The Darkness Envelops

The Darkness Envelops
Author: estaestangel
Summary: the ring seizes Boromir and uses him to hurt the Fellowship
Comments: :angela9in@ureach.com
Author’s Website: http://home.bellsouth.net/p/PWP-darknessprevails
Archived: yes, with permission
Warnings: borderline non-con, angst, violence, crude language
Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Tolkien envisioned them and wrote them. I am just creating fictional situations for them for my pleasure.
Author’s Notes:***Placed before text means a voice inside Boromir’s head not heard by others

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The voyage through Moria has proven to be an easier campaign than I had expected. We have made it through the first two nights with no significant problems. The hobbits are fearful of the darkness, but they stay close to one another as best as possible. If truth were told I suspect that we are all frightened of the darkness and the possible dangers that lurk behind every turn, embankment, or tunnel.

Perhaps, even the always-perfect elf is slightly hesitant about Moria and the darkness. Legolas has been nothing but loyal to the Fellowship, but I still don’t enjoy his over-protective nature of Aragorn. My job as Steward of Gondor is to protect and serve my liege. The elf needs to take care of the hobbits or Gimli the dwarf. He needs to keep his wandering eyes and hands off of my king. Did I really just think that? Aragorn would find my jealous streak profoundly amusing. It seems like only yesterday that I proclaimed, “Gondor has no king. It needs no king.” Now, here I am willing to endure the cruelest torture, humiliation, or death just to protect my master.

My loyalty to Aragorn is not totally based on his destiny. He may be meant to unite Middle-earth against Sauron, but my heart only cares about his future with me. I don’t see him as the warrior king who will save mankind. I see him as thver ver who will save me from all of my loneliness and regret. In a very short span of time he has managed to siege my heart, body, and soul, and I love him for it.

“Boromir, step up your pace. You’re falling behind” my fearless leader commands.

I grunt an affirmation at him and do as I am told. He is right. I have fallen behind them. I am pulling up the rear of the Fellowship, and I have most certainly become preoccupied with a certain ranger’s lithe body and pronounced confidence. His confidence is one of the many attributes I love about Aragorn. He is confident about his tracking abilities, his hunting skills, his swordsmanship, and I also love his uncanny ability to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Despite his confidence, he still has the capability of portraying vulnerability and self-doubt. He has never allowed these faults to affect his achievements, but they always lay right below the surface. He is perfect…

“Boromir, youryourd oud out of the clouds and help Gimli with this boulder” my perfect lover barks.

Did I say he was perfect? I give him my “let’s see if you get any action tonight” look. He simply ignores my glare and helps Frodo up the steep incline as I help Gimli remove the boulder from our path. Frodo, there’s another obstacle in my pursuit of happiness. He acts so helpless around Aragorn. He’s not crippled, but he certainly has Aragorn convinced that he needs protection every second of the day, and he can’t keep his hands off of him. That damn hobbit is always clinging to my ranger, and sometimes I want to take that chain around his neck and choke him with it. That thought makes me laugh out loud and I earn a disapproving look form the perfect elf and Gandalf. I simply smile back and continue helping Gimli with the boulder.


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As we journey on through the enveloping darkness, I find myself growing more hostile and angry with the others. Every laugh from Pippin and Merry makes me clench my fist. I wish they would just shut their brainless mouths. I have never met two imbeciles like these hobbits. Frodo and Sam are nauseating, but these two are getting on my last nerve. How dense can a hobbit be? Pippin, in particular has the knack for making absurd comments and creating havoc among the Fellowship. I would like to throw him in Mt. Doom, along with the ring bearer and the elf.

“Boromir, move up front with the hobbits. I’ll take the rear for a while. You can’t seem to be able to keep up with the pack.”

Perhaps, I can add a ranger to my list of Mt. Doom victims…”Of course, if that is what you would like my liege”, I abruptly comment as I walk briskly past him.

Great, now I’m stuck with the hobbit brats! Now I get to hear their infuriating comments about the need for food and rest. It only takes one comment from the always, hungry Pippin to make me snap. “Would you four stop talking about food? It’s not like your going to die from starvation. We just ate a few hours ago!”

“Boromir, that’s enough.”

I look back to see Aragorn giving me his “what the hell is wrong with you?” look, and I grow angrier at the sight of his exquisite face looking upon me so frigidly.

