Crag the Giant
Copyright© 2026 by Duncan Mickloud
Chapter 7: Settling in With Two Women
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 7: Settling in With Two Women - 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
It was four weeks later now. I’m sure Garnet is pregnant because she shows signs of morning sickness already.
We were in the middle of the Red Fist harvest. Red Fist fruit is a favorite of giants. Garnet had brought the seeds with her. I had not had Red Fist since I got here. My elderly relative did not have them, and no one in the village had heard of Red Fist.
Red Fists grow on a waist-high bush. It’s an annual plant that shoots up quickly and produces multiple fist-shaped fruits. The fruits can be any color, like yellow, green, blue, orange, or red, which is the favorite variety. They come in small ones and ones so big they can burst open if left too long on the bush.
The fruit is almost round with a row of four knobs on the bottom. It resembles a fist if you don’t count the number of bumps, because there is no thumb bump. The fruit can also have stripes or spots.
I had grown up with Red Fist, but it takes a few women to harvest it. I could pick it, but did not have the patience to do the fiddly things necessary to process it.
Red Fist may be a fruit, but it tastes like a vegetable with a tang. You use it to make two versions, either pieces or pulp. When dealing with pieces, it’s used to add another vegetable flavor to the soup or stew pot. It adds bulk.
The pulp version is a little more acidic. A small amount of vinegar is added, and it is boiled until mushy. It is useful with any tough meat; the acid tenderizes the meat as it cooks. It can thicken a stew or soup and adds a nice flavor if you add a touch of honey. It is a fruit that is not sweet.
The big thing is, it can be heated, so it can be put up in crocks for storage. It will last throughout winter and spring if sealed. Red Fist pieces are often placed in crocks filled with boiling water. You can also cook green beans, peas, and other firm vegetables.
I am not wanted or needed in the house for crocking those either. My hands are too big and clumsy.
The red variety of the fruit is the most popular, and many say it is the best-tasting. I pick several baskets of red fists each morning and bring them in for them. Then I go about my other duties like cutting wood, hunting, or patrolling. They go about putting them up for storage.
Lately, I’ve been using a hand sickle to whop off seedlings near the ground. This is a job I usually do in the fall when it’s cooler. The seedlings go into a wheelbarrow.
Lately, I have been feeding the seedlings to the two goats we now have. I used to store them for burning later. The goats are another of Garnet’s ideas.
The goats give milk, butter, and cream for our own use. Goats give milk for about six months. You need two goats, one to milk and the other to be pregnant. This way, the second goat can rotate in for the next six months’ worth of milk.
We don’t have a Billy Goat, so we bring the females to town to breed them.
A new household item we recently bought includes a cooler. This thing is a large clay casting with a door on the main compartment. It has two shelves. There is a water tank on top.
Putting water in the top section creates coolness inside the main compartment. It stays cool as long as you add water daily and keep the door closed. Damn thing costs seven and a half silvers. More than an entire year’s tax payment.
The cooler is a pink clay color, unlike the two stoves. The stoves are also made of clay, but have darkened over the years because of all the cooking and heating. Clay stoves are what most people use. Stoves are imported from Macilan, the Baron’s town, which is several days’ walk away.
We are also raising squabblers. A squabbler is a short, wild bird. It has brown and tan camouflage feathers. They give eggs most of the year. The eggs are only the length of a digit, so it takes a lot of birds if you want eggs. Males and females are easy to sex by their feather patterns.
A broody squabbler hen can hatch a dozen eggs in sixteen days. They multiply like wildfire because they can reach adulthood in only two months. More females beget more eggs. It takes two or three squabblers to make a nice evening meal, usually baked or in a stew or soup.
A broody hen needs her own cage, or with one or two other brood hens. The males are too rambunctious for the hens to sit on the eggs properly. The males need to be sequestered.
I had to build a shed and several cages for the squabblers. The cages are made of two-digit and three-digit square stock for the frame. Thin slats are added all around to contain the birds.
Garnet taught Siggy how to handle the birds. I buy grain for them. They make a lot of noise, well, the males do. We eat mostly the males. We keep two males for each cage of eight females. Too many males in a cage and there’s fighting, not enough males and you get infertile eggs.
Baby squabblers were removed to their own grow cages for safety. The little ones get picked on too much.
Once a week, I had to gather up the sawdust and bird poop for The Pile. The Pile is where all our leftover vegetables go, with any leafy stuff I care to add. The Pile is behind the shed. The Pile is used by the girls for the garden.
But I was thinking about the Red Fist process.
The girls parboiled the outsides so the skin could be slit and peeled off. The skins are thick and remain leathery, so they must be removed. They are also bitter. Much of the fruit is sliced and boiled for “crocking”. The rest of the Red Fists are boiled down to make pulp.
The pulp is made by dicing it before boiling. After boiling, the pulp is pushed through a sieve, which catches the seeds.
Solid or in pulp form, boiling-hot Red First is poured into crocks. Then a half-digit of wax is poured on top to seal it. Buying crocks and wax is another great expense.
They tell me the crocks and wax are easily reused. No wonder I mostly ate meat in the past, as well as whatever else I gleaned from the woods. A lot of work goes into crocking.
My meager garden has grown quite large by now. The two girls are adding more vegetables and the red fists. Preserving and pickling vegetables and Red Fists are time-consuming. Digging more garden plots and fencing them took a lot of my time, too.
One thing about having two females around, there are more mouths to feed. This makes more work for me.
Sadly, in any household discussion, I automatically lose. It’s two against one, plus, they have already decided what they want me to do beforehand. I was already much busier than usual because it’s the time of year when I’m at my busiest. I’m not enjoying things of late.
I had learned to not argue. I never seemed to win anyway. After a while, I learned it was easier to give in and listen to their wants. When I did that, it was easier for me, but it grates on me. My nature is to pound my problems, not kiss up to them. We have a lot of friction. The friction they are causing.
There was usually someone wanting some loving attention later. The payback was worthwhile after all. Happy women are much nicer than pouting, angry ones.
Don’t get me wrong, these were extra jobs on top of what I already do. I still have to cut down trees, limb them, and stack all the wood for next year’s supply. I also have to take some wood to town once or twice a week.
After a while, I feel too put-upon and overworked. I used to have time to take an occasional break and have a cup of tea. To sit outside, watch the world go by, and enjoy the wildlife.
One day in the village, I was delivering some firewood. A whole load intended for the blacksmith, as luck would have it, the ladies had stayed home. Which was fine with me; I was a bit pissed off with them.
Between all the added crap they had me doing and a lack of sex lately, I was not in a good mood. Siggy was out of action for several days with her monthly friend.
Garnet had been extra moody, so I was more upset with her. Because of Garnet’s bitchiness I spent a few hours in the pub drinking ale. I may stay in town tonight and give them something to think about. Fuck ‘em!
I wasn’t talking to anyone as I was in a deep funk. I can get that way. The conversations over the past few days with the girls have left me deeply dissatisfied.
Time and distance are often the best medicine, sometimes. I had no solutions for my situation; they rarely left me to my pursuits. They have been downright aggravating, in one word - pests.
I needed to brood and think about it, thinking that after a while, I would see how good I had things. I would balance the joy of having two women against the mild irritant of my temporary abstinence. Plus, the ongoing demands they made on my time and freedom.
This is what I kept thinking, but I seem stuck in a circle. I kept going over the same grumpy thoughts with no relief in sight. I was worried I was done with them, or at least Garnet. It’s women like Garnet that make giants go off on their own. I started to consider telling her where the road is.
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