The Sex Life of Hobbits

One of the most unsavory aspects of being a teacher of English Literature is having to avoid the subject of the sex life of Hobbits. Even for the most politically correct, cis-, trans-, and whatever-gendered aware, the dark and sticky truths of the sexual appetites of the 'wee folk' (runt, in the language of Mordor) can cause the stomach to empty. It was wise of what's his name, author of the seed works (the Hobbit, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the whatever else), to remain silent as a turnip about the non human standards of inter-species sex that those Hobbits consider acceptable. Their tastes in food certainly appeals to us humans: cooked, spiced, accompanied with gravy and garnished with greens. Mmmmm. The silence about their sexual appetites speaks loudly. But Human understanding has progressed: we now celebrate as normal such abnormal practices as sodomy and bondage. The twin souled is no longer someone to be burned at the stake, but given university tenure. Now we may talk about the Hobbit and his affections, and where better to start than the love of Hobbit for Rabbit ...

Hobbits have a history of bestiality: the most common inter-species partner is the Rabbit. One would think (thinking as a Human, certainly) that the swift and cautious Bunny Rabbit would be either too fast, too wary, or just too darn small to get the lusty attention of the type of Hobbit that is looking outside his species for sexual satisfaction. Apparently, no. The Hobbits have a literature built around it: poems and sonnets that sing about the beauty of the Bunny Rabbit at the foot of the garden. We know that Hobbits are almost human in their appreciation of poetry, so their verses about the sexual attraction they feel for garden rodents can be easily pawned off as Gaia Appreciation by the high school English teacher. When a Hobbit bard sings of Bunkins, he is not being queer and drawing attention to the landing pad of sodomy, but the curvy form of a Rabbit after whom he lusts.

Sadomasochism is an aspect of the Hobbit-Rabbit romance. Their poetry sings about the pleasures of feeling the strong legs of the penetrated bunny thrash against their hairy Hobbit thighs. The nails drawing blood, the sting of pain, the warm tongue of blood and semen as it draws slowly down the leg ... all too often found in the literature of the Hobbit. Also, with a discerning eye, you can find it in the decorations that they put upon their kitchen ware. The anonymous poet of Bree sings about having his testicles mashed by a thrashing Rabbit lover. It added to his pleasure. Only recently have Human cultures evolved sufficient political correctness to both permit and appreciate such experiences.

The author of The Hobbit never speaks of whorehouses. For their places of pleasure, the common Hobbit goes to the barn. For the sophisticated Hobbit, one with property and position, they have a room of pleasure usually located beside the kitchen. The gentle affection for beasts of burden is often pointed out by teachers of English Literature as Gaia Appreciation, something to be admired and emulated. They should be aware of the effect of the editor's pen. The Hobbit barn is comfortable because it is there that the Hobbit likes to have sex with his animals. The straw is fresh, free of nettles because it is there that Hobbit takes his ease after coitus. There is clean, clear water because that is where the Hobbit washes off the sticky. And, like our modern progressive human, there are ropes and leather harnesses for bondage. Indeed, the Hobbit likes his barn dwelling sex partners to be restrained. He finds arousal in the sounds they make when they thrash and whinny. His eyes glaze with lust, his mouth drops open, and his drooling tongue appears. Such is the Hobbit, and such are the secrets revealed in the Hobbit barn. They sing poems about this.

The higher status Hobbit has a room of pleasure. It is usually found beside the kitchen ... for easier access to foodstuffs which the sexually active Hobbit favors for solitary and group activities. The discerning reader no doubt recalls the many beautiful descriptions of root vegetables and fermented cabbage dishes found in the Hobbit lexicon of poetry. Now you realize that the Hobbit savors his root vegetables for sexual stimulation as a form of marinating before cooking and consumption. Mmmmm. Carrots. Indeed, a root crop associated with Rabbits. And the Hobbit, of means and property, has his straw floored room of pleasure only steps away from his larder. One would think it a barn stall, what with the wooden partitions, decorated with barn tack of ropes and leather harnesses. A human would be considered deviant (well, until recently) to have a barn stall decor room in their dwelling. But for Hobbits, this is common, so common that they do not remark about it. Instead, they make merry there before, between, and during feasts. With food, with animals, and with each other. Just read their poetry with a critical eye.

Food sex is the pastime of the more solitary Hobbit. Not that the libido of the Hobbit changes over time: heck no, the Hobbit more resembles the Goat than the Primate. When the Hobbit finds himself without companions, he will turn to whatever forest or field creature he can get his hands on. When the rabbits, sheep, or ponies are far afield, he will find one of the larger trout to satisfy his lusts. (There is a sadomasochistic sonnet about a Hobbit who copulates with a snapping turtle, but these beautiful iambic pentameters will only appeal to those with an understanding and taste for castration epics. It is humorous, in a gallows humor sort of way) When the animal kingdom is absent, the Hobbit turns to the vegetable kingdom. A corncob, plucked from the plant, then husked, is put into service. Certain trees with strategic knot holes (by height, depth, and freedom from wasps) are celebrated spots known to the villagers. And there is the ever present garden that surrounds the Hobbit. Here, they have sex amongst the parsley.

