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.Reputation	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 1945 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on Gullivers Travels by Jonathan Swift

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After I saved the life of the princess, they didn't quite know what to do with me. Obviously I couldn't go back in the petting zoo. Or whatever they called the cage on the table. But I couldn't physically live in one of the guest apartments.
Togkreff, the senior butler, seemed to mentally upgrade me from 'the weird creature that fell out of the sky' to 'honored guest.'
He had maids find an old dollhouse in storage and had it installed in a guest room. He carried me in on a platter and set it by the front door.
"I'm sorry if the room offends, sir," he apologized. "It's the smallest guest room in the Royal Wing. But I feared you would look ridiculous in the Grand Suite."
I stepped carefully down from the platter's brim and looked around. The bed was 120 feet away and a good 70 feet across. That was next to a fireplace that could have served as a hangar. Doors opened off two walls, each 80 feet tall, the doorknobs 30 feet up. The rug would have been difficult to cross in a 4x4.
Behind me was a wooden structure painted to resemble granite. The gargoyles on the garrets were the size of Dobermans. The front door didn't hinge, it had nails top and bottom and swung on a central axis like a secret passageway.
"Put the candle back," I muttered.
"Sir?"
"Sorry, Jeeves, old memories. Yes, well, this will be fine." He nodded and took a half a step back. "I, uh, I realize I present a difficulty, finding me quarters. I appreciate your efforts."
He gave me the first sincere smile I'd ever seen on that craggy face and nodded once more. Then he left.
I slung my flight bag on my shoulder and went to see the new digs. They were, well, historically accurate, let's say.
In Victorian England, dollhouses weren't really made to resemble scale models of real houses. They were replica containers to fill to the brim with miniature furniture. This one was crammed with seats and sofas and stoves and shelves and cabinets...
All brightly shining and smelling of some citrus. It was an effort to clamber around, through and over the mess to find the stairs.
First item on the to-do list, get a maid to clear the room out. Politely, of course, not to sound ungrateful. These people were touchy about protocol.
"Heh," I muttered as a grabbed the banister. "I'm comfortable enough with giants to call them people."
And of course, the top of the stairs ran smack into the ceiling. I kept going down the hall towards the back of the house. Maybe there was a servants' stairway? I was in the dining hall before I realized there was no back of the house.   Just an opening ot the building and the wall next to the table.
And hanging on that wall was a portrait of a rather judgmental giant woman. I felt that I'd failed her, somehow. Her disappointment seemed to follow me around the room. Or, table, anyway.
I looked up at the second floor. Then I shrugged and started stacking furniture to reach it.
I was just about high enough to touch the upper floor's carpet when the princess came to visit. Her nanny knocked and made sure I was dressed. Her head hovered over mine as she inspected me closely. Then she nodded and went to stand in the corner.
Devoo came in. I looked her over quickly. She'd been cleaned up, and looked a lot better than she had in the cave-in. All the gravel was washed off. Or, probably, sand to her.
And she'd stopped crying.
"Hello, sir!" she said. "I heard you got moved into the Princess Room!"
"This is your room?" I asked.
"No, it's the one closest to my suite." She giggled. "You can't be moved into my room! You're a male!"
"Thanks for noticing," I said. I put the ottoman down rather than heft it onto the pile. I figured that would be impolite. "You look better."
"Much, thanks," she said. "What are you doing to your furniture?"
I explained the problem, how the stairs didn't really have openings between floors. "I was going to pile furniture for now, and then get someone to make me a ladder..."
"Meircool!" Deyoo snapped. "Summon the royal carpenter. Mister Pierce needs his room adjusted on the instant. This is poor hospitality for one who saved our life."
I keep forgetting she's heir to the throne. She seems like a typical pre-teen until she explodes into majesty.
The nanny hopped to her feet, then paused before leaving. "Meircool, do you think I'm in danger of being ravaged by a mand the size of my compact?"
Miercool nodded and stepped out. The princess offered me her hand   "We'll leave the workers to their work. Tea?"
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In a couple days, I had the house set up the way I liked. Half the furniture was gone, the rest was distributed comfortably. And I'd been measured for several sets of clothing.
Dayoo had even had someone make me a ceramic fireplace. And the cutest little pile of twigs to burn in it. A grounds keeper was cutting branches up in a way that resembled chopped logs.
I had tea with Deyoo every day, and dinner with the royal family once a week.
But I started to wonder why there were no sycophants.
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About a month after I got movied into the new room, the King came into my room with a bottle of liquor, a glass, an eyedropper and a thimble.
