So a Couple, a Goblin and a Troll Walk Into a Swamp... - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Getting to Know Big Fin a Little Better

Having spent no less than four hours aboard the trireme, Margaret was finally prepared mentally to head back out and bargain with Big Fin. It was now late afternoon, and she was still wearing her muddy, red and gold trimmed silk dress that she fled her home in. At this point, she had untied her complex hairdo as it was coming undone on its own and fashioned a loose ponytail. With soap in hand and her waist-length hair flowing behind her, Margaret trudged down the boarding plank.

She walked in the direction of the slowly sinking sun just barely visible over the swap trees. At least she was given the pretty orange sky to enjoy. With directions from several other trolls, she approached the troll king’s personal abode.

Before she was ten paces from the troll's door, he emerged. “Mar-get. Good see you!”

Cringing at hearing the troll king mispronounce her name, she corrected him. “Mar-gar-et. Margaret.” She said, but quickly got on with her request. “Anyway, I came by so that you could show me to your ship. I want to see it before the sun went down. Since we don’t have much time… shall we go?” 

Margaret sounded very happy despite the fact that she was anxious about where things may go. She knew that she had to at least see the ship to determine if it was sufficient. It was a faster option than towing the trireme out and repairing it here in the swamp without a proper dockyard. She followed Big Fin as he led the way around his house and down a well worn trail. 

After many twists and turns, they emerged into a small clearing that opened to the riverbank. Sitting there on the water’s surface was a very ramshackle, yet sturdy-looking raft-ish ship. Not conventionally built, as it was very boxy, but it appeared nearly the same size as her husband’s trireme.

“My boat!” Big Fin exclaimed with pride in his voice. “Me dah died. Me get ship. Now me and son use boat catch fish.”

Somewhat curious about newly mentioned ‘Little Fin’, Margaret was about to ask where he’d been this whole time, but caught a whiff of the troll king beside her. “Oh, here. I brought the macho potion too. I’ll show you how to use it while I wash my clothes in the river here. I’m actually happy with how clean this shore is, it’s nearly a beach!” She said while walking to the river edge. 

This part of the swampland was much more pristine than what she had seen before. Where they beached their ship, it was very muddy, with lots of cattails and reeds. More bugs and toads there too. Here, Margaret heard the water flowing instead of frogs chirping. She kicked off her shoes, and pulled off her socks and walked barefoot around the pebbly sand without fear. The river here moved swiftly and was clear. It actually looked drinkable.

“Me no need help ma-chismo. But me always try new things.” Big Fin stated as he followed Margaret into the water.

She was was standing shin-deep in the clear water, and let the muddy ends of her dress get soaked as she was intending to wash it anyway. “Here, make sure you rub this potion all over your crotch especially. Underarms too.” She motioned with her hands at her own crotch and underarms to demonstrate.

Margaret held up the glass flask that contained a sanguine lotion, and uncorked it. She tilted the flask and poured a palm full into her hand. She then smeared it onto the front of her outfit and splashed some water onto it. As she scrubbed, it became sudsy. Then she corked the bottle and tossed it to Big Fin.

He opened the flask and sniffed, then recoiled. “Ugggh. Smell like flowers!”

Amused by his childish comment, Margaret started to loosen the laces on the front of her dress as she moved to deeper water. This distracted her host from the bad smell of the soap, and he forced himself to pour enough to cover all the spots he was told to. Margaret walked deeper into the water and was submerged up to her thighs. Big Fin waded out waist-deep so he could wash his hairy underarms which were no doubt sickeningly stinky.

“Now that we’re out here by your boat and I can see that it is good enough to use for my husband's assault. I wouldn’t mind making the second deal between you and myself. I was thinking you might like a little show? A preview of what is you get after the battle.”

With the torso cinches loose, Margaret pulled her red and gold dress up over her head, awkwardly pulling her long, red hair out of it as she peeled the dress off. She was wearing her form-fitting creamy silk undergown, which was soaked and became more transparent than she had anticipated. The thin, wet silk stuck to her plump thighs and ass and all of her contours were clearly visible. The wet, nearly transparent silk also stuck to her belly and breasts. Her nipples and all the freckles on her pale skin stood out.

“Ohh, Many dots!” Big Fin said.

