The Lord of the Rings:

One Twink to Rule Them All

Chapter 1 – Mad About the Hobbit

The toes have changed.

I see them in the shower.

I feel them in his sleep.

I smell their stinkiness.

Much that once stank, still does.

For none that smell them live much longer.

A spherical, glass ornate globe stood proudly, with a hint of suspicion and intrigue, upon three metal towers, which suspending it in the air, anchoring it like it may escape. Skeletal fingers hovered over the reflective orb; aged eyes narrowed obsessively, unblinking, before their master's lips, which looked like they'd lived their whole life resisting the powerful urges of blowjobs toward Hobbits, spoke.

"Palantir of mine, show me the cutest person in Middle Earth." The White Wizard ordered the orb, but with friendly undertones, like they were almost on second base.

The ball went silent and dark, like it was charging up a powerful attack; then it shone, projecting a tall screen on the walls of the Tower of Isengard. It took a moment for the wizard's eyes to focus on what was now being broadcasted against the sides of his personal domain. With a gasp, he saw himself on the screen; he was wearing a slutty outfit – a white G-string and a bra to cover his burger nips. His feet were bare, the white hairs sprouting from his big toes visible.

The real Saruman felt horny – hornier than usual – which he thought to be impossible; he believed himself to be at the absolute peak of horniness years ago, when he'd put a secret camera on Gandalf's staff so that when he showered with the hobbits, which he always did after one of their gay celebrations, he'd be accidentally recording footage which beamed directly to Saruman's wank bank. But alas, here he was, feeling even hornier that that. He was still coming down from seeing all those small hobbit willies, but this… His… Precious Palantir thought of him as being the cutest being in Middle Earth…

He had to lay down.

As Saruman's wizard-robe-covered bonse contacted his Simba mattress, his eyes were still fixed upon the moving images on his stiffy-inducing walls. His sexy twin began pole dancing on a pole that looked just like Barad-dûr; the glowing eye on top was his goal; his climbed the metal tube, slipping a little as it was already coated in The Bright Lord's spunk, and went upside-down, his legs stuck outwardly like a letter Y. Slowly and with squelching, he enveloped the Eye of Sauron into his butthole; inch by inch, he moaned and bled a little, which he hoped to God was normal. After one long, final centimetre, The Eye of Sauron got shitty real quick. Saruman's hands were white with cum as he furiously masturbated his wizard meat, like he was choking Gandalf.

The screen then ended its porn show.

Saruman jizzed onto his Simba mattress – it also went all over his robes and beard.

The Eye of Sauron then appeared within the Palantir, along with a telephone ringing kind of noise. Saruman scrambled to make himself presentable and look like he'd been busy all morning. Pale fingers scrolled across the Palantir, like an iPhone lock screen and answered his secret master's call.

"My master… What need do you have of me?" He spoke like a little bitch, because that's exactly what he was for the Dark Lord – a little bitch.

Sauron whispered quietly and in some dialect the audience wasn't supposed to understand. It sounded a little like when Kim thought GG was sucking a big, black cock.

"With his connections to the Hobbits, I'm going to see if I can recruit Gandalf the Gay to our cause." Saruman suggesting, hoping Sauron wouldn't work out his ulterior motive of getting his dick wet with Hobbit juices.

"What do you mean what have Hobbits got to do with anything?" He asked, his heart quickening as he felt himself become closer to being discovered, like Tom Cruise acting as Claus Von Stauffenberg in the film Valkyrie.

"I think they're cute- I mean, I've heard they have the one twink to rule them all." Saruman bullshitted. He thought he'd given the game away for a second, but the Eye of Sauron was in the bath listening to Dr Who on audiotape, so he wasn't really listening to Saruman all that closely anyway.

Suddenly, the Eye of Sauron's interest was piqued, and he paused Revenge of the Daleks. He inquired further toward the subject of this fabled Twink.

"It's just like your ring, but much better." Saruman lied further. The Japseye of Sauron stung a little with the bubble bath then he grunted in affirmation.

"So, I have your permission to pursue this matter?" The White Wizard felt his penis hardening, just at the mere thought of Hobbit feet and Hobbit toes.

"Thank you, my dark lord." He was ready to end the call when he heard a squidgy sound on the other end and then a sordid request from his Dark Lord master.

"There's one thing you need me to do first. What is it?" Sweating like bitch, Saruman's balls stuck to his leg, nervously foreseeing loads of spunk.

"Well, okay; but only because it's you asking." His erection answered the question, for that had overtaken his mind completely at this point.

Saruman turned the Palantir's front camera on, then turned his back on it before aggressively shaking his head around like the Heanor Headbanging Crew. His wizard hair was getting messed-up, but Sauron was into rough and ready concubines anyway. With one swift movement, the White Wizard pulled his robes off, leaving himself dressed in only his wizard Y-fronts and big, black socks.

Nipple coverings, garnished with the Eye of Sauron's image, hid Saruman's burgers away like a jammy bitch.

Saruman then placed both his old, rough feet on the lens, whipping his socks off as a predator would, spreading his toes like a cunt expecting a massive cock. Sauron made a flamy, licking noise, which fogged up his screen a little. Saruman's toes then became sweaty. One of them stinks. The Dark Lord used his new smellevision and took in a good waft. The smell alone made him spunk. Saruman then pulled his little pants off, revealing his veiny, thick, circumcised dick. White pubes adorned the base and ballsack, like a king's crown. There was a spunk overload on Sauron's end and the call finished like it, itself spunked, too.

