Raunch - Tumblr Posts

Acclimatisation

An orc gives a human a helpful lesson.

There was a certain kind of human that couldn't resist an orc. The man between Barric's legs was obviously a prime example. He had been a soldier at one point. Barric could see the kingdom's emblem tattooed on his shoulder. That didn't mean much now. The little man had given him puppy eyes from across the square. He had made an attempt to arrange it back into a glare when Barric met his eyes.  A few looks, a hand signal or two, and the little man had followed Barric out the square. Now they were in an empty stable. Barric was sitting on a bench, legs spread wide. The little man was on his knees in the straw with dirt on his breeches and Barric's fat cock in his mouth. A little tongue lapped at his dirty foreskin, licking up his filth. Barric patted his head, encouraging him to get stuck in. An orc was a lot bigger than the average human. He knew this. The little man knew this. Barric also knew that with a little patience, a little discipline, and a little gentleness, that wasn't an obstacle to a well-trained human. Very gently, he began to nudge his way into the man's mouth. Mild noises of indignation. The first step was to be strict. Barric held him there until the wriggling stopped and a little tongue started tasting again. Good. Barric was starting to get hard. He slowly filled up the man's mouth. Now the human was getting nervous again. Hold him still, pet his hair until he got used to it. Bury himself a little deeper. Soothe the accompanying nerves, feel the warmth of his throat as he pushed in again, repeat. A gag. He chuckled.

“It's alright.” Probably didn't understand Orcish. The back of a little throat. Barric waited a little longer, then he gripped the base of his thick cock and angled it down the best he could. A little further in. This bit was the hardest. He let the man gag it out, hushing him soothingly, until little lungs worked out how to take shallow breaths around him. Slowly, patiently, he filled up an expectant little throat with his cock. They were interesting things, humans. Oddly warlike in groups. But surprisingly well suited to companionship. Something about orcs in particular made their bodies respond a certain way. To adjust, essentially. It was fascinating to see it in action. Panic became regular nerves, then nerves cycled to mildly overwhelmed enjoyment, and then the little man was aroused again. Barric ruffled his hair. He was almost in now. A little nose buried itself in his bush, wrinkling. Barric felt his brow crease in amusement. He had been helping out the leatherworkers today. He wasn’t exactly smelling fresh after all that work. It would be fine. Orc stink was almost a drug to a human like this one. Barric started to move. Out by just an inch at first. Keep it slow. In carefully. Pick up the pace. Before long, he was fucking a little throat. The key was to hold the human in place. The back was different. Some proper preparation and a decent amount of lube went a long way. But the front needed care. Little necks were fragile. Being held in place made sure the little man wouldn't hurt himself and that Barric could get his pleasure uninterrupted. Little repetitive gags. It was always a little too much for them, really. But now the pleasure was in control, not the pain. The standard had been established, the little man knew his place, and Barric had free rein. The curve of his dick felt just right. He could feel the soft insides of the human's throat on every vein and pore of his thick cock. Finally, he came, filling up a little belly. He panted in pleasure, pumping a few last thrusts into the human's throat. That delicious feeling of his balls emptying into a willing receptacle. He held the little man there a little longer. That last pullout could be rough on a tired little throat. Barric liked to let himself soften first, it was gentler. He rubbed soothing circles over a small skull. He was a good little man. It was important to get that across. Carefully, gently, he began to pull out. Then he paused. His balls weren't the only thing that was full. He looked down. An obedient little blink, the human's attitude temporarily fucked out of him. He grinned and relaxed. His piss sprayed into the little man's throat. A surprised little splutter. He set a leg over the little man’s shoulder to make sure he didn't get any silly ideas. Barric exhaled in pleasure, holding his new toy in place, marking his territory. Angry little noises. Too much for him, of course. Barric chuckled as rancid yellow urine streamed out over a little chin. His tunic went from cream to dark yellowish-grey. Dripping from head to toe. It felt right. Barric made sure he pulled out before he was fully spent, smacking a little face with his limp cock. He stood up and looked down. Aim carefully. The last contents of his bladder drained over the little man's head. He couldn't have such an important part of him remain unmarked.  Then he was done. He tucked himself back into his furs. The human seemed too stunned to react. A look down at little hands, wet with stinking orcish urine. A puddle, staining the straw around his feet. Barric nudged his shoulder affectionately and wandered off. He knew where to find him, the little man worked at a stall in the market. Barric would be back. There was a lot more training to do, but it was a good start.

Up the Creek

Kingsley has to attempt a rescue when his husband gets a tiny hookup too deep.

Kingsley could hear music upstairs as he unlocked the door. He dumped his jacket over the bannister, kneeling down to pull off his shoes. Straight onto the shoe rack. There was an extra pair of men's shoes, lost between a couple of Asim’s trainers. A fraction of the size.

“I forgot he had a date over.” He called up the stairs. “Anybody home?” Hurried footsteps. A big, broad form appeared at the top of the stairs. Kingsley grinned.

“Hey, love. Where are your trousers?” Asim’s eyes were worried. He moved fast, thundering down the stairs. Kingsley caught him in his arms, looking him up and down. “Hey. Slow down. What's wrong?”

“Um. Really sorry. I lost a little man up my ass.” Kingsley snorted, his shoulders relaxing.

“You had me worried for a second. Again, love? Is that whose shoes are at the door?”

“Yeah. Can you, uh. Try to fish him out?”

“Hmm. How long ago was it?” Had Asim even tried to rescue him on his own? He was already wearing briefs.

