Chapter 12
Title: The Price
Author: Anemone Frost
Email: Weepingwillow987@aol.com
Pairing: P/OC; P/M; M/OC
Rating: NC-17
Summary: 12/? After Merry and Pippin’s night of lovemaking they awake to an unpleasant surprise.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Warnings: Rape and violence inflicted on Merry. Implied character death.
Archive: Ask first.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tolkien.
A moan passed Pippin’s lips as he slowly woke from the warming rays of the sun beaming through the window. His eyes fluttered open, coming face to face with Merry, also awake and starting at him intently. Smirking, Merry placed a gentle kiss on Pippin’s lips, causing the young hobbit mewl in appreciation. He parted his lips, allowing his cousin to slid his tongue in to dance over his.
“Good morning, darling,” Merry yawned. “Did you sleep well?”
“Very much,” Pippin chuckled, “since I was snuggled up against you.”
Merry stretched his limbs, gradually rising from the bed to rummage through the drawers, taking out two night shirts. He tossed one to Pippin while placing the other over his head.
“I suppose we should take a bath,” Merry sighed. “I’ll go draw it.”
Pippin nodded while tugging the night shirt over his head. A loud smack echoed in the air, causing Pippin to jolt out of the bed in fright. Merry tumbled back through the door frame, crashing violently to the floor on his back, gripping at his cheek where Pippin could see a welt forming. Three hobbits rushed into the room, brandishing swords and stooping down to haul Merry up by his arms. When the hobbit began to struggle one of the ruffians pressed the sword tip against his neck, threatening to plunge it in if he dared to move.
Rage and confusion spread over Merry’s mind at the intrusion. At first he thought they were being robbed but that left his mind once he recognized the hobbits. They were the same three that had tried to rape him previously. They were Marroc’s cronies.
Pippin recognized them as well, and he cowered, terrified that Marroc would step through the door frame at any minute. He was tempted to run to the drawers and draw a sword to defend himself and Merry, but he was too petrified to move. One of the hobbits seemed to catch his intentions, and he yanked on Merry’s curls, eliciting a sharp hiss from the hobbit.
“Move and I’ll slit his throat,” the hobbit barked.
“Who are you?” Pippin stuttered. “How did you get in here?”
“If you must know, my name is Ned,” the hobbit sneered. “These other two are Fred and Roddy. I’m sure you remember us from our previous encounter. How did we get in? Well, it was quite simple it was. The locks on the door aren’t very sturdy and easy to pick open. Marroc will be mighty pleased with our efforts. We have the two of you at his disposal.”
“He’s here?” Merry snapped, eyes widening in disbelief.
“Why yes I am,” Marroc cooly replied, lazily stepping through the door.
A chill ran down Pippin’s spine, and he felt as if he would pass out from the terror spreading through his mind. A sneer formed on Marroc’s face as he spotted Pippin. The wicked hobbit seemed a bit thinner but still very healthy. Any harm Pippin had caused him from the knife wound was obviously mended.
Merry instantly thrashed and cursed as Marroc stalked past him, paying no attention to the violently flaying hobbit, only keeping his intense stare on Pippin. The young hobbit trembled and backed up against the wall as Marroc cornered him. Heat and sweat broke out all over his face, and he was on the verge of tears. The older hobbit gently cupped Pippin’s quivering cheek, sliding his fingers delicately across the soft flash.
“How wonderful it is to see you, my jewel,” Marroc murmured, grinning sadistically. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you even though you did stab me.” He laughed as Pippin’s face contorted in anger. “Too bad you didn’t do a very good job. It wasn’t fatal obviously.”
“Why are you back here?” Pippin whimpered, attempting to squirm out of Marroc’s grip.
“To take you back home of course,” Marroc leered. “I own you.”
“No you don’t!” Merry yelled. “Paladin gave legal custody to me! You can’t take him!”
Marroc snorted. “I don’t care about the contract. I can do whatever I want. If I want Pippin, I will have him no matter what. It’s amazing what money can do for you. I mean, how do you think I found you?” Merry frowned. “Well, that little informant Frodo had running back and forth bringing you news about Buckland was eager enough to give away information for the right price. You see, once he learned that I was still alive he was anxious to seek me out. I can be very generous.”