“What ever you say ranger. You’re the boss”, I sarcastically proclaim. I walk over to him and whisper, “I’ll show you who the boss is later. You’ll wish you never corrected me in front of the others.”

His eyes are unreadable as he glares at me for several seconds. I think about shoving him down in front of everyone and fucking him senseless. The idea of a begging, embarrassed, sobbing Aragorn makes my body react. It also gets my imagination running wild. I suddenly have the uncontrollable desire to shove my cock in his hot mouth and fill him with my cum. I lick my lips in anticipation of kissing that erotic mouth and forcing my tongue down his throat. My hands shake when I think about spreading his legs apart painfully and ramming my cock into his tight hole. I love the idea of hurting him. After all, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Right?

Gandalf interrupts my fantasy, “Aragorn, we must keep moving.” He acknowledges Gandalf with a nod, and he only brushes past me completely ignoring my comment.


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We walk further into the darkness, and I find myself filled with rage towards the Fellowship, particularly Aragorn. How dare he ignore my obvious disgust with the others and Moria? All he has to do is acknowledge that I am stressed and offer me a comforting pat on the back or a positive comment. Instead, he reprimands me and shows a lack of caring for me. He does however; show compassion for Frodo and Legolas. Why doesn’t he just fuck them both and get it over with? Does he think me as an imbecile? I can see right through his lusty stares and lingering physical contact. If only I could show him how much he is hurting me. If only I could demand all of his attention for once. I would love nothing more than the chance to remind him that he belongs to me, not the others. Perhaps, he just needs a reminder of who is really the master in this “relationship”.

“We will rest here for the time being.” Aragorn says scouting out the area. “Who would like first watch?”

“I’ll take it. I’m not very tired anyway.” Aragorn smiles at the volunteering elf. My blood runs cold at that smile. Usually, it warms my soul to see such a rare smile on my lover’s face, but tonight nly nly further increases my aggressiveness.

“I’ll start dinner.” Pippin predictably shouted out. “I thought we’d never stop to eat.”

“Strider, will it be okay to start a fire for warmth? I can barely feel my toes.” The little fragile ring bearer whines. I can see the look of regret in Aragorn’s eyes. He knows a fire may not be safe, but who can resist a sulking hobbit that’s in love with you?

“I would prefer not to Frodo. The smell of the burning wood could lead orcs or worse to our location.” The hobbits moan at his answer. “But, perhaps one for a little while would be okay, but just long enough to cook dinner and get warm.” He smiles for the second time today at someone other than myself.

“Boromir, see if you can locate something to burn.” I stare in shock at the most infuriating man I had ever known. I wasn’t cold. I didn’t need a fire. Gandalf’’s light was enough for me. As a matter of fact, I preferred the darkness. I would need the safety of the dark to do what I had in mind for the ranger later on during the night.

Insulted as I am, I still do as he beckons and stomp off to collect wood for the hobbit’s fire. There is now no doubt in what has to be done. The ranger will have to be put in his place.

After I start the fire and help Gimli to secure the perimeter, I settle down with the rest of the group to eat dinner. As I eat the scraps of food, I long to be back in Gondor with my brother, Faramir. I smile wondering what Faramir will think of our king to be. Will he hate him instantly or will he want him like I do? I hope for his sake that he hates him, for it was much easier to hate this man than to love him.

I look over at him and catch him staring at me. The look on his face shows his weariness with the quest and his disgust with me. I glare back to him with a look of frustration and wantonness. I suddenly realize how wanting I am when I notice a tightness in my pants. He is the only person I have ever met who can get this reaction from me with just a stare. I lick my lips slowly and stand up to stretch. I give him a small smile and head off into a darkened corner to rest.

I know he will follow me. We have been sharing sleeping space since our first night as lovers all those weeks ago. He claims that he cannot sleep if I am not near him, preferably holding him. The private moments we share in the dark cuddling are very special to me. He cherishes being held like a woman, and I will most certainly not deprive him of what he needs. His vulnerability always manifests itself during our intimate moments. He loves being worshipped, possessed, and claimed during our lovemaking, and he needs to be held afterwards, to be showed how loved he is without the sexual intimacy.