“Only like ten minutes.”

“I might still be able to get him. How tiny we talking? Strong enough to put up a fight?” Asim scratched his head.

“Not really. I was just, you know. Letting him eat my ass. He wasn't very deep. He was just really enthusiastic, and I thought it would be harmless if I let him just put a hand in.” He had a bottle of lube in his hands. Kingsley took it. “And then it was a second. I know I should have told him off, but it felt good. And then he was inside, and it was kind of like, you know. He was already in, I might as well enjoy it. And then by the time I was done he was too deep for me to reach.” Kingsley rolled up his sleeves. 

“That’s fine, though, right? It's not as if he'll get hurt.”

“Yeah, but - he didn't sign up for - you know. My guts doing their thing. Things could get a bit messy if I can't get him out.” The lube was cold over his hands. He rubbed it between his palms and starting smearing it up and down his forearm.

“Alright. Assume the position. Let's see if I can pull him out.” He took off his ring as Asim pulled down his briefs. He had made that mistake before. “How small, then? That little six footer you keep on banging on about?” Asim got on his knees at the base of the stairs, looking over his shoulder. Despite the situation, it was a good view. Thick, hairy legs. Meaty glutes. Heavy balls dangling.

“Yeah. About six foot. Dale. You remember him?” Kingsley tugged his cheeks apart and winced. Smelly bastard.

“Whether I find him or not, you need a shower before we eat.” He probed around in the maze of stinking hair. Asim’s hole was easy enough to find. He wasn't exactly tight. Not everyone could lose an entire person up their ass, however tiny. “Dale is the IT guy, right?”

“Yeah! He's really cute. Barely reaches my shins, but he makes up for it in enthusiasm.” Kingsley tugged at a puffy hole.

“Mm. He sounds sweet. Let's have a look.” There was no sign of him from the outside. It wasn't really a surprise, there was no way Asim's ass would have left him on the surface for so long. “You remember we're ordering Italian later?”

“Yeah, I remember. Sorry. I was just gonna let him finish and send him home so I could get ready. Things just got too heavy.” Kingsley pointed his fingers into a familiar position. Asim’s hole parted around him. Into the darkness. A slow, careful advance deeper.

“Hmm. You want him to stay over?” Asim let out a happy exhale.

“Well - fuck, that feels good. Maybe. If you like him.” Kingsley was already up to his knuckles. He carefully twisted his hand around. No tiny man in Asim's rectum. He had already been swallowed deeper.

“Let's see if I can find him first. He might just have to stick it out.”

“Oh, but I'm gonna feel bad if that h - fuck, babe. If that happens.” Asim's hole squelched around his wrist as he got deeper.

“Please. You love little men up your ass.” Asim shuddered around him.

“Yeah, but - like I said. That wasn't - it wasn’t the plan.”

“Before arms started going up holes, huh?” There was something there. Rough fabric. Denim. He pulled it out. Slow and patient. The muscle let him go with a squelch. He inspected his find. A slimy little pair of jeans. “Hmm. I found trousers.” Asim looked over his shoulder.

“Fuck, they're his. Is he too far in?”

“Hold on. I haven't gone deep yet.” He flexed his wrist. “Ready for me to go back in?” Asim glanced over his shoulder. An eager smile.

“Yessir.”

“Calm down, love. We’re not doing a proper scene. This is a rescue mission.” He slowly buried his fist further in. A pleasurable grunt from Asim. He chuckled. “Feels good?”

“Really good. Sorry.”

“I'm not mad at you. I just want to keep track of what I’m here for.” He felt around. Muscle flexing around him. Asim shivered, a moan of pure pleasure. Then Kingsley nudged something. A small form. It twisted at his touch. Something latched desperately onto his fingers. He chuckled.

“There we go. Think I have him.” Asim let out a sigh. Pleasure or relief, it was hard to tell. “Let me pull him out slow so he can hang on.” He started to withdraw. Slowly, his forearm emerged, slimy with mucus. He frowned. The little man's grip didn't feel very secure. He probably needed to hold on himself. “Give me a moment. Let me - fuck.” The little hands around his fingers were gone. Swallowed up again inside Asim. “I lost him. Where are you, lad?” Asim's voice rose.

“I thought you had him?” Kingsley snorted, flexing his hand.

“Don’t get pissy with me. This isn’t my fault.” A deep breath.

“Sorry, babe. I just - you know. Feel guilty. And I don't want to scare him off.”

“It’ll be fine. He wouldn’t have volunteered to eat you out if he didn't like a bit of filth. I think the suction was just too much for him to deal with.” He reached back in. Deeper and deeper, trying not to be too rough on Asim. Was the little man gone? He frowned. Asim groaned roughly. Big toes curled. Kingsley grinned. If the worst came to the worst, at least him and the Asim could have some fun. Before he could make the call, he found the form again. He grabbed on before it sunk deeper. It shifted a little. He breathed out.

“There we go. That's a leg.” Unlike the little man, Kingsley wasn't completely at the mercy of Asim's bowels. He braced and pulled. Steady squelching. Warm, wet walls, pulsating around his arm. Back outside. His hand was easy enough to pull out. Then sloppy muscle clenched over little calves. It was amazing how much Asim could tighten up when there was a little man to tyrannise. Slowly, reluctantly, Asim's hole let him pull a small form out, clamping wetly over every muscle and joint. Mucus and filth, coating every inch. He chuckled. That was satisfying. Asim moaned as the lad started to emerge.

“Holy shit. That feels good.”

