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- Herausgeber: Eroticatorium
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
The swing of the hammer. The bristly beard, the body like a barrel of rope, the voice of thunderous majesty. The man in the mountain and the mountain in the man. Hammer Tipsmash is a half-dwarf, a protector, a worker, a wild ball of fury and lust, full of needs he could never acknowledge... or deny. Dewey Plumpbutter is a tailor, a lilting, flighty human with a shop of his own and an eye for the dwarven refugee who staggers into his village one sunny day. He never thought that fateful encounter would lead to the feelings that bubbled forth within him -- but does Hammer feel the same way? Is his dwarven half even capable of opening his soul to the love that could melt his steel heart? Their lives will never be the same! Hacklaus ad Ällai... MM erom novelette, no cheating, HEA, easy, breezy 14k words
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
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Contents
Title Page copy
Chapter One - Exile Into My Heart
Chapter Two - Nothing Hotter Than a Cold Room
Chapter Three - Such Sweet Sorrow
Chapter Four - This Darn Barn
Chapter Five - Hacklaus ad Ällai
Gaylord Fancypants Endmatter copy
How Do You Say I Love You in Dwarven?: An MM Erom Novelette
Gaylord Fancypants
Copyright 2018
Don't forget to check out the Gaylord Fancypants mailing list for more about his books, his fancy pants and his opinion on your D&D rules disputes!
http://eepurl.com/drHK4D
All characters depicted in sexual situations in this publication are eighteen years of age or older.
These stories are about fictional consenting adults engaging in taboo and controversial sexual acts. Nobody involved in the creation of this ebook, including authors, editors and models, support immoral or illegal acts in real life. Cover models are not intended to illustrate specific people and the content does not refer to models' actual acts, identity, history, beliefs or behavior. No characters depicted in this ebook are intended to represent real people.
Cover picture is licensed as Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license: File:Dwarf by BrokenMachine86.jpg. (2017, April 2). Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository. Retrieved 19:49, April 16, 2018 from https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Dwarf_by_BrokenMachine86.jpg&oldid=239539643.
CHAPTER ONE
Exile Into My Heart
A commotion arose on the outskirts of Lavendale, and Dewey Plumpbutter just sighed. It was probably the Greenwild twins fighting again. They did that a lot, and they were so big and strong that no one could stop them.
So Dewey focused instead on altering the crimson and gamboge suit he had been asked to tailor -- which looked ridiculous, no matter how it was cut. He did good work, but it was meticulous and time-consuming. He could tell that the gamboge shirt-tail had been sewn by someone unpracticed and clumsy, and he decided to undo the stitching entirely to fix it. He hadn't been hired to do that, but Dewey liked to do good work even if he wasn't being paid for it.
That was when he realized the brouhaha outside was something different. Nobody reacted too intensely when the Greenwild twins fought, because they did it all the time. Folks scattered out of the way, and moved their belongings away so the fat twins didn't crush anything important.
But what Dewey heard now was shouting, shocked gasps, nervous clucks and yelled orders. This was something else.
Dewey stepped out of his shop, and looked up the high street towards the noise. Townsfolk had gathered to watch as someone entered the village.
Not just one person, two, but one of them was carried by the other. And were they naked? Dewey couldn't tell.
He left his shop and went closer to the source of the noise, pushing past some of his neighbors to see.
Dewey noticed a few things all at once. First of all, the two people were dwarves -- or half-dwarves, technically, but Dewey wasn't sure about that yet. Second of all, the man was naked, or nearly so, dressed only in a tattered loincloth through which his bristly body hairs jutted. Third of all, the woman wore male dwarven clothing -- that one was easily solved: She wore the man's clothes because she had been stripped naked, and it was more important that she be closed than he.
Fourth of all, and perhaps most importantly of all, the man was sexy.
Dewey shivered and scratched at his neck, hoping to appear nonchalant. His mind raced, and his heart fluttered. His neighbors rushed forward to help -- the woman was injured, and the man had been carrying her for some distance.
But most of the people around went to her, since she was hurt and needed immediate assistance. The women all brought her to the town healer, while the men took a step back from the strange dwarf -- whose people were often hostile to the village of Lavendale.
The dwarf collapsed to his knees, gasping, sweat pouring down his face and matting his dense body hair to his skin. He had a big bushy beard that extended nearly out to his shoulders, which were as broad as a bull's. Since he was a half-dwarf, he was almost as tall as a human, at just under five feet, but he was thicker and stouter and more solid than any human Dewey had seen.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Dewey asked. It became apparent that none of the men who remained were going to see to him. They stood back, stiff and awkward, unsure about going so near an almost-naked man, worried that this whole thing might be a trap.
"I -- I -- Protect my sister, please, she is hurt-" The dwarf gasped and heaved.