More than anything, I notice that my brave, strong, stubborn man needs to be held in the dark. I realize that while he tries to go to sleep when I am on watch, all he does is toss and turn and groan in frustration, Yet, when I finish my watch and I lay down behind him, his back to my chest, he simmers down. All I have to do is drape my arm around his small waist and whisper “I’m here now. Go to sleep.” and he purrs like a cat and goes straight to sleep. I’ve come to realize that my poor Aragorn has to portray two personalities. The strapping ranger who has to save the world and the fragile lover who only wants to forget the world exists.

As I await his arrival, I begin to get over my irritation with him. After all, he is only doing what he has to do to keep the Fellowship alive. He can’t help it that the elf and the hobbit are so fascinated with him; after all, he’s not an ordinary man. He possesses an aura about him that binds living souls to him. It’s as if he sucks the very soul out of you, and you spend the rest of your life trying to get it back.


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“Boromir, it’s time for your watch.” A voice awakens me gently. I look up into the face of the gentle yet powerful Gandalf. I look over beside me and see that Aragorn has not slept beside me. I nod my head in disgust and slowly get up to do my duty. As I stretch and try to wake up, I see him talking to Legolas. It does not go unnoticed that his head is in the elf’s lap in apparent comfort. No doubt the bastard is moaning and groaning his “feel sorry for me speech” to the accommodating elf.

The first thing I think about is how can Legolas still be up and talking after all this sleepless time? He has not slept since before we entered Moria. More importantly how can Aragorn still be physically or mentally able to grumble about his destiny to the elf? He is a mere mortal; he should be completely exhausted. I suppose his elfish training has something to do with the fact that he can also go days without sleeping or feeding. I clench my fist at the thought of him being raised by those self-centered, stuck-up, condescending, narcissistic elves. No wonder he’s so confused about his destiny. He is a man not an elf, but sometimes he has problems recognizing this fact. He tends to trust elves and to be more faithful to their cause. How can he possible hope to gain the trust of mankind when he doesn’t like the fact that he is a man? Despite his perplexity and my anger, I comprehend that he needs his rest. He is too important to the Fellowship not to be at his best ability. Therefore, even thought the bastard didn’t come to our “bed” to cuddle, I am determined to get him to sleep.

I suspect that he won’t notice my presence, but surprisingly, he acknowledges my approach. “Good, at least you showed up for your watch without me having to remind you.”

“Gandalf woke me. I see that you haven’t slept or ate as usual.” I look over at his plate filled with cold food. When I meet the elf’s condescending glare, I snap. “I knew that you were raised by elves, and you’re meant to marry an elf, but I didn’t realize that you were fucking an elf!” My blatant outburst has put them in a state of distress. “I’m sorry, I mean I didn’t realize you were a fucking elf.” I smiled aware that they caught my double meaning.

“You should be more well-versed of the situation before you run your mouth, son of Gondor.” I look at the elf like he is from another world.

“Whatever elf. It’s apparent what’s going on here. Although, I have to admit that I didn’t expect you to let him exploit you like this. You do realize that he’s cheating on me with you, and he’s using me to cheat on Arwen.”

“Boromir, let’s go somewhere else to discuss this.” I look at my lover and give him my best “fuck off and die” look.

“I have not been with him since you two got together. Although, I am certainly waiting for the day that you betray us, and he rids us of your presence.” The elf assertively lets me know while he continues to caress my ranger’s arms.

“Oh, I see. So, you were together before this little quest of ours.” They nod in unison at my question, and I feel my resentment and frustration hit its pinnacle. I begin to back away from the couple with romantic history. It topples me; that mother-fucking elf has been with my man first. My Liege. My Ranger. My Lover. el rel regenerated with my fury and contempt of the elf and my estranged king.

I walk away to protect them from my rage and jealousy, and to protect myself from more confessions. I grab my supply bag and a stick of fire for light, and I head off towards a chamber away form the rest of the Fellowship. I will rest here and let Aragorn fret about the next watch. I shake in anger as I pull out my blanket from my pack; that asshole didn’t lie beside me when he so desperately needed rest. Instead he sought out the companionship of the beautiful elf he wishes he could bed again. No doubt, he needs to play the aggressor sometimes, and I couldn’t think of a more perfect being to dominate, besides my ranger.

I throw out the blanket on the enormous stone slab that had once been a dining table suitable for a massive feast for the dwarfs, and I lay on my cover wondering about the future of Middle-earth and of the relationship I thought had with my master.


