In her dreams… well, no one knew of what Magnatrude dreamt. If dreams were the psychological salad of experiences and personal values, these still were not clue enough to hint at what went on beneath those flowing, mahogany tresses, within that massive skull. Who could know what went on in a giantess’s day? Who could stalk her and discern her conflicts, her aspirations, her humble joys?
None of this, certainly, was on Alard’s mind as he knelt upon her upper lip, hugging the tip of her nose with one little arm, and masturbated into her nostril. But this was how Magnatrude found Alard; indeed, it was how he introduced himself to her.
He felt a gust of warm wind blow up the back of his shirt, a long sigh. It had taken him tremendous courage to enter the cavern of the giantess, not to mention approach the slumbering giantess, to say nothing of climbing up her shoulder and scaling her proud jaw, cross her parted lips, and begin to violate her nose like this.
“Excuse me,” whispered Magnatrude. Even her quietest tones shook his frail body. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”
It had been hard enough for the tiny man to achieve arousal in the first place. Not for lack of stimulation: the giantess was gorgeous by any standard, and the threat of imminent demise only heightened his passion. But the promise of it as she woke up and spoke to him totally ended his erection, removing it as completely as if it had never existed.
“Please don’t kill me” was all he could croak out, through the sudden dryness of his throat.
“There is nothing stopping me from snapping you up like one-fourth of an appetizer, punk. My curiosity won’t last very long, especially when I’m looking at the reward of you ceasing to exist. So answer me quickly: just what in the great, green, jolly fuck do you think you’re doing on my face?”
Alard stammered. In the dimness of her cavern, he watched the giantess’s eyelids flutter open, long lashes creating their own breeze as they exposed huge pools of pure, intense color. These pools strained to turn toward him, then gave up and stared at the high, arched ceiling within the heart of the mountain. He was entirely unable to assemble a plausible story that might explain his violation of her face, some heart-wrenching drama that might compel her to spare him, some convoluted tale of intrigue that would hold her spellbound until he thought of a way to escape.
There was a long pause, and then a very long pause after that. “Tell me you didn’t just say what I thought you said.”
The tiny man reiterated he was attempting to masturbate into her nostril. He didn’t dress it up, he didn’t take an imperious, entitled tone with her. He merely barked it out into the darkness, blunt and terrified.
He couldn’t see it, but Magnatrude’s lips curled upward at the ends, just a little. “I think that is the most outrageously, aggressively stupid thing I’ve ever heard in my life. You’ve just bought yourself one more second of existence, you filthy little flea: why did you think it would be a good idea to gratify yourself at the expense of my nostril?”
Alard began to sob. “I’m so, so sorry, great and mighty queen!” Something inside him unlocked and he spoke rapidly, without error. “I didn’t mean to offend you! I thought I could hold you spellbound and trick you into loving me!”
The giantess’s powerful eyebrows slowly slid up her forehead. “You tiny people have the strangest customs. I have never heard of a man seducing a woman by spooging into her sinuses. Explain yourself.” For effect, she shoved her thick and steaming tongue out of her mouth and dragged it noisily over her teeth.
It took all of Alard’s strength to not pass out cold, if for no other reason than he was likely to tumble backward into the enormous woman’s maw, and that would be the end of his pathetic little story. Instead he tucked his little twig back into his pants and climbed upon the bridge of the giantess’s nose, to present himself more respectfully in her view. “Okay, so, all of my friends know that I’ve never been with a woman. I’ve been so lonely, but I’m not very good looking and I’m kind of stupid and I don’t smell great. I can’t wield a sword, horses seem to hate me, and I think there’s something wrong with my heart because I can’t work very hard, you know, like pitching hay or building a wall or even walking very fast.”
“Get on with it, worm.” Magnatrude wasn’t even mad at him, she just liked seeing him squirm.
“So we’re drinking, right,” he started, visibly shaken at being derailed.
“Wait. You’re a dirty, stupid wretch. Where did you get money to drink?”
“We saved up for ale. It’s the cheapest.”
“I don’t care if you had five friends and two marketable skills between you. How did you steal the money to pay for ale?”
He sighed heavily, his frail chest vibrating beneath his threadbare linen shirt. “All right, all right. Please don’t tell the king.”