“Stop clenching. You're gonna suck him back in.”

“I know. That would be bad, right?” Kingsley gave his ass a slap. Satisfying ripples in fat and muscle.

“You tell me.” A fuzzy little torso. Finally, a face. Asim's hole squelched around it until Dale was finally free. Kingsley sat him up, examining the little form. A hairy little man. Slimy with mucus, mind visibly blown by his ordeal. Asim turned around, ignoring the filth as he pulled the little man into his arms.

“Dale! You ok? I thought I lost you there. I was worried I wasn't gonna see you till tomorrow.” A weak little splutter. “I know, buddy. Sorry about that. We both got a bit carried away. Oh, hang on. This is my husband Kingsley. Kingsley, this is Dale.” Kingsley scanned the little man up and down. 

“Asim was right. You do have pretty eyes.” He offered a hand.

“Um. I'm… dirty.” 

“I know, lad. I just pulled you out with this hand. Don't sweat it.” He enveloped the little man's hand, trying not to crush him as he shook it. “Me and Asim are ordering some food. Let's take a shower, then you can join us.” The little man still seemed like he was on a different plane of existence. Asim half-propelled, half-carried him off, the little man stumbling in front of him. Kingsley stretched as he entered the bathroom behind them, ruffling a slimy little head of hair. “Still shellshocked? You'll be alright. No harm done.”

“Well, I was - inside a person. Inside Asim.” Asim crouched down and gave him another hug.

“I know, buddy. Really sorry. You were doing such a good job, and I just didn't stop you when I should have. You would have come out eventually, it just might have been… dirty.” The little man blinked. 

“You weren't kidding when you said I would need a change of clothes.”

“No, buddy. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. Then I want the two of you to get to know each other.”

Up the Creek #2 / #3

Putting both in one because chapter #2 doesn't have that much action. First everyone showers off the results of the afternoon. The next morning, Dale once more tries his luck - and this time, Kingsley is only there to enable him.

Kingsley reached for the soap, watching the scene in front of him. An overprotective Asim was an entertaining thing to watch. He had Dale penned between massive calves, bulk casting a shadow over the tiny form beneath him. The only water reaching Dale was runoff. Kingsley watched as the little man made a step towards freedom. A massive foot planted in front of him, nudging him back into confinement. A little complaint, inaudible over the running water. Asim scratched his hairy balls.

“I should've taken a leak before I got in.” The big man was barely paying attention. Kingsley knew what was going to happen now. He looked down, grinning as the little man looked up in fear. Asim relaxed his bladder with a yawn, spraying the little man with piss.

“Finally giving him a proper shower, are you?” Asim reached down absent-mindedly to stop his prisoner from escaping, scrubbing a hairy pit with his other hand.

“Yeah. Daley likes it. Right, buddy?” The little man opened his mouth to say something. Asim adjusted his aim, the stream filling up a small mouth. Little splutters. Asim finally finished emptying his bladder and stretched, shaking himself off. A sign of a scowl beneath him.

“He needs to be clean sooner or later, love.” Asim finally squatted down to pay the little man some attention

“I know. He’s just so - teasable. Come here, buddy.” He gave the little man a hug. Kingsley snorted.

“Pass him here. You wanted us to get to know each other.” Kingsley sat on the shower floor, lifting the little man into his lap. Soap first. Then shampoo and conditioner. Dale was an obedient little thing. Probably still shellshocked from his earlier ordeal. Asim stepped out next to them. Once Kingsley was done, he trapped the little man in a quick headlock and opened the shower door. Asim pounced. Dale disappeared beneath a towel. Kingsley stretched as he stepped out behind them. Asim looked up, tucking a wriggling bundle of fabric under his arm. 

“Looking good, babe.”

“Focus on the lad.” Asim gave the bundle an affectionate squeeze.

“My bad.” He sat down. The bundle went between his legs. He scrubbed the little man down playfully. Small, ineffective struggles. Finally, everyone was dry. Dale’s hair was a mess after Asim had scrubbed him down. Kingsley ran his hands under the tap, snagging him as he went for the door, working some kind of order back into his hair. He shook off his hands. Asim was happy. The little man looked like he was beginning to work out what planet he was on again.  Everything was in order.

“Everyone ready to order some food?”

“I’ll get it. Same as usual, right?”

“Aye. You want anything in particular, lad?” Confused little stare. “Not quite together yet. He won’t eat much. Just the usual.” Asim bounded off. Apparently, Kingsley was on petsitting duty now. He led Dale down the stairs and into the living room. It was hard to work out the limits of his shyness. Around little men, Asim had a talent for exposing submission. He was cute, though, now that most of Asim's filth had been washed off. Plenty of people would have run away screaming by now, so he was either relatively relaxed or his attraction had shut down any complaints. That was enough for Kingsley. 

“You still smell of ass, lad.” A little grimace.

“Blame Asim.”

“You do speak after all.” He set the little man up on the sofa with a shot glass of water he could barely lift, grabbing a coke for Asim. Soon, Asim was back. Kingsley lifted the little man’s glass safely out of the way as he bounced towards them. Just in time. Asim lifted the little man one-handed, dumping him in his lap.

“I have your spare clothes, buddy.” Another pair of trousers. Kingsley raised an eyebrow.

“Jeans, lad? Do you just want a blanket?”

“No, these are good.” Asim produced a t-shirt as well. Definitely not the little man’s. Small hands picked it up, brow furrowing, the fabric unfolding over his legs and down the front of the sofa. Asim took it from him and pulled it over his head. The struggling was stronger now. Futile, of course, but at least he had some personality back. Kingsley grinned and gave his little shoulder a poke.

