Chums of the Ring
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It was the eleventy-eleventh day of the year, the last day of 
April or the first of May, depending upon whether one used 
the archaic or the runic measurement of days. But 
irrespective of which calendar system was complied with, 
Frilbo Bobbit and his three chums were relishing the 
benefit of the Spring sunshine. And such a glorious vernal 
day it was too! The swallows swooped over the grass 
moorland, pheasants strode proudly by, their blue and red 
feathers glorious against the blue, red and yellow hue of 
the wild flowers of the meadows, and above the four 
chums loomed a blue sky dappled by the odd passing 
cloud: white and non-threatening, not at all suggestive of 
the misery and drizzle prevalent in the Realm of Dark 
Thunder toward which their quest was to take them.

But, at that moment, for Sid, Jollity and Niblet, Frilbo's 
three similarly diminutive chums, such dark thoughts were 
banished as they wrapped their naked bodies around each 
other and the grass stains of their amorous passion 
coloured their knees. Sid's mouth was locked around 
Jollity's potent member, pumping his lips and throat back 
and forth on its invigorating hugeness. Behind him, 
Niblet's penis was thrusting into Sid's arse, whilst his hand 
pumped Sid's own erect penis upon which he had only 
moments before been impaled. Above Sid, the two chums, 
Niblet and Jollity, so devoted as friends that the 
designation of espousal was not at all inappropriate, battled 
their tongues together in adoring, open-mouthed urgency. 

Frilbo observed his naked chums with envy. He himself 
wore only his tunic, having abandoned his britches at the 
Muggledown Tavern, along with those of his three 
companions, after they had been obliged to leave in such 
indecent haste when the Inclement Horsemen stampeded 
through the inn, butchering the tavern-keeper and his trusty 
servant. Frilbo's erect penis bore evidence of his desire to 
accompany his chums in their fuck and suck fun and 
frolics, but as our hero contemplated the gold ring threaded 
through the glans of his penis, engorged by the blessing of 
this Ring of Dark Dreariness to dimensions greater than 
that normal to one of the denizens of Middle Thwaite, he 
reflected also why it was not advisable that he let the 
enticement of his chums' flesh tempt him to the species of 
sexual congress toward which he was most devoted.

When the Great Wizard Waldorf entrusted Frilbo with the 
ring, threading it through his penis with a magic spell, he 
also explained that although it had now blessed the little 
lad with a penis the envy of all his chums, and of all the 
other virile youth of Middle Thwaite, this was an onerous 
blessing. His was an erection to be satisfied only within the 
anus of the Dark Lord of Thunder in his Dismal Realm, 
also known as the Morbid Dominion, and until that time it 
was Frilbo's duty to restrain from the pleasures of sodomy 
if he wished to save the people of Middle Thwaite, and 
indeed all the people of the known universe, from the evil 
machinations of the Dark Lord Thesaurus. 

And here Frilbo was, having travelled full many a league 
from the village of Bumbleberry Marsh, across the Plains 
of Drizzleforth, through the shadowy forests of 
Bombadildo, over the great Ribbly Dibbly River and 
beyond even the distant town of Muggledown where the 
Inclement Horsemen had sought the arses of his three 
chums and he as they fucked, sucked and buggered each 
other, in the company of the fair youths of the tavern. And 
now, if he were in Bumbleberry Marsh today, the eleventy-
eleventh of the year, it would be the great day of Vernal 
Celebration where his anus would normally welcome many 
a fair cock into its tight embrace.

Frilbo stroked his long penis with melancholy sadness as 
he ruminated on the joys of buggery and boisterousness 
now denied him. He reminisced of the circle of fair youths, 
joined cock to tail, as the boys of the village competed in 
their animated passion for the title of best and most 
persistent fucker. The roars of laughter as, one by one, the 
boys would surrender, their penises shrivelled as they gave 
of their precious seed inside or on top of each other, until 
there might be only two or three fuckers left, often 
including himself and his faithful servant, Sid. 

And now, much as he was so eager to fuck, the opportunity 
was forbidden him to penetrate the fair rim of any of his 
three companions; although this was an abstinence the 
others need not observe, even faithful Sid, whom Frilbo so 
much enjoyed fucking, but now granted leave to fuck and 
be fucked by young Jollity and Niblet.

