Chapter 21
Title: The Price
Author: Anemone Frost
Email: Weepingwillow987@aol.com
Pairing: M/P; P/OC
Rating: NC-17
Summary: 21/? Pippin's torment starts all over again, though something unexpected is about to happen.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Warnings: Rape, het content, and incest.
Archive: Ask first.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tolkien.
A/N: If you despise Marroc, then you're going to hate his sister even more. Read and see. ;)
Pippin shuddered in horror as he was nudged into another one of Marroc's home. Nearly three hours had passed since he was abducted from his home. This hobbit hole was different, and Pippin didn't recognize this area of country. He had never suspected that he would be back in this hell again. A whimper surged in his throat as Marroc's hands were tugging at his trousers and waistcoat. The young hobbit attempted to jerk away from the older hobbit's grasp, but Sindara shoved him back, taking her turn in groping him as well. Pippin was petrified. It was bad enough to deal with Marroc, but now he had an equally sadistic sister to contend with.
"Get your filthy hands off of me!" Pippin snapped, slapping away Sindara's hands.
The young lass gapped in shock, which soon turned to a twisted look of rage. "Why you sniveling...."
"Now, now sister I won't have you insulting my jewel," Marroc warned. "You'll find out in time that his pleas and whimpers are like beautiful music."
Sindara's face softened and she cupped Pippin's cheek, chuckling darkly as he shied away. "Perhaps you are right, brother. I would love to hear his sweet cries as you push inside of him. Will you show me?"
"You know I will, darling sister," Marroc murmured.
The young hobbit gasped as Marroc's arms wrapped around his waist and was hauled into the living room, and laid out onto a red couch. Pippin squeaked in terror as Marroc violently assaulted his lips, roughly plunging his tongue into the unwilling mouth as Sindara sat on the other side of the young hobbit, trailing her dainty hand along his thigh. He bucked and yelped as she cupped him between his legs, kneading his intimate area. Marroc chuckled and twined his hand with Sindara, joining in on the gentle ministrations.
"My sweet jewel, I tire of forcing you into making love," Marroc muttered, nuzzling Pippin's neck, lapping at the pulse point. "Perhaps....we could come to some sort of arrangement?" Pippin glared at him, gritting his teeth as the caresses grew rougher. "If you behave and return my love....I will allow you to see that mangy hobbit you so dearly love. I give you my word, and that is something I rarely do."
Pippin clenched his eyes shut as unwanted pleasure coursed through his groin. "Promise me you won't kill him."
"I can't do that," Marroc replied, "but if you please me, then maybe he'll live a bit longer than what I had planned."
"I'd listen to him, little one," Sindara laughed. "Otherwise that miserable creature may end up hanging from a tree by his neck with his innards falling out from a knife wound."
Heat flushed to Pippin's cheeks at the thought. The image flooded into Pippin's mind. He didn't want his beloved Merry to be killed or brutalized, but he didn't want to consent to Marroc's wishes. The older hobbit disgusted him and the idea of pretending to love him, to return his affection, made Pippin want to retch. He fought to hold back tears, though he couldn't control his heaving chest.
Shame flooded into Pippin's mind as he leaned his head forward, brushing his lips over Marroc, making the older hobbit gasp in shock. Slowly, Pippin rained kisses along the hobbit's parted lips and moved to his jaw, extending his tongue to lap at the soft skin, eliciting a low groan from Marroc.
"I'll do whatever you want as long as you will let me see Merry and won't harm him for the time being," Pippin grumbled between kisses.
"My jewel, please me and you'll have what you desire," Marroc answered.
"Then....please touch me, Marroc," Pippin forced himself to speak. "Just you...not her."
Marroc grinned widely and eyed his sister evilly, causing her to mumble incoherently as she scooted away, giving the two adequate space. The older hobbit removed his hand from Pippin's groin and started to unfasten his trousers, dipping his hand inside to touch the silky length.
Pippin squeezed his eyes shut, imagining that it was Merry slowly stroking his girth, causing him to harden. Sweat was dribbling down his brow, and his chest was rising rapidly from his heavy panting. He felt so ashamed. He felt like he should have been battling to elude Marroc's touch...not sit there and act like he was enjoying it. However, Pippin desperately wanted to protect Merry and this seemed to be the only way.
