Get In My Swamp

by G.M. Fairy

To anyone who feels like they have as many layers as an onion.

Actually, pretty easily because he is as bland and stereotypical as a three-ingredient recipe.

My rationale for trapping and eating them is that they clearly want to die. I mean, there’s a sign, come on.

I’m the only ogre in my community. It can be rather lonely being the only seven-foot, green, hilarious, and gut-wrenchingly handsome creature around, but it’s a cross I bear.

Who has nightmare sex dreams about their fiancé?

Until then, I’ll be taking a solo walk into the forest. What’s the worst that can happen?

Tie her up and have my way with her? Absolutely yes. Kill her? Hell no.

She kicks me in the chest and scratches my arms. It doesn’t hurt, though. Honestly, it just makes my dick even harder.

I’ve always been a gentleman. An ogre, but a gentleman, nonetheless. Tonight, I’ll just defile her in my dreams.

It must be her rack. A nice pair of tits always ruins a man’s judgment.

“Ah, shut up, man. Her panties are probably soaking just thinking about you. You know all the women in the village want you.

I think the feminist gods will forgive me if I use a little seduction to get out of the clutches of an ogre. Fuck that guy. Operation Pussy-Trap, commence.

She doesn’t seem like the type of girl to swoon over such basic decencies, such as not eating her, but maybe my good buddy Stockholm will help me out.

Liona, get a hold of yourself! This is Operation Pussy-Trap, not Operation Stockholm Syndrome!

“Thanks.” He blushes, and honestly, it’s kind of endearing What’s wrong with me?! This guy just told me he ate people, and now I think he’s endearing.

He could break my neck without even exerting much energy, and for some odd reason, that turns me on. God, do I need a therapist.

I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed to discover he’s wearing pants, but not just any pants, no, gray sweatpants. Are you shitting me? They have gray sweatpants in his secluded wilderness village?

“Please don’t run away from me again. I can’t protect you if you leave,”

She can’t leave. She’s mine.

“Liona, I love you. I want what's best for you. How can you be happy in my swamp?”

“It’s not just a swamp. It’s a swamp with you. How can I be happy with anything less?”

Why don’t you take a shower? I’m making waffles.”