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Sooner than expected, I hear him approaching. This will be the first contact he has attempted with me in over a full days time. I am tempted to fake a sleeping state and hope that he will just disappear back to his precious elf.

“Boromir, wake up.” He caresses my hair and cheek. I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. “Please wake up love. We need to discuss this situation.”

“I do not wish to talk tonight. Perhaps I will listen to your apology tomorrow.” I slowly reach into my supply bag for my weapon of choice. He will never be able to defend himself if I catch him at just the right moment.

“My apology? I don’t think so. You’re the one being unreasonable. I haven’t done anything to you love.” I pull back from his touch. Did he just call me unreasonable? I don’t think so. I get my weapon ready as he continues to explain to me how I have been rude, insensitive, and bitchy towards the entire Fellowship today, especially Frodo and Legolas. Their names alone fuel my determination and wrath.

“So ranger, you fuck an elf and maybe even a hobbit and I’m suppose to apologize to you?” I want him to come closer to me. I need a shorter distance between us to strike.

He runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “I haven’t touched a another living soul since our first night together, I promise. What is wrong with you Boromir? I’ve never seen you so viscous and accusing.” I look at him debating my next action. Should I give into him and believe his bullshit, or should I take him hard and so painful enough that he remembers who owns him and claims him as his own?

When he steps closer to me, my strategy is decided. As he leans towards me in a plea to get me to answer him, I grab my “best friend “ from my pack and attack him. We wrestle on the table, eventually ending up on the hard floor. I overpower him and throw him on his belly shoving his face into the hostile stone. As he attempts to grab his oh, so precious sword, I grab both of his arms in a commanding gesture and tie his hands together behind his back. He struggles bravely against my actions, but I win out.

“Boromir, let me go!” he demands through clenched teeth. I wiggle in excitement. I now have my beautiful ranger at my mercy.

“No. I think you need a lesson on who is really in control here.” I tighten the elfish rope even tighter. I hear him groan in pain. “I’m sorry Aragorn. Do you not like my gift from Elrond? He insisted that I take this for the journey. He said it was unbreakable. I suppose I am just curious enough to find out if what he speaks is truth.” I grab his firm ass and squeeze as hard as humanely possible. He groans in pain, but it only excites me more.

I get up on all fours shoving my knees between Elessar’s knees forcing his legs apart roughly. “Elessar, you’re the hope of Middle-earth? You can’t even protect yourself from the Fellowship. How are you supposed to save mankind?” I begin to struggle with the agile warrior. It takes everything I have, but I manage to get him up into a standing position. “I promise you’re going to like this ranger.” I lick the very end of his ear as I pull his hard body close to mine. I drag him to the table where my blanket is at and shove him down on his stomach. I pull his body down to where his hips are on the edge of the table and his legs are planted firmly on the ground.

“Boromir, do not do this, please.” He grunts in pain as I kick his legs as far apart as possible. I can’t help but to stroke his lower back with one hand trying to ease his direst as I remove his boots with my other hand.

“Hush baby. I’m going to make you feel so good.” I remove his weapon belt taking extra care with Anduril. I allow myself to hold the sword that has seen the first fall of Sauron, after all, it’s not everyday a Steward of Gondor gets to hold such an impressive weapon. It feels firm, strong, and lethal just like Aragorn. I smile wondering what Isildur would think about “mankind’s last hope” being thrown into such a compromising position.

“Don’t touch that. You’re not meant to hold it…Steward.” He is definitely getting angry with me, and I was beginning to like this game more and more. Each plea and negative comment coming from his beautiful h onh only causes me to become more determined to complete my objective.

“Relax Aragorn, I’m not going to hurt your precious sword. I was only admiring it for its strength and agility.” I reach under him and begin to relieve him of his pants. “Much like I admire you for your weakness and vulnerability.” I can’t help but laugh as he squirms franticly for his freedom. “You’re not going anywhere lover. You might as well lay there and enjoy yourself.” I toss his pants to the floor and begin massaging his exposed backside.

“Stop this now Boromir. I don’t relish the idea of you touching me like this tonight. You are obviously distraught and not thinking correctly.” I only moan as I rub my covered erection against his bare ass. He wiggles underneath me as I lean into kiss the top of his cleft. I hear him breathing uneasily as I make myself down between his cheeks. He knows what’s coming, and his whispered pleas to stop, only encourages me to do what it is I have to do.