"Hm, you are so pretty," Marroc muttered, tugging hard on the lad's member, making him jerk as Marroc's thumb grazed over the sensitive head. "Does that feel good, my jewel?"
‘No, it actually feels wretched you vile bastard!' Pippin wanted to snarl. "Yes, Marroc, but I want you.....inside of me. Make love to me."
It was a lie, but Pippin wanted the ordeal to be over with as soon as possible.
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, my jewel," Marroc cooed, tracing his fingertips over Pippin's lips. "Suck on them and get them thoroughly wet."
The young hobbit parted his lips and allowed the digits to slip in, suckling gently and swirling his tongue to apply a generous portion of saliva. The coupling was going to be painful from lack of proper lubricant, and Pippin shook in a mix of dread and joy. He didn't want this to be pleasurable.
"Good lad," Marroc stated, easing his fingers out, now glistening from the young hobbit's spit. "Now, take your clothes off and let us see your lovely form."
Once he had stripped, Marroc quickly chucked his own clothing and stood marveling at Pippin's body, gliding his fingers over the young hobbit's pale rump and positioning him on his hands and knees on the sofa before inserting a slick digit into the lad's puckered entrance. Pippin grunted at the burning sensation and dug his fingers into velvety material of the couch.
"Didn't I tell you was a beauty, sister?" Marroc snickered, pumping his finger in the tight passage, curling to brush over the lad's sweet spot.
"Aye," Sindara murmured, "he certainly is a treasure. May I....join you?"
"You are always welcome to, my dear," Marroc answered.
Pippin's eyes widened in sheer revulsion as Sindara kissed her brother hungrily, lowering her hand to wrap around his cock, making the hobbit mewl in appreciation as she fondled the pulsing girth. He saw her mouth open, letting Marroc eagerly thrust his tongue inside, dueling with hers.
"Disgusting," Pippin muttered.
"What was that?" Marroc inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"Please....hurry....I need you," Pippin hesitantly replied, allowing tears to drop from his eyes.
"Impatient creature isn't he, sister?" Marroc huskily laughed.
"Have a little mercy on him, brother," Sindara chided. "Besides, I too desire that you hurry along. I want to see you thrust into that cute little arse of his; but first let me wet that pretty member of yours. Don't want rip him apart you know."
Pippin looked away as Sindara knelt to the ground, swallowing Marroc's entire length. The slurping sounds that followed and Marroc's delighted moans made the young hobbit nauseous, and it was hard to keep himself from vomiting. He tensed when the tip of Marroc's cock nudged his opening and breached the tight ring of muscles. Agony exploded into Pippin's rear as the older hobbit shoved his way into the delicate passage, causing Pippin to weep bitterly.
"Sorry, my jewel," Marroc sighed, leaning back into the couch and tugging Pippin along with him. Pippin was crushed to the older hobbit's chest, and he gripped the edge of the sofa with his right hand and used the left to steady on the back of the couch. This was an awkward position. "I don't mean to hurt you. If you would just learn to relax then maybe this could go easier."
"Just move," Pippin commanded, his voice wavering in sobs.
Digging his nails into Pippin's hips, Marroc began a sluggish pace, drawing out and thrusting back in to the clenching heat, each time gliding over Pippin's pleasure point, eliciting muffled groans from the young hobbit. He watched in revolt as Sindara began to shed her dark green dress, unlacing her corset and pulling down her skirts, letting everything pool to the floor, revealing her fair nude figure.
"Do you find me beautiful?" Sindara asked lustfully, kneeling before the couch and tracing circles over Pippin's thighs with her long nails.
"Perhaps on the outside," Pippin growled, "but you're a hideous monstrosity on the inside, just like your brother."
Sindara snickered cruelly. "My, he is an honest one! Hm, you had the same ideals as my husband. That didn't last for long, though. He had the nerve to forbid me from seeing my precious brother just because we were having a bit of fun together. No one tells me who I can and cannot see."
