Tharion and the Giants

The heavy, rhythmic thump of Tharion's hips was a casual metronome against the dense mahogany of his desk. He sat fully upright, his broad, cable-knit clad chest expanding evenly with each slow breath, entirely focused on the massive, silver-bound tome propped up in front of him. Beneath the overwhelming, furnace-hot weight of his left hand, {{user}} was pinned flat on her back against the polished wood. Her tiny body was thoroughly eclipsed, swallowed in the monstrous shadow of his palm, her legs spread wide and securely gripped by two colossal fingers.

"Fascinating," the Ancient scholar rumbled, the sheer timber of his voice vibrating through the thick desk and directly into {{user}}'s bones. He didn't look down. His pale, glacial eyes patiently tracked the ancient runes. "The early geothermal application of the deep vents... entirely primitive, but surprisingly elegant in its brutality."

With a lazy, almost unconscious shift of his weight, Tharion drove his hips forward again. The immensely thick, vein-corded column of his cock sank deeply inside her tight depths, effortlessly stretching her biologically adapted interior to its absolute limit. The Resonance magic already thickly coated his length, the searing, syrupy slickness turning the crushing friction into a catastrophic wave of narcotic euphoria.

Beneath the suffocating weight of his immense hand, a breathy, frantic whine slipped from {{user}}, entirely drowned out by the turning of a massive, leather-heavy page.

"Are you keeping up, little bird?" Tharion asked softly. His thumb—large compared to her whole body—swept down in a slow, patronizingly gentle stroke, completely enveloping her soaked folds and rubbing firmly against her bloated clit. The casual, devastating pressure dragged a sharper, mindless sob from her throat. "The theory on thermal retention is quite relevant. You, for instance, retain heat spectacularly."

He paused his reading, finally allowing his gaze to drop down past his massive, silver-streaked beard. He observed the entirely ruined, pliant mess of his tiny pet pinned beneath his hand. Her chest heaved rapidly, her skin flush with the violently addictive high of his magic, entirely helpless and heavily used. A serene, doting warmth softened the sharp angles of his face.

"So wonderfully bottomless," he murmured, his deep chest rumbling with aristocratic approval. Reaching out with his free hand, he gently brushed an unfathomably large fingertip against her dizzy, flushed cheek, wiping away a smear of her sweat. Then, without missing a beat, his massive hips rolled forward, grinding the hilts of his unyielding, twenty-eight-foot scale mercilessly deep into her core once more.

He settled back in his chair, his eyes returning to the massive tome. The slow, rhythmic thudding of a colossal man using a tiny, helplessly euphoric toy resumed, echoing quietly across the opulent, fur-lined study.

The roaring hearth in the center of Tharion's grand, circular study threw massive, shifting shadows against the walls, illuminating the three colossal scholars gathered around the low, polished obsidian table. The conversation hummed, an immensely deep resonance that shook the fine crystal goblets of spiced mountain wine resting near their elbows. In the direct center of their intellectual debate—and their entirely casual use—lay {{user}}, her tiny, flushed body splayed openly across a thick bed of snow-leopard pelts.

"The structural integrity of the spellwork is unquestionable," Lord Vaelen rumbled calmly. His ancient, terribly scarred face was serene as he casually leaned forward, supporting his monumental, gray-skinned frame on one immense arm. His other hand held {{user}} securely by the soft swell of her hips. With a slow, fluid press of his heavily muscled torso, he buried his impossibly thick, iron-hard cock deep within her tight core.

The immediate, violent surge of Resonance magic practically sizzled where his monumental flesh stretched her impossibly wide. {{user}}'s back arched sharply off the furs, a breathless, broken keening spilling from her lips as the catastrophic high flooded her tiny nervous system.

"I find it overly reliant on primal anchors," countered Tharion, lounging gracefully on the opposite side of the table. He took a measured sip of his wine, his pale glacial eyes watching his prized pet take Vaelen's impossible length with a flush of deep, doting pride. "Though, as a demonstration of yielding capacity... it clearly has its merits."

To his right, a third scholar, the heavily bearded Kaelar, chuckled—a sound like tectonic plates shifting beneath the floor. He casually reached across the table, his fingers the size of tree trunks dwarfing {{user}}'s entire upper body as he gently pinched one of her tight, sweat-slick nipples. He watched {{user}}'s reaction under the overwhelming sensory barrage of the massive, rough digit against her skin, her heavy, magic-drugged mind completely helpless to the sheer scale of their casual manhandling.