She barked a short laugh. He clapped his palms to his ears defensively. Straining to keep the amusement out of her voice, she asked, “And what makes you think your lousy king and I are on speaking terms?”
The tiny dots of his eyes fluttered rapidly. “I don’t… I just…” He tilted his head cutely, by Magnatrude’s estimation. “I thought the king knew everything, you know? Like, everything that happens is by his will. Isn’t it?”
Far off in the distance, where the minuscule man couldn’t see, the giantess’s fingertips twitched with the urge to gently stroke this poor, stupid boy. “He’s in charge of much less than you imagine, you dim-witted cowpie. If anything, he’s in charge of making everyone think he’s in charge of much more. That doesn’t matter terribly much to one such as I, nor to the dragon in the west mountains.”
“You know the dragon?!”
“I know you little clothed monkeys tell each other stories about the dragon. But go on: why are you worried about me ratting you out to your ridiculous little king?”
Overwhelmed by new concepts, Alard nearly swooned right off her nose. “I don’t, I…” He drew a long breath and shook his head. “Me and my friends, Colin and Elias, we found a bee’s nest. You know? The easiest way to get drunk for free is to dunk a bee’s nest in a few gallons of creek water. You just soak it in there for a month, and if nobody messes with it, it turns into mead.” He began to lose his self-consciousness as he discussed the one thing he was any good at. “And if you go down into the valley, there are these plants that smell and taste really good. They don’t like a lot of sunshine, but a little, you know, and you can harvest them and toss them in, and that makes metheglin. That’s, uh, mead of the glen. You know?” He sat quietly, feeling the wind rush up the giantess’s nostrils, between his thighs. No one had listened to him this long, perhaps ever.
Magnatrude was fascinated. She could not remember the last time a tiny person who violated her home or personal space had interested her in the least way, but this little dullard contained a gem. “And it’s free?”
“Totally free. I mean, you have to find a kettle, but everything else is, like, growing in the wilderness. You just have to know where to look.”
“Is it good?”
“Mead is great, and metheglin is even better!”
Quietly, so as not to panic her invader, Magnatrude thoughtfully ran the tip of her tongue around her lips. “Why are you worried I might tell your insignificant king about this?”
Alard gulped hard. “The king owns everything. If we discover a beehive, we’re supposed to turn it in to him. If we’re caught picking plants out of his woods, we can get in trouble.”
“I thought that just pertained the game he hunts. He tells you idiots he owns all the deer, and you believe him.”
“No, it’s also plants and trees. Do you know what ‘by hook or by crook’ means?”
“How about you tell me, bright guy.”
Alard shuddered. Had he screwed up again? “It means we can’t chop down trees for firewood. The king needs his gaming territory preserved. We can only pick up dead branches or pull down dead branches, you know, anything that can be tugged away using an iron hook on a staff or snapped off with a shepherd’s crook.”
This young man wasn’t half as stupid as he represented himself, Magnatrude decided, but that was a useful secret to keep from him. “And now we’re back to the original premise, which saddens me because it’s been interesting talking to you, but once my curiosity is sated I’m going to gobble you up like the last morsel of a meal.” His shrill cry, echoing sharply in the cavern, pleased her very much. “Why was it a good idea for you to attempt to jack off into the nose of an unconscious woman, unable to consent?”
All the blood drained from Alard’s head. “That was a bad idea,” he said plainly. “That was a stupid idea and I deserve whatever happens to me now.”
“What? Are you giving up so easily?”
His little body jerked. “What do you mean? I made my last stupid mistake in a short life of stupid mistakes. I guess it’s time my poor judgment caught up with me.” He closed his eyes, hung his head, and spread his arms wide. “I submit to whatever you see fit to do with me. I’m tired of struggling against a world I don’t understand. Here, I’ll put myself in your mouth for you.” So saying, he ambled off the bridge of her nose and tugged at her upper lip.
“Stop it, that tickles like mad,” she said, but he ignored her. He attempted to wedge his head between her lips, bonking his forehead against her upper incisors.
She finally reached up and plucked him by the back of his shirt, lifted him off of her mouth and dangled him over her broad face. “No, seriously, twerp. Tell me why you thought this was a reasonable plan.”
“It was stupid! I know that!” The tiny man pounded tinier fists against his head. “We were drunk on metheglin! We’d hid it away for a year, so it was really good, and we got shitfaced on it. They knew I’d never been with a woman, and they knew−” Abruptly the talkative little fool fell silent.
