Chapter 1: The Fortnightly Feast
Skell, the gnarled little goblin with a face only a mother could love, hunched over his workbench in the dim, herb-scented lair of Elara, the fiery-haired witch whose curves could stop a war. Her crimson locks spilled over her shoulders, framing a bosom so ample it seemed to defy gravity. Beside her stood Laya, her equally endowed lover, with raven-black hair and a smirk that could cut glass. The air was thick with the scent of potions and unspoken desires, and Skell’s beady eyes darted between the two women as he polished a cauldron with far too much enthusiasm.
“Skell sees the day is here! Skell’s favorite day!” the goblin croaked, his voice a gravelly whine as drool already began to pool at the corner of his warty lips. “Fortnight done, yes? Time for Skell’s treat! Pretty witches make Skell so happy!”
Elara rolled her emerald eyes, adjusting the tight corset that barely contained her assets. “Oh, for the love of the dark moon, Skell, can you not drool on the floor? I just mopped up your last mess.” Her tone was sharp, but a wicked glint in her gaze betrayed her amusement.
Laya chuckled, sauntering over to Elara with a sway that could hypnotize a saint. “Come now, love, don’t be so hard on the little gremlin. He’s harmless. All he wants is his filthy little show.” She leaned in, brushing her lips against Elara’s ear, her voice a sultry purr. “And I, for one, am itching to give it to him. Aren’t you, darling?”
Elara smirked, her hands sliding to Laya’s hips as she pulled her closer, their chests pressing together in a way that made Skell’s eyes practically pop from his skull. “Oh, I’m always ready to play, sweetheart. Let’s make this ugly bastard sweat.”
“Skell begs! Skell begs for the pretty witches to start!” the goblin whimpered, scrambling onto his creaky bed in the corner of the lair, his bony fingers clutching the threadbare blanket. “Lick the nipples, yes! Skell wants to see tongues on those big, beautiful tits!”
Laya shot him a teasing glare, her lips curling into a dangerous smile. “Patience, you little perv. We don’t rush art, do we, Elara?”
“Never,” Elara replied, her voice dripping with honeyed malice as she slowly unlaced the front of Laya’s top, revealing the creamy swell of her breasts. “We savor every… single… moment.” Her fingers danced over Laya’s skin, eliciting a soft gasp from her lover that sent a shiver down Skell’s crooked spine.
“Skell is dying! Skell needs it now!” the goblin pleaded, his heart-shaped eyes glistening with desperate lust as a string of drool dangled from his chin. “Suck them! Suck the pretty nipples for Skell!”
Elara laughed, a rich, throaty sound, as she bent her head to Laya’s chest, her tongue flicking out to tease the hardened peak of one nipple. Laya arched into her, her hands tangling in Elara’s red mane. “Oh, you wicked thing,” Laya breathed, her voice laced with heat. “Don’t stop. Make him pant for it.”
Skell was already panting, his breath ragged as he gripped the edge of the bed, his body trembling with a horny fervor he couldn’t contain. “More! Skell wants more! Lick harder, pretty witches! Make Skell’s heart explode!”
Laya’s eyes locked on the goblin, a mischievous spark dancing in them as she tugged Elara’s head to her other breast. “Look at him, love. He’s practically dripping over there. Should we give him what he wants?”
Elara lifted her head just long enough to flash Skell a taunting grin, her lips wet and glistening. “Oh, we’ll give him a show he’ll never forget. Hold on tight, you disgusting little voyeur. We’re just getting started.”
As Elara’s mouth descended once more, latching onto Laya with a fervor that made the air crackle with raw, unbridled heat, Skell’s whimpers filled the room, his body sweating with anticipation. The witches’ teasing laughter mingled with their soft moans, building toward a crescendo that promised to leave the goblin—and the lair itself—shaking with forbidden delight.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga — or write a steamy tale starring you.