Margaret realized that he was commenting on her freckles. “Trolls don’t get these? I guess you don’t have them...”

Exceedingly pleased that the troll was washing himself where she had directed, Margaret eyed his soapy crotch. Imagining such a dick in a freshly cleaned state did interest her a bit, but not attached to a troll.

“Not many. You have many! Pretty lady.” Big Fin replied and started to wash all the soap and bubbles off of his body by throwing himself into the river and thrashing like an animal.

He didn’t remove his loincloth, so Margaret hoped that it was getting cleaned as she scrubbed her red dress.

“So how about it? I finish removing my clothes. You can see my body and play with yourself. And you let my husband use this fancy ship here?” Margaret asked as she approached the ship, sinking in the water up to her chin.

“Me think second best thing to fucking.” The troll king said.

Margaret winced. “Oh come on, you mustn't see human women out here that often! And wouldn’t uh, a blowjob, be a cheap use of your time with me after the battle?” Unsure of what exactly Big Fin considered to be the second best thing, Margaret tried to get out of doing anything that involved her touching the river troll’s dick, clean or otherwise.

“Good idea. Me know...” Initially pleased with Big Fin’s response, Margaret started to grow worried as he continued to speak. “Be with you whole time you here. Make fucking after battle better. You want boat? You stay with me until husband back. In town, in home.” He was crouched in the water and moving his arms about.

Wishing she’d been able to find more soap on the trireme, Margaret grunted and made a scowl, clearly annoyed with the terms Big Fin was putting forward. “F-fine! But seriously, no fucking. No anything... like that! Until after you help capture the castle.” Still feeling as though she was in control here somewhat, Margaret acquiesced and walked back into waist deep water. She started to put her dress back on, assuming his request of sleeping quarters meant she no longer had to reveal herself to the troll constantly ogling her.

“No! Leave clothes off. Big Fin not finished.” The river troll continued moving his arms just below the surface.

Margaret realized that he was masturbating. Right here, again. The troll king stood with the water up to his thighs and his loincloth was turned to the side, revealing his large cock. It’s size was comparable to a horse, but it was green, with more veins and covered with bumps. It also didn’t bend, and stood straight at two feet long.

“Goddess! You’re such a beast!” Had Big Fin’s prick not been so veiny and inhuman, it might have been appealing to Margaret, but it was just too weird.

She sighed. If I must. She was resigned to allowing the troll king to masturbate while looking at her naked body. She pulled her soaked silk undergown over her head and pulled her long red hair free of it. When she could look up again she realized that the troll king had moved closer and she was now arms-length away from his veiny green cock.

Fortunately, all Margaret could smell of him was the rosy soap she had given him to wash with, and a bit of the swampy scent of the river. The grayish-green head of the troll king's cock was ribbed, making it look like a morel mushroom top. A countless number of various lumps, some as large as her thumb, ran along the length of the olive-colored shaft. It was darker green at its root, to match the large balls hanging below. The troll king was stroking the length of it and Margaret could see his fingers collecting precum at the tip and using it to lubricate the shaft. It stunk of an earthy masculine virility which was a far cry from the filthiness she expected.

Margaret knew that she had to tell him this would go no further, and that if he insisted on ejaculating, he was not to get any on her. “You may find your release, I don’t really mind. But make sure that you-” Sadly, she had not spoken soon enough.

He was apparently further along than she realized, and perhaps had not climaxed recently. The tip of his green cock erupted with white tar and splattered her forehead and cheek, and down her jaw and neck. Margaret was stunned and stood paralyzed with her arms straight and hands splayed open. The troll's cock spurted a second time, painting her shoulder and chest with his abundant seed. The troll cream heated her skin and soaked into her gorgeous red hair. The size of this beast’s eruption was proportional to the size of his balls. What may well have been a pitcher of cum was floating in the water, sinking and being eaten by little fish. 

“Disgusting!" Margaret fumed. "Soap. Macho lotion, NOW!”

“Mucho! All gone!” Big Fin replied sheepishly.

Margaret actually raised a fist to punch the troll, but very quickly reminded herself that he was a huge river troll that could quite literally pick her up and snap her spine in half. Coping and seething in anger, she submerged herself in the river and tried her best to scrub the sticky cum from her chest and neck. As she did this, the troll king continued to stroke his softening member.