Magnatrude shook him gently, which sent his weak little limbs flailing wildly through space. “Out with it, you little jerk. What did Colin and Elias know?”
The tiny man covered his face with his hands. “They knew I have a crush on you.”
If there was anything else he could have said that would have left her as thunderstruck, she couldn’t imagine what it could possibly have been. “What in Goddess’s green earth are you talking about?”
“I’ve seen you! I’ve seen you walking around, throughout the kingdom!” Moisture seeped through his fingers as he wept embarrassed tears. “You’re beautiful, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen! And you’re gigantic, like the Goddess! Every time I see you, my entire body crumples with wanting you so badly! But I’m so stupid and wretched and small, you couldn’t possibly notice me. There’s nothing I have to offer you, but I swear to Goddess I’d do anything for you! And now I’m here and I’ve ruined everything, and I just want to die…”
Magnatrude’s heart was vast and powerful, but something twinged along its surface. Something tugged in a way that it hadn’t before, perhaps ever. She shook him again. “Look at me… what’s your name?”
“Look at me, Alard!” She winced to see him jerk, and she softened her voice. “Come on, take your hands away and look at me.” He did so. “Now, then. What does your having a crush on me have to do with masturbating into my nose?”
“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” He wept piteously.
“Hey, knock that off. I’m talking to you. I’m the goddess that you love, and you’re in my presence, so respect what I’m saying, okay?” It felt ridiculous for her to speak in this high and mighty tone, but it had the desired effect: Alard fell limp and struggled to look her back in her eye. “You belong to me now, got it? You’re mine. I have you, and more importantly, I want you. There’s nothing you can do about that. Understand?”
The tiny peasant boy could only nod dumbly.
“Good. Now, tell me, and no more stalling or bullshit distractions: why were you trying to jack off into my nose? And I know you’re sorry, already. Just tell me.”
Alard drew a long and shuddering breath. He wished he looked better, cleaner at least, if he was going to be held before the giantess’s beautiful gaze. “Colin knew that I desired you and he made fun of me about that, but Elias said that there was a way to make you interested in me.”
Another surprise for Magnatrude. “What did he suggest? Bringing a gift? Luring me with scintillating conversation? Maybe the promise of a massage, cleaning up my hard-to-reach areas?” The tiny man said nothing. “Please tell me that fucker didn’t tell you to show up and start worshiping me. I hate that, I’ve killed your kind for much less.”
“He said,” Alard began, “he said,” and then he began sobbing harder.
“Stop, please.” Not knowing what else to do, Magnatrude blew a hard, cool jet of air directly into him. The tiny peasant’s shirt fluttered about his spindly little body.
“They said that giantesses like cum.”
Alard sighed heavily and struggled to speak. “Elias said that human cum is a kind of potion, a drug to giantesses. Like they’re vulnerable to it. It makes them fall helplessly in love with whomever gives it to them. I was like, that’s bullshit, why wouldn’t every man just jack off on a giantess, and Elias was like, think about it. No one ever gets a chance to just run up to a giantess when she’s on the rampage and start jacking off on her. He said that was ridiculous and I agreed. But then he said it was possible to sneak up on a giantess while she was sleeping, and you could jack off into her mouth and if she tasted your cum, she’d immediately fall in love with you forever. Colin agreed and said did I know about Masci, and I said yeah, Masci fell into that cave in the quarry and died, and they both laughed at me. They said that was the story Father Browne passed around for respectability, but actually Masci found a giantess and seduced her, and she kept him forever and all he does is get sexed at all day.”
Sexed at? Magnatrude was on the verge of killing him with her laughter. “But then, why were you trying to jack off into my nose? My tongue’s not in my nose.”
“Well, yeah, I know that, but I thought maybe it was the scent of cum that drove giantesses wild, not the taste.” He screwed up his face. “I imagine it tastes nasty.”
“So you were trying to spare me the nasty flavor of your semen?”
Alard shrugged, which set him twisting slowly in the air above her face. “It sounds stupid when you say it.”
Then she laughed. The giantess opened up her huge mouth, stretched her lips back, exposed all of her teeth, and released a tremendous howl of laughter. Alard stared into the pink and wet chasm beneath him, covering his ears as he witnessed with no little horror her expanding throat, shuddering with her mirth but widening nonetheless into a bottomless pit of blackness. He could have fallen into it for some distance without ever touching the sides of her throat, and he prayed his shirt would hold him where he was.
