The Black Rose Legacy Ch. 03

After that fateful night, Polly moved into my wagon and used hers just for her wardrobe. There had been no discussion about it; after supper she'd simply followed me into my wagon and curled up next to me on my bed, kissing me goodnight -- multiple times -- before setting in with her little arms wrapped around my chest.

Although it was slightly uncomfortable, out of consideration for her modesty I slept in my coveralls. Her kisses always had the effect of giving me a tremendous erection; some nights it was almost painful, and I didn't want her seeing my excitement for fear of scaring her. Often times I would need to get up in the middle of the night and go outside the camp to relieve the pressure she'd built up in my male parts.

Now I was really in a quandary. I loved this woman so much and physically longed for her, but how could this even work? If Polly were a normal-sized woman it would have not been too difficult, but she was so tiny and delicate I was consumed with fear that due to my size, if we got physical I'd somehow hurt her.

My inner turmoil began to affect my performances. As I worried internally about Polly's safety, I unconsciously scaled back on the level of force I used to shake the bars of my cage during my act. More and more often, the force that I used was insufficient to make the door fly open so I could savagely emerge; instead, the door just unlatched, sometimes without swinging open at all.

One night, before I could emerge from the cage to roar at the crowd, an alert little boy in the front row jumped to his feet and fearlessly slammed the cage door shut. The audience applauded as if he were a hero! Since the crowd enjoyed it, no harm was done, but to me it was embarrassing. When Professor Love heard about it, he asked me if I was not feeling well, so I lied and told him I was distracted by someone smoking in the crowd. Because of the fire risk, cigarettes and pipes were forbidden inside the tents, so the boss accepted my answer, letting the matter drop.

Then one night something happened that really sent my head spinning. It was impulsive, raw and instinctual, coming from a place deep within me. As we lay together one night, I began to sing a song without words to Polly, crooning like my father used to for my mother. It was my Sasquatch heart bonding with her. If any doubt remained in my mind about having Polly as my mate forever, it was gone now.

When I finished, Polly pulled herself up onto my chest so that she could kiss me. "That was nice. What was that?"

"It was an old Sasquatch bonding song," I told her, "it wasn't deliberate, it just came out. Remember how I told you how Sasquatch typically bond for life? My singing means I'm yours forever, if you want me, that is."

Polly's eyes quickly moistened, and the next thing I knew tears were rolling down her face. Then she clutched the fur on my chest, buried her face in it and began sobbing.

Unsure of what was happening, I gently asked her, "Have I hurt you?"

Her voice muffled under my fur, she answered, "No, not at all. You've made me very happy." I'd never seen a Sasquatch woman cry, so this was a complete mystery to me.

"I don't understand," I told her. "You're so perfect, and I'm just a big clumsy oaf."

She lifted up her head, and seemed angry now. She began to scold me. "Gus Haggerty, how dare you say that! You are NOT a big clumsy oaf!" Then she calmed down, and seemed sad again. This was all very confusing.

She went on to explain, "I'll bet because of your size, people have always treated you like an adult. Not me. I'm a mature woman, yet because of my size people always treat me as if I'm a child, except for you, Gus. The way you act around me, the way you touch me, just the way you look at me -- you make me feel like a real woman. On top of all that, you asked me to promise that I'd always love you."

She lifted her face and I bent mine down so she could kiss me softly. "You're the only man who's ever wanted me to promise that. Do you know how that makes me feel, to know I'm that important to you?"

I felt her hand caress my face; my heart felt like it was going to burst with what I felt for this woman. "You are important to me," I told her, "because of you I don't feel alone any more. You're a part of me now, which is why I'm so afraid I'll lose you."

She sighed, and then in a soft voice said, "I made a promise to you. If you're still afraid I might leave you, then I haven't been a very good sweetheart, have I? Tomorrow night, I promise I'll make things right." She slid off my chest and down next to me, then took my hand and guided it to her bottom. It felt very good. She kissed my chest and murmured, "Good night, my sweet prince." Moments later, her breathing became slow and regular as she slipped into dreamland.

Not for the first time, this tiny angel-made-flesh had spun my emotions like the bobbin of a spinning wheel, while at the same time bringing my maleness fully erect. Tonight, though, there would be no self-relief; I would suffer through it, with my hand covering that soft bottom of hers staying right where it belonged. And, heaven forbid, if anyone should try to hurt Polly now, they were as good as dead.

