Necessary Measures (Gen) NC-17
Title: Necessary Measures
Author: Moit
Summary: When Frodo becomes the first pregnant male hobbit in the history of Minas Tirith, Aragorn takes it upon himself to be Frodo's personal care-taker.
Characters: Frodo, Aragorn
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: implied Yaoi/Slash, graphic medical content, use of medical instruments, mpreg, hermaphrodite
Challenge: Kink Bingo 2010, Medical Kink
Beta: kyliemou
Author's Note: This is for lilybaggins. Lily feeds my muse like it's her job.
Frodo shivered, both from nerves and from the chill in the room. As the first pregnant hobbit (and first pregnant male) in Minas Tirith, King Elessar had made it his personal responsibility to oversee the hobbit’s pregnancy, despite Frodo’s insistence that he would be fine. Naturally, that attitude made Aragorn even more suspicious and he insisted Frodo stay in the City for the duration of his pregnancy. The strain of travelling so far back to the Shire would be difficult in his condition, anyway.
Aragorn’s persistence (how could Frodo disobey the King?) was the reason Frodo found himself dressed only in his underpants on a cold steel table in the Houses of Healing. The nurse had led him there what seemed to be ages ago. What made matters worse was that he had begun to develop breasts-breasts!-and felt more than just exposed.
Just then, the door opened and Aragorn entered, looking much more like one of the Healers than the King of Minas Tirith. Over his white shirt and leggings, he wore a crisp white jacket like the other Healers. Presently, his eyes were on the parchment in his hand.
Frodo felt the knot in his stomach grow to infinite proportions.
Finally, Aragorn looked up. “Frodo!” he said, as though noticing the hobbit for the first time. His grey eyes were kind, but they did nothing to calm Frodo’s nerves. Frodo also noticed the way they flicked downward over his budding breasts.
Self-consciously, Frodo crossed his arms over his chest.
Aragorn pretended there was no tension in the room. “How are you doing today?” he asked, reaching out to shake Frodo’s hand. The action forced Frodo to take one hand away from his chest. He shook the Man’s hand as quickly as possible before returning it to his chest.
“I’d be doing better if you hadn’t left me in this icebox for an hour,” Frodo muttered.
“I apologize,” Aragorn said, handing Frodo a paper-thin sheet..
Frodo wrapped the sheet around his body, holding it beneath his armpits. He noted with dissatisfaction that it fit snugly over his growing belly.
“Has anything changed since our meeting last month? Any new symptoms?” he said the last while staring quite pointedly at Frodo’s breasts.
“Aragorn, you know very well we spoke not two days ago,” Frodo snapped, becoming more irritated by the minute.
“Frodo.” Aragorn’s tone was soft and even. “Unfortunately, I must ask you these questions during your examinations. It is my responsibility to document any new developments or symptoms, even if we have already discussed them. I know it is difficult, but please try to remember that we’ve never had someone in your condition. The documentation is of utmost importance.”
“Do you honestly think I could forget that I am the first pregnant male hobbit in recorded history?” Frodo countered.
Aragorn chuckled, patting Frodo’s knee. “Touché, my friend.” The Man pulled a stool closer to the table and took a seat.
“Let’s see here…” Aragorn shuffled through the papers in his hand. “Last time I saw you, you were about three months along. This visit would put you in month four and the beginning of your second trimester, correct?”
Frodo nodded.
“Are you still experiencing morning sickness?”
“Not very much anymore. I haven’t thrown up for about two weeks now.”
“Have you experienced any new symptoms? Fatigue? Tenderness? Pain? Anything like that?”
“My back and feet hurt if I’m standing too long. My ankles are beginning to swell, but it’s getting difficult to see them.” Frodo lifted a furry foot, peering at it over his belly.
Aragorn made some notes. “Now, I know this is going to be difficult, but I have to ask you about your breasts. Bear in mind that this is, without any doubt in my mind, completely normal for your body. This is a natural preparation to provide milk for your child after he or she is born. Do you recall when your breasts began to develop?”