“So. Your name is Dale. You work in IT.” The little man looked up. An owlish blink.

“Uh - yes. A systems administrator. You work in cybersecurity, right?”

“That I do. But I met this big oaf when I was a personal trainer.” He fixed Dale in his gaze. “Enough small talk. What’s your intention with my husband?” Asim glared at him.

“Uh - sex, I suppose? Respectfully. We get along. He’s a friend as well as a hookup.” Kingsley snorted.

“What about with me?” A small head cocked.

“I think that’s up to you as much as me.”

“Humour me. Go into detail.” Little eyes looked him up and down. Surprisingly bold.

“You’re attractive. I think you know that. I don’t know you that well, but I would like to see if the attraction is mutual. And - well - Asim is your husband, not mine. That makes it important for me to know your boundaries.”

“Hmm.” He watched as Asim wrangled the little man more firmly into his arms, bulky biceps enveloping his head.“Let’s see what happens. I wouldn’t have invited you to stay if I wasn’t interested.” Asim scowled at him, a small hand tapping weakly at his beefy forearm.

“Are you done bullying him?”

“You’re one flex from a sleeper hold.”

“This is a cuddle. I'm being gentle.” The doorbell rang. “I'll get it.” Kingsley chuckled as Asim dumped the little man in his lap. Small arms shook themselves, and then he looked up. A hint of fire. Kingsley growled at him, tweaking his ear. Hands batted at his fingers and he twisted an arm gently behind Dale's back. Asim came back in, dumping a bag on the coffee table. He pulled it open and spread out the contents. Plastic cutlery and a couple of boxes landed in front of Kingsley. Then Asim sat down and lifted Dale back up. A little yawn. Asim handed the little man a slice of garlic bread. “Don’t sleep yet, buddy. You must be hungry.” He set a container in Dale’s lap. Probably a week's food at that size. Kingsley swiped it.

“How much do you think that little runt can eat?” A rebellious frown from Dale. Kingsley raised an eyebrow and the little man looked back down. Asim laid a reassuring hand over Dale’s torso.

“Just a few bites. He needs his energy back.” A miniature elbow bounced off Asim’s belly.

“I am right here, you know. You can talk to me directly.” Asim ruffled his hair.

“Feisty now, are we? Shh. Eat a bit more, then you can sleep.” There was a moment when it looked like Dale had something else to say, then he gave up. His eyes were already beginning to close. Kingsley reached for Asim's hand, squeezed it, and dug back in. It was nice. His husband leaned into his side. The little man beneath them drifted slowly off, a small hand still on Kingsley’s thigh. Kingsley gave it a gentle tap. Tiny palm, little fingers. He looked down properly. Already comatose. Kingsley leaned into Asim's shoulder, tickling the little man's chin.

“He's cute. I like him.”

“Right? So you don’t mind if we keep him?” Kingsley flicked Asim’s forehead.

“Slow down. He can come to bed with us today, for starters. Let's see how it goes.” A sheepish grin.

“Okay. Thanks for fishing him out earlier. I was worried.”

“I’m just glad it wasn't anything too serious. I thought something had happened when you came running down the stairs.” Something crossed his mind. “Why were your briefs back on already if you wanted me to fish him out?”

“Well, I - I figured he would be fine. You’re not always back early, and he was on a timer before he got too deep. I figured I might as well start getting dressed.” Kingsley grinned.

“Poor little guy. What is he, a toy? You were just going to leave him up there?”

“I didn't have a choice! You know this. If something's too deep, I just have to relax and let it work its own way out. Even if the something is a someone.” Kingsley chuckled.

“You’re an asshole.”

“He likes it. You'll be just as bad soon. He's the perfect size for just - you know. Messing around.” Kingsley looked down. In his sleep, Dale was calm. Utterly oblivious to Asim's plans.

“Messing around, huh?”

“In a friendly way. I want him to have fun too.”

“Give him to me for a minute.” Asim lifted up Dale’s unconscious form, handing him over. Kingsley held Dale up in front of him. He really was cute. A little scaled-down Adonis. He stirred.

“Babe! You woke him up!” Kingsley wrapped him up in his arms.

“He'll be fine. Go back to sleep, lad.” He put a tiny face in his pit before the little man could open his eyes. Tiny struggles. He chuckled. It didn't take the little man long to pass back out, still tenting in his jeans. Asim gave him a look.

“That was kind of hot.”

“Mhmm. He needed sleep.” Asim sniffed.

“Now he smells of pits as well as ass. Do you think he even knew he was awake?”

“Probably just thought it was a wet dream. All he should've got was darkness and stink before he was back under. Strip him and put him to bed, would you? Then we can have some full-size fun.” A salute. Asim scooped the little man up. Kingsley leaned back and watched him walk out.

Chapter #3

When Kingsley woke up, Dale was up to his bicep in Asim's hairy arse, getting deeper by the moment. He looked up desperately. A slurping noise, then he went a little deeper. No amount of struggling could rescue him at that size.

“Asim persuaded you to wake him up with some play, huh?” A nod. “Then you went too deep and discovered that he can sleep through just about anything?”

“Help, please.” Kingsley sat down next to him.