In the morning, the normally slow-to-wake Polly popped out of bed, cheerful and upbeat. Before I could say or do anything, she'd covered my face with kisses, then pulled me out of bed to do our morning routine of washing up and putting on our performance outfits. On the way to breakfast in the mess tent, she affectionately squeezed my bottom! It was a nice way to start a workday, I must admit.

We did two shows that morning, but then a rainstorm blew through, so we called it a day and rested. As we sat together at supper that night, Polly mentioned that everyone in the carnival she'd spoken with lately had gone out of their way to be polite as possible. "Good," I replied, "They damned well better." Then right there in the mess tent, I impulsively pulled her into my lap and brazenly kissed her in front of everyone.

Polly promptly surprised me by reciprocating my affection, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck and kissing me back. Then she whispered, "I want those busybodies to know you're all mine, Gus. Tonight, I'm officially claiming you."

I had no idea exactly what Polly meant by that, but I felt a thrill run up my spine after she said it -- it was a very aggressive Sasquatch female thing to do. And when we went back to my wagon after our evening meal to bed down, she showed me as soon as the door was closed.

Pointing at the bed, she brusquely ordered, "Take your clothes off. NOW. You're my man, I want to see you naked." While clothes or the lack thereof means nothing to a Sasquatch, suddenly, I found myself being shy. I'd been sleeping in my coveralls wanting to keep my member hidden so as not to frighten her. (For my own amusement I'd measured it one night, and it was 18" long when erect. Not as long or as thick as my father's, but it was still over a third of Polly's 44" height.) Tonight, though, there was no hiding anything from my determined little love. I did as I'd been instructed, and there it was. My limp member was hanging there fully revealed, 14" of pale pink against my black fur.

Polly nodded admiringly, then pointed for me to sit on the edge of the bed. She began to slowly remove her clothing. When I took her from Sergei, she'd been wearing a nightdress that covered her completely. I'd felt her soft bottom in my hand, but had no idea what it or the rest of her body looked like. That quickly changed.

Lighting a few candles and smiling seductively, she removed her dress to reveal the petticoat beneath it. She teased me, "Would you like to see more, Gus?"

My throat somewhat dry now, I croaked, "Yes, please."

"Close your eyes and keep them closed," she commanded, "and keep your hands at your sides." As my love's obedient servant, of course I obeyed. I felt a garment land on my head at the same time I heard Polly giggle. My nose detected a new scent along with her familiar body scent. I realized I was smelling her excitement. I felt her climb up into my lap, her naked skin now pressed against my growing member. "I'm naked in your lap, Gus. If you'd like, you can touch my body now, but keep your eyes closed."

Unable to speak, I nodded. I opened one eye slightly, but her petticoat was positioned perfectly to block my view. Clever girl. I lifted my hands and began to gently caress her little body, and I couldn't recall ever feeling anything as soft as her naked skin. Her bottom, her breasts, they felt like silk beneath my fingertips. My erection was definitely making its presence known.

I felt her lift the petticoat and press her lips to mine. "Such strong hands, but so gentle," she murmured, "I love the feel of them on my body." Then she reached down and stroked my excited appendage. "I like the feel of this, too." I moaned, the pleasure of her touch being almost too much to bear. "This is all mine, my love. I'm claiming it." I felt her hips began to move ever so slightly, and she began grinding her womanhood against my now rock-hard member, her warm slickness sliding on it.

"I'm about to make you feel very good, my love," she whispered. Then she moved around, and suddenly the tip of my phallus was engulfed by a warm wetness, interspersed with little tongue flicks. I moved my hands out until my fingers encountered the softness of her bottom. As Polly lay in my lap using her mouth to pleasure me, my fingers moved up between her thighs and encountered the folds of her feminine portal. I began to gently stroke her there, and was rewarded by pleasured groans around the tip of my rigid maleness.

As Polly continued to pleasure me, I felt her fingers exploring the fur around my scrotum, tenderly stroking it as if it were a baby bunny. I felt a climax approaching, and I gasped, "Polly, I'm almost..." then suddenly, with a shudder and a groan, I exploded. Despite the torrent of my seed filling her mouth, my mate remained resolute, gulping down as much of my issue as possible. I'd experienced climaxes before, but only by my own hand. My pint-sized consort had just given me sensations I'd never felt in my entire life!