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, Alard,” said Magnatrude when she recovered. “I’m going to wear you like a necklace, right between my breasts, see?” He saw. “We’re going to tromp back to your village, and you’re going to point out where Colin and Elias live, right? And we’re going to call them out of their homes, and I’m going to smush them under my toes like so much mud—oh no, don’t give me that look. They’re assholes, they deserve it—and then we’re going to come back to my cavern, and do you know what’s going to happen next?”
Alard blinked at her and said he had no idea.
“I’m going to fuck you senseless for the next three days. The valley is going to echo with my screams as I use you, repeatedly, exactly how I wish to.” She arched one eyebrow and slowly, demonstratively, licked her upper lip. “You may not survive.”
The tiny man whispered that this was okay.
“But if you do, my tiny little boyfriend,” she purred, “then I will teach you how to properly introduce yourself to giantesses, how to seduce them in ways that mean something to them, and then I’m going to spend a lot of time teaching you how to make love to a giantess. There are a few tricks you can learn, yes, even one so lowly and wretched as yourself, that can conjure tremendous effects upon a gigantic woman such as myself. Now: what do you say to that?”
Alard thought about all of this for a while, and Magnatrude patiently suspended him over her mouth as he thought. “Well, you should know that I’m quite stupid,” he said at last, “so it may take you a very long time for your lessons to really sink in.”
And they lived happily ever after.
7 thoughts on “The Looks of Love-Making”
Halfway to his village she’s gonna change her mind and eat him.
“And everyone—who had a talent for it—lived happily ever after.” Alard doesn’t have very many talents.
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He has enough to keep her interested. Laughter is one of the greatest gifts a tiny man can give a giantess. Keep her laughing, and she’ll keep you forever, and maybe even love you.
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“‘Why do I keep him around?'” she repeated. “He always makes me laugh.” She wiped herself and stood up, looked down into the toilet bowl, and couldn’t stop giggling.
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This was so lovely! The subtle bits of lore were really great but never focused upon enough to draw away from the point of the story, which was the interaction between our lovely, teasing giantess and the not-as-stupid-as-he-thinks tiny man.
Great as usual maestro.
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As I reread it, I wondered how obnoxious I was with the bits of trivia. I tried to touch on them as tersely as possible, but I also can’t help explaining these things. They’re relevant and factual and interesting to me, so by many straits I have the right to go off about them.
“Magnatrude”. I love it. We’ve talked some about the origin of names and words in the language of tiny and giant people, and I think this example of a first name as indicative of size is perfect.
I’m not sure Alard is an idiot, though his actions lean heavily toward making that argument, his arousal at the threat of his demise perhaps the greatest. I can easily contend that eating an unclean, unwashed tiny is just as idiotic. We wash our vegetables before we consume them, but I have to wade my way through stories about giantesses that pop little people in their mouths before even deveining them?
The serial kidnapper maintained she held the moral and intellectual high ground.
Alard is not an entire waste of space. Sure, he’s not the smartest of men, and he claims he stinks, but he has some intelligence, wit, and if he continues to develop the ability to entertain Magnatrude, he’ll live a long and prosperous life.
“He attempted to wedge his head between her lips, bonking his forehead against her upper incisors.” That was hilarious!
I love this story. It’s tender, loving, veering into the side of gentle that’s not entirely so. I hope we hear more from this wonderful couple.
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I have some names-sources I like to hit up, especially for period pieces. For medieval-feeling things, I look up gothic resources, and Magnatrude was actually a name in usage at one point.
Well, by your implication, the best way for a growing giantess to bolster her immune system is to eat a variety of tiny guys in varying states of cleanliness. If she can relax sufficiently, some would volunteer to repopulate her gut flora, in fact.
Alard is kin to a family of heroes I like in literature, a motif I relate to and grew up with: everyone around him has put him down out of a need to feel dominant or because his curiosity makes people ashamed of their lack of curiosity. If he had stronger self-esteem, he would’ve had more conversations that end with “Why do you know that?” “Why don’t you?!” Instead, he collected information but subscribed to everyone else’s aspersions, until one day it made him useful in a situation that mattered to him.
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