Chapter 1: The Fortnightly Feast
The flickering candlelight in Skell’s dank, cluttered room cast long shadows over the mossy stone walls of Elara’s enchanted tower. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and brimstone, a peculiar mix that clung to the goblin’s warty green skin as he perched on the edge of his creaky bed. His bulbous eyes gleamed with anticipation, a grotesque grin splitting his face as he wrung his gnarled hands together. Tonight was the night. The fortnight had passed, and his reward was due.
“Skell waits all day for this,” he croaked, his voice a gravelly rasp, drool already pooling at the corner of his jagged mouth. “Skell’s heart thumps for the pretty witches. Show Skell the magic of your mouths!”
Elara, the fiery redheaded witch, strode into the room with a commanding presence, her voluptuous chest straining against the tight black corset she wore. Her emerald eyes sparkled with mischief as she tossed a smirk over her shoulder at Laya, her equally curvaceous lover, whose golden hair cascaded over her bare shoulders. The two women exuded raw power, their confidence a sharp blade that could cut through any man—or goblin—who dared to overstep.
“Patience, you little gremlin,” Elara purred, her voice dripping with honeyed disdain. “You’ve been a good, ugly worker these past weeks. Don’t make us regret this arrangement.”
Laya chuckled, her full lips curling into a wicked smile as she sauntered closer to the bed, her hips swaying with deliberate intent. “Oh, he knows his place, don’t you, Skell? Just a drooling little voyeur, aren’t you? No touching, only watching.”
“Skell no touch! Skell only look!” the goblin babbled, his eyes practically popping out of his skull as he nodded vigorously. “Skell begs, pretty witches, please, suck the titties! Skell’s heart burns for it!”
Elara arched a brow, exchanging a knowing glance with Laya before turning back to the goblin. “You’re a sick little creature, aren’t you? Fine. Sit there and drool, but don’t you dare move an inch closer.”
With a predatory grace, Elara pulled Laya into her arms, their bodies pressing together in a way that made Skell’s breath hitch. The two women locked eyes, their connection electric, as Elara’s fingers traced the edge of Laya’s low-cut blouse. “Shall we give the little pervert what he wants?” Elara murmured, her voice low and sultry.
Laya grinned, her hands sliding up Elara’s waist. “Only because it’s fun to watch him squirm. Let’s make him sweat.”
Skell’s tongue lolled out, his panting growing louder as the witches began to tease, their movements slow and deliberate. Elara tugged at Laya’s blouse, exposing the creamy swell of her breast, while Laya’s fingers worked at the laces of Elara’s corset. The tension in the room was palpable, the goblin’s horny whimpers filling the air as he gripped the edge of his bed, his knuckles turning white.
“Skell begs! Skell needs! Lick the nipples, pretty witches! Make Skell’s eyes happy!” he pleaded, a trail of drool dripping down his chin.
Elara shot him a sharp look, her lips curling into a smirk. “Quiet, goblin. You’ll get your show, but on our terms.” She leaned down, her fiery hair brushing against Laya’s skin as her mouth hovered just above the blonde’s hardened peak. Laya let out a soft gasp, her eyes fluttering shut, and the sight was almost too much for Skell to bear.
As Elara’s lips finally closed around Laya’s nipple, the goblin let out a guttural moan, his heart racing with perverse delight. The witches were a vision of raw, untamed desire, their teasing game pushing him to the edge of madness—and they hadn’t even truly begun.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga — or write a steamy tale starring you.