Chapter Text
You lock up your potion shop several hours early, looking up and down the street surreptitiously making sure no one you know is watching, before hurrying a few doors down to the local tinkerer's workshop.
The bell over the door rings, announcing your arrival.
"I'll be there in a minute!" Jorjen calls out from the back room. You hear the clanking of metal tools and a few curses (obscene rather than magical in nature) before the tall human makes his way into the room.
"Ms. Lylah!" he exclaims, "It's always a pleasure to see you. Did Sweigan send you in for something?"
"No!" you squeak, having to crane your neck to look up at the human, "I came here on my own business. I heard that you make-" you can't help but glance over your shoulder at the door. Even the thought of being overheard brings a pink tint to your cheeks. "I wanted to commission a device from you."
Jorjen crosses the room and turns the lock before saying casually, "I'm going to close up shop early too. Would you care for some tea?"
The two of you make small talk while Jorjen busies himself with several complicated looking devices. Personally, you think the tea you make in a kettle over your wood stove is good enough, but you suppose you can't expect a tinkerer to do things the simple way. You begrudgingly admit to yourself that it's delicious.
When you finally gather the courage to tell Jorjen what brings you to his shop, he spits out his meticulously brewed tea all over the table top.
"You want what? No. No you don't, Lylah. No one ever wants that. It's only something poor souls who are desperately in debt want and it's usually that or death. Personally, I'd choose death."
"It's not going to be like that, Jorjen! I don't want to sell it, I want to give it to Sweigan so we can still-you know-be together when he's off adventuring!"
"We aren't talking about a romantic gift idea, Lylah! This literally giving away a part of your body."
"It's Sweigan, Jorjen! He's the sweetest guy I know. I owe him my life!"
"He's an adventurer," Jorjen says with a hand wave, " He's saved all our lives at one point or another. Supposedly. That doesn't mean you owe him."
"That's not why I'm doing this!" you say exasperated, "I just mean he's a good guy. A hero! He'll take good care of it. I know he will."
"He's an orc," Jorjen says plaintively.
"And what's that supposed to mean? My mother is a full blooded halfling. I thought you better than a racist, Jorjen!" Humans, you should have known!
"I'm not a racist, Lylah," he says, sounding exasperated himself, "but there are certain... biological facts about orcs, certain pieces of anatomy, that-"
"Jorjen!" you interrupt, "We've been dating for six months. You think I haven't slept with him? I know about all that!"
"I would certainly hope you have, given what you're asking me for!"
"I know what I'm asking for! He was gone for two weeks and it nearly drove me crazy!"
Jorjen lets out an amused laugh. "You can't go two weeks without orc cock?"
"Jorjen!"
"I still don't think you really know what you're getting yourself in to. To start, you'd have to get naked for me, you know? At least from the waist down."
"Yeah," you say, though you don't sound as confident as you'd like. You hadn't been looking forward to that part.
"And you understand that once its created, whether you gift it or sell it, you no longer have any legal recourse if the device's owner does something you don't like with it."
"Yes!" you say starting to get frustrated. Why does any of this matter. It's Sweigan you're talking about.
"And when Sweigan asks, you're going to tell him this was all your idea and that I tried talking you out of it but you insisted, right?"
You sit up straighter. "Really, Jorjen? You'll do it? Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Save your thanks. You might take them back later. Get on the table and lift your skirt," Jorjen says, clapping his hands together.
A few hours later you leave Jorjen's shop with a rectangular box under one arm, unburdened of a good deal of money as well as some of your self respect. You like it when Sweigan plays with you, but Jorjen's cold metal rods had been uncomfortable. He had to cast a hold spell over you to paint the magical glyphs around your asshole. His delicate brushstrokes had tickled so much, you couldn't help but squirm.
You walk home briskly, avoiding the eyes of your neighbors. When you finally get inside, you fall back against the door out of breath.
"What's got you looking so suspicious?" Sweigan asks from his chair at the kitchen table.
"Nothing!" you insist, hiding the black box behind your back. He raises his eyebrow, amused at the obvious lie. Your shoulders sink and you pull the box out from behind your back. "Its something I got for you. A surprise."
"Well you've missed my birthday and midwinter isn't for another five months. What's the special occasion?"
"It's actually for when you have to leave again," you admit. Your eyes drop to the large map Sweigan has spread out over your table, newspapers from the city and hand written letters are scattered on top of it. "You don't think that will be anytime soon, do you?"
Sweigan looks down at his mess of papers and sighs. "I hope not. There are signs of something bad afoot. People are going missing again, magical items being stolen, there's even a nasty rumor they're trying to bring the Dark Lord back, but so far it's nothing my old party can't handle without me."
He reaches out to you, easily lifting you and pulling you into his lap. Your present ends up discarded on the table. You giggle happily to be swept up in Sweigan's arms, forgetting your fears for a moment as he pulls you in for a kiss.
Never fall in love with an adventurer, your mother always said. Growing up, the words had always been said about your absent father, but you'd heard them a lot more since you'd started dating Sweigan. You'd always dismissed the sentiment as the bitter words of a scorned woman, but their truth had rung true for you a few months back when Sweigan was called away to aid in a rescue mission of some foreign princess who was kidnapped by the Dark Lord's consort.
Hadn't that been exactly how the two of you met? You'd been kidnapped and Sweigan had saved you, defeating the Dark Lord in the process. Even if you'd taken your mother's advice as words to live by, you don't think you could have stopped yourself from falling for Sweigan. He'd stepped in the way of a blow meant to kill you. He'd walked off with a bruise and told you it was nothing. You were irrevocably changed.