He pulled a chair up to the dollhouse table and poured us drinks. We toasted and drank the health of the princess. Then the Queen. The Realm. His favorite horse.
Some time around the toast to the sergeant of the guard that manned the Market Gate, he asked what I really wanted.
"Out of life?" I asked.
"From me," he replied. "I've, uh... I've never really thanked you for saving Devoo's life in that cave."
"I like Devoo," I said. "I couldn't really have NOT saved her life."
"Still," he said. "You did. I owe you." He poured the drinks again.
"If you're serious, I've given it a lot of thought," I said. He nodded. "Now, don't take any offense, but..."
"I'm a king, not a diplomat," he said. "Soldier, father, engineer and I remember how Gulliver described England to my grandfather. You can't offend me."
"I want a whore," I said. He coughed, spewing alcohol across the floor by my table. "Can I explain?"
"You want a what?"
"Listen, I see royalty daily. But there's no one asking me to use my influence."
"You don't have any influence," he said slowly.
"Right.   But people shouldn't assume that. No one's asking me to drop their name at your table or take a side in a lawsuit, purely for discussion. Or suggesting Devoo really needs a pet monkey trained to dance to the flolly."
He looked thoughtful for a long moment. I guessed he noted others doing that sort of thing.
"I think it's because no one really sees me as a person. As a real man. Even, uh... Even you." He didn't move, certainly not to deny it. "Where I come from, I was kind of important. Not quite a captain of industry, but at least a second lieutenant.
"I figure if I, um, have a woman, people will at least see me in a better light."
"I can send you a concubine," he said slowly.
"No offense, sire, but I'd rather not be directly compared to you and your majestic manhood." That got a laugh out of him.
"So," he mused. "You want a reputation more than you want a woman." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, the clicks of his fingernails sounding like gunshots. "Not a common whore, but not someone dedicated to a patron. Someone you can order about, but not too discreet to be of use. And not an overly perfumed woman."
"I like perfume," I started to say. He cut me off with a guillotine chop of his hand.
"Devoo says you can smell flowers on her hours after she comes back from the garden. With your sensitive noise, you'll want someone who bathes to reduce sweat and soil, not someone who pours on another layer of expensive smell to cover the bad smell."
"Oh. Yes, I suppose...."
"I'd ask if you were a leg man or an ass man, but you're more interested in her mouth." He winked at me.
"Well, yeah, and in my case, the question is if I like ankles or toes." He laughed, toasted me and 'my immagestic manhood' and promised to see to it.
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A couple of weeks later, the Queen took the princess to visit the Queen-Mother. Grandma Royalty was convinced I was just a mutated splacknuck, a kind of local vermin primate.
I didn't make the trip, because her staff was on orders to stomp me flat. She was certain my wit would breed true and greatly increase the troubles offered by the little beasts.
Devoo tried to be very diplomatic about the risks and the reasons, hoping I wouldn't hate her forever for leaving me behind. I assured her that her father would find something to keep me occupied.
An hour after they were gone, maids bustled about. They changed the unused seats on the bed, scrubbed the tub and toilet I'd only seen once, dusted and swept. They laid out a very soft robe for me and built up a fire.
After lunch, there was a knock on the door. A beautiful woman came in hesitantly, looking all around the room with wonder.
"Posh," she said.
"And largely unused," I replied. She gave a little shriek of surprise, staggering back from the dollhouse. "Sorry," I said quickly.
"Oh. I just... I haven't ever been near..." She stepped closer and looked down at me. I took her in, too.
She was a brunette with long hair hanging over her shoulders. Nondescript clothes covered what looked like a generous figure. Not too much skin was showing. A pity, since her cleavage would have been right there before me, like a drive-in movie screen.
"I'm Pequette. I guess we-" she was saying when two maids came bustling in. They pushed Pequette towards the bathroom. Four men came behind them with steaming buckets of water.
"Wow," I muttered, "I thought the king meant a woman that bathed frequently, not immediately before. I wondered if we were going to have to break in the middle, to wash off the exertions of foreplay.
They started the fire, dimmed the lights and left. I was alone. Pequette game out.
She was draped in a filmy white robe. There was a shift beneath it, just visible through the fabric, and a bra peeking through the opening of her robe.
She sat by the dollhouse table and smiled. "So, um, I guess that what you want is... Sex?"
"Yes," I said. "I, uh, asked for you to be hired. I, uh. I want to be in charge. So you do what I tell.. What I ask."
"Little man wants to be in charge of the big woman?" she said with a little laugh.