“About the same time my morning sickness disappeared,” Frodo answered softly, cheeks flaming. He kept his eyes glued to his lap, unable to look Aragorn in the eyes while discussing his newly developed breasts.
“Have you been experiencing any tenderness or sensitivity?”
Frodo heaved a great sigh. “They’re very sore and my nipples have become especially sensitive. They’ve also gotten a bit darker.”
Aragorn mumbled to himself, writing these notes down. “Okay, Frodo, I need you to lie back on the table for me.”
Hesitantly, clutching the sheet over himself, Frodo laid back on the metal table. He hissed at the contact with his bare back. “Do you have to keep these rooms so cold?”
“I apologise. Next time I will make sure the room is more adequately prepared for our Child Bearer.”
Frodo groaned. “Don’t call me that. It’s bad enough that I’m still called the Ring Bearer.”
“I’ll need to lower this,” Aragorn said, gripping the edge of the sheet.
“Okay,” Frodo replied unenthusiastically, but he didn’t release the death grip he had on the sheet.
“Frodo, I’ll need you to release the sheet so I can examine you.”
“Oh.” Frodo let go of the sheet, curling his hands into fists at his sides.
“Hands behind your head, please.”
Moving his hands pulled his small breasts high and tight on his chest.
“This is the most efficient way to perform a breast examination,” Aragorn said conversationally.
“Of course it is.”
Aragorn laid one of his large hands over Frodo’s left breast. Thankfully, the hand was warm, but Frodo’s nipples were already hard little pebbles.
“What I’m doing now is checking to ensure that your breasts are developing correctly. I need to make certain there are no lumps or unusual concerns,” he said as he worked his fingertips gently from the nipple to the outside of the breast.
“Of course,” Frodo grumbled. Then lower under his breath, “because breasts on a male hobbit are not unusual in the least.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Aragorn hummed in reply. He moved to Frodo’s other breast, repeating the gentle motion of his fingertips. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Not so much. They’re just so… sore.”
Frodo felt his face go red. More than having to face the facts that he was growing-had grown-breasts, he hated talking about them. Talking about them made it real.
“Sore is completely normal when they are developing. They are also preparing for the production of milk.”
“Milk,” Frodo repeated, trying to control his racing heartbeat.
“Milk. Are you still with me, Frodo? Do you need a break?”
Frodo took a deep shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Let’s just get this over with.”
Aragorn pulled the sheet back over Frodo’s breasts. “I cannot rush through this examination, and you do not want me to. I would like to discuss the second part of the examination before we begin. Are you comfortable with that?”
“Yes,” Frodo whispered softly, despite the sound of blood rushing in his ears.
“Very well.” Aragorn shuffled through his paperwork again. “Have you experienced any more bleeding or discomfort with the birth canal?”
“A bit of cramping,” Frodo ground out.
“That’s to be expected,” Aragorn nodded, making some notes. “I’ll need to check the depth of your birth canal. Hopefully it has formed well enough to allow me to take a look at your cervix.” The Healer in Aragorn looked very excited about the prospect. Frodo, on the other hand, looked a bit green.
“Are you still with me? Do I need to explain the function of your cervix?”
“I remember,” Frodo sighed heavily.
Aragorn continued, “I’ll need to take a swab, then, if it is in fact possible to view your cervix. That will allow me to determine if everything is in correct working order. Are you ready?”
Frodo took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Excellent.”
Aragorn stood up and retrieved from the cabinet what looked like large wooden spoons.
“What are you doing with those?” Frodo asked, his eyes as round as dinner plates.
Aragorn looked down at the objects in his hands and then up at Frodo. A grin split his face.
“You haven’t seen these yet, have you?” He slid one into a groove on either side of the table. “These are stirrups, to place your feet in during the examination. They’ll also be used during the birth.”
Frodo’s shocked expression gave way to one of embarrassment.
"Before we begin, I'll need you to remove your underpants."
Keeping his eyes anywhere but on Aragorn, Frodo reached beneath the sheet and slid the cotton pants down his legs. He balanced keeping the sheet over himself, to preserve some of his modesty. Cheeks tinged pink, he tossed his underpants to the floor.
