Fate Deals the Cards

  Temperance

  Ch 6 From The Windows To The Walls

  “Be careful with that mighty spear, strange, gentle goblin… I’m new at this! Don’t burst my guts!” Murmurred my friendly new friend with the grabby hands and can-do attitude. She tugged me along by a convenient leash provided by nature to a patch of soft, lush lawn by the pool where I often napped. I noticed that it was also a spot that could be spied on from a tall willow tree near his border.

  “Been watching me?” I asked very softly and carefully, for her benefit and mine.

  “I is suffering tummytime, not deadly-dumb-stupids.” She grumbled. “I watched and wondered for long nights out here. You could have tracked me down and had me… I waited, kinda hoping, but mostly too scared.”

  I followed her out onto the grass, where she laid back, still pulling me along carefully with her sharp little claws holding my ‘leash’. She stood almost a foot shorter than me and was painfully thin, despite still boasting a bit of hip, booty and boobage. She pulled me down above her and released me with a definite shudder of fear running through her body.

  Her bright green skin was damp and clean from the bath, shining, slickly under the stars. Her modest breasts jiggled sweetly as she trembled in the warm night air. “Why, subbie? Why didn’t you come for me and why don't you smell of goblin man?”

  “Not subbie! GhnashWharrgh!” I growled slowly, embracing my new name fully. “I’m dangerous and you smell tasty…”

  “Tummytime, chief Ghnash. No gobb man can resist the scent of a ripe, unfilled tummy.” She whispered, her fear subsiding slowly as her treasure box remained un-plundered by the hungry pirate dangling meatily between us, radiating an almost uncomfortable heat and throbbing to my heartbeat.

  My member rested on her belly, as I kneeled above her, the great knobby head reaching almost to her bouncy little boobs. It was absurd, obscene and impossible that it would fit, without just straight up murdering her.

  “Nub a submissive, yet I’m still unbroken, gobb man.” She whispered hungrily. “What are you, then?”

  “I is a man first. Distant second, is goblin, girl.” I snarled, wrestling my hunger for all I was worth. She smiled up at me and gave a wriggle that brought even more warm, slippery girl’flesh in contact with me.

  “Show me, then. I won’t break, if you dont go mad.” She purred. “Beryl wanted to hide me till her next season, so she could find me a mate better than her first was.” She muttered idly, as if I had any clue what she was rambling about.

  It was all made more complicated by the ringing and rushing of blood in my ears, as she resumed stroking the dangerous thing lurking between us and waiting to pounce, if my attention lapsed.

  “I think I’m safe, with you, strange goblin. Safe as can be.” She leaned down and planted a sweet, chaste kiss on Ghnash junior, where he was trembling and throbbing between those bouncy, dark-green tipped mounds of delightful girl meat. “Now stick that thing in me until I say enough.”

  /

  Beryl watched from a tree, paralyzed with fear as her little sister approached that weird goblin man, while he was floating in that awful puddle of steaming water. When Emmie slipped into that pool and started touching him, she almost screamed in grief. Many goblin girls died after their first time… If they were handled too roughly by brutish gobbs with more cock than sense, or savaged by a male driven wild by his hunger and curse. Poor Emmie’s first tummytime came at the start of winter, when the forbidden herb was hard to find.

  Chief Bagguz was a brute, cruel at the best of times, as Beryl knew all too well. She wanted desperately to spare Emmie that, at least for another season, but fate remained unkind. They’d planned to flee even before the runner came demanding all gobb girls and their female pups be sent to the human town; that just made the decision a simple one.

  Now poor Emmie was down there, with that savage on top of her grunting away on the grass, under the clear light of the stars. Beryl blushed bright pink, when her sister’s sweet voice raised in a triumphant shout of pain, pleasure and victory, while the goblin man collapsed to the grass, shuddering with agony.

  “By the stars… where did she fit all that?” Beryl murmured softly as she slipped back to the lodge, tears of sorrow in her eyes. She and Saphie would flee before dawn, so her daughter could survive… Someday she would come back for poor lost Emmie!

  Beryl was carefully deciding which of her shiny rocks would fit in the willow basket with their foodstores, before she could take her daughter and flee; when Emmie strolled into the lodge, looking very pleased with herself.

