Tiny Wife's Tears and a Sudden Luxury Getaway
“Ughhh!! (Let me go! I gotta smash that guy's face in!)”
“...Darling.”
Her voice was soaked with emotion. Completely different from the languid tone from earlier. A voice damp with moisture.
“Yeah?”
“Am I... heavy?”
“Light as a feather, I told you.”
“Liar.”
Elma shook her head. She didn't lift her buried face.
“I know I'm heavy...”
“Not at all.”
“...”
Silence. She was changing the subject. It seemed like 'weight' was just an excuse. So what was the real thing she wanted to say?
Elma's tiny hand clenched into a tight fist. Her knuckles turned white.
“Um...”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“It's just...”
She hesitated for a long time. Her body trembled violently. Was it really that scary to say?
“...”
I just silently stroked her back. Until she felt reassured. Until she gathered the courage to speak.
The trembling against my palm gradually subsided.
“...Hey, Darling.”
After a long while, Elma hesitantly opened her mouth. Hesitation. Fear.
“When you're with other women... don't you like it better inside?”
“...Elma.”
My heart sank in an instant. It was a topic even I had been avoiding. Because it hurt her heart.
“Darling.”
Elma lifted her head. Her almond-shaped eyes brimmed with tears. Eyes full of sorrow.
“Sorry.”
“...”
“It's because of my body...”
Elma lowered her head. Looking down at her own tiny frame. With eyes that seemed to despise herself.
“You're so big. No, normal.”
Her gaze flicked toward my crotch, then hurriedly away.
“I'm too small... I can't even take you...”
“...”
“Other women do it all. They let you finish inside...”
Her voice trailed off into a whisper.
“I just rub... or use my mouth...”
“Elma.”
“It's no fun, right...? Aren't you sick of it...? Having to live like this forever with a girl like me...”
A sob. Finally, a tear dropped.
“Sob... Even if you run off with some other woman later... I wouldn't have anything to say... Someone like me...”
90cm tall. A dwarf with dwarfism, unusually tiny even among dwarves. A complex that had followed her her whole life. It turned into a knife before the one she loved. A knife stabbing herself.
I pulled Elma into a tight embrace.
“Why say such heartbreaking things?”
“But... sob.”
“Who said it's no fun? I love it so much I'm going crazy.”
“Liar! You can't even put it in, how could you like it?!”
Elma pounded my chest. It didn't hurt. Just an expression of her sorrow.
“I like it because it's you, Elma.”
“...Huh?”
“Touching this tiny body feels good, your skin smells amazing. I love hearing you moan.”
It was the truth. Penetration? Sure, I missed it sometimes. But it wasn't bigger than Elma herself.
“And do you know how it felt when you squeezed me with your breasts earlier?”
“...No.”
“I thought I'd melt right there. Most so-called legendary techniques couldn't even compare.”
“R-Really?”
Elma sniffled and looked up. Her face a mess of tears.
“Of course. Your skin feels so good. Rubbing and squeezing is more than enough for me.”
“...Not lying?”
“Have you ever seen me lie to you?”
Well, sometimes. But not now. I wiped her tears with my thumb. Kissed her puffy eyelids. Mwah.
“So don't think like that. I'm never running away.”
“...Okay.”
“I'm stuck with you forever. Where would I even go? You'd break my legs and drag me back anyway.”
“That's... obvious. You're mine, how dare you run...”
Still sniffling, but strength returned to her voice. Good.
“You're mine, Darling.”
“Yes, yes. As Her Majesty wishes.”
“Ugh, 'Her Majesty' again...!”
Elma squirmed. I scooped her up just like that. Rocked her gently like soothing a baby.
“Time to sleep. You must be tired.”
“Yeah... sleepy...”
Relief, maybe. Elma's eyes fluttered drowsily. She leaned her head against my chest.
“Darling...”
“Yeah.”
“Later...”
Elma whispered, pressing her small face firmly into my chest.
“Later, I'll work hard... and make it so you can put it in.”
“...”
“I'll practice. Even if it hurts, I'll endure...”
So admirable, so heartbreaking. I wanted to tell her not to push herself. But I couldn't crush her resolve here. That would only make it harder for her.
“Take it slow. We've got plenty of time.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We lay down on the rug. Cleanup could wait for tomorrow's me. Right now, sharing warmth with this tiny woman was more important.
Elma's breathing evened out. I closed my eyes too. I'd probably have to comfort her in my dreams.
The next morning.
“...Ugh.”
I opened my eyes. My back ached.
I looked beside me.
“Zzz... Snort... Mmm...”
Elma was sleeping blissfully, oblivious to the world. Drool pooling at her mouth. Grinding her teeth now and then. Kicked off the blanket, sprawled out like a starfish. Total beer-belly uncle pose.
Cute.
I chuckled and went to pull the blanket over her.
Thud. Something bumped my foot. An item on the floor.
“Huh?”
Looked like food packaging. I picked it up absentmindedly. Ingredient list on the back. Written in Arcadian script, but readable enough.
◈ Main Ingredients: Troll Testicle Extract, Mandrake Root, Ogre Bile...
“...”