"To be sure, sire, you be dreadfully down in the dumps," 
remarked Sid, who had reluctantly disengaged himself 
from Niblet and Jollity to be by his master's side. The other 
two chums continued regardless, mouth attached to and 
chewing at the cock of the other, the stains of grass, 
buttercups and daisies sullying their pale white skin.

Frilbo sadly regarded his servant, naked from his lush red 
locks to his bare feet, his penis still semi-erect and a 
persistent moist trickle of clear pale semen in the red hair 
of his inner thigh: whether his or one of the other chums' 
Frilbo did not know. 

"You speak aright, dear Sid. I be in a right frump. Today it 
is that we would be celebrating the eleventy-eleventh. 
Instead here we be, many leagues yonder, only to convey to 
the dismal denizens the buggering of the ring."

"'Tis a sore duty, sire, to have to fuck the Lord of 
Wickedness, that be so. Although the ring doth suit ye fine, 
sire. Your cock is a true majesty. May I be permitted to 
suck it for ye?"

"You may that, dear faithful Sid," Frilbo agreed. "You may 
lick it dry. But as you know, I cannot take your dear arse as 
I so much desire."

"That is for the vile Duke of Darkness, I know, sire. That 
his arse should be so honoured, and every other denied, is 
such a curse that I cannot declare! And he, I am sure, is 
Duke of the Dangleberries as well as of every other 
foulness."

"Dangleberries!" exclaimed Frilbo, who was in horror of 
fucking an arse too ripe in haemorrhoids and dreaded the 
dangleberry plague as much as he did that of sucking a 
prick dipped in diarrhoea. "Surely there are not too many 
horrors that we must endure, sweet Frilbo. Come ply your 
lips to my cock. Perchance the release of my manhood will 
distract my thoughts from the horrors to come!"

Alas, despite Sid's diligent application to Frilbo's penis, his 
tongue tugging at the ring about the glans and his tonsils 
brushing against it when the cock was deep inside his 
mouth, this was not distraction enough for Frilbo's 
thoughts. Even as he ejaculated, semen splattering over 
Sid's mouth and nose, catching his eyelids and frothing on 
his tongue, his thoughts were less on the pleasuring he was 
receiving as it was on his absence from the Vernal Festival 
and his fear of the haemorrhoids of iniquity.

He smiled at Sid, unable to hide the sorrow that lingered, 
even as his faithful servant knelt by so lovingly, a trail of 
semen over his face, entangled even in his eyebrow and 
eyelashes, and dripping down from his nose and lower lip 
onto his chin and thence onto the coarse red hairs of his 
hirsute chest. He bent forward to kiss Sid on the mouth and 
as his servant reciprocated, and the two chums' tongues 
became sloppily and salvatingly entwined, his penis once 
again stirring, no doubt ready to plunge anew, it was now 
that, with his physical passion asserting itself once again, 
he recalled why it was he had been so neglectful of his 
chums before.

"Nay, sweet Sid. My love for you be too great! Were only 
it less! But when I see your derriere, so hairy and tempting, 
I fear I cannot check my lust. And then I might fuck you up 
the arse, with the accursed ring on my cock's end, and the 
evil which should be returned to the rectum from which it 
emerged will instead be buried inside you."

Sid pushed himself off his master, a trail of semen attached 
to his mouth and chin, hanging like a drawbridge between 
him and Frilbo's nose. He grinned foolishly and brushed 
away the viscous trail with the back of his hand, regarding 
it before rubbing it off on his arm and hip. 

"I wonder much, master, why it is that when the ring was 
in the possession of your uncle, Tesco, and, before that, in 
the care of the vile changeling, Grobble, that it seemed not 
as foul a thing as it does now. It served your uncle well as 
he fucked the great ogres, whose arses are as wide as an 
open door, and so charmed the Guardian of the Mizzle 
Lampshade that he spared the life of poor Grumbleguts."