  “Sister, come out and meet our new husband.” She cooed warmly, a smile smeared all over her face.

  Beryl sat, frozen in horror and fear, as something moved in the darkness behind Emmie, something large and green skinned.

  “Come out. Won’t hurt you. Any of you. Promise.” He spoke haltingly, through a mess of jagged, tangled teeth and a savage, feral sneer.

  “Promise!” He insisted, holding out a huge, taloned hand. Emmie just nodded and smiled like an idiot, so clearly delighted at her awful betrayal.

  Slowly, Beryl crawled out of the beaver lodge, holding her daughter close, hoping the goblin wouldn’t notice her… “Let him hold Saphie, sister!” Emmie purred happily. “He will like her!”

  The beast held out his claws for her tiny, helpless gobbling and drooled a runnel of bloody stuff down his chin in anticipation. Helplessly Beryl held up her first child… Saphire, the daughter of that filthy brute Bagguz, but so sweet and innocent, those cruel claws took her away and lifted her up to those awful, slavering jaws…

  The goblin man giggled childishly and tickled the smiling, cooing babe under her chin. He tucked her in a sling of his own and held his hand out for Beryl’s. “Come to house. Get warm. Eat. Is safe.” He turned and strolled off into the slowly gathering morning, leading the way back to the strange house in the moors.

  /

  Emmie’s tummytime problem continued almost all spring. no matter how many times she leapt on me, or I dragged her, giggling and struggling in fake distress, off into the back side of the garden. Beryl worried and grumbled constantly, as the weeks went on and her little sister’s ‘condition’ failed to improve.

  “Drink it, Emmie. This useless gob man can’t seem to get you properly baby-full.” She scolded the smaller girl, holding a cup of something foul smelling and evil looking.

  “Nub nub! Not til I’m carrying his pup!” Emmie barked and giggled, shoving the baby-not root brew away. “I like gettin’ smushed, anyway!” She sighed warmly, snuggling in with her sister and niece for a nap in the sunshine, while I was busy in the workshop, listening in.

  “Wait til husband Ghnash stirs your guts around some, you’ll see!” She cooed, giving her little niece a fond kiss. “When your next season comes, you’ll see.”

  It wasn’t long before Saphie’s teeth came in, prompting a rapid shift to soft foods, since baby goblin teeth come in super sharp and really early. She took to solid food with gusto and kept growing so fast, it was pretty scary. Her vocabulary grew by the day as did her endless curiosity about the strange things scattered around the house.

  The four of us made a happy little home in the marsh that spring. Sapphire took over the house and ruled it with an iron fist, bringing cheerful and innocent fun into the place, where silence had lingered so long.

  My panflute brought music and dance into the world, drawing the girls into wild, spinning flights of fancy on the lawn as they discovered a new world, where safety, sweet music and peace were possible.

  Goblin music was as simplistic as their society, primitive and thoughtless, but the spark of joy, creativity and innovation lived in the girls; they took those ideas and made them their own in ways that often surprised me.

  Beryl taught me how to spin silk stolen from the webs of giant spiders, into shining thread that gleamed like polished silver. Emmie knew more about the fine art of foraging for bugs and worms than I suspected could be known… It also gave us a fine excuse to wander the back yard alone.

  Late spring was moping along, complaining about summer barging in, when another goblin woman appeared at my border. She was tall, with long, pale pink hair and a slim, lithe build that whispered awful ideas in my mind, even as I caught her scent on the breeze.

  She skulked in the distance, hiding in the treeline for half a day, until Emmie went out and brought her in, clutching the taller woman by the hand and chattering happily.

  “So long, thick and stiff! You’ll love it… I mean him!” She waved at me as they crossed into the garden proper, jumping up and down eagerly. “Ghnash! Come stick her good! I wanna watch while you do her!” The little monster chirped merrily.

  “M… me too.” Beryl murmured softly, looking a little embarrassed, while Emmie just laughed and laughed.

  “Remember, we all gotta share…” Emmie purred, as she led me off to the lawn out back with the new girl…

  “Sapphie, go take a nap.” Beryl gently shooed the giggling toddler into her basket bed by the hearth and followed her sister and the unnamed newcomer through the door and into a dream.