You'd been certain this princess would fall for him too. He'd forget about you and you'd never see him again, just like your-
You're pulled away from your spiraling thoughts when Sweigan's hand slips under your panties and his large index finger circle's the rim of your asshole.
"Still loose from last night?" he whispers against your lips. He takes a finger into his mouth, wetting it with his spit before bringing it back to your hole. You bite your lip as he pushes the first knuckle inside.
Sweigan's right, you are opening up a lot easier than usual. It's not long before he's working a second of his thick fingers into your hole. You wonder if that's because of the spell Jorjen placed on your asshole earlier. You brush the thought aside, not wanting to linger too long on the unpleasant memory in this moment.
Sweigan lifts you, setting your ass on the table. Papers scatter, but Sweigan only has attention for your hard cock straining against your silk panties.
Sweigan runs a finger up and down the length of your dick, teasing you. "You say this is supposed to be big for a halfling?"
"It is big for a halfling! And respectably average for a human too." you say indignantly, though your smile betrays your pleasure at his words. Almost as many halfling girls have dicks as don't, but few to none have one as big as yours-or so you'd been told by a few intimidated halfling men.
Sweigan pulls aside your panties and takes you in his hand. You can't deny how small you look there. You don't even manage to stretch all the way across his palm. Fuck! Why does that make you throb in his grip?
You reach out to grab one of his tusks, trying to tug his face down between your thighs. He chuckles at your eagerness and easily takes both your cock and balls into his mouth, sucking and tonguing them as his fingers slip back inside of you. Just where you wanted him.
The third finger he works inside is a stretch. He starts hitting your prostate with each thrust and you feel yourself climbing towards your orgasm.
You whimper as he pulls back. "I want to be inside of you," he says, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"Please," you beg, feeling empty at the sudden loss of him.
It's still a struggle to get his cock to fit, even after all the work he's put into opening you up. You grimace in pain. He moves to pull out of you, doubtlessly planning on spending another ten minutes opening you up on his fingers, but you cling to him tight.
"Please, I need you in me. All of you."
He growls and pushes another inch inside you. Your cock flags and tears come to your eyes, but still you hold on to Sweigan.
He chuckles. "Such a greedy little thing," he observes, tracing the bulge his cock makes in your stomach. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "This is a big cock, baby."
He pushes in another inch and it feels like he hits bottom, though you know from experience that you can take more.
He gives you time to adjust, kissing you through your discomfort and running his thumb over your now flaccid cock. It's not long before you're humping into his hand and grinding your ass down on him. It hurts exquisitely. You're getting close to orgasm again when Sweigan's cock finds its way around the curve in your bowels and sinks another painful inch into you.
You're whimpering again and clinging to Sweigan for comfort. He runs his large hand up and down your back to sooth you.
"I'll take it slow, baby," he croons.
"How much?" you grit out through clenched teeth.
"About half," he replies, looking down to where your bodies meet. When his eyes return to yours, they're dark with restrained hunger. "Do you want more?"
You nod, biting your lip, and he slowly starts sinking into you. You can't always manage to take this much of him, but when you do, it's always difficult. It's hard adjusting to having something this deep. It feels like your guts have to straighten out to accommodate him. It feels unnatural. Your body wasn't meant to take something this size.
At the thought, you start trembling around his cock. You're not orgasming-you're in too much pain and your cock isn't even hard-but it feels like you're on the edge, like if you could just get a bit more stimulation, you'll be tumbling over the edge.
Sweigan rubs circles over your flaccid nub of a cock, but it's still not enough.
"I've known orcs with bigger clits than this," Sweigan says mockingly and you're falling over the precipice, cumming on his fingers.
Sweigan chuckles to himself, when you've come down from your high. "I can't believe how much you like being teased over your cute little dick."
"Shut up!" you complain, swatting at his chest playfully. He brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your cum off them.
You both startle when you hear three loud knocks on the front door.
"Go away!" Sweigan calls out.
"I'm sorry Sweigan." It's E'legrieal, one of Sweigan's friends.
Sweigan swears viciously in Orcish and then calls out, "Come back in an hour!"
"Okay, but we need to leave in an hour. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't big, Sweigan. The Dark Lord's consort has grown stronger than us. She nearly killed Yngrid in our last fight, we had to run for our lives."
"Come back in an hour and I'll be ready!" Sweigan says angrily.
Your moment with Sweigan is shattered. His cock has gone soft in your ass. He makes to pull out of you but you hold tight to him again.
"Please, don't leave," you beg.
"I have to. They need me," he says regretfully.
"I need you. Let me come with you then."
"We've talked about this, I'm not putting you in danger."
"What if I get kidnapped again while you're gone?"
"Baby, you know we drove the Dark Lord's minions out of the halfling lands after we killed him. This is the safest place for you. It would just put you in danger to come with us."
"I don't want you to go," you say, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I know baby," he says, cupping your face in his big hands, his own voice rough with emotion, "I don't want to go either." He pulls you against his chest and holds you while you cry.
You spend most of your last hour together like that, whispering to each other, neither of you wanting to let go. When his party returns, he hurries to pull the last of his flaccid cock out of you and hastily stuff a few belongings in a rucksack before giving you a long kiss goodbye.
He's mounting his giant orcish draft horse when you remember your surprise present for him. You rush back inside to grab it, pushing the box into his hands without explanation.
Then he's gone.