“Give me your foot,” Aragorn said, holding out his hand expectantly.
Frodo just stared at him.
“Frodo.”
Reluctantly, Frodo lifted his foot and allowed Aragorn to place it in the stirrup. He was less reluctant about the other one, but the look on his face betrayed his discomfort.
“Okay, Frodo, I need you on the end of the table.”
Frodo’s hips slid forward an inch.
“Much closer than that.”
Frodo scooted closer, but not close enough. Finally, Aragorn grabbed Frodo’s hips, pulling the hobbit to the very edge of the table so that all his bits were completely exposed.
“I cannot believe I’m letting you do this,” Frodo grumbled. His hands were knotted together over his swollen belly and his eyes were screwed shut. He looked like a man waiting for execution. The snap of Aragorn’s rubber gloves made him jump in surprise.
“It’s for your own good,” Aragorn said sternly. “Now, spread your knees.” He placed a gloved hand on each of Frodo’s knees, which were pinned together, despite the stirrups. When they remained together, Aragorn gently, but firmly, pried them apart until Frodo was left gaping in front of him. “There. Just like that. Now don’t move.”
Aragorn retrieved from the table a metal instrument that resembled a duckbill. Of the tools and implements Frodo had stared at during his long wait, this one was, by far, the most frightening. Aragorn, however, actually smiled as he held it up.
“This is my speculum. It’s what I will use to look inside you. Now, I know it’s going to be cold, but I really need you to relax. Take a deep breath.”
As Frodo inhaled deeply, Aragorn began to slide the lubricated device into the hobbit’s newly formed entrance. From a combination of fear and shock, Frodo tensed too tightly for the speculum to go any farther.
“Aragorn! What are you shoving up there? A block of ice?”
Aragorn had the audacity to laugh. “I know it’s cold, Frodo, and for that I apologise. But if you are unable to relax, then I fear we shall never finish your examination.”
Frodo sighed deeply, forcing himself to relax. “I swear I am never having sex again.”
“You may say that now but just wait until your third trimester. You may change your mind.”
“I don’t even want to know,” Frodo moaned, his voice catching on the last word as Aragorn slid the speculum the rest of the way in and opened it.
“There. Not so bad, see?” And I’ve got a clear view of your cervix. What a lovely pink cervix it is.”
“At this rate, I thought it would have grown horns,” Frodo muttered.
“Now, this,” Aragorn held up a long cotton swab, “I am going to use to take a sample of the mucus around your cervix. That will help me to determine if everything is developing as well as it seems to be. You will feel a pinch and a bit of cramping.”
The Man disappeared between Frodo’s thighs again, and almost immediately, the hobbit began to feel a cramp in a very strange place.
“Aragorn?” He asked, his voice wavering slightly.
“It’s normal, do not worry, my friend,” he said, giving the hobbit a small pat on the knee. He released the latch on the speculum and pulled the instrument out smoothly. Frodo’s birth canal made an obscene slurping noise, which caused the hobbit to turn a brilliant shade of red. Thankfully, Aragorn just chuckled good-naturedly.
“So I can go, then?” Frodo asked, lifting a foot from the stirrup.
“Almost, but not quite,” Aragorn answered as he placed his large hand over Frodo’s ankle, pressing the hairy foot gently back into the stirrup. “I just need to do a quick visual check and we’ll be finished.”
Frodo paled considerably. “You mean you’re going to look? At my bits?”
“Frodo, I just had my hand up your birth canal while looking at your cervix. Do you honestly think a visual inspection is going to make an impact at this point in time?”
Frodo laid his head back down, effectively chastised.
Aragorn began first by inspecting the soft outer folds of Frodo’s birth canal behind his bollocks. “Everything seems to be in order, except...”
“Except?” Frodo asked, tension in his voice.
“I wonder...” Aragorn murmured. He stroked a gloved finger across a small knot of skin near the top of the folds.
Frodo shrieked at the sudden bolt of pleasure and his cock was almost instantly ramrod straight.
“It seems, my most unique hobbit, that not only have you developed a birth canal, but also a clitoris.”
“A what?”