“Well, lad. I could. If you want me to, I’ll do it. But I've got a counteroffer. I want to get my rocks off. I got some toys here. I want you to hang on to this chain and take a quick spelunking session. Everyone will end up with what they want.” He watched as the little man braced against the pull of Asim's insides. A wet slurp. Dale pulled out a couple of inches, then got sucked in twice as far.“Keep in mind, though. If you lose your grip, I'm not rescuing you this time. It's all on you. I'll let Asim know you're inside him so he knows to keep an eye out, but that's it.” Common sense was a powerful force. Libido was stronger. Kingsley smirked as he watched the little man mull it over.

“That sounds fun.”

“Yeah it does.” The little man’s shoulder disappeared into the depths, swallowed between massive glutes.

“But I still need help for now, please.” Kingsley took pity on him. He wrapped his hand beneath the little man's armpit to stop the advance.

“Let's see you put some muscle into it, lad. Pull yourself out.” Small muscles tightened. Kingsley watched the little man's back tense up. Not very effective. He lent more power, grinning as Asim's walls tightened around a tiny arm. A mumbled complaint, even as he slept. A slow, wet squelch. Dale pulled out his arm and hopped back. He shook off his hand, wincing as something unpleasant oozed over his fingers. “Not enjoying yourself?”

“I did actively volunteer for this. I can't really complain about the general filth.”

“Correct.” Kingsley reached for the bedside table. In the bottom drawer was a thick chain. Massive to the little man, a flared toy at the end with a handhold for Kingsley. The little man examined it. “Plenty of handholds, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Let's get you lubed up. Boxers off. Even if you make it out, they won’t.” He shook the bottle and held it over the little man’s head. A grumble. Small arms shielded Dale's eyes. Kingsley squeezed, watching lube ooze over the little form. He set it aside and started rubbing it over the man's torso. A shiver. “Cold?”

“Yeah.”

“You're going somewhere warm, lad. Stick it out for me.” The chain was next. Plenty of lube. Better safe than sorry.

“I do want to be able to hold on, you know.”

“Uh huh.” The little man was studying his expression. Kingsley stared down openly. He wasn't trying to hide his intentions.

“You don’t think I'm making it out anytime soon, do you?”

“I know you won't, lad.”

“I think I can prove you wrong.”

“Be my guest.” He gave the little man his chain. Little arms grabbed on. Kingsley lifted it up, looking down at Asim's spread-out form. Bulk and muscle and thick black hair. He spread massive cheeks one-handed, dangling the little man above his new home. He landed the first link on Asim's hole, poking it in. Still plenty loose enough. A couple more links and Asim took over. He let massive cheeks close over the chain. Wet, muted squelching as metal started to disappear. The little man wasn't high up. His feet were already in the dark crevice, Asim's hair curling around his ankles. “Here we go, lad.”

“Hang on.” Kingsley pulled the chain taut. Dale looked up at him, hanging on for dear life, sudden worry on his face. “This is not the cleverest thing I've ever volunteered for, is it?” Kingsley poked his little stomach.

“You know you're not going to get hurt.”

“Yeah. Uh. What about getting lost?”

“Isn't that the fun of it?” The bob of a tiny Adam’s apple. The little man nodded. Kingsley relaxed his hold. Dale winced as fat arsecheeks moulded around his form, sweat and lube rubbing over him. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Uh. Wet. Warm.” The little man rubbed his nose. “And he kind of stinks.”

“Yeah he does. That's a proper man's smell.”

“I'm a proper - eughh.” He batted a coil of sweaty hair away from his mouth. “Fuck. Why is there so much suction?” He disappeared between greasy curls. Kingsley snorted, pulling Asim's cheeks apart again. There he was. Little feet had already disappeared inside. Dale looked up. Fear. Thrill. Humiliation, red across his cheeks. Kingsley blew on him as he opened his mouth, Asim's hole clenching beneath him, dragging in his calves. “That’s enough, lad. Just let it take you now.” Asim's hole took its time. Link after link slid wetly inside. Slowly, hungrily, the abyss swallowed Dale down. Kingsley watched, feeling himself up through his pyjamas. The little man looked up as his thighs slid in. Kingsley raised an eyebrow.

“Jesus. I’m fucking stupid.” A big squelch. His torso was gone. Kingsley grinned.

“See you later, lad.” Kingsley made the last move, placing a hand on a tiny head and pushing gently in. Asim's hole swallowed greedily. Gentle, warm suction around his finger. He went in a little more until he was up to the knuckle. There was still a small head beneath the pad of his finger. He withdrew the finger, watching for a moment. The idle release of gas around the chain. Asim let out a happy exhale in his sleep. He winced as it hit his nose. He pulled the chain out a little, then stopped. A little more. A glimpse of a tiny head. Out came Dale, piece by piece. Filthy. He spat something out, then looked up, beaming. 

“You did get me out!” Kingsley let the chain go slack. “Oh - fuck.” Then he was gone again. Kingsley toyed with him lazily. In and out, the chains gleaming with unmentionable fluids. Dale’s energy wouldn't last forever. The stench, and the suction, the slippery flesh around him. It was all getting too much for him. Enthusiasm turned sluggish. Finally, he pulled the chain out for the last time. Link by link, slimy, soiled, and with no passenger hanging on. Kingsley ran it over his hands, feeling the warmth of Asim's insides on the metal. Asim's arse was still a glorious thing to watch in action. The casual release of musk. Kingsley reached for some lube. He pulled off his boxers and yawned. He laid down over Asim's body, comparing the bulk of their bodies. Muscle on muscle, heft on heft. A good match. A far cry from the little man lost somewhere in Asim's plumbing. He thrust in lazily. Loose, sloppy hole. It felt good. Familiar. Finally, a sleepy stir. Asim breathed out and pushed back. A rough murmur.

