Crag the Giant
Copyright© 2026 by Duncan Mickloud
Chapter 3: Siggy
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 3: Siggy - Giants are one of the magic peoples. Crag the giant lives alone on his small mountain. He lives near a village where he does his trading. He trades for things he does not make or grow himself. He hunts and traps on his property to supply meat, herbs, fruits, medicines, and other edibles he gathers. He acts as the local sheriff. Besides his adventures, the local maidens have heard of his love-making skills. At the start of his story, he finds a young girl elf hiding on his land. 17 Chapters
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual High Fantasy Paranormal Magic Harem Petting Safe Sex Big Breasts Size Small Breasts
We spent months teaching the girls how to use the bows. When Breccia and Coquina were in their mid-teens, Shale decided it was time for her to go back. I knew I would miss her and the girls, but I would be able to enjoy a few years of solitude.
Or so I thought.
A few months later, when I went to town, I heard about robberies on the main road at the East end of town. It was a few miles further Eastwards. This is not good for the town’s business. After rushing through my deliveries in town, I headed back home and let the mules loose.
The mules usually know when I flash them a mental image of what I need. They’re more than capable of getting back to their field of grass on the knoll without me taking them there. I pet them and told them they were good boys, and thanked them for the help.
I put on my Lamellar Torso Armor. Think of your front and back torso, and your shoulders covered in leather armor. Add very small steel plates all over the leather. I chose to wear this because there were at least two baddies this time. I knew I was going into danger and decided to leave little to chance.
I put on my war belt and attached two large throwing axes. I grabbed a small pack, my war bow, and war arrows, and headed back to the area south of town. A war bow is a very thick, large size bow that only a giant can draw and shoot.
The matching war arrows are much longer and thicker with armor-piercing bodkin tips. This is likely overkill for a couple of thieves. If they have armor, it won’t matter one bit. My war arrows are as long as the distance from a human shoulder to the fingertips on his opposite hand. They are as thick as a human thumb. They are capable of stopping a bear or a buffalo with one well-aimed shot.
The only way the thieves had been able to stay hidden was by being further from my mountain and beyond my normal area. That makes me think they knew about me. Extra caution was needed. I had a suspect in mind before I even left home.
As I got near, I walked along a few dozen yards off the road, looking and sensing for someone. I was beginning to get a tingle of people up ahead of me when I saw a fox. I pulled out a fragrant piece of jerky. Its nose twitched. I sat down, and it approached with care; I mentally flashed it an image of two dirty-looking men.
The fox flashed back an image of three men and a fire burning by a large rock. I recognized the rock. Villagers called it Fat Rock. It’s a huge, mushroom-shaped sandstone rock. Crap, it’s looking more like a local is involved than ever. Fat Rock’s about a hundred yards from the road and a couple of miles ahead. Still convenient to the village for their so-called work.
I threw the piece of jerky to the fox for being helpful. It yipped me a thank-you and went off on its own business with the jerky in its mouth.
I waited. As it turned towards dusk, I started working my way towards Fat Rock. I took my shoes off when I got really close. That way, I could feel everything underfoot, and I could stalk up on them without alerting them.
My moccasins are quiet, but I cannot feel where I am going as well. I can see in the dark, but I want my eyes on the enemy, not the ground.
From the other side of Fat Rock, I heard them talking. One voice seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place who it was. One has a deep, guttural voice; a third voice is young-sounding, and he is whining a lot.
Ha! They are plotting to kill me. It seems they like the robbery business here and knew that the day was coming when I would come after them. Little did they know that day was here already.
Then I heard muffled sobbing. Do they have a prisoner? Well, shit, it just keeps getting worse. I pulled three arrows. I loaded one on the arrow rest, and the other two were jammed between the fingers of my left hand for quick reload. I drew as I came around the rock.
“You’re under arrest, get down on your belly, or I will shoot you!”
One of them made it easy for me as he tried to jump up to throw a knife. The arrow came halfway through his back.
“Anyone else wish to die?”