  “Petunia…” My leggy new paramour murmured in my ear, a while later, while I was still lodged firmly inside her. “Call me Petal… and give me more, deeper.” She gasped a moment later, as I complied. “How much more is there?” She asked Emmie, who was laying on her tummy, kicking her feet up, watching the action. The smiling, giggling little terror held her hands up, about four inches apart. “No, impossible…” Petal gasped around a belly-full of… me.

  “And miles to go, before you sleep.” Emmie cooed wickedly. “Tap out if you need to, that’s what friends are for!” she gave her round, plump bottom a playful swat, sending jiggles spreading over her rump in a way that encouraged me, which distressed poor Petal, who was at her limit.

  “Here, let me help! The green haired, golden eyed minx purred, as her blunt claws began jumbling my sack around, while her thumb circled my donut and nudged my pucker playfully. I jumped a little at her very intimate and tender touch, which made Petal squeal in mingled pain and pleasure as I blasted off in her.

  Emmie was right there to collect my dick for herself, as I slipped from the mess I’d made of Petal’s underside. She popped me in her mouth with a giggle of happiness, slurping and gobbling me back to full height, if still a little squishy. I cupped my hand to Emmie’s still swollen and tender goodies and sighed. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, lover. Don’t waste food.”

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  “Silly Ghnash, mouth stuff is just for funzies, and to get you back up. Babygoo is for making babies, no matter how tasty!” She purred, while leaving no trace of ‘babygoo’ on me, wherever her tongue could reach. She gave me a fondly mocking glare and shook her treat back and forth a little, to scold me.

  “This is for Beryl. Her time is starting, I know you smell her.” Emmie whispered, just a little sadly. “Stuff her good, but you gotta put a pup in me firsties, though. She has one already.”

  “I’m trying Emms… Really!” I sighed weakly. Weeks of pounding Emmie into goo, pint after pint of liquid goblin had produced no results, aside from smashed tenders and good feelings. I was beginning to worry I was shooting blanks.

  When the warm, soft, slightly plump body of Beryl slithered up beside me on the lawn, shyly reaching for her sister’s toy, it was too much to bear.

  Beryl didn’t fear me anymore, not even a little, but she feared my baby-stick something awful. Sapphie’s father had not been a tender lover, or a good person. Her brief ‘relationship’ with ‘chief Bagguz’ had resulted in Sapphie, after two long weeks of recovery from the entirely brutal, unpleasant and nonconsensual encounter.

  Emmie gave me a long lick and shook me at her older sister with a wide eager smile. “Petal, please go tend the baby… this could take a while.”

  Long, lanky and gray skinned Petal smiled at me, gave my dick a fond smile all his own and headed for the door with a wave. “Leave some for me, I’ll be hungry again later.”

  “There’s plenty, new-girl. Now skoot! We has priority!” Emie turned back to Beryl, ignoring me entirely, aside from the parts she had a firm hold of. She brandished me at her sister again and grinned. “Is good good. Nub hurts, except in the good ways!” She urged her reluctant sister.

  “Ghnash, you just lie there like a good boy and don’t move. This is a delicate operation!” She gave a few firm, friendly tugs and a kiss to her meaty prisoner, before turning back to Beryl.

  “Mount up! He will lay there and let you be in charge, or else no more mouth stuff! Emmie’s orders!” She shot me a wink and a fake glare for Beryl’s amusement as she held me out like an offering. “We’ll warm him up together… Take a nibble, he likes that a lot! Just don’t bite!”

  Warm, wetness and sharp teeth engulfed me, as I closed my eyes and forgot my doubts and fears, falling into the embrace of two women, one bold, eager and exhausted, the other fearful, unsure and desperate for a deep dicking at any cost.

  Summer came rolling in, with the warm weather, my garden flourished and expanded, while my lovely ladies did not… Petal, Emmie and Beryl all agreed, I had poured enough gobbling batter into them to create an army of messy little green snotlings, with no results.

  “Sorry, Ghnash…” Petal sighed one warm afternoon. “I need a baby in me soon, I ache for a pup to nurse.”