"It's the safety thing," I said. "And sort of an ego thing," I said with a smile. "But I don't really want you doing anything without my instruction, okay? Surprises could be...dangerous."
"Ah," she nodded. "But there's one thing."
"What?"
"I'm a professional, right?"
"That's...kinda the point," I agreed.
"Then trust me." Her hand came close, finger out. She touched my shoulder. The fingertip stroked my arm, dropping down to my hips.
"There's something we have to get out of the way." Her knuckle brushed my front. "Oooh, a nice hard-on."
"Well, you are beautiful," I said.
She took a deep breath. Her breasts rose up a bit, pushing against her robe. "The giant breasts don't hurt," she said with another smile.
"No, they do not," I agreed. "Now, what do we have to get out of the-" Her hand closed around my waist, pinning my arms to my sides.
A fingernail gently, so gently caressed my chest and pushed my robe over my sounders, down my arms.
She moved her thumb to let the slack drop down and my robe parted. My erect cock sprang out. She lifted me to her face.
"Wait, wait," I said.
"Shhh. Professional," she whispered. A giant whisper, her voice still made my skull vibrate, but her breath flowed over me like an ephemeral lover, peeking in intimate places and touching me everywhere.
I was tipped over slightly. Her nose brushed my shoulder and then she lay a kiss on my chest. Gentle, moistened, there was the slightest tug of suction.
Her mouth moved and found me, found my hard cock. I protested slightly, but not too sincerely. Her tongue slid out, licked left, right, then hesitantly touched me. Her lips closed around me.
I was so small, next to her, my dick didn't make it all the way through her lips, into her mouth. I was just trapped between the muscles and she worked me.
Slowly, lovingly, the tightest and firmest embrace I'd ever felt... The surface was smooth, soft and wet. And she smelled of perfume. Just a light touch of it. Not enough to hide...her.
I could smell her. She was savory and sweet, an aura of a sort of flavored salt came off her. It was washed away with ever breath as her nose poured it over my back and chest, swirling my hair and warming my skin.
Her fingertips supported me at back, head, hips and feet. I didn't have to do anything but lay in her grip, my whole body an erogenous zone. Her eyes were closed to slits, but watching me. I stroked her cheek and looked back.
My back arched as I got close, then she squeezed harder, pushing me up into her face. And she hummed. The vibrations in her jaw came into me, shook my bones and tickled my balls and I screamed, coming hard against her.
My whole spine twisted, every muscle in my body tensed and tight. I hadn't come like this since I was a teenager. She held me in place until I was done, empty, drained and drooping.
She smiled and my cock dropped free, chilled by the exposure to room air. "That was..." I gasped.
"Now," she said, "we have that out of the way. You can think about the next one." I felt movement. "You'll be in charge, not the Little Lord and Master." Her fingertip tapped my thigh indicating, but not touching, my softening, sensitive dick.
She finished removing my robe and set me down on a pillow. I lay back and watched as she stripped nude.
"Someone suggested maybe I should dress in a mesh body suit," she said playfully. "Or string guy ropes so you can scramble over me like a sailor." Her hands cupped her breasts and jiggled them. Waves rippled across the acreage of skin. "But I thought, maybe you'd like more of a challenge."
She giggled and lay down on the bed. She was on her side, propped up on one elbow. I slid off the pillow and stood under her dangling breast.
The nipple was about the size of my head. The dark areola stretched in an oval about as long as I was tall. I tore my eyes from it to glance up at her face. She smiled encouragingly. I stood on tiptoe and kissed the nipple.
This close, this big, I saw that there were different skin colors there. The nipple was dark, but there were lighter colors down in the crevices. I pushed close and licked.
I used fingers and tongue to outline the lightest colors. Pequette sucked air in and her nipple stood erect.
What was weird for me was that it pushed me away from her breast. I pushed harder against it and started to use my teeth.
"Oooh," Pequette sighed. "Can you reach the other side?"
"No," I said. "But if you roll back..." Her hand cupped me from behind, sandwiching me against her breast. She rolled back, leaving me kneeling over her nipple.
Her breast was flattened out over her chest. The areola's shape was more circular. I looked over at the other side. She lifted her arms to push the breasts together and I crawled over.
I went back and for th a few times, teasing and touching, nuzzling and nibbling. On my fourth pass, she dropped her arms as I was in the middle. I rolled down to her sternum. "Hey!" I protested. The slope was too steep to crawl up, the skin too smooth to climb.
Now I needed the damned catsuit.