“You are mine ranger. No one else pleases you like I do. No one loves you like I do, and no one worships you like I do.” I dive into the very essence of Aragorn tasting his sweet puckered opening. I know that this drives him crazy, and I realize that he is quivering in ecstasy even as he begs me to stop. “You are mine Aragorn.” I increase the speed of my invasion diving deep into his body. I assault him with physical pleasure and undying devotion. “You like that…King Elessar?” I tickle him with a laugh when he bucks up against my invading tongue. “Oh, my king likes this does he?” I continue licking, tasting, and probing my favorite place in Middle-earth. “Does this Steward service his king well?”

He struggles for breath. “Boromir, I do not want you doing this. I’m begging you not to disgrace me like this. It may be physically pleasurable, but that is not why you’re doing this.”

I stand up abruptly and grab his hair roughly pulling his head backwards towards me. “What exactly am I doing then?”

“You are trying to show me that you have possession of me, but I am not a something that you will ever own. I am allowed to think and do whatever I wish to do alone or with others. You do not own me, possess me, nor shall you claim me.”

“We’ll just see about that!” I shove his face into the blanket, unbutton my pants, and pull out my other favorite weapon. “You may be my king but I am your master!” I slam my cock into his tight hole without one thought of injuring him. I want to hear him scream, and that is exactly what I get through clenched teeth gagged by my blanket underneath them. Once he gets over the initial pain and the screaming ceases, I release my hold on his head.

“Please…stop this now…I hate you…stop hurting me.” I only pound harder at his “I hate you”, remark. That makes two of us I think to myself. I do hate myself for doing this, but it has to be done.

“You are mine…mine…mine.” I want it to last forever. I am completely dominating him, and I feel a sense of pride at my accomplishment. Not every man can say they have had conquered a ranger, especially the “oh, so hard to defeat” Strider. This is what only someone like Gandalf or Saruman could do, better yet, Sauron. I moan uncontrollably at that thought. Yes, this is what Sauron will do to you Strider when you show yourself to him. He is going to spoil you and make you beg for death. After he’s through with you, he’ll give you to those horrid orcs who take pleasure in others’ pain. I would love to see you at their mercy. Will you beg and plead with them like you are with me? Will you cry tears of pain for them too? Of course you won’t. You have too much pride to do that. You will just grin and bare it won’t you? You only cry for the ones who wound your heart as I am now.

“Why is it that you don’t scream out for help? Are you too proud ranger or are you too afraid?” I slow my pace down a bit and makeonsconscious effort to hit his sweet spot. No need in not giving him some pleasure. The goal is after all to make him beg me to take him and claim him.

He moans loudly with my first attack. “Umm..Boromir don’t…Please…” I target his spot so well that his moans begin to pull me over the edge. I’m fighting the impending orgasm, but it becomes more difficult as he becomes more vocal.

“Would you like me to touch you?” His cock is pinned underneath him, and is undoubtedly soft and unresponsive to my invasion. “Would you like me to claim you? I tease touching his lips with my fingers. “Lick my fingers lover, and I’ll think about pleasing you.”

“Fuck you pig! I will not give you such pleasure as my surrendering to you, and I hope that you thoroughly enjoy this because you will never have me again!” I snicker at his words and slap the sides of his ass hard as I fuck him and his sweet spot harder. I know this will undo me quickly. He’s still fighting me like a horse that needs to be broken, but I will break this stallion soon. He will know who truly controls him before this night is through.

“You never answered my question ranger. Why do you not cry out for help?” I rub his lower back in a caring notion while I ease off on the pounding a bit. No reason to cause permanent damage. I plan on enjoying this ass for many weeks to come.

“I owe you no answer…oh…stop this…umm…torture…finish it off…umm…please.” He is so lovely when he begs, and I have just about reached the end of my endurance. I moan louder as my orgasm approaches. I squeeze his cheeks hard and pull out as I come. I want him to feel my hot cum marking him as mine. As my seed pumps out of me, I shake in pleasure and my knees begin to feel rubbery.

“That was fucking fantastic lover.” I proclaim smearin cum cum onto his cleft and on his lower back. “Would you like a taste?” I ask rubbing my fingers on his lips. I lean down and kiss his tear-stained face sweetly. “Whom do you belong to?” He ignores the question and lies still as I pull myself together. “I asked whom do you belong to ranger?”