A clitoris. It’s a woman’s-”
“Iknowwhatitis!” Frodo growled between clenched teeth. “What’s it doing on me?”
“Well, that should be obvious. Clearly, it’s there because you’ve developed all the other female organs. Orgasms can also be used to strengthen the pelvic floor muscles, which are used when giving birth. It would be in your best interest, Frodo, to explore and acquaint yourself with your new body. It will only help when the time comes to deliver your babe.”
“Can we just finish? Please?” Frodo’s face couldn’t possibly get any darker shade of red. He looked like he’d spent the day in the Gondorian sun.
Aragorn gently traced his fingers around Frodo’s clitoris and down either side of his folds. Frodo groaned slightly.
“Did I hurt you?” Aragorn asked, pausing his movement.
“No,” Frodo sighed. “I’m just saying goodbye to my manhood.”
“Your manhood is still intact,” Aragorn said, his tone holding a sharp edge. “Now, I’m going to insert two fingers into your birth canal. It’s just part of the exam, so try to relax.”
Frodo tried his best, but he was still very acutely aware of the fingers inside him. Aragorn pressed gently on Frodo’s lower belly with his free hand, feeling along the planes of skin. His fingers brushed against something inside Frodo’s body that nearly made the hobbit jump off the table in surprise.
“And that is your g-spot,” Aragorn grinned widely, withdrawing his hand. “I was quite hoping you’d have one of those as well.” He pulled his gloves off, tossing them in the bin next to the table.
Frodo held up a hand. “Yes, I know what it is. No need to explain.” The look on his face clearly showed that he was more than acquainted with the g-spot, male or otherwise.
Aragorn ducked his head, long hair hiding his smile.
“May I dress now, please?” Frodo’s tone was exasperated and his legs were beginning to quiver from the strain of being laid up so long.
“Of course,” Aragorn waved, his eyes fixed once again on his parchment.
Wincing slightly, Frodo pulled his feet out of the stirrups. He closed his legs gingerly, pulling the sheet back down to cover himself. After this, he would surely never look Aragorn in the eye again.
Next part: Insult to Injury
Author: Moit
Summary: When Frodo becomes the first pregnant male hobbit in the history of Minas Tirith, Aragorn takes it upon himself to be Frodo's personal care-taker.
Characters: Frodo, Aragorn
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: implied Yaoi/Slash, graphic medical content, use of medical instruments, mpreg, hermaphrodite
Challenge: Kink Bingo 2010, Medical Kink
Beta: kyliemou
Author's Note: This is for lilybaggins. Lily feeds my muse like it's her job.
Frodo shivered, both from nerves and from the chill in the room. As the first pregnant hobbit (and first pregnant male) in Minas Tirith, King Elessar had made it his personal responsibility to oversee the hobbit’s pregnancy, despite Frodo’s insistence that he would be fine. Naturally, that attitude made Aragorn even more suspicious and he insisted Frodo stay in the City for the duration of his pregnancy. The strain of travelling so far back to the Shire would be difficult in his condition, anyway.
Aragorn’s persistence (how could Frodo disobey the King?) was the reason Frodo found himself dressed only in his underpants on a cold steel table in the Houses of Healing. The nurse had led him there what seemed to be ages ago. What made matters worse was that he had begun to develop breasts-breasts!-and felt more than just exposed.
Just then, the door opened and Aragorn entered, looking much more like one of the Healers than the King of Minas Tirith. Over his white shirt and leggings, he wore a crisp white jacket like the other Healers. Presently, his eyes were on the parchment in his hand.
Frodo felt the knot in his stomach grow to infinite proportions.
Finally, Aragorn looked up. “Frodo!” he said, as though noticing the hobbit for the first time. His grey eyes were kind, but they did nothing to calm Frodo’s nerves. Frodo also noticed the way they flicked downward over his budding breasts.
Self-consciously, Frodo crossed his arms over his chest.
Aragorn pretended there was no tension in the room. “How are you doing today?” he asked, reaching out to shake Frodo’s hand. The action forced Frodo to take one hand away from his chest. He shook the Man’s hand as quickly as possible before returning it to his chest.
