Chapter 1: The Fortnightly Feast
The flickering candlelight in Skell’s cramped, dank room cast long shadows across the stone walls of Elara’s ancient tower. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and the faint musk of goblin sweat. Skell, a hunched, warty little creature with a face only a mother could love—if she were blind—sat perched on the edge of his rickety bed, his bulbous eyes already gleaming with anticipation. His gnarled hands fidgeted in his lap, claws tapping rhythmically against his knobby knees. It was payday. Not in coin, mind you, but in something far more valuable to the peculiar goblin.
The door creaked open, and in strode Elara, the red-haired witch whose presence could ignite a room without a single spell. Her voluptuous curves were barely contained by the sheer black robe she wore, her massive breasts straining against the fabric like they were plotting their escape. Behind her, Laya, her equally endowed girlfriend, sauntered in with a smirk, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders, framing a cleavage that could stop a war—or start one. The two women exuded raw power, their gazes sharp and commanding, as if they owned every inch of the world and knew it.
“Well, well, Skell,” Elara purred, her voice a velvet blade as she leaned against the bedpost, one hip cocked to the side. “You’ve been a good little gremlin this fortnight, haven’t you? Scrubbing cauldrons, fetching bat wings, not stealing my potions for once. I think you’ve earned your treat.”
Skell’s jagged mouth split into a drooling grin, a thin line of spittle already trailing down his chin. “Oh, yesss, mistress Elara! Skell been very good! Skell want see the pretty ladies do the sucky-suck on the big bouncies!” His voice was a grating rasp, but the excitement in it was undeniable.
Laya laughed, a sound like honey dripping over sharp rocks, as she slid onto the bed beside Skell, close enough for him to feel the heat of her body but not touch. “Look at him, El. He’s already a mess, and we haven’t even started. Should we make him beg for it?”
Elara’s emerald eyes glinted with mischief as she joined Laya on the bed, the mattress creaking under their combined weight. “Oh, I think he should. Come on, Skell. Tell us how much you want to see us feast on each other. Use those filthy little words you love so much.”
Skell’s heart-shaped pupils practically pulsed as he clasped his hands together, trembling with eagerness. “Pleeease, beautiful witches! Skell wanna see you suck them big, juicy tits! Skell wanna see you lick them nipples slow and sexy! Skell will die if you don’t!” More drool splattered onto his lap, but he didn’t care. He was in heaven just imagining it.
The women exchanged a look, a silent agreement to toy with their audience of one. Elara’s fingers deftly untied the front of her robe, letting it slip off her shoulders to reveal the full, glorious weight of her breasts, her nipples already hard and beckoning. Laya mirrored her, peeling away her own top with a deliberate slowness that made Skell whimper. “Oh, you poor, horny little thing,” Laya teased, her voice dripping with mock pity. “You’re practically panting already, aren’t you?”
“Skell can’t help it!” he babbled, wiping at his chin but only smearing the drool further. “You so sexy! Them bouncies so perfect! Suck ‘em, please! Skell need it!”
Elara chuckled, low and wicked, as she leaned toward Laya, her tongue flicking out to trace the edge of her lover’s nipple with agonizing precision. Laya’s head tilted back, a soft gasp escaping her lips, though her eyes stayed locked on Skell, reveling in his torment. “Like that, goblin?” Elara murmured, her mouth hovering over Laya’s skin. “You want more of this? You want to see me take her in deep?”
Skell nodded so hard his neck nearly snapped, his voice a desperate whine. “Yesss! More! Suck harder! Skell love it!”
Laya’s hand threaded through Elara’s fiery hair, pulling her closer as she smirked at Skell. “Don’t worry, little freak. We’re just getting started. Watch close now—wouldn’t want you to miss a single, wet second.” Her words were a promise, a taunt, as Elara’s lips closed around her, the sight sending Skell into a drooling, babbling frenzy. The room grew hotter, the air thick with tension, as the two witches prepared to drive their goblin voyeur to the edge of madness with every slow, deliberate suck.
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