"Those were different times, Sid, as well you know. As 
Waldorf and I have explained to you for many hours, with 
digression upon digression, delving deep into the history of 
wondrous things, of distant forgotten battles and strangely 
garbled AngloSaxon neologisms, of boats, and dragons, 
and ceiling wax, of cabbages and things, this is a 
mysterious dark timeless struggle in which the fortunes of 
Middle Thwaite and all the world bound by the zephyrs 
and the great tree Yggdrasil are but a small insignificant 
thing. It is a struggle, boundless, mysterious, dark and 
sempiternal, that can only be resolved by an act of anal 
intercourse within the caverns and under the shadows of 
the flames of the dread dismal Realm of Dark Thunder."

Sid nodded. "I know that, sire. 'Tis a struggle even to 
understand this struggle. But I know now, as I consider the 
orcs, ogres, goblins, gremlins and werewolves of our 
journey, that many evils have been brought into the world. 
And if you can banish all this vileness by the penetration of 
a dangleberry-festooned arse, then this quest must be worth 
the making."

"Thank you, Sid. But I see you are desirous of more carnal 
fun. Return to Niblet and Jollity, as they are surely in need 
of more spice in their frolics. Their arses are welcoming 
and your cock is upright and ready."

Sid nodded. "Thank you, sire. It is a shame indeed that you 
are unable to join in our cavorting. But we shall all be 
eager to rim your arse this eventime should you so 
require."

"I will that, Sid. My arse needs a fair rogering. But away, 
Sid! My desire for you may yet become too great!"

Although Sid's delight at returning to the fleshy fray was 
apparent, and should have given his master much cause to 
celebrate, Frilbo was too melancholy for that. He sighed 
again and no longer taking pleasure in the sight of his three 
chums' anal romps, he raised himself up off the rock on 
which his bare arse had rested, and wandered off. 

As he ascended the pastures, the urgent sound of his 
chums' lovemaking becoming less distinct, he attempted to 
distract his mind and his all too easily aroused penis from 
thoughts of sex or anal intercourse. Little dunnocks 
fluttered through the bushes. Hare and cony frolicked in the 
long grass. A doe cantered by over the ridge of a nearby 
hill. Frilbo was soon out of sight of his companions, 
hidden as they were by the dips of the meadows and 
shrubby foliage, and he sat on a boulder that looked out 
beyond towards the Micklerum Hills, where many 
countless leagues further would tower the great ridge of the 
Crackwhore Crags which enclosed the Dark Realms. 

It was difficult to believe that such horrors could exist, 
thought Frilbo, as he stretched his legs ahead of him, his 
penis and its attendant ring lolling against his inner thighs. 
Even though he had seen, even smelt, the Inclement 
Horsemen, who carried with them an evil, foul odour, 
much like that of mould on a towel left damp and 
neglected, or, even, a thunderbox left unattended after a 
large oriental dinner washed down with amber ale. 

Frilbo shuddered. He had been told that the Inclement 
Horsemen would dearly love to fuck him up the arse, but 
most of all for him to fuck theirs'. This act of sexual 
congress, the Great Wizard Waldorf explained, would be 
sufficient for all base foulness and evil in the Dismal 
Realm to be unleashed upon the world. And although 
Waldorf had not been too precise as to how this 
wickedness might be manifest, he knew that the innocent 
joys of Middle Thwaite, such as the Festival of Buggery, 
the Rite of Fellatio and the Passage of Fertility, these 
would all be banned and a time of dreariness and 
despondency would descend upon all good folk.

As these morbid thoughts passed through Frilbo's mind, it 
was at this moment that he saw a sight that once again 
restored his belief in the bounteousness and goodness of 
the world. For there, striding towards him, naked and 
upright, was the most beautiful youth that Frilbo had ever 
seen. He was manly of chest, prominent of jaw, handsome 
of gait, delightful of face and virile of member. Only 
Frilbo's own ring-enhanced penis matched the splendour of 
that which swung between the thighs of this handsome 
fellow, whose beauty was such that Frilbo's penis 
immediately attained a stiff, unbending, almost painful, 
erectness.

"Who be you, sweet youth?" asked Frilbo, as the fellow 
approached nigh.

"I am but a goatherd in pursuit of my capricious flock. 
Have you perchance espied them, dear sir?"