“I’d be doing better if you hadn’t left me in this icebox for an hour,” Frodo muttered.
“I apologize,” Aragorn said, handing Frodo a paper-thin sheet..
Frodo wrapped the sheet around his body, holding it beneath his armpits. He noted with dissatisfaction that it fit snugly over his growing belly.
“Has anything changed since our meeting last month? Any new symptoms?” he said the last while staring quite pointedly at Frodo’s breasts.
“Aragorn, you know very well we spoke not two days ago,” Frodo snapped, becoming more irritated by the minute.
“Frodo.” Aragorn’s tone was soft and even. “Unfortunately, I must ask you these questions during your examinations. It is my responsibility to document any new developments or symptoms, even if we have already discussed them. I know it is difficult, but please try to remember that we’ve never had someone in your condition. The documentation is of utmost importance.”
“Do you honestly think I could forget that I am the first pregnant male hobbit in recorded history?” Frodo countered.
Aragorn chuckled, patting Frodo’s knee. “Touché, my friend.” The Man pulled a stool closer to the table and took a seat.
“Let’s see here…” Aragorn shuffled through the papers in his hand. “Last time I saw you, you were about three months along. This visit would put you in month four and the beginning of your second trimester, correct?”
Frodo nodded.
“Are you still experiencing morning sickness?”
“Not very much anymore. I haven’t thrown up for about two weeks now.”
“Have you experienced any new symptoms? Fatigue? Tenderness? Pain? Anything like that?”
“My back and feet hurt if I’m standing too long. My ankles are beginning to swell, but it’s getting difficult to see them.” Frodo lifted a furry foot, peering at it over his belly.
Aragorn made some notes. “Now, I know this is going to be difficult, but I have to ask you about your breasts. Bear in mind that this is, without any doubt in my mind, completely normal for your body. This is a natural preparation to provide milk for your child after he or she is born. Do you recall when your breasts began to develop?”
“About the same time my morning sickness disappeared,” Frodo answered softly, cheeks flaming. He kept his eyes glued to his lap, unable to look Aragorn in the eyes while discussing his newly developed breasts.
“Have you been experiencing any tenderness or sensitivity?”
Frodo heaved a great sigh. “They’re very sore and my nipples have become especially sensitive. They’ve also gotten a bit darker.”
Aragorn mumbled to himself, writing these notes down. “Okay, Frodo, I need you to lie back on the table for me.”
Hesitantly, clutching the sheet over himself, Frodo laid back on the metal table. He hissed at the contact with his bare back. “Do you have to keep these rooms so cold?”
“I apologise. Next time I will make sure the room is more adequately prepared for our Child Bearer.”
Frodo groaned. “Don’t call me that. It’s bad enough that I’m still called the Ring Bearer.”
“I’ll need to lower this,” Aragorn said, gripping the edge of the sheet.
“Okay,” Frodo replied unenthusiastically, but he didn’t release the death grip he had on the sheet.
“Frodo, I’ll need you to release the sheet so I can examine you.”
“Oh.” Frodo let go of the sheet, curling his hands into fists at his sides.
“Hands behind your head, please.”
Moving his hands pulled his small breasts high and tight on his chest.
“This is the most efficient way to perform a breast examination,” Aragorn said conversationally.
“Of course it is.”
Aragorn laid one of his large hands over Frodo’s left breast. Thankfully, the hand was warm, but Frodo’s nipples were already hard little pebbles.
“What I’m doing now is checking to ensure that your breasts are developing correctly. I need to make certain there are no lumps or unusual concerns,” he said as he worked his fingertips gently from the nipple to the outside of the breast.
“Of course,” Frodo grumbled. Then lower under his breath, “because breasts on a male hobbit are not unusual in the least.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Aragorn hummed in reply. He moved to Frodo’s other breast, repeating the gentle motion of his fingertips. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Not so much. They’re just so… sore.”
Frodo felt his face go red. More than having to face the facts that he was growing-had grown-breasts, he hated talking about them. Talking about them made it real.
“Sore is completely normal when they are developing. They are also preparing for the production of milk.”