“Feels good.”

“Mhmm.” Kingsley pressed his lips against Asim's neck. It was a comfortable fuck. Just the steady movements of his hips. He shifted his bulk slowly, Asim grinding against the sheets beneath them.

“Didn't we have a little man in bed with us?”

“Aye. He's gone spelunking.”

“Mmm.” A moment of stillness, then Asim chuckled as he registered the sentence.

“Where?”

“Where do you think, love?” Kingsley gave his ass a lazy smack.

“Did I sleep through it?”

“You did.” A yawn.

“I'll have to put him back up there again later, then. I want to feel it. He was happy about it, right?”

“Of course he was. What sort of arsehole do you think I am?”

“You know that's not what I meant.” Kingsley burrowed his head into the back of Asim's hair.

“I know. He was happy.” Kingsley wrapped his hand around Asim's, closing his eyes as warmth built beneath him. It was a pleasant orgasm. Warm and affectionate. He laid down with a yawn, feeling powerful muscles shift beneath him.

“You gonna come back to sleep for a few more minutes, babe?”

“Just a couple. Breakfast soon.” He lay there a little longer, feeling the early morning sunlight warm his back as it filtered around the curtains. Finally, he got up and pulled out. A flow of his come onto the sheets. It was a problem for later. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Time for some food, then. I'm gonna use up some bacon. You want orange juice as usual?”

“Yeah. And - well. Coffee, please.”

“You don't usually have coffee.” A guilty shuffle. Asim rolled over and scratched his belly. Kingsley chuckled. “You’re a sadist sometimes, love. Go on then. I still need to wake up. I'll put a proper pot on.”

Living Arrangements

The changing room was mostly empty this early in the morning. Just two men, side by side. One glanced at the other. “Hey. Bryce. The little guy. Have you got him today?”

“Of course I have. I don't let him out of my reach at his size.” He fished around in his jock, pulling out a tiny form. Beet red, covered in Bryce’s sweat. A nervous little squeak. He tried to cover himself. The brute ignored him, sitting down and landing him on his hefty bulge. Huge hands prodded him carefully around. The first man sat down next to them, looking down in fascination.

“Where did you get him?”

“The asswipe was my apprentice before he shrunk. Early twenties when I met him. I was fond of him. Not too bright, but he worked hard. Sweet kid. Gave me a bit of attitude, but he always made up for it. Ain’t that right, boy?” Bryce tapped a tiny shoulder, sending the little man tumbling onto his thigh. A big hand caught him and propped him back up. “We caught the virus, got confined together, he got shrunk and I was fine. Bit of a mess with his family, I ended up with custody. His request. Now he's my boy.”

“I always wanted a little man. Cute as fuck. Are you allowed to keep him like this?”

“Yeah. So long as he's safe and healthy, anything goes. He likes my stench, I like my crack licked clean, it's a good match.” Huge fingers rubbed a miniature chest.

“Can I say hello?”

“Fine. Boy. This is Tariq. Say hello.” A tiny squeak. It was hard to make out the exact words, but he seemed in good spirits.

“Hi buddy. You doing ok?” A tiny thumbs up. Tariq grinned. “Alright. I want one.”

“Find your own. He's mine.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Can I hold him?”

“Hmm. Hold out your hand.” The tiny weight of his body might as well have been a mouse in Tariq's hands. He grinned.

“Oh, he's fucking cute.” He ran a finger over a small head. Fuzzy. Damp with Bryce's sweat. He bounced the little man in his palm and Bryce growled.

“Don't be rough. He's not yours to throw around.”

“I'm not trying to mess with you, brother. I just want to see what it's like having a little man.” Bryce watched him like a hawk. “Does he have a name?”

“Dario. But he answers fine to boy or asswipe.” Tariq turned him over. He prodded the little man's legs apart. A tiny squeak. Bryce plucked the little man out of his hands. “Enough of that. You want any more, find your own.”

“How do I get one, though? You got lucky.” Bryce turned his tiny man over, spitting on his thumb and rubbing a patch of dirt on his back. “Get one to give you guardianship. That's the one thing he controls. Even this little man regularly registers as happy with his guardian, otherwise they would take him away.” Tariq looked down. He frowned. 

“Can you cover his ears a minute?” Bryce wrapped finger and thumb around a tiny head. Confused little movements.

“Can you… you know. Just sort of grab one? Is it legal?”

“Don't be a fuckin' savage.” Something in his expression said differently. The little man squeaked as a huge hand swept him up again. Bryce reached unceremoniously down the back of his sweats, stuffing in his little toy. Then he leaned in. “Alright. Listen. Kidnap is illegal.”

“What's the little man gonna do, snitch on us?”

“He's gonna sulk at me if he hears this, and I want my asscrack licked clean on the way home. This little bastard's strikes are a right pain in the arse.”

“Who wears the trousers here, you or him?” Bryce looked him dead in the eye. A loud fart. Tariq winced as the smell hit him. Was the boy even conscious after that? “Me, you prick. But I like my asswipe happy. Shut up and listen. If you find a tiny with a thing for big men, the police won’t give a shit if he goes missing. There are plenty of loopholes in the law when it comes to tinies.” Bryce paused for another stinking fart, grinding backwards. “Tiny logistics is a shitshow for the government. One less on their hands is doing them a favour so long as you’re not planning to hurt them.”

“No, no. I just want… a companion. Like yours.”

“Text me later. I know a guy who can help. Enough of that now. I want to give the asswipe a last breath of fresh air.”

