The Coming of the Stone Giants

Last summer something extraordinary happened to me. I was holidaying in the south of Spain for a week, taking precious time off studies. One morning, a couple of days before I was due to leave (I had a fixed flight), I overheard a party of Americans talking about a 'Cave of Goblins' in the mountains north of Seville.

I have always been fascinated with goblins and other such creatures - and indeed my final year thesis was on representations of goblins in European mythology and literature - so this was an opportunity I couldn't refuse. I hired a car later that morning and by lunchtime I was on my way.

My Spanish isn't good, and my driving and navigation not much better (sometimes 'women drivers' really are that bad!), and by the time I found the cave it was starting to get dark. I was just in time for the last guided tour. It wasn't in English, and there was a large party of Japanese clustered around their own guide who was translating loudly from Spanish, so I trailed at the end of the group, enjoying the astonishing rock features and wonderful colours.

The cave was carefully set up for tourists with walkways and indirect lighting. I felt completely safe, and yet utterly vulnerable with the weight of rock over my head. The strangeness and beauty of the caves made the idea of goblins seem not merely possible but likely. Despite the intense quietness of the caverns (apart, of course, from the noise of the tourists) sometimes I thought I could hear sinister whispers, which made me laugh to myself. The place certainly played on the imagination.

'Ali!' Almost a sigh. Soft. Seductive. It was funny how the whispers seemed to call me by name. I wondered whether the others could hear it too. 'Ali!'

By this time I was trailing quite far behind the group, and the whispers were clearer. It was getting difficult to dismiss them as my imagination. In fact, they seemed to be coming from part of the cave that branched away from the guided walk. I paused, looking at the entrance. It was narrow, but I would be able to squeeze through it, though my breasts would find it quite tight...

I shook my head, calling myself an idiot. I knew it was strictly forbidden to leave the path - but there was something about that entrance. It was dark beyond, but I could see that the cave opened up inside. And at that moment I was all alone, the guide party out of sight around a bend.

I turned to follow them, but my feet didn't move. 'Ali!' The whisper, still too soft to really believe in, called to me. I looked at that dark slit in the rock, a tingling excitement at the thought of forbidden adventure. Perhaps, I thought to myself, that's where the goblins live!

Checking around me guiltily, I assured myself that no one was watching, then stepped across carefully, quietly, to the entrance and worked myself through the narrow gap. My nipples brushed painfully against the rock, making me wish I'd worn a bra. (I usually don't. I find them very uncomfortable.)

To this day I don't understand why I went in there. It seems insane to me now. Perhaps I was under an enchantment, although I think the truth is I was just being stupid. The fear of being caught is an aphrodisiac, and I was certainly aroused by my trespass.

My eyes adjusted gradually to the dark, and I was able to see the shadowy outlines of the striated walls. The cave was more or less the size of my hotel room, the ceiling a little lower and with jutting stalactites so that I had to crouch as I felt my way around. My greatest worry was that the floor of the cave would give way and that I would plummet to my death in the depths of the world, but the ground proved to be solid and firm, if uneven.

It was at the very rear of the cave that I made my discovery. The ceiling became very low there, and the walls close together, so that my shoulders brushed lightly against both sides. The shadows there were deep, almost impenetrable, but something there could just be seen.

Jutting out from the back wall, pointing out and up, was a startling rock formation, having a shape very suggestive of a penis. Longer and thicker than any I'd ever had the pleasure of, more like what you would expect to see in a porn film. And it was smooth.

Yes, I touched it. Of course I did. How could I not. I ran my fingers along its length, feeling ridges and bumps and dents, but these had the smooth feel of polished marble. Was this really a natural rock formation, I wondered, or had I stumbled somehow onto an ancient chthonic temple with a hand-crafted phallus? I wondered how many other hands had caressed this proud shaft, whether any mouths had encompassed it, whether any woman had felt its cold, hard length inside her.

These imaginings were making me very wet, but I had no intention of indulging these fantasies. I needed to leave or I would be locked in the cave all night. Suddenly I heard the tour party shuffling past on their way up to the surface. I made my way to the cave entrance and waited for the last tourists to pass, then I squeezed myself out through the narrow gap.

At least I tried to, but couldn't figure out quite how. I kept getting stuck, and almost managed to wedge myself permanently in that space before working myself somehow back into the cave. I started to panic, and despite the inevitable embarrassment (and, potentially, criminal proceedings) I shouted for help, hoping desperately that someone would hear. For an hour I sat there listening intently for some sound, but there was only the occasional drip of water echoing through the empty caverns.

And then the lights went off.

It was utterly black. I was alone, trapped in the underworld, imprisoned by my own folly. I could only try to relax and rest until someone came. It would only be a few hours, half a day at worst.

But I was cold, and hungry, and time is meaningless without external reference. What seemed like hours were only minutes. There are only so many heartbeats you can count.

And then there was that. The phallic rock. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. Starved of sight, and of anything else to do, I was drawn to the back of the cave, my hands slowly searching for that intriguing projection. In the uncertain darkness the walls felt more confining, and the phallus, when at last I discovered it, felt thicker and longer than I remembered.

I ran my hands along it, delighting in its strength, its magnificence. With my other hand I tried to scratch the itch between my legs, but couldn't find a comfortable position.

Standing, I removed my shoes, trousers and knickers. There was no one to see me, after all, and I was then able to use the trousers to cushion my knees as I crouched once more in front of the phallus - almost as if in prayer, if this were indeed a temple.

In this position, not only was I able to stroke my clit with one hand while caressing the rocky member with my other, I was also perfectly positioned to take it into my mouth, to glide my lips about its thick head and lick the underside. I had always wondered what it would be like to give a blow job to a man so well endowed. All my previous boyfriends were small enough that I could swallow them whole without deep throating.