  “I told when you arrived… welcome. Stay if wish, go if must, can return. Ghnash will not stop you.” I muttered through hard bitten lips. Petal wasn’t loving, attentive or really, even attached to me, not like Emmie and to a lesser extent, Beryl.

  Emmie seemed content to drink her nasty babynot tea to calm her hormones, then go back to jumping my bones a week later, when it wore off.

  Beryl sipped her tea most weeks, only occasionally going for a ride on my pogo stick, always on top and always under Emmie’s strict supervision; which scratched some itches and satisfied a few kinks I never suspected I had.

  Petal, however, wanted a baby from me. I had food, comforts and a secure, safe home, but my stuff wasn’t enough, she needed something I didn’t seem to have. She left, with a sack over her shoulder and a stern warning from Emmie and Beryl to keep our presence a secret. We moved that night anyway, pulling up the house and leaving a wide circle of dark, black, rich soil behind to mark our passing.

  Three nights later, we put down roots again in a wide delta of shallow canals and reed choked channels. The girls were mortified when I built a simple raft to cross the murky water to our new home on a wide, thickly forested island. My construct of bundled reeds and sticks was more than suitable, if a little janky looking, but the girls were a hard no.

  It was only around ten or fifteen feet between the banks, with a few yards of slightly dodgy, reedy shallows. “Bridge?” I asked, grunting the word in the steamy, lowland warmth.

  “What’s bridge?” Emmie asked eagerly. “Another new thingie!?”

  “Yes dear… wait here.” I grumbled a little sourly. My reed and stick boat came apart easily under my flint knife, to be reborn in a new, less terrifying form. I spent a few hours gathering more resources from the local area, before beginning my grand construction project.

  The ladies were still unimpressed, two hours later but I was satisfied. A long suspension bridge crossed from one hefty mangrove tree to another, anchored to the many aerial roots that jutted up from the water, to minimize sway. Plaited vines, palm fiber and wooden pegs could do a lot of stuff, even with only stone tools. The treads were bundles of dried reeds and sticks, tightly lashed into secure and durable ‘planks’.

  “So this is ‘Bridge’...” Beryl muttered sourly, glaring at my handiwork suspiciously.

  “Yes, come on. We cross now.” I grunted, taking them both by the hand and leading the way.

  “Bouncie!” Sapphie chirped, when we were halfway across.

  “Yes, darling, bouncy…” Beryl cooed, her resistance softening in the face of her ebullient little gobbling’s joy. That was that, ‘Bridge’ became an accepted part of day-to-day life in the wet and watery place we called home.

  We passed a long, quiet summer together, warm, uneventful and deeply satisfying. Emmie got babynot to grow reliably in the garden after a few tries, along with a few other herbs that goblin society considered taboo.

  Undone flowers were deeply forbidden, since a tea of their pollen would invariably cause a pregnant gobb to miscarry, often dangerously.

  Slackvine root could rob a goblin of his virility for a time, goblin women used it as a last resort, since a limp, impotent gobbo was often an angry and unpredictable gobbo.

  They knew a few poisons and a scant handful of medicinal herbs, but otherwise they were clueless, outside their specialized knowledge. My efforts combined with theirs easily, as Emmie and Beryl both turned out to be eager students of the herbalist’s art.

  My research into monster parts, venoms, toxins and magical phenomena were inexplicable to them, drawing only blank looks and confused stares.

  “Ghnash is a witch.” Emmie grumbled when I pressed her on learning to manipulate the world through magic. “Emmie is nub a witch.” She purred, her warm, clawed hands roaming across my chest.

  “See? You has a magic staff that enspells me…” She stopped talking and I stopped thinking, while she sent me to the moon and enjoyed a mouthful of her favorite treat. “Got no babies in it, so why not?” She asked sweetly, while licking her lips.

  “I feel like you distracted me there, lover.” I rumbled low and soft, moving my mouth very little, since I was still a little shaky.

  “Not quite distracted enough.” She grumbled right back. “Stick out your tongue and hold still… I has an idea!” With a wicked giggle, she leapt on me, planting herself right over my face. “Careful with your teeth, husband, just licky-licky my silky-slicky; like I do yours.”

