam’s body forward like a piston. Merry rimmed Legolas, his face buried in the Elf’s firm cheeks, tongue probing while Gandalf fucked his hole, the wizard’s grip on Merry’s hips bruising in its fervour. Pippin bounced on Gimli’s lap, then sucked Boromir clean, his tiny frame shuttled between cocks with gleeful abandon.
Their small sizes amplified every sensation: the way a Man’s cock could fill a Hobbit completely, leaving no room for anything but surrender; how Dwarven thickness split them wide, turning arses into greedy voids; Elven length hitting depths that made toes curl and eyes roll. The larger races revelled in the control, lifting, spinning, and pinning the Hobbits at will, their bodies ideal for rough handling, portable pleasures that fit anywhere in the camp.
As dawn’s first light crept over the hills, exhaustion guided them to a final ritual. The Hobbits, spent and slick with sweat and seed, knelt in a tight circle at the camp’s centre, their short statures bringing their faces level with the standing cocks of their companions. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin looked up with hazy, satisfied eyes, mouths parted in anticipation. The others encircled them; Gandalf’s girthy staff throbbing, Aragorn’s long shaft veined and ready, Boromir’s thick length pulsing, Gimli’s stubby but massive cock dripping, Legolas’s elegant prick curved and leaking.
Strokes quickened in unison, hands pumping furiously. First, Gimli erupted with a bellow, ropes of thick cum splattering Sam’s face and chest, the Dwarf’s load heavy and pearly. Boromir followed, grunting as he aimed for Merry, coating the Hobbit’s curls and open mouth in hot spurts. Aragorn’s release hit Frodo next, the Ranger’s seed arcing to paint the ring-bearer’s cheeks and lips, dripping down his chin. Legolas sighed elegantly, his cum landing in delicate streams across Pippin’s tongue and nose. Finally, Gandalf unleashed, his wizardly essence flooding Frodo’s waiting mouth before spilling over to the others, mingling in a shared bukkake bath.
The Hobbits licked and swallowed what they could, bodies marked as vessels of the Fellowship’s unity, their small forms glistening under the morning glow. The quest would continue, but this bond, forged in flesh, would endure.