I was so wet. The cave echoed loudly with the squelching of my juices about my fingers. At first I tried to be quiet, but realised it was pointless to worry about anyone hearing, and after that it became a game almost to be as loud as possible. I moaned deliciously around the hard length in my mouth. I even tried speaking: 'I love the taste of your big, hard cock.' But that just sounded stupid.

I could have come like that, but more and more what I really wanted was to feel it inside me - if it would fit. I was determined to try. I stood, crouching, and backed up until I felt it press against my pussy lips. The phallus was smooth, and I had made the head very wet with my saliva, but it was still hugely thick.

I took my time, working the head in slowly, moving in short strokes until the pain of being stretched so wide changed to pleasure. Gradually I worked it deeper, lengthening my thrusts. They say size doesn't matter, but they're wrong. I was in heaven, my only thought being to take more of that great phallus into me. I was grunting and swearing as I fucked that thing, pressing it deeper and deeper into me, my thighs brushing the walls painfully as I pushed further and further back.

I could feel the most amazing climax coming. All I needed to do was touch my clit and I would have been screaming with ecstasy.

I got stuck. I'd wedged myself too deep. I couldn't move my hips. I cried out, mainly with frustration that my climb to the orgasmic heights had been interrupted. I tried to wriggle free but without success. I had this horrible thought that I would be stuck like that all night, that when my rescuers came the next day they would find me still impaled.

Suddenly I felt movement in me. The great phallus slowly pulled out, until the head nestled between my lips. Then it drove into me again, thrusting deep, and I gasped as it bumped against my cervix. The horror that had flooded me when it started moving evaporated swiftly under this delicious assault. The great stone cock fucked me with a steady rhythm, with long, deep strokes, and trapped as I was I could do nothing but enjoy it.

I reached to touch my clit, to encourage the orgasm that was waiting, but giant stone hands grabbed my wrists and held them firm, and the tempo of the fucking increased. I loved the feel of that cock in me, but it simply wasn't enough. I groaned with pain as I felt it expand within me, and then it erupted, jets of hot fluid against my cervix, filling my pussy with delicious heat, a long, powerful, pulsing orgasm that took me to the very edge of my own - but not over. I growled with frustration.

The phallus eased out of me, and a great river of its cum poured out between my lips with a clearly audible spurt. My thighs were already wet from the trickling of my own fluids, and now the sticky cum oozed down too.

Another giant pair of hands picked me up, the first pair still holding my wrists, and I was carried away screaming. In the blackness I had no idea which direction they were taking me, but I guessed it was deep into the mountain. I didn't know what they wanted with me, whether I would ever see the human world again.

They carried me a long distance, their footsteps loud and heavy. They ignored my questions, and my struggles had no effect. I was completely at their mercy.

When we came to a stop at last it was in a large cavern echoing with the sounds of a great deal of heavy movement, as if I were surrounded by stone giants. I was lowered gently to the ground and released.

I waited several minutes while the giants grumbled and mumbled around me, then a hand grabbed my head and guided it to a large phallus, slightly larger than the one I was already acquainted with. I understood what was desired of me.

My own sexual hunger, still unfulfilled, woke swiftly as I took that huge cock in my mouth and sucked. I ached to touch myself, but didn't dare, and instead used both hands to stroke and massage the thick length in front of me.

Hands lifted my hips until I was on my feet, although still bent over sucking enthusiastically. A different cock nudged against my pussy lips and pushed inside. I was still well lubricated from the earlier incident, so this was achieved without too much difficulty. It started fucking me, harder and harder, pushing me forwards onto the cock in my mouth, which thrust back, making me gag. I tried to take it deeper, remembering to breathe out before taking it into my throat, and slowly got the hang of it - I felt very proud of myself at that point.

Even so, I wasn't prepared for the huge volume of cum that suddenly flooded my throat and mouth and left me choking and gasping. The cock withdrew from my mouth, spraying my cheeks with its last few spurts while I struggled to swallow and to breathe. The cum tasted quite sweet, almost milky.

The cock in my pussy exploded, filling me with more hot cum. I was loving this, but I still wasn't getting what I really needed. Two more giants took their turns, filling my mouth and pussy with their rock hard members, and eventually with their cum. I don't know how many cocks I satisfied, I soon lost count, but by the time they were done my hands and knees were resting in a large puddle of their cum.

And I still hadn't come myself. It was so unfair. I felt exhausted, bruised and battered, my muscles aching, my face and legs slimy with their cum, and my shirt soaked with it. I deserved to come. I deserved an Earth-shattering orgasm.

Another cock pushed into me, stretching my pussy impossibly wide. I almost came just from the feel of it. I collapsed onto my elbows, my long hair falling into the cum puddle, as it fucked me slowly. My whole existence became the sensations of being fucked by that monstrous cock. I whimpered as a thick, slimy finger pushed into my virgin ass, a finger as long and thick as any of my past boyfriends' cocks.

I had to do it. I had to try. I reached underneath and rubbed my clit, and thanked God in my heart that this time they allowed it. I screamed as my climax exploded in me and my body convulsed through a series of almost electric shocks. I clenched so tightly against the cock in my pussy and the giant finger in my ass that I'm sure I would have torn off mere human appendages. And then the giant came too, and his flood of hot cum triggered a second fantastic climax for me.

He pulled out, and I collapsed into the expanding pool of cum, barely conscious, but utterly satisfied. For a long time I just lay there experiencing blissful orgasmic aftershocks.

Eventually they carried me out onto the hillside and left me by a stream, thoughtfully returning my clothes from the cave where this all started. I was able to wash in the stream and make myself look more or less presentable from a distance, but I don't think they'll ever get the stink of the giants' cum out of that rental car. Sometimes I can still smell it on me.