“Milk,” Frodo repeated, trying to control his racing heartbeat.
“Milk. Are you still with me, Frodo? Do you need a break?”
Frodo took a deep shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Let’s just get this over with.”
Aragorn pulled the sheet back over Frodo’s breasts. “I cannot rush through this examination, and you do not want me to. I would like to discuss the second part of the examination before we begin. Are you comfortable with that?”
“Yes,” Frodo whispered softly, despite the sound of blood rushing in his ears.
“Very well.” Aragorn shuffled through his paperwork again. “Have you experienced any more bleeding or discomfort with the birth canal?”
“A bit of cramping,” Frodo ground out.
“That’s to be expected,” Aragorn nodded, making some notes. “I’ll need to check the depth of your birth canal. Hopefully it has formed well enough to allow me to take a look at your cervix.” The Healer in Aragorn looked very excited about the prospect. Frodo, on the other hand, looked a bit green.
“Are you still with me? Do I need to explain the function of your cervix?”
“I remember,” Frodo sighed heavily.
Aragorn continued, “I’ll need to take a swab, then, if it is in fact possible to view your cervix. That will allow me to determine if everything is in correct working order. Are you ready?”
Frodo took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Excellent.”
Aragorn stood up and retrieved from the cabinet what looked like large wooden spoons.
“What are you doing with those?” Frodo asked, his eyes as round as dinner plates.
Aragorn looked down at the objects in his hands and then up at Frodo. A grin split his face.
“You haven’t seen these yet, have you?” He slid one into a groove on either side of the table. “These are stirrups, to place your feet in during the examination. They’ll also be used during the birth.”
Frodo’s shocked expression gave way to one of embarrassment.
"Before we begin, I'll need you to remove your underpants."
Keeping his eyes anywhere but on Aragorn, Frodo reached beneath the sheet and slid the cotton pants down his legs. He balanced keeping the sheet over himself, to preserve some of his modesty. Cheeks tinged pink, he tossed his underpants to the floor.
“Give me your foot,” Aragorn said, holding out his hand expectantly.
Frodo just stared at him.
“Frodo.”
Reluctantly, Frodo lifted his foot and allowed Aragorn to place it in the stirrup. He was less reluctant about the other one, but the look on his face betrayed his discomfort.
“Okay, Frodo, I need you on the end of the table.”
Frodo’s hips slid forward an inch.
“Much closer than that.”
Frodo scooted closer, but not close enough. Finally, Aragorn grabbed Frodo’s hips, pulling the hobbit to the very edge of the table so that all his bits were completely exposed.
“I cannot believe I’m letting you do this,” Frodo grumbled. His hands were knotted together over his swollen belly and his eyes were screwed shut. He looked like a man waiting for execution. The snap of Aragorn’s rubber gloves made him jump in surprise.
“It’s for your own good,” Aragorn said sternly. “Now, spread your knees.” He placed a gloved hand on each of Frodo’s knees, which were pinned together, despite the stirrups. When they remained together, Aragorn gently, but firmly, pried them apart until Frodo was left gaping in front of him. “There. Just like that. Now don’t move.”
Aragorn retrieved from the table a metal instrument that resembled a duckbill. Of the tools and implements Frodo had stared at during his long wait, this one was, by far, the most frightening. Aragorn, however, actually smiled as he held it up.
“This is my speculum. It’s what I will use to look inside you. Now, I know it’s going to be cold, but I really need you to relax. Take a deep breath.”
As Frodo inhaled deeply, Aragorn began to slide the lubricated device into the hobbit’s newly formed entrance. From a combination of fear and shock, Frodo tensed too tightly for the speculum to go any farther.
“Aragorn! What are you shoving up there? A block of ice?”
Aragorn had the audacity to laugh. “I know it’s cold, Frodo, and for that I apologise. But if you are unable to relax, then I fear we shall never finish your examination.”
Frodo sighed deeply, forcing himself to relax. “I swear I am never having sex again.”
“You may say that now but just wait until your third trimester. You may change your mind.”
