The Sullying of Frodo, multiple pairings, NC17

Title: The Sullying of Frodo 1/1
Author: Claudia
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn Frodo/Boromir Frodo/Faramir
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Aragorn, Boromir, and Faramir all want excessively sweet,
naive, innocent, inexperienced Frodo
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
Story Notes: This story is dedicated to Trianne, Baranduin, and Lily--
and anyone else interested in such pairings. This is NOT to be taken
seriously--:-). I made Frodo nauseatingly innocent...

Warning: This fic is pretty much without plot :-)

AU: Faramir is in the fellowship






Frodo sat by the campfire, hands cupped on his chin, alone for the
time. They were taking a several-hour break in the middle of the day.
Sam had settled in for a nap, and Merry and Pippin were cleaning the
cooking supplies. Aragorn smoked his pipe, occasionally casting
glances in Frodo's direction. Frodo sighed and thought about how kind
Aragorn was. Frodo had stumbled several times that morning and each
time, Aragorn had caught him. A few times, he had unbuttoned Frodo's
shirt so that he could take a look at the old knife wound. He always
put covered the wound, warming it with his rough hand.

Watching Aragorn smoke reminded him of Bilbo. He wondered what his
dear uncle was doing. He pictured him sitting in his small rocking
chair beside the fire, dozing off to the sounds of elvish singing. He
wished more than anything that he was with him now! He would brew
some tea and they could talk about books.

Frodo heard the clash of swords. He smiled up at Faramir and Boromir.
He was endlessly fascinated by the strength of the men that traveled
with him. He had never encountered men before meeting Aragorn in
Bree. Their powerful muscles and enormous size made Frodo feel shy
and vulnerable. All three men had been nothing but sweet and
courteous to him, yet he still felt timid around them. He found
himself recoiling, his heart in his throat, whenever one of them
raised his voice. Just the other day Faramir had noticed him flinch
after Boromir had shouted at the company as a whole about something.
Frodo had overheard Faramir say quietly to his brother, "Boromir, you
are frightening the halflings--especially Frodo."

"You seem to be paying an extraordinary amount of attention to
Frodo," Boromir had said with an odd hitch in his voice.

"That is no matter for you to attend to," Faramir said.

Frodo had been puzzled, but it made him feel both curious and
deliciously frightened of the two Gondorian brothers.

Boromir met Frodo's eyes. Frodo saw the heat creep over his cheeks.
Flustered, Frodo looked down at his hands.

"Ha!" Faramir shouted, taking advantage of Boromir's lapse in
attention. He clashed his sword against Boromir's, causing him to
drop it. Frodo covered his mouth and laughed.

"You think it's funny, do you, little one?" Boromir turned to him.
Frodo could not tell whether he was seriously annoyed or not. He
flushed, clutching his arms together.

"No...oh, no, not funny," Frodo said. He cringed inside. He should
not have watched so obviously. Faramir sat beside him and put an
iron-like, sweaty arm around his shoulders. Frodo tensed. He was so
close. He could almost dare to touch the stubble on Faramir's face.

"Feel free to laugh," Faramir said. His breath was hot in Frodo's
ear. "I do not often beat him in sparring. Would you like to try,
Frodo?"

"Try?" Frodo said, his throat catching. The brothers stared at him
expectantly. He noticed Aragorn tense. "What do you mean? I am not
trained with a sword."

"Come then, we should teach you," Faramir said. "Though I would
defend you to the death in any battle, it is still not wise for you
to be traveling through such hostile lands with absolutely no
knowledge of the sword."

"There's a clearing not far from here," Boromir said, holding out his
hand. His eyes gleamed with pleasure. "It offers a little more
privacy--that is, if you would not wish for an audience on your first
lesson."

"Oh," Frodo flushed again, feeling flustered. Faramir looked
annoyed. "I don't know..."

"Come," Faramir said. "We will both go with you."

"Faramir!" Aragorn called suddenly from the campfire. Faramir
jumped. "Would you mind scouting the immediate area near the river?"

Boromir grinned, and Faramir sent him a deadly glare. Frodo got the
impression that Boromir was glad his brother could not accompany
them. He was confused. It was just a little sparring. He looked up at
Boromir, questioningly.

"Come, little one," Boromir said, holding out his hand. Frodo clasped
it, as trusting as a child. He was not a child and sometimes felt
annoyed that the men seemed to treat him such. He sighed, enjoying
the feel of Boromir's hand over his. He deserved to be treated like a
child. He was timid and shy around them, he needed their protection,
and he had no fighting skills.

Once in the clearing, Boromir said, "Come, draw your sword!"