Frilbo was sure that he'd never before heard a goatherd use 
such a polysyllabic vernacular, but out here in the distant 
Pugglemoor Meadows the natives might speak in a more 
convoluted dialect than they did in Middle Thwaite. He 
smiled at the naked youth, aware that his desire for the 
flesh was revealed rather too obviously by his throbbing 
member.

"I have seen not one goat, let alone a flock, sweet youth. 
You have surely lost them in some other part of the moor."

"'Tis possible," admitted the goatherd. "I was tempted by 
the flesh of my uncle to a moment of sweaty swiving, and 
when we were sated my flock had gone! But you are a 
handsome fellow, dear sir. May I feast upon your cock?"

"Indeed you may," said Frilbo who was nothing loathe of 
the opportunity of a fair boy's lips upon his penis. 

"Goodness be!" exclaimed the youth, who crouched down 
in front of Frilbo, taking his penis in the palm of a hand, 
whilst his other stroked Frilbo's inner thigh, stirring the 
hairs to unnatural tenderness. "This is a most proud 
member! I am most desirous to know it better."

With that the goatherd tilted the penis towards his mouth 
and moved his head up and down on its monstrous girth, 
the mouth puckered, and the cheeks sucked in, as his head 
moved up and down, up and down, his tongue, teeth and 
lips pulling the penis towards a more and more painful and 
strenuous erection. Frilbo gazed down at his unexpected 
lover, while struggling to remove the tunic which seemed 
so inappropriate to the desire for coupling that so filled his 
breast.

The practised skill at sodomy that Frilbo enjoyed so often 
was all that forestalled his penis from exploding into a 
mess of semen, restraining himself enough that he was able 
to turn around, proffering his anus, a widened aperture 
from daily penetration, for the youth to take with his huge 
erect member, one surely larger even than that of the Great 
Wizard Waldorf, whose greatness was testified not only by 
his majesty nor by his magic incantations. And as Frilbo 
bent down on the grass, his nose buried in the daisies and 
meadow grasses, his elbows crushing the insects that 
scampered within the greenness, and his knees digging into 
the soil, behind him the goatherd was thrusting urgently 
and expertly into Frilbo's anus, a hand cupping his testicles 
and the other jerking his penis with slow, measured strokes 
that kept it erect but did not bring it to a premature 
ejaculation.

Frilbo was besotted. Never before had anyone fucked him 
with such a huge penis, except the great wizard, and even 
he, possessed of such great power and potency, was not a 
fucker of the same subtlety or skill as this talented 
goatherd. Perhaps this quest would be one well worth the 
journeying he thought as he relished the long slow thrusts 
behind him.

"This is such a handsome cock!" exclaimed the goatherd, 
tenderly fingering the glans, the nail just touching the ring. 
"I would so love for you to thrust it in my arse."

"But that I cannot do!" protested Frilbo. "I am on a great 
quest and my penis is not to penetrate any arse, nor indeed 
any other nether orifice, until my quest reaches its climax."

"But climax is exactly what you wish to achieve," said the 
goatherd, still thrusting into Frilbo's anus, but gripping his 
penis quite tightly.

"But that is the peril. I must not ejaculate inside any orifice 
while possessed of the ring. For if I do, great evil and 
damnation will be unleashed onto the world."

"What balderdash!" scoffed the goatherd. "And anyhow a 
man of your practise and skill in the art of buggery could 
surely restrain yourself from ejaculating. Come, sire, my 
arse awaits. Please take it! Please take me now!"

Frilbo was truly spellbound by the goatherd, and let 
himself be coaxed by the youth's tender touches, sweet 
kisses and urgent thrusts into a position behind the 
goatherd's anus. And here indeed was a sweet anus, tight 
without being too tight, puckered without being vise-like, 
embedded between two manly buttocks, muscular and 
firm, inviting and open. And then, for the first time since 
Waldorf had threaded the ring through his glans and Frilbo 
announced to the villagers of Bumbleberry Marsh that he 
would leave the creature comforts of ale and manly 
company for the tribulations of distant lands, the 
diminutive youth with the excessive member took it upon 
himself to plunge it within the goatherd's anus. And he 
thrust back and forth, his penis stiff and urgent, the semen 
inside him stirring in his testicles and ready to erupt inside 
the goatherd's rectum.

