Petunia Dursley hated Halloween. She detested it with creamy fervor. Children dressing up in hideously inappropriate costumes, invading her personal space, and begging for sweets she could be giving to Dudley, were all things she abhored with ever fiber of her uptight, asshole body. The holiday also glamorized her sister's disability, teaching children that it was okay to have... certain problems. Encouraged, even. Petunia wondered when this would all end and when people would realize that those people deserved to be locked up somewhere. A castle, perhaps.
Petunia finished washing and drying the dishes like a good housewife. She brought a plate of cookies to Vernon, who was in the living room, melted fatly over the sofa, watching news about rape and murder, and munching on potato chips, or crisps, as they say in British. The impeccably styled living room closely resembled the inside of a rhinoceros's stomach, and watching Dudley leave the living room was like watching a rhinoceros give birth.
Dudley was out, cavorting with his retard punch-buddies, probably stealing candy from young, unaccompanied children, or raping mothers, or perhaps grabbing the bowel movements from the geriatrics amongst the streets. Such a nice boy.
There was a knock at the door. Petunia scowled, which was really just an emphasis on her permanent facial expression, and walked to the door, foghorn in hand. Tearing open the door with the energy of a rice cake, Petunia stared at the impossibly short young man before her. He looked like an adult, but he was not even the size of a child! The Dursleys had no patience for any abnormalities. The gentleman must have done something horrible in a past life to deserve being punished in such a way by Our Christian God. Petunia felt the urge to bite him with her long, screw-like teeth. She kept her mouth closed, and stared at the revoltingly unwashed man-boy before her.
"Hello, ma'am" he started, moving towards her. Petunia shrieked.
"We don't give out candy here, you freak! Get your short, ugly, hairy, stinky, dirty, filthy, slutty ass off my motherfucking goddamn piss cock porch!" she gasped for breath after such a tirade.
His burlap cape flapped menacingly. Petunia didn't care; she'd had to explain to a doctor how her son had obtained a pigtail on his ass without problem; surely she could kick a dwarf off her patio with no effort. She began to shut the door in his small, adult face.
"Wait!" he stuck his large, hairy, filth-covered, garbage-ridden foot between the door and the doorway so she couldn't shut the door. Petunia vomitted indignantly.
"I'm here for a reason. And NOT to trick-or-treat... bitch." He explained.He pushed her back into her own living room, where her husband had passed out from the amount of food he had consumed. Petunia whimpered like a crippled baby gazelle in the mouth of a hungry, rabid, horny, mentally deficient alligator with a sprained ankle.
"I come from the land down under. It is filled with magnificent creatures and walking, talking trees, and big scary volcanos, and weird ghost-men on horses who want to kill people with their evil sticks. It is called Middle Earth; I come here to fetch you for my purposes." He explained matter-of-factly. Petunia noticed the growing bulge in his burlap yoga trousers with both apprehension and glee, and revulsion.
Petunia began to stutter and shake her head in protest, her eyes still glued to the small man's disproportionately gigantic cockbulge. She felt her wet, grey, dangling, meaty pussy lips wobble between her stick-like thighs, smacking them like the beat of a pygmy-beaten drum. "My name is Frodo, by the way." He added as he gently penetrated her meat-hole with his finger, raising her skirt and pushing aside her brown-and-pink-striped panties. Her saggy old woman-tits waved in the gentle breeze he was creating with his ass. She moaned lightly and they were magically transported to Middle Earth. Vernon was, too. And so was Dudley. Magically.
A dragon beat its wings overhead as it beat off with its talons. The lush greenery surrounding them was obviously from a different climate zone than England, and as mythical creatures, like horses and wizards, passed them every two seconds, they knew they weren't in Kansas, Surrey anymore.
Frodo flung his ankles over Petunia's brawny man-shoulders and kicked in delight with his tiny baby-feet. His sweaty, dangling, meatballs rubbed up against Petunia's sweet, white neck, creating a hot, nasty, smelly friction, igniting his pubic nest on terrible, terrible fire. Vernon and Dudley awoke, shocked at being transported so suddenly and so magically to such a foreign land.
"Where the fuck are we?" said Dudley fatly.
"Yeah, Petunia, and what are you doing with that grade schooler humping your sweet, white neck?" Vernon asked corpulently.
The carnal flame roared on. Petunia, so enraptured in her boy-man-boy, could hardly hear her husband and son screaming for her attention. She only knew the exquisite pleasure she was experiencing at the balled-up fists of the man-boy-man in her neck-cunt.
"Is this middle earth?" exclaimed Dudley, lard spewing from his slovenly piggy pink lips. "I saw a movie about this shit!"
All of a sudden, a huge centaur running at a 80 mph gallop ran over Dudley's hulking form, crushing every single bone in his body, incuding those three weird ones in the ear that have funny names. Vernon screamed in horror.
"My son! My progeny! My heir! My everything!" he cried, collapsing onto the floor like a wild boar in heat. His dick shrivelled pathetically, his balls retreating into the warmth of his abdominal cavity.
A unicorn then ran over Vernon's corpulent, creamy body, smashing in his skull, squishing out his eyeballs, and then popping them. He died.
Petunia was too busy being neck-pleasured by this creepy pint-sized human to care about her quickly disappearing family. She was snapped out of her freakish revery when she noticed a hundred-foot-tall tree with a face and a dangling oaken fetus-feeler between its leg-like roots walking towards her. She shrieked in terror, like a girl skunk having sex with a boy skunk.
The ent approached her, getting on its wobbly, knobby knees and angling its hanging dangling doggy cock for the proper penetration of Petunia's peachy puckerers. More turned on than she'd ever been in her life, Petunia clamped her snake-like jaw around the wooden tree-woody, thirsty for some raw maple sap.
There was a lot of in and outs and bumping and grinding and doing the hanky panky, but eventually, Frodo and the ent Elizabeth ended cumming all over Petunia's virgin mouth and hair-do. Petunia was left desperate for oxygen, splinters literring her tender juicy steak-mouth.
Frodo climbed down from Petunia's stilt-neck, cock still dangling and dripping between his midget thighs. "Welcome to Middle Earth, Petunia."