Frodo looked down and to his dismay, he realized that he had
forgotten his sword. "Oh, dear! I...I'm so embarrassed but I forgot
it."

Boromir fell to his knees so that he and Frodo were the same height.
He clasped Frodo's arms. Frodo wondered if he was about to yell at
him. He shrank back, heart beating wildly.

Instead, Boromir did the oddest thing. He leaned forward and planted
his lips on Frodo's and kissed--just as Frodo had seen Pippin doing
with lasses of the Shire. Frodo's lips parted in shock, and Boromir
took advantage and stuck his tongue, hungrily searching Frodo's small
mouth.

"Boromir!"

The sharp sound of Aragorn's voice caused Boromir to shove Frodo away
from him. Frodo toppled backward and fell on his backside with a cry.

"Frodo, are you all right?" Aragorn rushed in the clearing and sank
to his knees beside Frodo. He glared at Boromir.

"Yes," Frodo said, still breathless from Boromir's act upon him.
Before he could react, Aragorn leaned into him and said, "I can do
better."

He pushed Frodo back against the grass. He kept his hands on Frodo's
shoulders and kissed Frodo with delicate care. His tongue reached
inside Frodo's mouth. At the same time, his hand crept inside Frodo's
shirt. His large hand traveled up and down Frodo's abdomen. Frodo
gasped. An odd swelling was developing in his pants.

"What are you doing?" he said, bright blue eyes gazing at Aragorn in
confusion. "I don't understand!"

Boromir knelt at Frodo's feet. He let his hands travel up and down
Frodo's calves--from his hairy feet to his ankles and then up and
down his legs inside his breeches. Frodo was flattered. These men
would do anything to make him feel better. They had known that he was
cold and miserable. They had gone out of their way to warm his body
with their huge hands. He hoped they didn't discover the swelling in
his pants. That would be unbearably embarrassing.

"No--I knew it!"

Frodo recognized the disappointed shout as Faramir.

"There's room for more!" Frodo called out. "They're just warming me
up!"

Aragorn groaned at that last. He kissed Frodo's neck, biting the soft
skin just above his collarbone. Faramir knelt at Frodo's side. He
pushed Frodo's shirt and jacket up, revealing two perfect pink
nipples on flawless pale skin. He groaned, tears springing to his
eyes.

"So beautiful," he murmured. "I wanted you alone, Frodo, but if this
is the only chance I'll get, I will take it."

"If you wish to warm me up--though I do not understand why you would
want to--I will sleep in your blankets tonight."

Faramir sucked in a breath of surprise, ignoring the hateful look
from Aragorn.

Boromir worked on Frodo's breeches. Frodo struggled against him,
trying to keep them up. He flushed bright red. If they should see
his arousal, what would they think? They would be disgusted. They
might hurt him.

"It's all right, Frodo," Boromir said in a husky voice. "I will help
you feel better."

"No," Frodo said, but Boromir pulled his breeches down. Frodo kept
his eyes shut, waiting for the men to recoil in disgust.

"Not so little, are you, little one?" Boromir said in a light,
teasing voice. Frodo opened his eyes. He didn't seem to be disturbed
at all. Frodo gave him a relieved smile, his eyes shining in
gratitude.


Faramir bent over Frodo's chest. His tongue swirled around Frodo's
nipples. Frodo moaned. He had never felt such sweetness coming from
all angles. Aragorn's fingers trailed down his back and found the
cleft between his backside. Frodo gasped, arching his back.

"We'll have to loosen you up, Frodo."

"Will it help to keep me warm?" Frodo asked. In truth, Aragorn could
not have come up with a better solution. How clever he was! Frodo's
body throbbed in warmth and sweet tingling. Boromir's hand clasped
his member, rubbing up and down. How sweet of the Gondorian to
relieve him of his discomfort there!

Faramir leaned over and allowed his mouth to hungrily move up Frodo's
neck and to his sweet lips. Frodo's lips throbbed, and he gasped for
breath. Boromir's hand rubbed harder. Aragorn watched him, trying to
keep his own fingers in rhythm. He stuck in two fingers, and soon
three.

"We will go in alphabetical order," Aragorn said with a sly smile.

"That is hardly fair," Faramir said. "He will be sore and tired by
the time it is my turn."

"Are you sure we will not hurt him badly?" Boromir said with
concern. "He is so fragile."

"You are not hurting me," Frodo gasped. A wondrous shudder filled
his body and liquid burst from his member, spilling over Boromir's
hand.

Aragorn had pulled his member from his breeches. Frodo saw that
Aragorn had the same dilemma as Frodo had earlier. He was fully
aroused and needed relief.