And then, just before he was about to ejaculate, he was 
forcefully pulled off the goatherd, roughly thrown 
backward onto the grass, and only then, his penis no longer 
inside an orifice, did it spurt and secrete its precious 
viscous fluid. He was so dazed by the abruptness of this, 
and still so drunken with passion, that he was only partly 
aware that the goatherd that he had, just a moment before, 
been fucking with such urgent and delightful passion, was 
being sliced into a bloody pulp by the diamond-sharp blade 
of a large sword in the grip of a man taller and more 
muscular than any Frilbo had ever seen before.

There wasn't a great deal left of the goatherd after the 
swordsman had sliced away at him. The head was severed 
and lay in the grass, blood spurting from its neck and the 
tongue sticking through the teeth and lips. The decapitated 
torso had lost all four limbs, also left about in the grass, 
and the body itself striped with deep gashes from the 
fearsome blade.

"Who are you? And why have you slain my lover?" cried 
Frilbo angrily. And then, more in fear: "And do you wish 
also to slay me?"

The murderer stood above him, wiping his bloody blade on 
a cloth, dressed in leather and steel from his buckled boots 
to the huge hat upon his head, from which a feather 
flopped over his eyes. He looked down at Frilbo, his eyes 
hidden by the shadow of his hat, but the gleam of his white 
teeth visible and clearly in the shape of a smile.

"Worry not, Frilbo. For Frilbo is your name, that I know. I 
am Spunker, a knight of the Kingdom of Lycra, who has 
come many a league in pursuit of you. But not to wish you 
harm, but to guide and guard you. I have been sent on this 
mission by one we both know well: Waldorf the Mauve. 
He has entrusted me with this mission, knowing that the 
future of all space, time and the quantum fluctuation rely 
on you buggering the vile Duke of Dismalness."

"Spunker?" asked Frilbo. "I have heard Waldorf mention 
your name. And you have come not a moment too soon. I 
was fair on the point of releasing myself inside this 
mischievous being that came to me in such alluring form. 
Surely he is just a foul demon who has disguised himself to 
tempt me."

"Actually no," said Spunker. "He is genuinely a goatherd; 
although he was once a scholar in the great College of 
Crinklegate. He is a great and expert fucker and really 
didn't deserve to be slaughtered by me at all. But the 
urgency of the situation was so great and my enthusiasm 
for slaughter (in a worthwhile cause) so considerable, that I 
took it on myself to really let go. However, had you 
released your sperm inside him, then all the universe would 
have unravelled, the planets would have ricocheted, quarks 
would have imploded and an era of discontent and 
dreariness would have descended upon the world. So, my 
action has, indeed, saved the day, and that of future 
generations."

"I thank you then for your brave and courageous action!" 
said Frilbo, shaking Spunker by the hand. "Are you to 
accompany my chums and me on our quest?"

"Indeed I shall," said Spunker, with a jovial chuckle. "And 
I shall explain to you in great discursive detail, with many 
footnotes and romantic nonsense, what great history and 
what foul battles justify my presence and also what great 
misery and sadness I carry with me. But first, little one, I 
have heard from the Great Wizard Waldorf that you have 
three fine companions who are most worthy fuck 
companions!"

"Indeed I have!" laughed Frilbo. "And soon you shall have 
the pleasure of meeting them and getting to know them 
both as fine fellows for the imbibing of ale but also for the 
pleasures of fleshly satisfaction."

"That is a pleasure which, being more than two days since I 
last fucked a man, in the tavern at Lower Gringlewich, I 
look forward with great glee!" announced Spunker, 
clutching his genitals beneath his britches with a gloved 
hand, while sheathing his blade.

And so it was that Frilbo and Spunker joined Niblet, Sid 
and Jollity for several hours of fun, frolicking and fucking, 
leaving behind the goatherd's body in several pieces, to 
attract flies, vultures and wolves. And fortunate it was too 
that not one drop of seed was spilt inside his anus, but was 
lost instead on the grassy meadow, for great tragedy 
otherwise would have come from this act and many 
thousands of pages of dense print and heroic sex and epic 
battles would not have been written. 

And the fabric of the universe did in truth remain intact. 