  /

  When my little green lover was a gasping, wrecked mess, sprawled on my chest, kissing me slowly all over I whispered in her long, pointed ear. “Why don’t you want to learn witchery, lover?”

  “No fair, husband… I’m all fucked limp!” She moaned pitifully.

  “Tell me, Emms… Or I’ll shove my magic staff up you right now.” I purred, closing my hands on her hips and moving menacingly toward her still quivering tenders.

  “Liar.” She spat with a grin. To prove her point, she rolled over on top of me and rested her tender green entrance on the shaft of mighty Ghnash’s fearsome weapon.

  “Nub scared of you. Not ever.” She fell asleep like that, with me towering over her, curled up on my chest.

  “She has you in her thrall, husband.” Beryl sighed, as she joined us on the lawn. “I wish I could love your baby-stick the way she does…” She sat with her back to me, leaning on her snoring sister and sighing. “When I see it, I only remember Bagguz.”

  “I will never do anything you don’t want me to, Beryl.” I mumbled, deciding the risk was worth the bleeding in my mouth. “Promise.”

  “Ghnash ever makes Beryl sad, Emmie won’t do any more mouth-stuff, ever.” My little darling grumbled sleepily. “That’s that, sister. He’s my loyal pet, so long as I make with the sucky sucky.”

  “Yes, dear.” I mumbled softly, as she drifted away again, dreaming of bellies stuffed with babies.

  /

  The next morning, smoke rose on the horizon, thick and dark. “Fires burn sometimes…” Beryl muttered with a shrug, while Emmie was even less interested. A storm swept through at mid-day, quenching the grass-fire that roared through my old stomping grounds, but I remained wary.

  “Wait, be back.” I grunted, before boarding the Hms. Rotten-Bottom, my new reed canoe and poling out into the waters at sunset. The girls were beyond mortified at my primitive, two outrigger, papyrus boat, considering the very idea, the utter limits of madness. I was having a blast…

  I snacked on skeeters as I poled, enjoying the evening breeze, despite the growing pong of rank, wet smoke and charred vegetation.

  I heard them long before I saw, a sound I’d never heard before, but recognized immediately. The clank of metal armor and the creak of well tanned leather. The smoke hid their scent, until the wind shifted, men and horses… and a few gobbs. I poled closer, hidden behind vast walls of reeds, muck and mire.

  “No sign of it, captain.” A man’s voice complained sourly. “This is the place, our scouter module shows an extra planar entity of at least C rank encamped here for an extended period.”

  “Has the female revealed anything more?” The unseen ‘Captain’ grumbled.

  “She remains intransigent. I doubt she will provide any further clues.” The other answered.

  “Dispose of it how you see fit. I will return and make my reports. Stay here until you find this creature. Something created an enchanted shell bauble in this backwards bog and the pontiff demands to know more.” The captain barked. “Keep the goblin foot and two junior knights for your hunt. That should be more than sufficient."

  My blood ran hot and cold at once… They were hunting me and they had Petal, who was apparently not helpful. That warmed my heart, along with a deep and abiding desire to hunt my hunters right back. Good sense overruled my instincts, as I silently poled my boat to a secluded little mudslip I knew well.

  /

  “All right you wretches, encamp here. Keep your filth away from our supplies and behave, if you do I’ll let you have this female and her whelp to play with.” Sir Decklan chuckled darkly at his small pack of greenskins. “I don’t want them back when you’re done.”

  The little mob of brutes gibbered and hooted with excitement and eagerness at the thought, before actually getting to work. “Filthy things… Even these can serve the light…” He murmured, making the sign of the rising sun in benediction. “Percy, Krabbe, pitch camp and start dinner, don’t let the vermin near the food stores. They can eat worms and grubs for now.”

  “Sir, can I have a poke at that gobb, before she goes to the pack of animals? I’m fair pent up.” Percy asked sweetly, relying on his boyish good looks.

  “Go ahead… after camp is ready.” Decklan sneered. “Worse than sticking a beast-girl. Pork her butthole, or you might get goblin jizz on your balls.”