Merry clenched his eyes shut. He didn’t know the informant, but would he would eventually seek him out with Frodo’s help and make him pay. Marroc had now forced Pippin on the bed, grinding roughly against his spread legs, creating a noticeable bulge in his trousers. Pippin was desperately tugging at his nightshirt, trying in vain to keep it from riding up and exposing his form. The hobbit’s tongue darted out and lapped at Pippin’s face, causing the young hobbit to cry out in disgust.
“Get off of him you despicable excuse for a hobbit!” Merry screamed furiously.
Marroc only grinned and gave Pippin a final lick before standing up. “As much as I want to take you my jewel I’m afraid there’s someone else I must tend to.”
The frown on Merry’s turned to one of panic. “What are you talking about?!”
“You, my pesky hobbit,” Marroc snarled, heading toward subdued hobbit. “I’ve often wondered how tight you are, and I figure there’s some pleasure to get from you since these three never got the chance to ravish you. Once I’m finished, they’ll have a turn.”
“No!” Pippin wailed, springing off the bed to aid his cousin.
Roddy bolted away from Merry and caught the sobbing hobbit. The hobbit laughed as he sat on the bed, keeping Pippin trapped in his lap. The others broke out in laughter as well as curses streamed from Merry’s mouth as he struggled to reach his cousin. A stinging slap was delivered to Merry’s cheek, making his head roughly whip to the side.
“Get him on his hands and knees like the dog he is,” Marroc ordered, shaking his aching hand.
A howl erupted from Merry’s mouth as Ned and Fred threw him to the floor and pinned his hands on the wooden floor. The pressure they were applying to his limbs was unbearable, and it felt as if his wrists would snap. The hobbit tilted his head and gasped in horror as Marroc removed his belt and undid the fastenings of his trousers, freeing his engorged member all ready leaking from the slit. He knelt behind Merry, lifted up his nightshirt, and swatted one of his pale cheek, making Merry hiss in pain.
“Such a fine arse,” Marroc cooed, smacking the other cheek, turning it a light shade of pink. “I’m going to make you so miserable for all the trouble you’ve caused.”
“Please, don’t hurt him!” Pippin begged, tears streaming down his flushed face. “I’ll do anything you want just let him be!”
“Sorry sweet one, but I can’t do that,” Marroc sighed. “This naughty hobbit needs to be taught his place.”
Merry’s mouth opened to scream, but he fought hard to keep it from coming out, not wanting to upset his love anymore than he all ready was. Marroc’s cock was jamming into his tight entrance without being properly stretched or lubricated. His vision went blurry from tears as agony swept over him, but he could make out snickering from three of the hobbits while Marroc grunted with effort to sheath himself fully in Merry’s body. Pippin was weeping audibly and pleading with Marroc, though the hobbit ignored his every word.
“Gods you are tight!” Marroc gasped. “You lads will have a fine lay with him.”
Clenching his teeth, Merry attempted to relax his muscles to make things easier, though it was hard to do with the burning sensation igniting in his rear. Marroc was harshly thrusting his hips, frustrated that he was still only halfway in the tight passage. The abuse made Merry give off pained moans as he felt his sensitive tissues tearing from Marroc’s member. He realized now that this the same torment Pippin had went through. The humiliation; the pain; the shame; he felt all of it. He prayed that Sam and Frodo would be stop by from their hobbit hole, but he somehow knew that if they did come, it would be too late.
“Please stop!” Pippin screamed.
“No jewel,” Marroc panted, starting to violently pump his hips. “It’s far too fun.”
Ned and Fred fought to keep hold of Merry. The hobbit was scrambling to get away from the miserable agony being forced into him, and Marroc was pounding so hard into the hobbit that it was driving his form forward, nearly making the other two hobbits lose their grip. Blood was trickling down the back of Merry’s thighs, making him cringe. He was relieved when he Marroc’s seed shot into him. Marroc groaned as he slid out, delivering another smack to Merry’s battered rump.
“Who ever wants to go next, go,” Marroc sighed, fastening up his pants.
He took Pippin from Roody, who eagerly went to Merry’s side with Ned and Fred. Marroc ran his hand up and down Pippin’s thigh while nipping at his ear, causing the young hobbit to cringe. A sadistic grin spread over his face as he watched Merry gaze up at the other three with renewed terror. Roddy eagerly crept behind Pippin and freed his straining erection from the confines of his trousers, positioning it over the seeping entrance.
“Hold on!” Ned snapped. “Why do you get to go first?!”
“Shut up!” Roddy growled. “You’ll get your chance soon enough!”
