Chapter 1: The Fortnightly Feast
Skell hunched over his workbench in the dimly lit apothecary, his gnarled green fingers meticulously grinding herbs into a fine powder. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and brimstone, a peculiar mix that clung to the walls of Elara’s enchanted shop. His bulbous eyes flicked toward the calendar pinned above him, a crude X marking today as the day. His crooked mouth twisted into a lopsided grin, yellow teeth glinting. 'Skell waits all fortnight for this,' he muttered to himself, a dribble of saliva already escaping his lips at the thought.
The door to the back room creaked open, and Elara strode in, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders, barely contained by the low-cut black robe that hugged her voluptuous frame. Her emerald eyes glinted with mischief as she leaned against the doorway, one hand on her hip, accentuating her ample chest. 'Well, Skell, you’ve been a good little goblin this week, haven’t you?' she purred, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. 'Polished every cauldron till it shone. Ready for your reward?'
Skell’s head bobbed eagerly, his knobby hands clapping together. 'Skell is ready! Skell wants to see the pretty witches play!' he babbled, a string of drool hanging from his chin.
Laya appeared behind Elara, her raven-black hair contrasting with her lover’s fiery mane, her equally busty figure wrapped in a sheer violet gown that left little to the imagination. She smirked, wrapping an arm around Elara’s waist and pulling her close. 'Oh, we’ll play, won’t we, darling?' she teased, her voice low and sultry as she nipped at Elara’s ear. 'But remember, goblin, eyes only. No grubby paws on us.'
Elara chuckled, tilting her head to give Laya better access to her neck. 'As if we’d let him anywhere near. But we do love an audience, don’t we, love?' She turned her gaze to Skell, her lips curling into a wicked smile. 'Shall we take this to your dingy little bed, Skell? Give you the best seat in the house?'
Skell nearly tripped over his own feet as he scrambled toward his tiny room at the back of the shop, his heart pounding with anticipation. 'Yes, yes! Skell’s bed is ready for the show! Skell loves the show!' he squeaked, shoving the door open to reveal a rickety cot with threadbare sheets.
The two witches sauntered in after him, their hips swaying in perfect sync, the air crackling with their raw, untamed energy. Elara pushed Laya down onto the cot with a playful shove, climbing on top of her with a predatory grin. 'Let’s make him drool harder than ever, shall we?' she whispered, loud enough for Skell to hear as he perched on a stool in the corner, his eyes wide and unblinking.
Laya laughed, a throaty sound that sent a shiver down Skell’s spine. 'Oh, I plan to. Watch closely, goblin. You’re about to see something magical.' She tugged at the strap of Elara’s robe, pulling it down to reveal one perfect, heaving breast, her nipple already hard with anticipation. Laya’s tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive bud with a slow, deliberate lick, her eyes locked on Skell’s dumbfounded expression.
Skell’s jaw dropped, a river of drool spilling onto his tattered shirt. 'Skell loves this! Skell loves the boob sucking! More, more! Pretty witches, suck more!' he babbled, his voice a desperate whine as his heart-shaped eyes practically bulged from their sockets.
Elara arched her back, letting out a dramatic moan as Laya’s lips closed around her nipple, sucking with just the right amount of pressure to make her gasp. 'Oh, you’re wicked,' she hissed at Laya, her fingers tangling in her lover’s dark hair. Then, turning to Skell, she smirked. 'You like that, don’t you, you little perv? Bet you’re sweating just thinking about it.'
Laya pulled back, her lips glistening, and shot Skell a taunting look. 'Bet he’s harder than a troll’s club just watching us. But sorry, goblin, this is as close as you get.' She leaned in again, this time tugging Elara’s other strap down, exposing her fully as she prepared to lavish attention on the other breast.
Skell was panting now, his breath ragged as he gripped the edge of his stool. 'Skell don’t care! Skell just wants to see! Suck more, pretty witches! Make Skell happy!' he begged, his voice a fevered plea as the room grew hotter, the air thick with tension and the promise of an explosive display.
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