"Indeed," Marroc grunted, starting to pump harder in Pippin's body. "My sister and I have been playing together since we were in our early tweens. No idiotic hobbit was going to destroy our wonderful bond. So, while he was sleeping Sindara savagely stabbed him his fat belly and then slit his throat."
"I also cut out his eyes and kept them in a jar with my other collections," Sindara snickered sadistically. "He had such a unique shade of grey." She gazed into Pippin's eyes, making him tremble uneasily. "You, however, have the most gorgeous green eyes I have ever seen." The lass moved her hand to cup Marroc's over Pippin's waist. "Brother, wouldn't he produce the most beautiful babies in all the Shire. Hm, children with mixed shades of blonde and cinnamon hair along with piercing cobalt eyes or shimmering emerald and pale skin."
Marroc's eyes brightened at the thought. "They would be stunningly attractive. It's only a shame this little gem cannot become pregnant. He would look so exquisite with a rounded belly holding a growing life, and not to mention the sight of watching the newborn suckle from his teat that would bring forth sweet milk."
"A real tragedy," Sindara sighed, "isn't it Pip? We could raise the young together and teach them of our ways. How they would marvel at all the pleasures there can be in love making and how wondrous the sound of tortured cries of those they would choose to inflict unspeakable pain upon is. How they would marvel the mysteries of the flesh and all the organs that are held within. My sweet brother, how they would marvel our little blood games."
The young hobbit wrenched away from her exploring hands. He felt extremely dizzy from everything that he hearing. Pippin was suddenly very glad that he wasn't a lass. The last thing he wanted was to bring a life into a world that would twisted and mangled into a monster by these two vile hobbits.
"You create such a wonderful dream, sister," Marroc murmured.
An evil smirk formed on Sindara's face. "It doesn't have to be a dream, my brother. What if his seed were planted into my womb? Since you and I are twins, all those features would in those beautiful children. It could all be a heavenly reality."
"No! No!" Pippin wailed, thrashing wildly to break free of Marroc's hold. "You will do no such thing! Let me go!"
"Keep still, my jewel," Marroc hissed, tightening his hold to near pain. "You will behave unless you want Merry to suffer the consequences." He sat up slightly, leaving Pippin sitting in his lap, wrapping his arm around the young hobbit's neck as a warning. "Just relax little one." He stilled his movements. "It's a marvelous idea, sister. Come and join our lovemaking."
Pippin watched in despair as the lass climbed up the couch and lowered herself over his member until he was sheathed completely in her soft passage and nestled in his lap. Tears trickled down Pippin's crimson cheeks as the two began to move in unison. Marroc's cock was ramming over his sweet spot, and Sindara's passage was clamping down around his throbbing member, creating an unbearable ecstasy that threatened to make him burst at any second. The young hobbit fought to keep himself from climaxing, but it was a losing battle. He was torn between pleasing Marroc to keep him from harming Merry and to prevent from spilling his seed into Sindara's womb that would bring forth innocent children into a psychotic family.
The young hobbit began to scream incoherent curses as the small fire in his belly erupted, bringing orgasm closer and closer. Marroc was kissing his neck and sucking on the pulse point while Sindara tweaked his hardening nipples before taking one of them into her mouth, nipping and lapping gently. She griped his hands hard and forced him to caress her bouncing bosom, eliciting soft moans from the lass. Both took turns whispering encouragements into Pippin's ears, and each took turns in building the unwanted pleasure that was so close to making him climax.
Marroc was now pounding ferociously into Pippin's opening, and Sindara madly impaling herself over and over on the young hobbit's member, close to reaching her own orgasm. It wasn't long before Pippin let out a pitiful wail as his seed spurted out, causing Sindara to screech in joy. Both her and Marroc reached their peaks together, panting heavily and raining kisses all over Pippin's face before the two engaged in their own intimate, passionate kiss.
"What wonderful babies we will have," Marroc gasped raggedly.
‘What have I done?' Pippin thought. His eyes burned from tears. ‘What have I done? Merry will never forgive me. I will never be able to forgive myself if she bears a child.....What have I done?'
To be continued.
Chapter 20
Story Page