At that, he slammed forward, instantly piercing Merry’s passage. The blood made it easier for the hobbit’s cock to glide in but it didn’t relieve Merry’s agony. The hobbit couldn’t hold back a cry laced with sheer misery. Sharp nails dug into his waist as Roddy pounded into Merry as hard as he could. Groaning, Merry wrung his head as sweat dribbled down his face. He wanted the nightmare to be over. He wanted Pippin back safely in his arms. A pitiful whimper drew back his attention, and whipped his head back up. Marroc was fondling Pippin and chuckling as the young hobbit grasped his hands, trying to bat them away.
“Don’t you touch him!” Merry yelled.
“I think he needs to be kept quiet,” Marroc sneered. “Fred, why don’t you put something in his mouth to silence him, if you get my drift.”
Fred laughed darkly and unlaced his trousers, leaving Merry pinned down by Ned. His eyes widened in shock as the hobbit’s wet cock head grazed over his lips, leaving a trail of precum. Fingers tangled painfully in his curls when he refused to open his mouth, and he was given a sharp tug, making him whimper. The thrusting suddenly grew violent, and he opened his mouth to cry out only to have it stifled as Fred’s member slammed into his mouth, making him gag as it hit the back of his throat. He felt disgusted as the hobbit’s cock pumped in and out of his mouth. The hobbit behind him gave a hoarse shout as orgasm swept over him, and he pulled out, allowing Ned a chance to ram in the abused passage. The tearing misery returned again, and he squeezed his eyes shut as tears trickled down.
His body was savagely jarred forward, forcing more of Fred’s cock into his mouth. With a few more pumps Fred came, quickly followed by Ned’s orgasm. The three hobbits released him, allowing him to limply collapse against the floor. His aching mouth was partly opened, letting drool and semen dribble out while blood oozed out of his rump. Merry was weak from the attack and the agonizing pain that he couldn’t rouse himself.
Marroc beckoned the three hobbits to come to him, nudging Pippin toward them. The three held him tightly as Marroc reached for his belt on the floor, circling Merry’s wretched form. Merry tilted his head to glare up at Marroc and the look of defiance drove the other hobbit over the edge.
Merry gritted his teeth as the rough material collided with his mouth, splitting his lip open. A brutal kick was slammed into his belly, sending him reeling across the floor. Pain was shooting all over his body. His throat was sore, and he couldn’t cry out. The belt struck across his back, creating a stinging welt. Blow after blow rained on his body, causing his body to topple back and forth across the wood floor from the force. He lost track of time and the attack. He only heard ruckus laughter and the faint sound of crying from Pippin, and he felt his face starting to swell from the occasional hit of the belt or on occasion his fist. The searing pain was unbelievable, but it suddenly ended as Marroc wrapped the belt around Merry’s neck, tugging upward hard.
A gag rose in Merry’s throat as his air was cut off, causing him to buck and scratch at the belt cutting away his life. The room around him was spinning, and he fought to keep conscious, attempting to find his precious Pippin. For a moment their sad eyes locked, but Marroc yanked the hobbit’s head further up, making him gurgle. His lungs were burning and his skull began to throb. A few tears slid down his cheeks as his movements grew lax, leaving him dangling in mid air. He gave a few more struggles, attempting to clutch onto life for Pippin’s sake. Merry’s eyes closed, and he grew still as darkness swept over his eyes.
A pang of dread seeped into Pippin’s mind as he saw Merry’s chest failing to rise. The young hobbit’s mouth was open in shock, and it trembled heavily when realization dawned on him. Merry was dead.
“No!” Pippin wailed. “You bastard! You bastard!”
The young hobbit screamed in audible words as he lost control with his emotions. It repeated over and over in his mind. Merry was dead, and he was trapped in Marroc’s hands.
The wicked hobbit tossed Merry’s limp form aside and strode back over to Pippin, extending his palm to caress Pippin’s cheek. The young hobbit gnashed his teeth, causing Marroc to snicker.
“Calm yourself, my jewel,” Marroc laughed. “Someone gag him. I don’t want him waking up the neighbors. Don’t worry, Pippin. We’ll be home soon, and you will be back in my arms. I’ll have to show you the nasty scar you left on me.”
Pippin sobbed as a gag was forced into his mouth, and he was dragged out of the room. Merry was left on the floor, eerily lax and still bleeding from various wounds all over his body.
To be continued.
Chapter 11
Chapter 13
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