  All three men chuckled and joshed as they worked, pitching tents on a patch of dark, clean smelling soil. “I thought that grass fire would flush it out for sure…” The bigger man, Krabbe grumbled. “Now we’re stuck here… Can we keep that gobb girl around for a few days?”

  A long moment passed with no reply from the captain, so Krabbe stepped around the tent to the waterside clearing… The armored senior knight was nowhere to be seen.

  “Percy, where’s Sir Decklan?” No answer came, only the quiet gibbering of the gobs, over at their rude camp of piled brush and leaves.

  A soft rattle sounded behind him, the movement of some animal or… he turned, just as a keen edged flint spear head slipped under his breastplate, stirring his insides even more violently than he’d intended to use the helpless goblin girl, tied to a stake by their horses.

  “Stuck Decklan in his asshole while he was shitting, pig human. Percy never knew who killed him.” I whispered softly as the giant slumped down with a clatter of metal plates. It was worth the damage to my face, to watch him die in utter despair and shame.

  I stood from the downed human and howled, spraying blood from my mouth in a great torrent, showering down on my red crayfish armor and blood drenched spear. It was time to make an entrance.

  A dozen goblin raiders stopped arguing over who was going to get first stab at the promised female, when they heard my challenge. One wobbly, half hearted spear drifted my way, falling well short, while its former owner was legging it as fast as spindly green legs could carry him, well behind his comrades, who hadn’t hesitated.

  “Dizzapointing…” I spat, along with a bit of blood and a chunk of my lip.

  I watched them flee for a few seconds, then went to the slumped, sobbing girl tied to a pole near the half pitched human tents. I already knew she wasn’t Petal… She was short, skinny and a very bright green with a shock of ragged, matted blue hair.

  “Who are you?” I asked very gently, for her sake and mine, once I had my bleeding under control.

  “Tippi… I’m Tippi…” She sobbed. “Please, no more… no more… Petal gave me her trinket before she died, I swear!”

  Incoherent and completely out of it, I bundled her in a cloak drawn from my shadow, mindful of the skinny little gobbling babe in her belly sling. She didn’t react, as I placed her in my boat and returned to free the horsies from their hobbles and halters. I was just about to sail off when it struck me…

  “Loot!” I gasped, amazed and disturbed that I’d not thought of that before.

  I had a lot on my mind. But there was no excuse! Tippi was zonked, blacked out and safe, tucked in my boat, pulled up on a mudflat. I scurried back to the camp, eager to see what treasures I could swipe… They might have some dried fish, or jerky… I shook my head to clear the fog, before pawing through the corpse of Krabbe.

  He had hardly anything at all. A leather pouch which was nicely sewn, but otherwise unremarkable, once I dumped the junk out of it. The little, dull colored chips and tiles splattered into the mud in an amusing way for something so boring. He had a nice cloak of fine stuff attached to his metal suit, but it ripped away nicely. The leather tube at his belt held nothing of interest, I dropped the pointy gray thing into the mud with the…

  “Coins.” I said aloud, contemplating the foreign idea. “Dagger…” The word tasted funny, but not in a good way. I shrugged and went back to rifling through their supplies.

  I tucked their tents, the crates of food and all the bedding, animal fodder, ropes, leather goods and random cloth I could grab into my capacious shadow storage, followed by the tent poles, some very shiny things from sir Decklan’s baggage and a few odds and ends.

  Petal’s trinket wasn’t there, so I sighed and went back to the boat. She woke when I lifted her from the deck, struggling weakly in my arms, until Emmie and Beryl took her from me, bustling her away to the baths. The girls had become ardent and evangelical converts to the clean lifestyle, swiftly deciding that ‘hot water is safe, cold water is bad’ to justify their shift in perspective on the matter.

  “Coins?! Dagger?! Sword?! Armor and metal?” I shouted at the moorlands a few long minutes later, when my monumental stupidity hit me so hard that my asshole clenched. I hadn’t even looted two of them, before sinking the bodies into the marsh… And I hadn’t taken any actual loot, just supplies, rubbish and foodstuffs!

  “Fucking Goblin-mode!” I howled with rage and desperation into the night.

  /