Wait. Troll balls? Was I still dreaming?
I rubbed my eyes and read again. Same thing.
Potent aphrodisiac effects and prolonged erection induced.
“...Ha.”
No wonder. Yesterday was unusually hot. I didn't tire out.
She did it on purpose.
I looked at Elma on the rug. Her lips twitched in a smile. Even in sleep, dreaming something nice.
“Hehe... Darling... so strong...”
Sleep-talking. Guilty as charged. This sly little dwarf.
I couldn't help but laugh.
“Thanks. You saved my life.”
I pinched her cheek. Chewy.
“Mmm...?”
Elma squinted her eyes open.
“Darling...?”
“Wake up. Time for breakfast.”
“Ugh... five more minutes...”
She burrowed back into the blanket. I smiled wryly and got up.
My back hurt a bit. But it was a good morning.
Next time, I'll cook. At least my food doesn't scream.
“French toast for breakfast, plain and simple.”
I headed to the kitchen. The site of Elma's 'battle' yesterday. Gotta pull that kitchen knife out of the wall first.
One morning.
Thud!
“Ow!”
A dull sound. My scream burst out at the same time.
I'd banged my head on the top of the doorframe.
“Shit...”
The ceiling was still subtly low. I usually watched out, but half-asleep, I misjudged.
“Darling?!”
Elma came bounding over. Her eyes went wide seeing my hand clutching my head.
“Blood! Is there blood? Bones? Your skull didn't cave in, did it?!”
“No. Just bumped it a little.”
“Liar! That sound was huge! 100% concussion! You need an MRI!”
Elma jumped up and down. Ready to call an ambulance any second.
“Calm down. It's just a little swollen.”
“Show me!”
She yanked my collar. I lowered my head to her eye level. Elma stood on tiptoes, inspecting.
A small swelling.
“See? Told you it's nothing.”
“Tch...”
My nonchalant reaction. Meanwhile, Elma's eyes welled up like she was about to wail. Even blew on the spot. Such a fussbudget. Cute, though.
Then, Elma suddenly snapped her head up. Glaring at the ceiling. Murderous eyes.
“How dare you.”
Low, menacing voice.
“This shitty house hits the master? My Darling, no less?”
“Elma?”
“Unforgivable. Time to tear this wretched dump apart and fix it.”
The real wretched thing was Elma's head, always scheming accidents. ...I swallowed that.
“Knew you were thinking something rude.”
Sharp intuition.
Elma snapped her fingers.
“Hey! Tin cans, assemble!”
Drills and hammers at the ready, golems popped out from everywhere. Waddling noisily.
One oblivious glitch in the mix. Probably a leftover setting.
“Prep for construction now.”
Elma clenched her fist.
“Raise the ceiling! High enough that Darling can sergeant-jump without hitting his head! As high as possible!”
“That'll make it a huge project. I can just be careful...”
“No way! I can't stand seeing you get hurt!”
Stubborn as ever. Fine, I'd go along.
But practical issue.
“To raise the ceiling, don't we need to vacate the house?”
Normal renos take days.
“Yeah. About 3 nights, 4 days?”
“Where do we sleep meanwhile?”
Elma puffed up proudly. Pulled out a card. Shiny black thing, looked fancy.
“Don't worry! This is why I make money!”
Freckles dancing as she grinned.
“Hotel-cation time, Darling.”
Decisive. Nice.
“And drag that 'Your Majesty' guy off and give him a good thrashing!”
“This guy's persistent too!”
A 5-star hotel in Seoul. Towering skyscraper. I stood in the lobby. With a small bundle in my arms.
“...”
Elma. Wearing my hoodie again today. Hood pulled low, face hidden. Limbs tucked inside. Just a big lump of clothing hanging off me.
Hates people's stares. Elma's stubbornness. So she was clinging to me again.
“Welcome, sir.”
The staff smiled kindly. Then glanced down. Spotted the clothing lump.
Squirm. Elma shifted inside the hoodie. Tiny movement.
Staff's eyes: me, hoodie, me again. Kind smile with one line.
“Here with your daughter? She's shy, huh? Adorably so.”
Twitch. In my arms. Elma froze stiff.
“...”
Silence. Snorting breaths from the hoodie. Small fist thump on my chest.
“...Daughter?”
“Yes? Oh, niece maybe?”
Staff obliviously twisted the knife. Elma trembled with rage. Mumbling leaked from the clothes.
“...Hey.”
“S-Stay still!”
I hugged her tight hurriedly. This hot-tempered professor was seconds from exploding.
One shout and we'd be internet-famous.
'Where do I look like I have a daughter?! This is my wife!' Obvious repertoire. Say that, and we're tabloid fodder.
“Ah, haha... She's shy around strangers.”
“Ah, yes... Presidential Suite... Key here...”
Staff handed the cardkey with shaky hands. I bolted to the elevator.
Elma thrashed and muffled inside.
“Ughhh!! (Let me go! I gotta smash that guy's face in!)”
“Calm down! Everyone's staring!”
Pinching, punching chaos from the hoodie. My solar plexus and ribs were toast.
Really. Unmanageable wife.