Breaking the water’s surface so that she could get a breath of air, Margaret was disgusted with how the cum smelled fishy, like everything else around here. She supressed a dry heave and furiously ducked back under water. So desperate to get this stuff off of her, she was grateful that the troll asked her to keep her clothes off - if only to save them from being soiled by his cum. Margaret proceeded to scoop fistfulls of sand and rub her hair. After a few minutes of exfoliating, she retrieved her undergown and put it back on. Thankfully her undeegown and red dress smelled of the perfumed soap.

“Don’t you dare do that again!” Margaret waded to the riverbank and ignored the troll king as he continued to squeeze his cock and follow her.

“Not fucking. Deal kept. You want boat?” Big Fin did not sound threatening but instead like a man who knew he had the upper hand in the negotiation.

“Get away from me! You had your fun!” She muttered rather loudly and wrung her wet clothes in her hands. She pulled her red dress over her head and began cinching it.

Big Fin stopped a few feet from Margaret and pointed his cock at her. “Use your mouth here.” He ran one of his large fingers over the ribbed head of his organ, capturing a bead of cloudy precum that he rubbed into his skin.

Disgusted and somehow growing even more furious, Margaret scoffed very rudely and shook her head and waved her hands, declining his initiative.

The troll king bruskly adjusted his loincloth so that it was properly worn, and proceeded to walk away from her. “No boat.”

Margaret started walking the opposite direction, before realizing that she didn’t know exactly where the trail was. Begrudgingly, she turned and followed Big Fin. Neither of the pair spoke on their trek back, which only served to upset Margaret further.

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My husband is fighting for his life. We came out here to find soldiers, and my husband has done all the work! I’ve never been a slouch in our relationship, but he’s the one carrying a sword, commanding soldiers and going days without sleep. Yet here I am, unwilling to give a little peck on a freshly washed dick? It's a small bargain for securing the boat... Even sleeping in the same house as the troll wasn’t a big ask, as long as he didn't pursue sexual advances any further. Feeling a bit of guilt at not swallowing her dignity and giving the troll’s cockhead a smooch, Margaret tumbled in her thoughts and proceeded to feel worse as she followed Big FIn to his home.

By the time the duo returned to the village, the sun had set and the hanging luminescent plants around the village were glowing as trolls retired for the night, or to socialize and drink.

He could have raped her if he wanted to. The troll king was being friendly. His whole clan was really. Yet, I wouldn’t abide a simple request in exchange for a help to retake our castle. Worse yet, the troll was just going to be a sacrificial lamb in the coming battle. She and her husband were treating him like a literal animal, when it was obvious that he was a person in a village, with a life of his own. 

Margaret said meekly, “Hey I was thinking... ”

“Me just sleep.” The troll king said, walking past a hut where several trolls were drinking and socializing. He continued toward his home. It was dark, but it was still early to turn in for the night.

Margaret followed him to his door, and spoke softly. “I’ll kiss it. Just once.”

“No. Just sleep. See you tomorrow.” Big Fin sounding morose. 

The sad puppy act, coupled with the guilt that she felt, compelled Margaret to rush in front of the oaf, blocking his doorway. She then grabbed his right hand and put it on her chest. He was still clean, so her nearly dry dress wasn’t muddied at all. Knowing that this would work, Margaret felt satisfaction welling up inside of her when the troll king’s hand started squeezing her silk covered breast.

Blushing, Margaret said, “I’ll do as you asked. But you must keep yourself under control. No fucking. No sex of any kind. Just one kiss.”

He ushered her inside. With the dark wooden door shut behind them, Margaret was inside of Big Fin’s dome-shaped home. It had one large living area littered with troll... stuff. Tables, fish tanks, a box that might contain food. Then there were three doorways leading to other rooms. The larger doorway straight ahead must be Big Fin’s bedroom. They both stood in the central living area.

Reluctant but committed, Margaret bent a bit so that she could move his loincloth. Holding it aside, she could see his cock slowly growing in anticipation. She could feel the heat coming from his crotch and watched the bumpy green cock rise and stiffen. Still repulsed, she held her breath and quickly leaned in before he was fully erect and briefly pressed her lips against the ribbed cockhead. It was a kiss. Grateful that it was still clean, she licked her lips and realized that she was tasting the precum he had smeared earlier. Having gotten a smell of his cum earlier at the river, she wasn’t nearly as surprised by its potent, salty flavor.