The other two were saying, “No, no,” with their hands out to the sides.
“On your bellies and stay there. Hands behind your back,” I said as I kicked a homemade club away from the bigger man.”
I tied their hands tightly, then their feet. A magical touch on each braided leather tie, and I had fused the bindings together. I patted them down and threw the contents of their pockets beside them.
I collected a small homemade knife from Jazen Wellman, a previous member of the Baron’s chain gang. The whining voice boy turned out to be his younger teenage brother, Bubby Wellman. Bubby is only thirteen years old.
After I was sure the idiots were secure, I went to the girl who was tied up.
“Hello, I am Crag Filsak, the local ranger. Let me untie you.”
After untying her hands, she sat up and removed her own gag and the tie on her ankles. She mumbled deprecations toward the criminals as she rubbed her wrists.
“Thank you, I am Sigesi, Sigesi Snowman. They captured me about a week ago. The dead asshole killed my husband, Marden, and has been raping me all week, if you wish to call it that. The other two dip-shits only watched me. Damn, I am so hungry.”
I went back, got my water-skin and a cloth for washing from my pack, and passed them to her. “You can go around the rock a bit and clean yourself up while I talk to the idiots. When you return, I will get you something to eat.”
“Thank you. These idiots, as you said, never let me out of their sight.”
I went over to the two living idiots. “Jazen, what am I to do with you. Robbery, kidnapping, and rape. These are all capital offenses. No chain-gang for you this time, you damned idiot!”
Sobbing, he said, “I dunno why, Crag. But I know I can’t go to jail again. I can’t take that again. I jus’ recently got out. SHIT! It’s like you said, they will hang me or behead me for sure. Between now and then, it is going to be nothing but hell for me.”
After a pause, he said, “Um, can’t you uh, “do me” right here? I knew when Artinor killed Sigesi’s husband, I was in too far over my head. Screw me, but the asshole Artinor never listened to a word either of us said. It’s all on him. I didn’t know he was a killer and a damned rapist.”
“Well, you’re an accessory to murder and rape, and so is Bubby now. If you had the sand to take Artinor down, you would only be going to the chain gang again.”
“No, not that, I cannot go back there again.”
“So why are you here and stealing again?”
“Artinor talked me into it. He’s very persuasive, and I am kinda weak-willed, you know. Can you let Bubby go? He did none of this and disapproved of the whole thing. Artinor was keeping him here against his will.”
(Thinking Jazen’s weak-willed, weak-minded, and lazy to boot - is more like it.)
“Is that true, Bubby?”
“Yes, sir. You know me. I am a good kid. I got tricked into coming with Jazen. He told me we would be working and could help Ma with some money. He said he was helping her and me. He never told me we would be thieving. I am not interested in this way of life. I only did the scut work here. I did not take part in any of the rest of it. None of it!”
I saw that Bubby was trembling in fear.
“We will see, boys. Jazen, you have a choice to make. I escort you to the Baron’s justice, or I do it right here, right now? You need to choose.”
“I chose here and now. I know I am rotten to the core, there’s something wrong inside me, and now I’ve gotten my brother in trouble this time.”
I said, “You also got your friend killed.”
“Not my friend. I wanted to “borrow” money from a few people, not kill and rape. I had nothing to do with rapin’ an killin.”
I said, “Ahh, but you did, Jazen. Borrowing money? You stood by and allowed the murders and rapes, then you allowed it to continue. You condoned his actions and helped him get away with them. I am not sure if you were too much of a coward or too stupid. It doesn’t matter. Guilty is guilty, now, what’s your choice???”
He said, “Just get it over with. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
He looked towards his brother when he said that, and I sent the arrow his way. He had a brief look of surprise when it passed through his heart. One thing about my war arrows, they were quick and final.
The young woman came back.
She pointed at Bubby and said, “He’s innocent and complained as often as that first man, Artinor Nesmi, my rapist, would let him. Jazen and the murdering-raping asshole argued, and Bubby complained constantly. He did not like what they were doing, so Nesmi and Jazen decided they couldn’t let him leave. They knew he would tell his mother.”
