Chapter 1: The Fortnight Feast
Skell hunched over his workbench in the dim, herb-scented lair of Elara, the fiery-haired witch whose presence could ignite a room without a single spell. Her crimson locks cascaded over her voluptuous frame, barely contained by the tight corset that accentuated her ample chest. Beside her stood Laya, her equally endowed girlfriend, with raven-black hair and a smirk that could cut glass. The two women were a vision of raw, untamed beauty, and Skell—ugly, gnarled, and green as swamp moss—knew his place in their world. He was no lover, no threat, just a goblin with a peculiar itch.
“Skell done with potion mixing for today,” he croaked, wiping his gnarled hands on his tattered apron, his beady eyes glinting with anticipation. “Skell wait two weeks for this. Skell deserve his show now, yes? Pretty witches make Skell happy with their naughty games?”
Elara turned, her emerald eyes flashing with amusement as she crossed her arms, pushing her breasts even higher. “Oh, Skell, you little pervert. You think you’ve earned your treat? Those potions better not blow up my cauldron again, or I’ll hex your warty ass into next week.”
Laya chuckled, her voice a sultry purr as she leaned against Elara, their curves pressing together in a way that made Skell’s heart pound. “Don’t tease the poor thing, love. Look at him—drooling already, and we haven’t even started. You’re such a pathetic little voyeur, aren’t you, Skell? Just dying to see us play.”
“Skell not pathetic! Skell just… hungry for beauty!” he whined, his tongue lolling out as a bead of drool slid down his chin. “Skell beg, pretty witches! Skell want see you suck on each other’s big, juicy tits. Please, lick nipples for Skell! Make them hard and shiny!”
Elara rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the wicked grin tugging at her lips. “Fine, you disgusting little gremlin. But remember the rules—no touching, no joining. You sit there on your filthy bed and keep those grubby paws to yourself. Got it?”
“Skell promise! Skell only watch! Skell be good goblin!” he yipped, scrambling onto his straw mattress in the corner of the lair, his eyes wide as saucers, heart racing with horny delight.
Laya sauntered over to the bed first, her hips swaying with deliberate intent as she climbed onto the creaking frame, kneeling in front of Skell but just out of reach. Elara followed, her gaze locked on her lover, ignoring the goblin entirely as she straddled Laya’s lap. The air grew thick with tension, the faint scent of their perfume mixing with the musk of Skell’s lair. Slowly, teasingly, Elara tugged down the lace of Laya’s bodice, revealing the creamy swell of her breasts, her nipples already pert and begging for attention.
“Oh, you’re already so ready for me,” Elara murmured, her voice dripping with lust as she lowered her head, her tongue flicking out to trace a slow circle around Laya’s nipple. Laya gasped, her head tipping back, her fingers threading through Elara’s fiery hair.
“Harder, babe,” Laya demanded, her tone sharp and commanding. “Don’t play coy now. Suck it like you mean it.”
Skell whimpered, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, drool now pooling on his chin. “Yes, yes! Suck harder for Skell! Make nipple wet and dripping! Skell love see pretty witches feast on each other!”
Elara shot him a glare over her shoulder, her lips still wrapped around Laya’s breast. “Shut it, goblin, or we stop. This isn’t for you—it’s for us. You’re just lucky to watch.”
But Laya smirked, pulling Elara closer, her own hands now freeing Elara’s massive tits from their confines. “Let him beg, love. It’s kinda hot, knowing he’s sweating and panting over there, too pathetic to do anything but stare.”
As Laya’s mouth descended on Elara’s nipple, sucking with fierce hunger, the room filled with the sounds of their moans and the wet, eager lapping of tongues. Skell’s eyes were heart-shaped, his breath ragged, as the two powerful women lost themselves in each other, their teasing cruelty only fueling his desperate, voyeuristic desire. The heat was building, their bodies glistening with the first sheen of sweat, and Skell knew this was just the beginning of his fortnight feast.
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