Margaret straightened and sucked in air again. She looked up, satisfied that the bargain was complete. “There. A deal sealed.”

Big Fin patted the sides of her shoulders with his large hands. “Me like you Mar-garet. You prettiest human me seen.”

Annoyed again because the troll didn’t speak correctly, Margaret decided to correct him once again. “Are. You are the prettiest. That’s what you should have said. We’ll get you speaking appropriately before we leave.” She walked away from the king, and thought he was actually more comparable to a lesser noble, considering how few trolls he had under his command.

“You... are smart!” Big Fin stated and followed Margaret.

She walked into the king’s bedroom and was surprised to see that the place was well kept. Not clean by her standard, but comparable to a peasant’s home back in New Caltian.

Big Fin pointed at the bed, “You sleep here. Me learn speak like you. Me give you boat.”

Margaret was a very compassionate woman. She understood now that this overly trusting buffoon would probably turn on his village if he had a shot at her. The guilt she felt earlier about using him continued to well up in her chest and it compelled her to give in to the troll. “Give me the boat. We’ll get you there just... Yes, I will stay here, but you must sleep facing the other way.”

Another reason that Margaret was agreeing to spend the night here with Big Fin was the fact that, despite what she told her husband before he left, she was genuinely fearful of the things in the swamp. When she was with Big Fin swimming, she felt safe because the troll was big enough to rip a crocodile in half. If something managed to sneak into the ship's cabin and she didn’t wake in time to kill it with her dagger, she was done for. On top of that, she had a fear of spiders. Although they could be lurking anywhere, it would be nice to have someone around that she could command to dispatch them, as Franklin or servants always did.

Overjoyed that Margaret agreed to sleep here, and in his bed, Big Fin did something she’d have never expected of the troll. He sprinted to his bed and removed the patchwork quilts and pillows atop it. Then ran out of the room. When he returned, he was holding genuinely beautiful blue silk sheets and pillows. Margaret’s eyebrows rose and her jaw nearly hit the floor.

“These-” Big Fin said, and was immediately interrupted by Margaret.

“Are.” she said, knowing that the man wasn’t going to say it.

Getting the hint, he started over. “These are from humans. More like lady, yes?” The troll king said as he remade his bed with the finer cloth.

“Say I, instead of me." She corrected. "And yes.”

Taken aback by the situation, Margaret approached the bed and sniffed the bed sheets and blankets to make sure they weren’t moldy. A bit stale, probably because they sat in his house for who knew how long, but they were clean. Seeing that she’d get to sleep in a decent bed, Margaret was actually somewhat pleased to have agreed to this. That was, until she sat on it.

“Ohh!” She cried loudly as she realized that it was a big stone slab. To her surprise it was also warm and the firmness actually felt good after the initial surprise.

She hadn't planned on sleeping just yet however, and remained seated. “I’m not exactly tired yet. Uh... Do you have any books or scrolls or maps?”

Extremely doubtful that this troll had anything that she could use to occupy herself with, Margaret stood back up and started looking around.

“Me.. I... have books.” Big Fin left the room.

Pleased to hear that her host knew what she was talking about, Margaret admired the boyish nature of his bedroom. The bed faced the doorway, so she could look outside to see the living area. The entire structure was made of dark wood that was dyed blue or green with no rhyme or reason. Painted hand prints of all sizes were on the walls, and the idea of Big Fin raising little troll babies made Margaret feel even worse about their fatal plans for him. On both sides of his bed were roughly cut holes for windows, both different sizes. He had a crude dresser of sorts and out of genuine curiosity, Margaret pulled one of the wooden drawers open. Again her jaw dropped when she saw nothing but clean, unused loincloths stacked within. She immediately took one out and set it on the bed as Big Fin returned.

Margaret pointed at the clean loincloth. “Put on a clean one! You have all these and you don’t ever change?” Genuinely agitated, Margaret said this with a bit more venom than she probably should have.

“My woman did these things. She mad like you, at me not changing. She not here anymore…” Big Fin actually started to appear to be uncomfortable.