“Thank you for the murderer-rapist’s name, Artinor Nesmi. I need that for my report. So, how are you doing?”
“I’m tired, hungry, and weak. I’ve been kept tied up most of the time for the last week. The experience is blurred together. My rapist was not very endowed, so there is no damage, just a few bruises.”
“My real problem now is that my husband is gone. I know that no man will have me now. Who wants a woman who’s been raped over and over again? I hope and pray that little weasel didn’t knock me up the duff.”
“Are you looking for a man already? I thought you would want to put that off. I can probably get you a job at the inn, or you could be a housekeeper, cook, and clean house for someone.”
“Hmm, there’s an idea. You’re right. What I am not in the mood for is screwing. I likely won’t be for a while. Not because I don’t like sex, I just need to get that idiot out of my mind for a while. Being a housekeeper sounds doable. I am afraid that, as a woman working in an inn, I would be expected to service the customers in more than one way, so no, that’s out.”
“So who was Artinor? Do either of you know?”
Bubby said, “He was in the chain gang with Jazen. They were released a day apart and planned to do things together. The robbery thing didn’t work well for them. Most travelers had horses and bullied themselves past them. These two only had homemade wood knives and a club. Neither weapon is in good shape.”
Bubby continued, “I set snares, but something robbed some of my snares of rabbits. It happened often enough that we were not eating well.”
“Uhh huh, might be the fox I met, it let me know you were here. It looked plump and well-fed. OK, well, I have jerky, dried apple slices, and some tea to tide you over. I apologize for the travel fare. I wasn’t expecting anyone to survive this. I only have one cup, you’ll have to take turns with it.”
“Please,” they both said.
After they ate and drank a bit, which took a while, we returned to town. I didn’t have a shovel, so I had to leave the dead men there for now. There was no way I could dig a grave in that hardscrabble, rocky dirt using a knife or axe. I planned on going back tomorrow to finish this grisly business.
We dropped Bubby off with his mother and made excuses to leave.
It seemed nobody needed an extra mouth to feed in town, so Siggy (Sigesi), the woman, came home with me. I needed a cook and housekeeper.
Siggy made a ham soup with barley, which we shared with slices of white cheese and some fresh bread brought from town. I noticed an open jar of goo with cheesecloth over it.
“What’s this, Siggy?”
“It’s wet flour. If you leave it out for about two or three days, it should start to bubble. It’s another method for making bread. You use part of the jar to mix with regular bread ingredients. It will make a very tasty loaf of bread. Thats because you are not using Sodium Bicarb, which affects the taste.”
“The remaining part in the bowl will be added to and used to start the next batch of bread. After that, you must keep it covered with a damp cloth, or it can go bad.”
I said, “The bread I get from town tastes fair, but the loaves are large, flat circles that resemble a cow patty too much. Sometimes when he cooks it too long, it really looks like a cow patty then. You can cut pieces off, but it’s really only suitable for dunking.
I was thinking, “We will see.” Dunking a thick, chewy bread seemed alright to me.
Siggy started making loaves of bread using a form that goes inside a covered roasting pan for baking. She told me the covered roasting pan does the same thing as an oven. I don’t have an oven.
She also introduced me to egg toast. You cut bread slices, dip them in a mixed-up egg mixture, and then fry them. It’s great with butter and honey, or my homemade brown apple jam. A tasty change from my usual morning gruel.
Flat cakes are the tastiest thing she introduced me to. She made that with sodium bicarb and made fried flat cakes. We added fruit jam to go with the fried-in-butter flat cakes.
After dinner that night, I took her to the stream, and we both enjoyed a bath. She was not body-shy because she had been married a while and was used to seeing a man and being seen by one. Then there was the rapist, whom she kept laughing about. The rapist, it seems, was hung like a flea, or so she kept telling me. I could see her eying my alter ego down there when I took off my clothes.
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