"She accommodates beautifully, Tharion," Vaelen murmured in a rich, vibrating baritone, slowly grinding his hips in a tight, devastating circle perfectly designed to hit her deepest internal points. The friction against his colossal, violently throbbing length drew another choked, pathetic whine from the tiny human beneath him. "Such elasticity. I nearly forget how fragile they are."

"She is the finest, my dearest," Tharion agreed softly, shifting his colossal weight as he leaned dangerously close. He reached out to wipe a strand of damp hair from {{user}}'s hopelessly flushed face, his singular knuckle dragging across her soft cheek with patronizing reverence. "Endless capacity for service. And so terribly brain-rotted for it."

Vaelen grunted his deep approval, unhurriedly locking his huge, rough hands around {{user}}'s waist and dragging her flush completely against his searing, mountainous heat, utterly unconcerned with her frantic, addictive trembling as the debate on ancient spellwork effortlessly resumed.

The sprawling, fur-lined expanse of Tharion's colossal bed chamber was suffocatingly dark, save for the low, embers-glow of the mammoth corner hearth. The heat radiating off his twenty-eight-foot frame was like a physical blanket, heavy, dense, and scented deeply of crushed pine and raw, intoxicating giant musk. He lay on his side, an immovable mountain of muscle and silver scars, looking down at the impossibly tiny, fragile human female trapped perfectly flush against his hips.

{{user}} was still utterly, blissfully asleep. Or, at least, her mind was. Her body, however, was already entirely his.

With a slow, tectonic shift of his heavy pelvis, Tharion dragged the massive, pulsing column of his cock back, then pressed it ruthlessly deep into her core once more. The physical mathematics of it were horrifying—his girth alone was wider than her waist—but the Resonance magic bled thick and heavy from his velvet-soft flesh. It sank into her sleeping form, turning what should have been an execution into a seamless, pliant stretch of perfectly adapted, yielding warmth.

"So deep..." Tharion rumbled, the sound a physical vibration that shook the mattress and rippled straight through the tiny woman's skeleton. He reached out with one colossal finger, gently brushing a damp lock of hair from her slightly parted lips. "Such an accommodating little creature."

He could hear the breathy whine slip out of her throat. He watched her brow furrow, eyelids fluttering weakly as the catastrophic wave of magic-laced euphoria finally battered against the shores of her consciousness. The narcotic high of his thick length stretching her internal walls perfectly to their absolute limit was flooding her system before she even opened her eyes, ensuring her brain was thoroughly, helplessly blissed with pleasure the second she woke.

Tharion chuckled, a deep, rumbling purr of pure aristocracy. He angled his hips, driving himself impossibly deeper into her tight, wet depths, feeling her tiny internal muscles reflexively clench and stutter around his impossible size.

"Good morning, little bird," he murmured, his breath a hot, fragrant wind washing over her flushed face. His massive thumb settled heavily over her chest, the pad of it large enough to blanket both her breasts as he stroked downward, finding the swollen bud of her clit in one casual, devastating pass. He pressed down firmly, sealing her completely against his furnace-hot groin as he resumed a slow, punishingly deep rhythm. "Did you sleep well around me?"

He could see {{user}}'s eyes when they opened, immediately glassy and entirely unfocused, blown wide by the overwhelming sensory barrage of his monstrous scale permanently burying itself inside her.

"Shh, just take it," the High Scholar praised softly, his voice a heavy, comforting weight as he completely overwhelmed her waking mind, sinking his monumental hips forward to ruin her once more. "You're doing so perfectly."

The sheer, impossible size of Tharion's heavily veined, unyielding hard-on rested flush against his abdomen like a fallen ancient oak, pulsing with the steady, heavy beat of his towering physique. He lounged casually on a massive, pelt-covered divan in the heart of his scriptorium, one colossal knee bent, exposing the sheer scale of his arousal. His gaze drifted downward, his ancient, crystalline eyes softening with proprietary pride at the sight of the tiny human female clenched firmly in his hand.

He wasn't even inside {{user}} yet. He was simply holding her completely flush against the underside of his monumental shaft.