Margaret lamented the fact that she was in a foreign village, and was not here to provide therapy for this man. Still, her work helping injured soldiers from the battlefield compelled her to go to the troll king and press her fat bust into one of his arms as she stroked his back. This immediately snapped him out of his burgeoning state of melancholy. It also got his loincloth twitching.

Acknowledging that she was responsible for getting the troll king going again, Margaret sighed and rubbed one knee against his growing cock. It was a calculated, and simple motiviation. His ladder of needs is quite short. A little teasing can secure the boat, as long as he doesn't force me to do anything.

Looking at the bed, where Big Fin placed the books, she was at least happy to see that she’d have something to read. Worrying about those moldy, old tomes later, she continued to rub her knee against the troll king's erection. His large green cock had displaced the loincloth and was now sticking straight out. The less I know about him and his family the better! Just think of him as a chess piece, and entertain him. No attachments. Do it quickly, for the boat! Margaret thought.

Finally getting used to being around this smelly, hedonistic brute, Margaret bent in front of him and put both palms on his knobby green shaft. She was mesmerized. So stiff inside, yet soft and warm outside, like my husband's. The veins and bumps are firm but not scaly. But its big as a horse, and yucky green. She blinked, wondering how long her little reverie was. “I'll give you relief. Just my hands this one time. I don’t want you getting horny while we’re both in bed.”

Obviously her words completely changed Big Fin’s mood, and he dropped the somber mood he was adopting. “Ohhh, thank you Margaret!” The king groaned, and said her name correctly for the first time.

Looking up at him, she could see the fins at the sides of his head looked like ears twitching happily. Pleased that she had control and could aim his tool away from her this time, she used both hands to stroke his length from root to head. She looked away, at the silk sheets and the books, or anything other than the warm, bumpy green cock she was stroking. Within a minute or two, precum started to ooze from the tip. The pungent aroma of the pearly liquid struck her nose and she looked to see how nasty it must be.

To her surprise, the head of Big Fin’s member wasn’t actually all that unappealing. She had been face to face with it before, but now that she was in his home and looking down at it, she could see it a little better. Behind his glans was a bundle of wrinkled, green flesh that she pushed at with each upward stroke. No doubt, he had enough extra skin there to get even longer and harder than he was now. Realizing that, Margaret actually felt a pang of fear. He’s this horny just being near me, and getting a handjob. Imagine how big he’d be if I actually showed him my pussy... Goddess. Franklin can’t know about all this. She decided.

“Big Fin?” Margaret’s voice was very upbeat and seductive. “This deal we’ve got worked out for the boat... Just tell my husband that you chose to give it to him out of... It’s a good will gesture." She was careful to not word this incorrectly so that the troll might use it against her. “I don't want him to know that we sampled the goods. Do you understand?”

“Me... I... I say nothing. I swear!” Clearly very worked up because of the handjob he was receiving. Big Fin agreed immediately but didn’t stop watching her small pale human hands around his green troll cock.

Satisfied with his discretion, Margaret maintained a grip around his shaft while they worked out his sexual frustration. Before long he grunted loudly and she felt his hot green shaft pulse. A strand of white troll semen shot from the tip. The troll king's cum splattering the wall in front of them. She felt a second pulse of his cock, and more cum bubbled forth and fell onto the wooden floor. Noting that the smell of the stuff would linger, Margaret was a bit regretful that she did this in the room they’d be sleeping in. She thanked the heavens that no cum landed on her shoes, or dress or her hair.

Margaret released her hands and could smell his sweat on her palms - a peppery, smoky body odor. “There you go... Now, as thanks for that, I’d like to be left alone for a while. Then we’ll each go to bed!”

Big Fin nodded and adjusted his loincloth to cover his shrinking organ, and left the room.

Margaret sat back on his bed and relished the feeling of the lavish silks that she never would have guessed she’d have access to here. Picking up the three books that her host brought her, Margaret could see that one was in another language she didn’t recognize and one of the other two was a handwritten journal of sorts. Taking an interest in that one, she opened it to the first page, titled Living Amongst River Trolls. The author’s name was ruined by a smudge of ink, so she couldn’t tell who wrote it. Now intrigued to learn more of this foreign culture, Margaret began thumbing through the journal while her mind forgot all about what just happened.

Continued in Chapter 3

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