"I was thinking I could push my breasts against you," she said. "While you're down there."
"I'd smother," I said. I turned to look over at her face, resting on the pillows. She regarded me with a mischievous smile.
"Not for that long," she said. "But would you like to try it? For a second?"
"Maybe two," I said with my own smile. With no further warning, the two flesh walls beside me slammed against me.
Her skin was relatively soft for a giant, but it was still giant. The physical sensation of touching her was like feeling soft-sided luggage. I could detect individual pores and small hairs, even here. And the body heat, kinda like bouncing in a moon-walk with a furnace.
But in my head... The knowledge that I was getting a whole-body titty fuck worked it's magic on me. She wiggled and jiggled the breasts. I felt the mass move against me, flow over me.
Pressure crossed me in waves. I started to feel aroused again.
The breasts parted for a moment. I gasped quickly, taking in fresh air, laced with her smell. There was a giggle, that I heard from my hears and felt shaking up from my feet.
Then the light went away and the breasts closed over me again. She did this twice more. Then paused on the third air break. "Do I feel your Lordster? Already?"
"Oh, God, yes!"
"Then we move on?" she asked. I heard rustling and turned around. Her knees were rising. Spreading. I started walking towards her pussy.
Her hands lowered to frame her pussy. When I got there, I knelt, running my hands through her hair. There was a light sheen of sweat on the skin between the hairs. I breathed in her scent. Then crawled further. I slid down the front of her pussy. Her curled fingers were like stirrups as I lay against her.
"And now you fuck me," she said. But there was a problem.
I pushed against her, but couldn't make headway. I couldn't push into the lips. I reached down to spread them, reaching in, trying to get some lubrication.
There was a giggle and the hand I was standing on move. "I'll get that," she said.
I was held up above her leg. I watched as Pequette ran a finger along her lips, then slipped it inside.
I watched, and listened, as she liberally spread herself over her lips. Then she lifted me up a bit and wiped her fingers over me, from chest to knees.
She blew me a kiss and then spread my legs, wiping herself over my inseam and balls.
Then she lowered me back down, pressed against the face of her pussy. Her thumbs were on my shoulders, my feet were on her fingertips. She dandled me a bit, bounding up and down against her. Sliding and slithering, I slipped gently inside.
I couldn't really pump, but she gave me long, such long vertical strokes against her, in her. Her warm soft lips flowed over my body, chin, chest, cock and legs.
I reached up and parted her hairs, laying kisses on her clit as I could reach it.
"Ooh!" she moaned. "And what have we here?"
"Just a... Just a human custom," I said. Her thumbs pressed harder, and her fingers stopped bouncing as far, keeping my head centered where it was. And her moans shook the entire bed.
I took it as a compliment, knowing there was a good chance it was just an act. It was her job to satisfy me, I reminded myself. Then her strokes sped up, fingers on the back of my knees started to push me in. She pumped me up and down, deeper in on each slide down.
I tried to protest, sputtering as my head came clear. She either didn't hear me or didn't care. I got stuffed down in, deep, wiggling for all I was worth to get up for a breath of air.
The kicking and grasping seemed to excite her more and more.
Then suddenly she pinched me about the hips and yanked me into the air. I saw her body pass by underneath as she drew me to her face. I heard a low groan, 'Oh Baby,' I think it was, then I was slapped across her mouth.
Lips and tongue worked on me, one hand pressed me in place. Her other hand made loud squishy sounds as she brought herself off.
Her squeal of glee burst up past me as her licks locked against my ribs and she sucked hard. I got a hickey that lasted for two weeks. I was starting to fear it was a permanent tattoo before it just turned to a bruise.
But right then and there, I just grabbed at her chin and caught her nose inside my elbow and came, shooting into the hollow space of her mouth.
Pequette's other hand came up and around me and she cuddled me to her cheek. I stroked it gently, gasping from exhaustion.
"Try again in an hour, baby?" she asked. I grunted something. She moved me down to her breasts and hugged me between them. I curled up in her cleavage and went to sleep.
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"And that, Gentlemen, is how you fuck a giant woman." The other card players laughed and toasted me with their drinks. I lifted my own stein, formed from a seed's shell, and returned the toast.
The king's advisors had invited me to their weekly game. His majesty had loaned me some money and Togkreff taught me the basics.
I wasn't too worried about the money. I was very careful about answering questions, though. These guys were feeling me out, seeing how much of a threat I was to the status quo.
It felt like I was fitting in, although I had to figure out a way to smoke their cigars without a bellows, a torch and a helmet....
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