“I don’t even want to know,” Frodo moaned, his voice catching on the last word as Aragorn slid the speculum the rest of the way in and opened it.
“There. Not so bad, see?” And I’ve got a clear view of your cervix. What a lovely pink cervix it is.”
“At this rate, I thought it would have grown horns,” Frodo muttered.
“Now, this,” Aragorn held up a long cotton swab, “I am going to use to take a sample of the mucus around your cervix. That will help me to determine if everything is developing as well as it seems to be. You will feel a pinch and a bit of cramping.”
The Man disappeared between Frodo’s thighs again, and almost immediately, the hobbit began to feel a cramp in a very strange place.
“Aragorn?” He asked, his voice wavering slightly.
“It’s normal, do not worry, my friend,” he said, giving the hobbit a small pat on the knee. He released the latch on the speculum and pulled the instrument out smoothly. Frodo’s birth canal made an obscene slurping noise, which caused the hobbit to turn a brilliant shade of red. Thankfully, Aragorn just chuckled good-naturedly.
“So I can go, then?” Frodo asked, lifting a foot from the stirrup.
“Almost, but not quite,” Aragorn answered as he placed his large hand over Frodo’s ankle, pressing the hairy foot gently back into the stirrup. “I just need to do a quick visual check and we’ll be finished.”
Frodo paled considerably. “You mean you’re going to look? At my bits?”
“Frodo, I just had my hand up your birth canal while looking at your cervix. Do you honestly think a visual inspection is going to make an impact at this point in time?”
Frodo laid his head back down, effectively chastised.
Aragorn began first by inspecting the soft outer folds of Frodo’s birth canal behind his bollocks. “Everything seems to be in order, except...”
“Except?” Frodo asked, tension in his voice.
“I wonder...” Aragorn murmured. He stroked a gloved finger across a small knot of skin near the top of the folds.
Frodo shrieked at the sudden bolt of pleasure and his cock was almost instantly ramrod straight.
“It seems, my most unique hobbit, that not only have you developed a birth canal, but also a clitoris.”
“A what?”
A clitoris. It’s a woman’s-”
“Iknowwhatitis!” Frodo growled between clenched teeth. “What’s it doing on me?”
“Well, that should be obvious. Clearly, it’s there because you’ve developed all the other female organs. Orgasms can also be used to strengthen the pelvic floor muscles, which are used when giving birth. It would be in your best interest, Frodo, to explore and acquaint yourself with your new body. It will only help when the time comes to deliver your babe.”
“Can we just finish? Please?” Frodo’s face couldn’t possibly get any darker shade of red. He looked like he’d spent the day in the Gondorian sun.
Aragorn gently traced his fingers around Frodo’s clitoris and down either side of his folds. Frodo groaned slightly.
“Did I hurt you?” Aragorn asked, pausing his movement.
“No,” Frodo sighed. “I’m just saying goodbye to my manhood.”
“Your manhood is still intact,” Aragorn said, his tone holding a sharp edge. “Now, I’m going to insert two fingers into your birth canal. It’s just part of the exam, so try to relax.”
Frodo tried his best, but he was still very acutely aware of the fingers inside him. Aragorn pressed gently on Frodo’s lower belly with his free hand, feeling along the planes of skin. His fingers brushed against something inside Frodo’s body that nearly made the hobbit jump off the table in surprise.
“And that is your g-spot,” Aragorn grinned widely, withdrawing his hand. “I was quite hoping you’d have one of those as well.” He pulled his gloves off, tossing them in the bin next to the table.
Frodo held up a hand. “Yes, I know what it is. No need to explain.” The look on his face clearly showed that he was more than acquainted with the g-spot, male or otherwise.
Aragorn ducked his head, long hair hiding his smile.
“May I dress now, please?” Frodo’s tone was exasperated and his legs were beginning to quiver from the strain of being laid up so long.
“Of course,” Aragorn waved, his eyes fixed once again on his parchment.
Wincing slightly, Frodo pulled his feet out of the stirrups. He closed his legs gingerly, pulling the sheet back down to cover himself. After this, he would surely never look Aragorn in the eye again.
Next part: Insult to Injury