“Arwen.” His cruelty knows no boundaries. I stare at him for a moment debating on my next course of action. Once decided, I act quickly. I turn him over abruptly pinning his arms painfully underneath his hard body. As I suspected, his organ is flaccid and unresponsive.

“I’m going to make you beg for it like a bitch in heat. I’ll make you feel like Arwen never will.” I grab hold of his cock and swallow him whole. He jumps about a foot off the table in shock, and I abruptly push him back down, I lick and suck him teasingly. I’m going to take my time and make him sweat, scream, and beg. With each trip into my throat he becomes more heated, and his pleas to stop become less frequent. I know that he is holding onto his control with a thin line, so I go in for the fatal ambush. As I am sucking my favorite cock, I gently insert one of my trusty digits into his hole. He arches his back in pleasure as I fuck him with my finger and he fucks me in the mouth. I know that I am close to breaking him when he begins to pump his hips up and down. Oh…yes…my ranger likes this…my bitch wants this…”Does my little girl like being fingered fucked by her daddy?” He looks at me in total shock then he releases this moan that I never thought a human capable of making. I have hit the jackpot. He likes my dirty talk.

“Does my little girl want to come for her daddy?”

He moans and pumps his ass harder to connect with my finger.

“Would my little girl like more fingers in her pussy?”

His breathing becomes haggard and uneven, and he is writhing uncontrollably on the blanket-covered slab.

“Answer me baby. Tell daddy what you want? Do you want me to finger your pussy more or would you like me to lick it some more?”

“Oh…yes…lick me daddy…get me all hot and wet for your cock.” I’m surprised that I didn’t melt instantly from the heat my body was emanating at that moment. He could have taken out Sauron with those words.

I decide to take turns licking and fingering that puckered hole. I love the sounds coming from him. With each thrust of finger or tongue, he edges closer to the edge. I alternate licking and biting his inner thigh as I finger him with licking his balls and cock as I pump into him with my fingers.

“Oh…Daddy, you’akinaking my pussy so hot…make me come…please stop teasing me.” I can’t resist him when he begs, so I go in for the kill. I take his cock in my mouth and suck hard. I add a third finger, and I thrust gently into his body. I look up into his face to see him biting his lip and arching his neck backwards. Oh, he does have a lovely neck.

“That’s it…suck me…” He is unable to complete his request because of a mind-blowing orgasm. His warm essence hits the back of my throat, and I milk him for every drop he’s got. I can’t get enough of his moaning, heavy breathing, or taste.

I give him a chance to recover before I crawl up onto the stone slab. He is still bound with his shirt on, and I suddenly feel compelled to rip his shirt into shreds. I want to bite and lick every inch of his body. “Would you like Daddy to take you now?”

He looks at me thoughtfully, “Oh, yes…but only iu unu untie me first.”

I hesitate for a moment. I don’t want him running away from me into the arms of Legolas.

As if reading my mind, he adds, “I won’t go anywhere. I just want to be able to touch you too.”

I look into his eyes that are full of need and I hope forgiveness, and I melt with love for this man. I kiss him gently as I undo the elfish rope. I grimace at the burn marks roperope has left on his wrists. I reach for them and kiss the burns gently. This is my way of apologizing for my temper.

I quickly make leave of his shirt and squeeze his nipples gently.

“Fuck me Boromir.” I smile appreciatively at him and bend down to bite one of those hardened nipples.

“What did you call me?” I tease.

“I mean Daddy. Fuck me Daddy.” I kiss him again claiming his mouth as my own, and I get my little girl into position. We lay on our sides, his back to my chest, and I slowly begin to thrust into his wanting body. I slide my arm around his slim waist, and he stretches his arm behind my neck. I smile because he has left my mouth in close proximity to a nipple.

Once I am completely inside him, I reach down to suck his neck, his shoulder, and his hardened nipple. I realize that I’m not going to last long. He is just too much for me.

“Yes, yes…umm…fuck me harder Daddy. Please…don’t stop.” I increase my pace at his command, and I begin tormenting his cock with my fist.

“Who do you belong to baby?” I need him to admit that he is mine.

“Umm…ummm. I belong…to youuuu.” He announces as he comes hard with another orgasm. I love the warmth of his juices on my hand, and he squeezes his tight ass even more. I can’t stop the pleasure rushing out of my body into his. I hold onto him tightly riding the swells of our orgasms together.