“Yeah, let me see him again.” Bryce fished the little man out from his crack. The brute's sweat glistened on the tiny form. Weak, angry noises. Tariq watched, fascinated, as Bryce wrestled the little man with a finger.

“How do you normally communicate with him?”

“I got this fancy microphone that can pick him up at home. Most of the time he's just yapping. It's fine to leave him be so long as he's safe.” Something from beneath them. “Little brat, you are.” Tariq frowned.

“He gives you attitude?”

“Yeah. It's not like he can resist. He mouths off to feel better. Fine by me. So long as he keeps my foreskin licked clean.” Tariq reached for the little man again. Blocked by Bryce. He grumbled and stretched.

“Well, your daddy's got you on a tight leash.”

“Damn right I have. He's too small to go running off.” Even now, the little man was trapped behind huge fingers.

“Where does he go, though? There's got to be times it gets hard to be careful.”

“They're tough as shit. Little man's been everywhere. In my cock, up my arse. In my belly and through my guts. He always comes out fine. Happy, even. Little pervert loves it.” Tariq let out a jealous growl.

“Shit, I need one. Alright. Let's get going. You remembered your towel today?”

“The asswipe cleans me up. Tongue and hands.”

“That's one hell of a task for that little man.” Signs of inquisitive little movement before Bryce squashed the little man firmly into his crotch.

“He’s got time. Let’s get this show on the road. Say goodbye, asswipe.”

“Bye, sir!” A tiny squeak. Then he was back in a massive, sweaty hand and thrust into the depths of the stinking brute's underwear. Bryce stood up and squeezed his bulge, snorting.

“Pull day. Let's work hard. Give the brat plenty of stink to roll in.”

An Overbearing Flatmate - #2

Mack expects Cole to clean his feet after he gets home from work.

Cole unlaced Mack's work boots, wincing as dirt smeared across his fingertips. They were robust, scuffed affairs, all worn leather and thick soles, big enough to cover Cole's chest. The giant indulged him as he got to work, lifting his leg so Cole could tug at his ankle.

"Come on, bud. Put your back into it." Cole struggled to pull off a massive boot with a pop. The acrid smell of Mack's sweat filled the room. The man chuckled, flexing his toes. "One down." He picked up the TV remote. A burly hand landed on Cole's head as he went to turn around. "You've got work to do, bud. I already had my shift. Now it's your turn. That's the rule." Reluctantly, Cole turned back down, and a second boot landed between his thighs. Mack ruffled his hair as he got back to work.

"Lift your leg a bit, sir. I can't get your boot off." Mack planted his boot on Cole's chest. "That wasn't what I meant." His complaints fell on deaf ears. He scowled and pulled, feeling the stiff rubber pressing against his chest. With a pop, Mack's boot slid off, leaving a dirty bootprint stamped across his chest. His hands were muddy, too. He looked up and Mack snorted. "Fine. You can go wash your hands off. Keep the shirt on. Grab me a beer while you're at it." Cole scowled at him. Mack settled back into the armchair as he scurried off. The asshole hadn't moved an inch by the time Cole was back. He passed up the man's beer. "Ta, bud." A pop and a hiss. Cole kneeled back down. A finger click. Cole frowned at him. "Give me a shoe." Cole passed it up, and a big hand settled in his hair, a second holding an oversized shoe in front of him. Mack grinned down at him. "You want to guess where your face is going next?"

"You don't have to be a sadist about it. Get it over with." An eyebrow raised. "Uh - please. Sir."

"Better. But I'm still the one in control here." With an affectionate smile, Mack slowly held it up to Cole's face. The foul smell got steadily worse. He tried to twist his head away, but Mack's fingers tightened effortlessly in his hair. All he could do was watch as Mack forced him into stinking darkness. He held his breath in an empty act of rebellion, but his lungs didn't last. He had to inhale. Mack chuckled. "There we go. How rank is that?" Cole coughed into the foul darkness. There was nothing he could do. Mack hauled him in by the collar into his lap. He crossed his arms. The giant settled in with one hand pinning his boot to Cole's face and the other wrapped around his stomach in gentle possession, chest rising and falling beneath Cole's head. "Don't fall asleep now, bud. You're barely getting started." Cole grumbled at him from inside his stinking prison. Mack finally let him out, giving him a playful shove off the chair and back between his feet. Cole shook himself off. A giant foot landed back on his chest.

"I don't even get a break?"

"Don't be lazy." Mack exerted slow, deliberate pressure, forcing him slowly to the floor. Cole winced, and the pressure lightened, only to return as Mack's foot moved up, drawing closer to his face. Damp and sweaty, Mack's socks covered his mouth, suffocating him. "Sniff." He couldn't do anything else. The second foot joined the first. Colossal soles bore down. A relaxed sigh above him. "Alright, pup. You stay there for a minute." A foot pressed on his chest once more. Mack removed his socks, one after the other. Cole grimaced. His next ordeal couldn't be far off.

"You can get to deal with these later." Mack tossed his socks to the side. Cole found himself facing two massive, foul-smelling feet. Rough and broad. As Mack lowered one over his face, his vision went dark. Cole dragged his tongue over rough skin, wincing as salt and sharpness hit his tongue. He stopped as a strange texture hit his tongue. "Behave yourself." The man shifted, heel pressing into Cole's face. Reluctantly, he ran his tongue over rough flesh. Mack's heel, then his arch. He hesitated at the ball. "Cole." A note of warning. Cole folded. Mack's feet were always worse at his toes. The taste, the filth, the stench. It was all overpoweringly masculine. Today, though, he was lucky. Before he got too deep, the giant switched feet. He was mercifully free from the brute's toes. Finally, Mack's feet landed on either side of his chest. He laid back. There was a brief moment of reprieve. Cole stretched and gazed upwards, taking in the stillness. Mack switched the channel and lay back down. Cole glanced from side to side, then sat up. Bad idea. Mack's head snapped back down. "Boy."

