Leira had been playing alone for a while when he lost focus and began wandering restlessly around the office, idly touching everything in sight. The room’s interior changed every quarter due to the Guildmaster’s extravagant tastes, and this season’s theme was teal and white. Even without its owner present, the meticulously arranged office made him feel pampered. Excited, Leira hummed the kingdom’s national anthem as he absentmindedly opened the desk drawers one by one—until he reached the last one.
SLAM.
“…….”
Why the hell is something like this in here?
His heart pounding, Leira glanced around the empty room before cautiously reopening the drawer.
“……E-Edwin…!”
How could such a monstrous thing be hidden in this elegant cherrywood desk? Trembling, he pinched the very tip of the object between his fingers. The texture alone made his skin crawl.
“Ugh!”
He shrieked and hurled it onto the desk, where it clattered against the wood.
It was a wooden dildo.
“Fuck! Fuck!”
Leira, who couldn’t even glare properly at Edwin, now cursed freely, stomping his foot in fury. The plush carpet fibers bent beneath his polished leather shoes.
This office was a space Edwin had personally designed—only Leira, Edwin, Rowan, and Mari had access. Unless Rowan or Mari had lost their minds (which they hadn’t), the culprit was obvious. Leira stared at the wooden dildo from a safe distance, his face pale.
The dark reddish-brown wood had been carved with grotesque precision—veins bulging in relief, the glans thick and pronounced, even a pair of firm, rounded balls attached at the base. It smelled faintly sweet, as if oiled or scented, and the surface was eerily smooth, almost moist.
Wait… does this look like—?
Leira’s stomach twisted. Could this be a miniature of Edwin’s cock? It was nowhere near the real thing’s size—Edwin’s was so massive that if left on the roadside, housewives would mistake it for a laundry bat. But the proportions—the length, the girth, the swollen veins—were unmistakably his.
“No way,” Leira muttered, shaking his head. That narcissist would never commission a scaled-down version of his pride and joy. He’d demand a life-sized replica—or bigger. Leira sighed, disgusted with himself for even considering the psychology of such a deviant.
“Understanding a freak just makes you one too.”
A sane person wouldn’t get it. Resolved, Leira reached for the dildo to toss it away—but his hand trembled. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed it. The weight was substantial, though nothing compared to Edwin’s actual monstrosity.
He examined the damp, velvety texture. No residue, yet it felt slick, as if lubricated. Curiosity won. Leira inspected it closely.
“Nggh…”
The craftsmanship was flawless. Every vein, every contour seemed alive, as if the wood itself might twitch. The artisan had coaxed the grain into mimicking flesh—no easy feat. This level of skill was rare, even in the kingdom. A master who could carve any material like an extension of their own body.
Impressed, Leira adjusted his posture, leaning in to sniff. A floral, fruity scent tickled his nose. He inhaled deeply—too deeply. His head spun. Blinking slowly, he stroked the dildo, savoring the texture: like velvet, like rain-slicked branches.
His fingers traced the ridges of the glans, the throbbing veins, the satisfying heft—
And just like that, his mind filled with Edwin.
If only Edwin were this size. The first time Leira had seen that thing, he’d nearly fainted. Log? Giant loofah? No branch could compare. How it even fit inside clothes defied physics. Did Edwin’s pants have a pocket dimension?
Years of taking that beast had expanded him, but he’d never fully adjusted. No human should have to swallow something the length of a grown man’s forearm. Except, apparently, him.
Pushing aside the memory of drooling around that girth, Leira flushed, fondling the wooden dildo. This was manageable. This he could take without prep. He sighed, recalling Edwin’s habit of forcing himself in dry—like that morning he’d been mid-tea when Edwin pounced, making him vomit his breakfast and piss himself in the process.
Prep was necessary.
A sane person would demand it. Glancing at the clock—Edwin had two hours left in meetings—Leira kicked off his shoes. One flew across the room, clinking against a porcelain vase. He didn’t care. His focus was on the dildo.
He stripped off his pants. Better to stretch now.
Memories surfaced: Edwin tearing into him, blood dripping from a fresh rip, while the bastard licked his lips like a predator savoring prey. It had only bled that once—afterward, Edwin at least pretended to be gentle. But size was absolute. You couldn’t shove a mastodon through a needle’s eye.
Naked from the waist down, Leira unbuttoned his shirt. His nipples, paler than his asshole, pebbled in the cool air. He hoisted his legs onto the desk—ah, this angle!—spreading himself open. The dildo looked almost dainty compared to Edwin’s, but it was still thick. Grinning, he lined it up and—
“Hyaaang!”
The slick head breached him, and his hole burned—like fire, like thorns. His nipples hardened, aching for a mouth. Panting, he wriggled, pulling the dildo out. His toes curled. Stars exploded behind his eyelids.
What the—?
He’d endured everything from Edwin, but this sensation was new. Heart racing, he tried again, pressing the tip to his hole. Maybe going slow—
“Aah!”
His hungry hole swallowed the glans whole. The heat was intense, though it barely grazed his sweet spot. Just the stretch felt like being pounded. Moaning, he spread his legs wider, rocking his hips.
“Ah, ah, nngh, uh, uh—”
He worked it in and out, his ass dripping, gaping. Distantly, he was glad the office was deep inside the Guild.
Because—
“Aah! Ah! Aaaah—!”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