Once I'd recovered from the shock, I took the petticoat off my head and gazed at her. She wore a mischievous smile, the overflow of my juices dripping off her chin. Breathing hard from her efforts, her tiny breasts were heaving, and her nipples were pink and hard. "I've never seen such a beautiful woman in all my life," I told her, and could not stop myself from picking her up and placing her gently on her back. "I have to have you." I gently spread her thighs apart, and savored the alluring scent between her legs. I kissed her inner thighs, then directed my lips and tongue to her welcoming womanhood.

As I performed my soft ministrations on her garden of Eden, she put her heels into the bed and pushed her mound back against me. I looked quickly up at her and was struck not only by her beauty in the throes of passion, but also by the sounds of pleasure issuing from her sweet mouth. I returned to my attentions, and was rewarded by her shaking and then going completely stiff as a climax swept over her.

Once she relaxed and her breathing returned to normal, I kissed my way up her belly, giving equal attention to each of her pert nipples. Then my lips met hers, and we exchanged a long and wonderful kiss, our chins sloppy with our mutual juices. "Polly," I whispered, "I never knew it could be this way."

She buried her face in the fur on my chest, wiping her chin clean. "Oh, we're not even done yet," she said, her voice firm and commanding once more, "I have a surprise for you, don't you dare move."

Fairy-like, she flitted to a drawer next to the bed and retrieved a small jar of some kind of ointment. When she opened it, a spicy sweet smell filled the room. Dipping three fingers into it, my pint-sized Cleopatra brought out some salve and, using both of her hands, began rubbing up and down my now-flaccid member; due to this new attention, the flaccidness immediately disappeared, and I became rigid again.

As she ministered to my aroused member, Polly told me, "Madame Omerta came to me a few days ago and apologized for her indiscretions with Sergei. I told her she was forgiven, and that he was nothing to me since I have you." She stopped and gently squeezed the tip of my member. "I do have you, do I not, my love?"

My pleasure was so intense I was fighting to concentrate, but gasped, "Yes, Polly, you have me! I swear!"

My miniature mistress chuckled to herself and resumed her rubbing. "Good. As a gesture of good will, Madame Omerta also gave me this special ointment. It's a marital aid she sells to local women having trouble accommodating their husbands; it both lubricates and soothes a woman's delicate areas." I was completely hard now, and felt my male organs pleading for release.

Scooting up my chest to give me another kiss, she then pushed herself downwards; we were belly to belly, and I felt her digits positioning my member at the slit between her nether lips. She moved downwards a few more inches, and incredibly, I felt my hardness enter her! I groaned with pleasure, much more loudly this time.

Totally in control now, Polly uttered, "I have to take it slowly, this might take a bit for me to get used to you, my love. Please be patient."

"Oh, yes, please, this is so good," was about all I could muster.

Then I felt her move again, and felt myself an inch deeper. I heard Polly gasp, but whether in pain or pleasure, I couldn't tell, so I asked, "Does it hurt?"

"No, I'm being stretched, but I'm enjoying it," she whimpered, then pushed herself a little further down and cried out, "AHH!"

I felt the tip of my staff bump against something hard. "That's about as far as we can go for now," she said to me. Looking down, I could see I was inside her for a good five inches. Given our size disparity, this was pretty amazing. "This feels heavenly, my angel," I murmured.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet, Augustus," she snapped, the authoritarian tone back in her voice. "You just lay back and let me pleasure you."

I'd thought I'd already experienced plenty of pleasure when she'd worked that magic with her mouth on me, but Polly's carnal choreography was not yet finished. Now impaled on my stiffness, she began to move her hips like one of the carnival's hoochie-coochie sideshow dancers. The feeling was incredible!

I blurted out, "Oh, Polly, this is wonderful! Have the dancers been giving you lessons?"

I noticed the pale skin above my love's breasts begin to flush, the scent of her excitement was strong again, and her breathing was becoming ragged. "A woman...never...gives up...her secrets," she responded, and I felt the muscles in her already-tight womanhood begin to clamp on me even tighter. As she continued to shimmy, I felt my loins beginning to surge again.