"Uh. I thought I was done."

"I give you thirty seconds of break, and you think you're done? You call this clean? Get your tongue between my toes. Suck 'em till they shine. Lazy little fucker." Mack stopped being gentle. Giant feet tracked sweat and stink over Cole's face, damp toes forcing themselves into his mouth. "Clean. Now." Cole reluctantly got to work. Mack's irritation was slow to fade. Finally, Mack pulled his toe out of Cole's mouth.

"What do you say?" Cole wiped his mouth.

"Thank you, sir."

"Look me in the eye. What are you thankful for?"

"Uh. Your feet."

"What about them?" Cole winced.

"Uh. They're filthy? They stink?"

"And you fucking love it." Cole whined as a colossal foot filled his vision again. "You can stay there for a few minutes. Sort out that attitude." It was an unpleasantly arousing situation. The oppressive stench of sweat and heat drove him down. He tapped hesitantly at Mack's ankle, only to have a second foot subdue his wrist. He resigned himself to an extended stay. Mack finally shifted his foot down to his chest, lifting the weight on his face enough for him to breathe a sigh of relief. "Learned your lesson?"

"Uh. Yessir." A stern look. "Sorry."

"Hmm." A moment longer. Cole fidgeted beneath him. "I accept your apology." He made no attempt to move his foot. "I'm ordering Chinese. You want anything after you finish your work?"

"Come on, sir. Chinese doesn't get along with you. We sleep in the same bed." A dangerous look. Cole shut his mouth.

"Sorry. Satay chicken. Special fried rice if it's the same place as last time. Me-sized, please."

"Hmph." A toe shoved its way back into his mouth, pinning him back to the floor. "I'm making that rice a proper size." A pause. "You know what? It can all be my size. A man your size doesn't need his own." There was no real point in saying anything else. Anyway, a vast, stinking foot had settled back over his face, and the massive toes in his mouth didn't lend themselves to clear communication. Finally, Mack pulled out. Cole's spit shone on his skin. The brute grunted. "Alright, boy. You're done." Cole shook himself off, grimacing. Mack clicked his fingers above the sofa next to him. Cole climbed up. Mack pulled him into his side, a big hand spreading over his chest. "Cheeky little fucker."

"It was an honest mistake, sir."

"Hmm. Come here." Cole cuddled up.

"So I'm done properly?" A big hand tousled his hair.

"You know better than that, pup. You're done with my toes." Mack's hand went to the side, landing on his grimy socks. Cole looked up. A cantankerous eyebrow raise. "You got an attitude about this as well?"

"Um. No, sir." A beefy hand seized his jaw. "Good. Open up." Cole squinted at him. "It's not optional." Reluctantly, Cole opened his mouth. Giant fingers stuffed sweaty fabric into his mouth, covering his lips to force the sock in. The giant ruffled his hair affectionately as his sweat invaded Cole's mouth. "Taste good, boy?" Cole was already humiliated enough without attempting to speak. He hit weakly at Mack's wrist. A snort. "Don't try your luck." The hand lifted. Mack settled back again. Cole raised his hand warily to his face. "You sure you want to piss me off?" Cole let his arm fall back to his side. Mack was cuddly today. Whenever Cole tried to get up, a big hand hauled him back in with a warning growl. Cole gave up eventually, burying himself in the refuge of Mack's broad chest. An appreciative huff. A hand wrapped around his neck in gentle possession. Mack reached down between Cole's legs, idly feeling him up. "Always quick to get excited, aren't you?" He took another swig of his beer and yawned, tucking Cole's head beneath his neck. The TV buzz faded into the background as Cole tasted the tang of sweat on his tongue. Mack's colossal form shifted. A hand rubbed gently at the nape of his neck, and the time began to slip away. Finally, a vast hand pulled the massive sock from his mouth. "Alright, bud. Time for a check-in. Having a good time?"

"Pretty rank, sir. But sexy."

"Jesus, pup. You do love my filth. Today wasn't too much?" Cole inhaled, breathing in Mack's scent. It was a warm, comforting musk now, even with the taste of foot sweat lurking at the back of his throat.

"No. It's all hot." He glanced up. "We're done now, sir?"

"Yes, bud. The scene is over for the moment. You can relax." Cole looked down, tugging at the bootprint stained across his chest.

"Do I get to change my shirt?"

"Not a chance. You look good." Cole pulled a face, reaching for his phone.

"I forgot to ask you to get spring rolls."

"I remembered. It's coming. Settle down." Cole tried to get a look at Mack's phone. "That's an order." The brute turned the sound on the TV back up. The two of them fell into companionable silence. Cole lay down, his torso over Mack's lap. A burly hand played with his hair. A sudden vibration rang out from Mack's phone. "Food's gonna be a bit longer. There's been a delay."

Cole yawned and sat up. A mildly offended huff. "Where do you think you're going?" Cole headed into the kitchen, pulling a tin from beneath the sink. Leather polish, cloth and a buffer. He came back and crouched down, reaching for massive boots again. An affectionate smile above him.

"Good man."