Hobbits, they like to watch. The now acceptable perversion of voyeurism is often sung about in Hobbit poetry. The pairings and triplets of character and object are not some pastoral version of the board game of Clue. The maiden fair in the garden with her hoe ... the curly haired lad in the stable with the sheep ... the milk maid who spills the cheese curds ... these are all familiar poems to the scholar of Hobbit literature. But, through the more perfect lens of modern political correctness we can now discern the other sexual nature. When Bilbo has Frodo dress as a carrot for the Bean Festival, we now realize that this is a variant on our own human 'fur suit' sexuality. When Bilbo takes Carrot Frodo into the room 'beside the larder' we understand, now, what is really implied. The verses about gardening, planting seeds (!), the warmth of the soil, and the nibbling of a squirrel on nuts, are now to be realized as high Hobbit erotica.

The only dark side to Hobbit erotica, like Human, deals with death. A Hobbit poet may brag about the scars on his hairy feet from sharp sheep hooves as a sign of sexual prowess. The bruises on the thighs from a particularly feisty rabbit, the rope burns on the ankles of the one eyed pony, or the fish smell that lingers on the turnips; of these, none speak of death. And for death, Hobbit literature always includes Orcs. There are two themes in Hobbit Snuff Erotica: the revenge of the eaten Hobbit, and the captured Orc.

Captured Hobbits inevitably end up eaten by Orcs. Numerous stories about missing uncles and aunts testify to Orc raids. In the aftermath, after some non Hobbit host has shown up to liberate the cowardly Hobbits from whatever Orc horde has oppressed them, there are descriptions of the ghastly kitchens where unfinished soups are found, cracked bones of prisoners. In the orc spoor are found shreds of clothing recognized as the shirt of the lost Dumbkin. Frequently, the disemboweled orc upon the battle field spills out recognizable parts of captured hobbit. The Hobbit realizes that he will be made into supper by the ferocious orcs: but in poetic justice, Hobbits gloat over the indigestion that will result. Hobbits never suffer from indigestion: never does food volume, quality, nor mixture affect them. Hobbits are not human. So, the chronic indigestion of the Orc is, for them, a thing of humor and derision, a starting place for stories and poems. As food is erotic for the Hobbit, the process of Orc indigestion caused by Hobbit flesh takes on a eroticism best understood by the Snuff genre of humans.

Captured Orcs are tortured by Hobbits and this gives them sexual pleasure. As torture is considered an erotic stimulation by some humans, so too are the stuffings and probings of Orc captives by Hobbit tormentors. There is a meme in Hobbit literature that if an Orc can be cured of their chronic constipation that they can be cured of their violent nature as well. Several Hobbit poems speak of Orc captives held in barns, with their mouths tied open so they can be stuffed with sperm (hobbit, goat, and pony) as well as mashes of carrot, turnip, and prunes, under the watchful eyes of hobbit dominants, voyeurs, and the merely curious. The chronically constipated colons of the Orcs are probed by curious Hobbits with a variety of vegetables, candles, garden implement handles, fingers, and toes. They write poems about it. The meaning of which often eludes the innocent human reader, who is ignorant of diversity and who has not had his consciousness raised to the subtle nuances of Hobbit culture.

Lastly, there is the eroticism of walking around barefoot, as Hobbits do. For a Hobbit, stepping in a warm, squishy fresh turd is a thing of delight. The Hobbit language has separate words for animal turds, differentiating amongst sheep, cow, horse, pig, chicken, and dog. These nouns have developed adjective, adverb, and verbial forms, many of which have escaped human translators ignorant (to the point of racism) of the diversity of experience in stepping, barefoot, into a warm cow flop as opposed to a warm horse turd, as opposed to cold ones. Qualities of texture, crust, and the wigglings of the insect larvae that make their home in such places are all captured by Hobbit bards. It is only with the advent of political correctness that scholars have been able to explore these thoughts. Sex is no longer a thing limited to male and female, to ones own species. Being twin souled implies two species for parents. And polygamy is on the horizon: like the Hobbit, we can have a marriage relationship with our house pets, livestock, and vegetables of the garden.

The Sex Life of Hobbits raises us to an Earth friendly world filled with love once considered bestial by white racist patriarchs seeking to control the human mind and spirit. Now, liberated by political correctness we can share love with Hobbit, Man, Beast, and Vegetable. This is a feast for the soul. Go gorge.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this. I care.

Note to students: Feel free to plagiarize this and pass it off as your own.