At the same time, I felt Polly shudder and begin to stiffen. Tossing her head back, she seemed to lose her ability to speak. "Oh, GUS! So GOOD! I...AHHH..." and then she let out a loud shriek that belied her small stature.

I followed moments later, emitting a joyful Sasquatch roar as I filled her womb with my seed. She'd earlier described herself as a barren dwarf, but at that moment, to me she was the essence of femininity. She'd proclaimed she loved me, and tonight we'd coupled in an exquisite manner; according to the ways of the Sasquatch, she was now my mate forever.

As we lay together in the afterglow of our passion, I stroked her face and she mine. Then the words impulsively came out of my mouth, "Polly, I want to marry you."

She sat straight up, and for a moment I was diverted by the sight of those tantalizing bare pink nipples. As if in shock, she asked "What did you say?"

"I said I want us to be married. The next stop on the tour will be Seattle. Tomorrow, let's ask Professor Love to help us get a marriage license and find us a clergyman and a jeweler." Then I paused, realizing that I was missing one thing: Polly's answer. "Will you marry me, Polly?"

Overjoyed, she replied "Yes, Gus, I would love to be Mrs. Haggerty."

We were in Professor Love's wagon right after breakfast the next day. This was when I began to realize how smart and business savvy my future wife really was. The Professor was delighted at the idea of two of his star performers getting married, but hadn't thought about everything that might entail. Polly had, and explained what it all could mean.

"When two dwarf stars in Barnum's circus got married, the publicity they got out of it was tremendous! Think about how much publicity the carnival will get when the Missing Link Giant and Polly The Pint-Sized Pianist get married in Seattle! When Gus goes to a jeweler to get rings, a tailor to get a wedding suit, a dress shop for my bridal gown, or a barber shop to shave Gus's handsome face, if we have a newspaper photographer there, those businesses will get publicity too! I'll bet if you start contacting them, they'll probably give us services for free, or at a serious discount!"

I interrupted, "You want me to shave my face?" This kind of shocked me; I hadn't been barefaced since I was 9 years old!

Polly put her little hand on mine and squeezed it. "When I get married, I want the world to see my new husband's handsome face." Just that little contact made me want to immediately take Polly back to the wagon and couple with her. I was amazed at how this powerful little person held me in such thrall.

Polly's prediction proved completely correct, of course. Professor Love contacted the Seattle Puget Times, and they sent a reporter and a photographer to cover everything. The day I went to the barbershop, there was a crowd four people deep watching through the window. They had to remove the barber chair arms for me to be able to sit on the chair. I noticed the barber's hands shake a bit as he stropped the thin straight razor.

I put my hand on his arm and said reassuringly, "My friend, you need to relax. I'm the one who'll be getting married, believe me, I'm nervous enough for the both of us."

At that remark, he laughed and relaxed. He started off by oiling up my facial hair, then applied a hot towel for a while to soften it. This was actually quite relaxing, and felt so good I decided not to wait another 15 years before getting another shave. He shaved my forehead, cheeks, nose, chin and neck, then cleaned off all the shaving cream and held a mirror for me to see. I was shocked; it was my grandfather Adam's face looking back at me!

Sitting up, I turned to the observers outside the shop and shouted, "How do I look?" They all applauded. The photographer took a picture of the barber and me shaking hands, which then made the front page of the Seattle Puget Times the next day. I'm sure that years later, a framed copy will still be hanging in that barbershop.

When I went to the jeweler's shop, I gave him a bag of gold nuggets that was given to me by Grandfather Adam from his gold prospecting days to make our rings. I gave the jeweler permission to make two sets, one for the wedding and one to display in his shop. I heard he was charging men 50 cents just to try my duplicate on.

The photographer got a nice photo of the tailor using a ladder to take my measurements for my wedding suit, and later at the shoemaker, a photo of my foot next to a regular human foot while getting my foot measurements. In both cases, as chosen business of the Missing Link Giant, their business increased significantly. We also got a suit and shoes for my best man, Freddy the Alligator Boy.

While all this was going on during the day, evening attendance at the carnival increased significantly, crowded to the point where we sometimes had to turn people away. Professor Love was beside himself with glee, and hired more acts like jugglers and clowns to entertain them. Polly and I still put on our evening performances; her piano performance remained the same, but my old 'escaping the cage' act had been replaced by me performing feats of strength.