Stumbling up the unforgiving slopes of Emyn Muil, I panted harshly against the jagged rocks, knees and arms embedded with cuts and shards of stone.

I gazed upon the fiery horizon; the ominous black mountains of Mordor seemed to sneer back at me. Mount Doom erupted violently, reminding me of how sexually frustrated I had been all throughout this never-ending journey.

"It sure seems like a long time since I was last in Brandybuck, with Dylan giving me one of his soothing massages. I'd give anything for him to be here with me", I exhaled. The ledge I was perched on was flatter than the rest of the mountain, signs of weathering from the perilous climate this high up. It would do for tonight.

Knees cracking from exhaustion as I laid my worn exterior down, I began to lather my legs with the lembas oil the Lothlorien Elves had bestowed upon me. It helped ease the aching pains, and acted as an astoundingly excellent lubricant... not that they would ever know.

With the day's climb catching up to me, I eventually reclined into a fitful slumber. However, I was awoken quite suddenly by sounds coming from above. Using the dregs of moonlight shining upon the mountainside, my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness.

I peered cautiously up above my camp, and fell back in fright. A taut, scantily-dressed silhouette was muttering to itself a fair distance away, fishing for a meal in a murky lake with its bony, wizened hands. I clamped a hand over my mouth, but as I stepped back my foot knocked a pile of rocks from the ledge.

I sighed in despair as they smashed and clattered down the mountain, making enough noise to wake a Balrog. Fearfully sneaking a glance back over the top of the cliff, I noticed with heart-pounding clarity that the figure had vanished; small ripples still cascading across the lake before it fell deathly still.

Before I could gather my things, I was knocked to the ground by a wet mass of snarling claws and beady, yearning eyes.

My assailant croaked rhythmically against my ear, "What's this, precious? Another lonely traveller for Sméagol to have his way with? Oh yes, precious, oh yes... Gollum... Gollum!" It started to sing joyously, still holding me down but rocking back and forth against my increasingly stiff form.

"Please, I mean you no trouble, just let me be on my way" I managed to squeak out, my voice frail and weak with fear and desperation. This... Sméagol, or Gollum, was too strong for me to move, it had me kept firmly in place.

"Let you go? Oh no, precious, no no no no no. That wouldn't do at all. You have to pay me to pass this land". The creature said.

"I-I have coin, Elven coin. Please take what you want, but don't hurt me". I replied, realising I might still have a way out of this.

At the mention of Elves, the creature visibly flinched, and a repulsed look adorned its scrunched up face. "No! ...Gollum, Gollum. It burns, precious, Elvish things are stinky and foul and hurt poor Sméagol".

"Then what do you want so that I may pass" I questioned, anxiety worming its way back into my chest.

"We wants something a little more... intimate" Sméagol/Gollum whispered into my ear, before sliding its tongue down my eardrum, and cleaning the pathway out vivaciously. My eyes widened in trepidation as it reached to the little cloth covering its crotch, before hungrily ripping it off and revealing a fully erect, throbbing, eager phallus.

I writhed in paroxysms of fear, but found my mouth suddenly stuffed close with the creature's grimy cloth. Where was Gandalf when you needed him?