"I will help you," Frodo said. He felt such gratitude toward the men
for making him feel good. He would do anything to help them. "I will
help you to bring yourself down...though I do not know how."

"You don't need to," Aragorn said with a smile. "Just sit tight. Just
to warn you, Frodo, it will hurt at first. I will go gently."

"Have you ever been with anyone, Frodo?" Faramir asked gently. His
face looked stiff with disappointment. He had wanted to go first.

"What do you mean?"

"Has anyone loved you before?" Boromir added.

"Oh, I...I think. I mean, I'm certain about Sam. And Merry and
Pippin."

Aragorn and Boromir exchanged amused glances.

"And Gandalf," Frodo continued. "And most of all, Bilbo."

Aragorn's amusement turned to shock, though Frodo couldn't understand
why. What could be so shocking about his uncle loving him?

"We cannot sully this innocent," Faramir said, shaking his head.
Frodo turned his sweet blue eyes to him.

"Whatever you are doing, please keep going. I've never felt better!"

Aragorn did not need further encouragement. He gripped Frodo's
shoulders. He separated Frodo's buttocks and put the tip of his
member on Frodo's hole. Faramir, unable to watch what Aragorn was
about to do, bent and kissed Frodo with a vigor. Boromir held
Frodo's feet in his lap. He watched Aragorn, his eyes burning with
want, while massaging the hairy feet.


Frodo cried out in genuine pain.

"Hold on, Frodo, I'm trying to go in gently," Aragorn said. Faramir
let his hands drift in Frodo's curls. He kissed him all over his face.

Suddenly the ripping pain inside him turned to throbbing pleasure,
more than he could ever imagine. It was more than he had felt when
Boromir had relieved his arousal. He felt himself going hard again.
Boromir reached over and clasped his member again.

Aragorn grabbed Frodo's shoulders with bruising strength. He held
back his head and shouted Frodo's name. The thrusting came fast and
furiously--and suddenly it was done. Aragorn collapsed on him. He
kissed him tenderly on the corners of his lips.

"Are you hurt, Frodo?" he whispered. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to
hurt you."

"No," Frodo said. "I am not hurt. That was wonderful."

"All right," Boromir said testily. "My turn."

Boromir took the stiff, hot brand from his breeches. Frodo was not
sure whether it was bigger than Aragorn's. He hoped not. Aragorn had
filled him inside. Aragorn rolled on the grass, completely spent. He
watched in lazy contentment as Boromir mounted the halfling. Boromir
kissed Frodo's lips before entering him.

"He's still nice and tight," Boromir said to Faramir. "There is hope
still for you."

Frodo did not feel as much pain this time. He was stretched out
enough from Aragorn. It occured to him that the men may be doing to
him what hobbits of the Shire did to lasses in order to get
children. He imagined men must do the same thing since their
population grew in much the same way that hobbit populations did.
Frodo was flattered that the men had wanted to give Frodo the
experience that he may never otherwise have since it was likely that
he may not come home alive from this quest. Frodo gasped in rhythm
to Boromir's thrusts, feeling the luckiest hobbit in the world to be
taken care of by three wonderfully strong men.

Boromir cried out in pleasure, thrusting his hands in Frodo's curls,
pinning Frodo's head to the ground. He fell on Frodo, gasping for
breath and embracing him with such force that Frodo could barely
breathe.

"All right," Faramir said in irritation. Boromir reluctantly released
Frodo and crawled to the side. Frodo looked up at him, his eyes
clear with trust and gratitude.

"Somebody could help me...again," Frodo said, casting his eyes down
modestly. Aragorn immediately jumped to the task. He wrapped his
hands around Frodo's member. Faramir slipped inside Frodo. This time
it did not hurt at all, though Frodo was pretty sure he would not
walk straight for a week. Faramir gazed into his eyes with such sweet
compassion. Frodo pulled him down into a tender kiss. He felt
Aragorn's hands rub over him hard and strong. As Faramir gasped,
biting Frodo's neck as he spilled his seed inside Frodo, Frodo felt
release as well. Pearly liquid spurted into Aragorn's grip. Frodo
gasped for breath as Faramir rolled to one side. Boromir crawled and
lay on his other side. Aragorn crept until he lay between Frodo's
legs.

"Thank you," Frodo said to the three of them. His cheeks were
warm. "You made me feel much better."

"It was a pleasure," Aragorn said. "I would do this any time for you."

"Indeed," Boromir said. Faramir nodded, stroking Frodo's neck and
allowing his finger brush over his cheek. Frodo sighed, feeling a
warmth he had not felt since Rivendell.

The end