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I hold him for a few minutes in this position trying to slow my breathing and relax my muscles. I reach for his cloak that has beerownrown on the ground and cover our naked bodies. We really should get dressed incase of attack or the others’ roaming eyes. Instead, we’re kissing each other and nibbling on ears and necks. I take a hold of his face and turn it towards me, so that I can gaze into his eyes. He smiles as I caress his cheek and rub my thumb over his swollen lips. He truly belongs to me now. Surely, he realizes this after tonight.

I whisper into his ear “I love you ranger.”

“I know” I smile at his ease in forgiving me and I squeeze him into a loving hug. When I hear him purr like a cat and settle into my arms contently, I think about my actions and what caused them. I had hurt Aragorn like I had never hurt another, and yet he forgives me? Had this been what he wanted all along? Had he wanted me to claim him and take him? Had he manipulated me into showing my jealousy or self-doubt?

I felt myself getting angry again. Who did he really think was in control here? Had he said he belonged to me because he really meant it or because of passion?

I look down onto his beautiful face that is at peace in sleep. This is all I had meant to do. I only wanted him to rest, and somehow it had turned into a violation of trust. I am a bastard! I deserve to die for doing this horrible thing to the man I supposedly love.

***NO! It is his fault Boromir. He’s messing around with the elf and the hobbit. You had the right to put him in his place.*** IT hisses to me in a menacing voice. ***In fact, I think that you should have stopped right after you violated him, but no, you had to get all lovey-dovey with him. You gave him the upper hand when you did that.***

IT was wrong. I needed to show Aragorn how sorry I was and how much I love him. He means everything to me.

***Why did you tell him that you love him? You can’t do what you did to someone that you love Boromir. He deserves your contempt and hatred. He deserves to die for humiliating you in front of the Fellowship.***

I shook my head with doubt. He didn’t deserve to die did he? “It’s the elf’s fault”, I whisper into the darkness. Aragorn shifts slightly in his sleep causing my hand to brush up against his hip. I squeeze it gently suddenly aware of my need for him returning. I nudge my hardened organ into his back. He moans in his sleep disturbed by my invasion. I stop suddenly determined not to give into this animal need. He needs his sleep, as do I.

***Why don’t you get rid of the elf, better yet; get rid of the hobbit too. You can take the ring and the ranger to Gondor and be completely in control of everything. Just think how powerful you would be, and he would never betray someone so full of supremacy and wealth.***

I look down once again onto his face and wonder if he would follow me to Gondor if I had the Ring of Power? Would he allow me to be in charge of our people while he sat back and watched? Better yet, would he take his place by my side and rule Middle-earth with me?

***Yes, that will work. He will do that for you. After all, he loves you, does he not? He will understand your motives, and he will gladly rule the world with you. All you have to do is exterminate the elf and the hobbit and claim the Ring of Power for yourself.***

I massage his arm in thought. That’s not so difficult. I could kill them both and grab the ring before anyone realizes it. After all, Moria is full of steep trails, cliffs, and embankments. It would only take one or two missteps for one to fall of the edge.

***Yes, that’s it. It will be so easy to do this, and the ranger will worship you forever once you have possession of the ring. His devotion will be worth the effort and risk.***

As I stare into his face listening to the voice inside my head, I realize that I had done all of this pain and suffering because of this voice. It had been silently guiding me to do things against my will. It had violated my mind and made me wound the most important person in my life. The entire time I had been trying to show Aragorn that I controlled him, IT had been using me to hurt the Fellowship. IT had picked the person I least likely would betray and IT guided me into performing permanent damage of Aragorn’s mind and soul. If I could hurt Aragorn I could hurt anyone, and that’s exactly what it was trying to get me to do.

***I haven’t pushed you to do anything you didn’t already want to do. You wanted to take him, to claim him as your own, and now he is yours alone …except for the elf of course.***

I squeeze Aragorn harder in fear of the compelling voice. “Go away.” I whisper. I can’t help the tears that come from my eyes. I know that this thing is eating me alive. It is destroying my soul, and I’m afraid that it will use me to destroy the Fellowship. I must talk to Gandalf as soon as possible. He will be able to assist me…at least I hope so for their sake and for the sake of Middle-earth.

The End.