"We need only to fuck those who oppose us." Saruman recited his personal quote as he, too tried to climax. But now that his master wasn't watching, this reduced the horniess level of his boner by, at least, 12%. And in terms of spunk, that's twenty gallons for the White Wizard.

Saruman got bored and decided to get fully dressed again.

"Saruman the White." With the haste of one hundred and twelve gerbils, Saruman quickly hid the Palantir all its horny energy with a special cloak, which looked like it was made of expensive silk – or spunk.

The White Wizard exited his bedroom and entered the meeting hall.

Gandalf the Grey stood like an old friend, smiling toward his senior.

"I couldn't resist your invitation to dinner. I couldn't understand why you requested it, but I brought along a hobbit with me." With the mention of his species, a short, slim figure stepped from behind Gandalf, reaching the old wizard's pelvis in height.

"Perfect height for sucking my Tower of Isengard cock." Saruman accidentally said this aloud.

"What was that?" Gandalf asked naively to his good friend.

"I said… Erm… I'll have to show you around my Tower of Isengard, young hobbit." The halfling was still partly covered by Gandalf's cape in the nervousness and shyness of meeting someone new.

"Come now." Saruman smiled beautifully, with his hand outstretched in a friendly manner toward the hobbit.

"Pippin, it's okay." Gandalf nodded at the hesitating halfling, who held his leg timidly.

Pippin gulped and began to approach Saruman, his bare feet slapping softly on the reflective, pearly tiles of Isengard Tower. Saruman placed a comforting hand on the halfing's mess of hair and pointed toward his kitchen which was brimming with freshly prepared, delicious food. "Help yourself, Pippin. I just need a word with Gandalf, then we'll join you." He said, watching the Hobbit become excited and rushing to eat the treats.

As Saruman was distracted by Pippin's feet, Gandalf had approached the Palantir taken its cloak off. He hesitantly touched it, then saw a river of spunk leading to the very japseye or japsye but I like to call it japseye, of Sauron. Feeling his penis shrivel, Gandalf quickly replaced the sheet and turned around to return to the meeting hall.

"Find anything interesting?" Saruman was stood there; he'd seen the whole thing.

"I…" Gandalf tried to speak, like crusty sheets.

"You've always wanted my Palantir, Gandalf. Join us, and I'll make sure you have your own." This offer and the burning hot japseye of Sauron put Gandalf on the defensive, and he readied his staff, which was hidden next to his third leg.

"Who is this "us" you speak of?" Gandalf asked, but he was a truly shit actress, like Cassandra from Only Fools and Horses.

"You now know I serve the Japseye of Sauron." Somehow a chorus of voices began singing Sauron's main theme.

Gandalf raised his staff, but Saruman flew toward him and smacked him like a bitch, with his white wizard balls against Gandalf's grey balls. He groaned in pain.

"Let's get these off, shall we?" Saruman cast a stripping naked spell against Gandalf, and his attire became clothless. His feet were just about as disgusting as Saruman's, and his bonse was weaker and less sexy than the superior wizard's.

"You have elected the way of stiffy!" Saruman commanded his magic once again, making Gandalf's small penis spin around like a kaleidoscope. As it span, reaching mach 50, blood was forcefully fed to the tiny chode, and it engorged painfully. The White Wizard then made Gandalf's entire body spin off the ground and in mid-air.

Saruman lay back down on his Simba mattress, getting naked himself; the mattress was still spunky from his earlier sexual episode, so felt damp under his asshole. Invisibly, he pulled the strings and the spinning Gandalf whizzed down onto his waiting, massive monster of an erect cock. The grey wizard gasped as it entered him, balls-deep, without wizard lube, and continued spinning like a mad cow.

Feeling his blue balls burst and explode like sidewinder missiles, Saruman unleashed his truckload of jizz inside Gandalf's bussy, which propelled him up through the ceiling of his bedroom, and, somehow, on top of the Tower of Isengard.

After composing himself, Saruman got dressed and made his way down to the kitchen, to check on his little hobbit guest.

Pippin was sat at the dinner table, which resembled a long picnic bench but a posh one. He scoffed his face hungrily with all manner of delicious foodstuffs, while swinging his small feet. Sensing he was being watched, the halfling looked up sheepishly, his youthful eyes meeting Saruman's weathered ones and his bare feet became guiltily still.

"Oh, I'm sorry… It all just looked so tasty." Pippin excused his bad table manners politely, wiping his hands on his hobbit trousers, which were covered in jam from a nearby tart.

"Nonsense. I made this food for you, my guest; I'm happy you are enjoying it. Gandalf has left for an urgent meeting at Rivendell, but you're more than welcome to stay here until he returns." Saruman thought he would feel more lustful when he finally met a hobbit and had one here in his kitchen. Maybe it was due to his several orgasms already that day, but he felt endearment for Pippin, in the place of lust. Like when King Kong first saw Ann Darrow, Saruman was smitten.

The halfling smiled. "You're awfully nice, Mr. Saruman, sir. I don't want to impose, though, Mr. Saruman, Sir." Even this form of address, like he was addressing a daddy, didn't make Saruman's penis harden at all. Maybe this was what the White Wizard had been searching for his entire, loveless life. He had always been crying on the outside and laughing on the inside, or was it the other way around? All those twinks that had come before; all those Grindr hook-ups… Maybe they were all a prelude to meeting this little halfling.

Maybe this was the love of his life.

Pippin.

If you like Hobbit feet, please read and review.

If you don't, then read and review and look at Hobbit feet a lot when you're next horny.

Trust me, you will come to love them.

Just ask Sigmund Freud.

Bonse and a japseye.