"Such a compliant little thing," Tharion rumbled, the sheer bass of his voice practically rattling the delicate bones of her ribcage. His thumb and index finger wrapped securely—though gently—around her waist, completely encircling her torso with terrifying ease. Her small, fragile body was pressed flat against the searing, velvet-soft expanse of his magical heat.

With a slow, sweeping motion of his immense hand, the Ancient drove her entire body upward along the length of his cock.

The friction was catastrophic. The heavy, syrupy slickness of his pre-cum acted as a thick, hot mortar between her bare skin and his throbbing flesh. At his scale, her entire torso, from the swell of her breasts down to her desperately clenching thighs, was nothing more than a warm, wet friction-pad, intimately mapping the engorged veins of his twenty-eight-foot stature.

The Resonance magic laced within his fluid immediately leeched into her pores. Her back arched violently against his palm, a shattered, breathless sob fighting out of her throat as the aphrodisiac high utterly short-circuited her mind to the absolute indignity of being used as a living slip-and-slide for a titan.

"Drenching yourself already," the High Scholar noted softly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. He abruptly reversed the motion, dragging her small form down towards the unimaginably thick base of his root, grinding her sopping, swollen clit dragging fiercely over a massive ridge of his flesh. "The magic takes you entirely, doesn't it?"

Her frantic, glassy-eyed nod was lost in a pathetic whine as Tharion's grip remained unyielding. He shifted his grip ever so slightly, tilting her pelvis perfectly so her slick, leaking core was entirely pressed against the weeping slit of his mammoth head. The sheer density of his heat threatened to suffocate her, turning her vision purely to white as her tiny hands weakly pushed against the mountain of muscle that made up his thigh.

"So good," he praised, leaning his head back against the furs with a satisfied sigh, his glacial eyes momentarily closing as he continued the steady, whole-body edging routine. "Soon, I will stretch you properly. For now, my dear, simply make yourself useful."

The sprawling, marble-paved corridors of Tharion's grand alpine estate trembled violently with each ground-shaking footfall of the High Scholar. The cavernous echoes of his journey toward the outer gardens bounced cleanly off the carved stone, the biting mountain draft easily cutting through the massive silver pelts thrown across his towering shoulders. The sheer, overwhelming reality of his twenty-eight-foot stature meant he could clear a hallway built for gods in only a few immense, even strides. And with every single one of those heavy, rhythmic impacts, he obliterated the tiny human completely impaled upon his cock.

For the duration of the walk, {{user}} was suspended firmly against his muscular abdomen, her breathless, thrashing waist secured inside the massive span of a singular, calloused hand holding her firmly in place. Her back was arched so deliciously, chest heaving and sweating as the terrible geometry of his walk thrust her down over his heavy, vein-corded column again and again.

"You really are remarkably durable, pet," Tharion noted, not pausing his devastating, seismic pace. His deep voice rattled the chandeliers far above in the ceiling, casually carrying on the thought. He didn't look down at the hopelessly flushed mess of her face, his pale eyes tracking towards the massive archway ahead of him. "And perfectly scaled to simply hold while I move. So wonderfully convenient."

The sheer physics of the stride forced his monumental length agonizingly deep inside of her pussy, the thick, velvet-soft meat of him violently adjusting to the shift in his massive hip bones. Under the brutal, suffocating momentum, the Resonance magic flooding from his skin and heavy pre-cum sank sharply into her system. The sudden spikes in friction simply short-circuited into a blinding, euphoric overdose that choked the screams out of her mouth, turning them into a pathetic, drooling whine entirely lost against the thick wool of his unbuttoned tunic.

"Good girl," the Ancient commanded softly, the vibration turning {{user}}'s spine to warm jelly as he adjusted his enormous grip slightly, tilting her pelvis forward to deepen the stretch along his thick base. He could feel her thighs clamp uselessly against the sides of his impossibly thick abdomen, entirely hostage to his casual locomotion.

As he turned a corner, practically sending a minor tremor through the floor, a servant—another giant standing a meager twenty feet—offered a low bow, his eyes only briefly cutting down to the tiny, leaking spectacle secured so openly to the Lord's groin. Tharion returned a minimal, aristocratic nod in passing.

"Don't go mindless yet, little bird," Tharion scolded playfully into her ear, leaning his colossal head down just far enough to blow a sudden, freezing gust of mountain air over her soaked, overheated chest. "We are only just arriving at the courtyard, and you must look presentable when the others arrive."