"She's with the healer now. But you might need healing too, sir," Dewey said. He touched the dwarf's shoulder, making his muscle twitch and quiver beneath his fingertips. He was firm and warm and he made Dewey feel a surge of desire despite the gravity of the situation. "What's your name, stranger?"
"I am... Hammer. Hammer Tipsmash. Please... help-" He staggered to his feet, his arms and legs now so exhausted he thought he might fall apart like a poorly constructed doll. He had carried his sister, Carydenal, seven miles in his arms, down the mountain of his ancestors, over the rough terrain of the hillside, down into the verdant, overgrown valley in which the town of Lavendale sat. His arms burned, shoulders ached, and his lungs cried out for oxygen.
He tried to lean on the strange, effeminate human who had come to him, but Dewey was too small to keep him up. Hammer Tipsmash was built like his namesake hammer: solid, squat, nearly cylindrical, his muscles so tired now that holding him upright was like trying to lift a mass of firm cheese that had been warmed to nearly melting. His hairy, sweaty body smelled intensely of sour fruit and fog, a scent that Dewey got a mouthful of when Hammer collapsed atop him, after having gotten only a few yards down the road.
"Oof-! Human! Why do you prance beneath me?" The dwarf rolled off him and painfully brought himself back to his feet.
The situation was serious, so Dewey didn't know why he giggled. It was just hard to concentrate because it seemed so ridiculous. Dewey was smaller and weaker than most of the men who watched -- they were largely turnip farmers with shoulders as broad as Hammer's -- and yet they all stood back while Dewey tried to help Hammer. Hammer leaned on Dewey as though there was any chance Dewey could help him. And even through all that, it was still silly: Dewey had nowhere to take Hammer.
"Cease your donkey-like braying, human! I am no clown for you to laugh at," Hammer said, stroking his beard and trying to seem tough for the watching men.
"Sorry, you're heavy-" Dewey had just as much trouble regaining his breath as Hammer did, because he had to try to keep Hammer aloft. Dewey's head bumped into the bulge of dwarven manmeat in his loincloth, which made a few of the watching men snicker -- that was probably why they didn't get involved, Dewey thought, they were unwilling to touch a nearly naked dwarf.
Straight men, Dewey thought, were such idiots.
The healer was busy with Carydenal, and anyway, Hammer didn't seem to be injured beyond a few superficial cuts, scrapes and bruises. This town had no inn, no public guard, no relations with the dwarven kingdom of Magertes, no army, nor even an armory.
So where was Dewey helping Hammer go? Hammer had barely taken a few more steps before his knees gave out again.
Dewey scampered out from under Hammer before he collapsed once more, sprawling, out on the dusty road -- he had given up for the moment on remaining upright. He spreads his arms and legs wide, which bared his armpit and revealed thick tufts of coarse fur extending out from his loincloth.
"Uh, sir?" Dewey was now tired too, trying to catch his breath. He smiled and gently massaged Hammer's meaty chest. He wasn't as plump as a true dwarf. He was barrel-shaped and thick, without the pronounced ribs and stomach lines of the beanpole men of Lavendale, but he lacked the belly-fat and corpulent padding of the dwarven side of his family. "Sir...? I don't have anywhere to take you."
"Nevermind... You girlish gambersnatch!" Hammer bellowed the best he could now that he had mostly regained his breath, but the exertion made him cough. His voice was baritone and rumbly, a little growly like his throat was clogged with jagged rocks. He spat on the ground as he tried to get to his feet. "I need no assistance from the likes of you! I will... I will go to an inn, and get a room for my sister and I-" He stopped short, leaning forward on his own knees. He took a few deep breaths. With him bent over, he leaned forward, pressing his loincloth-clad ass and hairy thunder-thighs up towards Dewey's face.
A few of the humans watching snickered. Dwarves were very macho, so they laughed because Hammer Tipsmash would never, in a million years, for any reason, never ever bend over in front of a flamboyant human like Dewey. His ass was nearly bare, those great light brown orbs looming like a meal in front of Dewey's face. He only deigned to do it now because he was too exhausted to stand or to think about the position he was in.
Hammer coughed violently, making his ass and thighs shake. Sweat dripped onto the dirt ground.
"We have no inn here," Dewey said, his voice weak and lilting because he was both turned on and nervous about being the center of attention. He patted Hammer on the thigh as he came to his front. "Sorry-"
"No matter, I have no money for a room anyway. Perhaps someone has a stable that my sister and I can sleep in-"
"There is a temple to Gwendolyn here. Your sister will be invited there, I should expect," Dewey said.
"Gwendolyn?"
"She's a goddess, patron to wives and escaped women," Dewey said. "Sorry, I don't know your sister, I just assumed she is in need of protection. They let women stay there at the temple if they need it. But only women, sorry."
