Fate Deals the Cards Temperance

  Chapter 14 Good Times

  We lingered on our hillside for two days, which gave me the chance to get to know my new family, after its sudden expansion and so much chaos.

  Sarafina and her small clan of apprentices arrived with their runties while I was out, handling a surprise human raid. That was followed by so much rapid change, I hadn’t had a chance to even meet many of the women who now called me chief. That first night, as evening fell I snuck out from under my three exhausted lovers, to prowl my home and garden.

  The women with kids were strictly diurnal, which left me alone at night, save for the ones suffering Tummytime, even if they were suppressing it with the brew Sarafina and Beryl cooked up.

  The hormonal stew brewing in those bellies distracted and upset my delicate balance if I spent too much time near them. They were uninterested in me, beyond a flirty and sly eagerness to win my favor for later; but until they were ripe, they had no interest in touching or being touched by me.

  Like Beryl, most of the ladies were all too familiar with the general run of goblin men and their ways. Even those enduring their first tummytimes had grown up around and raised by survivors of constant and repeated traumas. Mostly cock induced traumas, so until those hormones kicked the gates wide open, my little friend was pretty unwelcome.

  Emmie and Sarafina were pleasant exceptions to that rule… Sara could induce a false tummytime in herself, triggering the physical changes that allowed her to tolerate my ridiculous organ. That was one of the witch’s most important arts, by remaining clear headed, she could lure males in for capture, to couple with her tribe, filling the eligible bellies and then… Well, a goblin man who knows where a tribe of women is, can’t just be let go. They’re stupid, not completely brain dead.

  As a rule, goblin men go completely limp, when there aren’t any ripe tummies around. Even when raging hard, an unripe girl simply wasn’t a target for lust at all. She might be in danger if she got between a male and a ripe girl, or be devoured in a cannibalistic frenzy, if she encountered a male mad with lust and rage, but otherwise most gobbs had no interest at all in kids, oldsters or the unripe.

  The ladies, however, retained some very healthy appetites and expressed them, often. It was common to stumble on pairs, trios and even small groups getting friendly in their bowers, or a lone gobb, having a tickle in the bath at night. They ignored me entirely and just kept on, keeping on; which did have a very distinct effect on me. Here I was, surrounded by yummy, delicious, fun, funny, clever girls…

  I was lonely and horny, pretty much all the time. Even the girls on tummytime were reluctant to come seeking extra helpings, once they had been smooshed into hormonal quiescence for two or three days.

  So, despite my surfeit of riches, I found myself coupling with Sarafina often, when the scents and sensations became too overwhelming in the night.

  My lovely Emmie always met me, morning and night; waiting in the nest to introduce the new girls or soothe the nervous ones. She remained an ardent admirer of all things Ghnash, often having a nibble of me for funzies, or to warm up a shy girl; but she was just one goblin, with just one mouth and a swollen tummy… filled with some rando gobb’s kid.

  That meant she slept the day away and her eyes were little better than a human’s at night, leaving me alone all night. Even my little Saphie was a daytime creature, but the witch, like me, slept only a little.

  Sarafina had arts and spells that allowed her to function by night and day, spells I couldn’t use, since I was a boy and lacked the right endocrine adaptations… or something.

  “Witches serve as the bridge between the daylit world and the night… Now we don’t even remember what bridges are in the real world.” She grumbled during one of our many nightly ‘talks’ where she would ramble and I would listen, while working our separate crafts.

  “Our oldest stories say that once we shared our lives, together by night and day in peace, before the human cult came. The cult hunts witches and all isekai, as a matter of course; for we are the best fuel for their sacrificial rites and blasphemies. Better to be slain in the swamp, than taken by those worms and butchered on their altars.”

  “Wait…” I muttered. “Died, came back…”

  Her long, green finger stilled my lips, at the cost of poking herself on my fangs. “Speak not, even to me of this. The cult must not know. Ever, at all costs. Know this though, death on their altar is a true death, followed by the enslavement of your soul in their service for untold eons to come.”

  The rich, warm and coppery taste of her blood filled my mouth, as she let me suck her poked finger. “Very well, chief… bring me that awful thing, I’ll wrestle it down for you.” She sighed with false dismay, as I loomed over her slim form. “Such a tyrant!” She giggled, almost girlishly excited at the prospect.

  I stumbled upstairs, emerging in the new ‘bunkhouse’ arrangement of our home. It spread out under the hillside, in a warren of small, stone and earthen tunnels supported by entwining tree roots from above. Wide and low, cozy and dark, it was more like a burrow, beyond the wooden floors and stone foundations, where the soil waited, patient and giving.

  Big, wide eyes peered at me from those passages, not afraid, just curious what the weird king was up to. The sounds and smells of a small clan of goblin girls living in close proximity was intoxicating… I’ll admit it.

  I could hear the sounds of passion in the distance and smell the ripe tummies around me, it smelled, sounded and felt perfect. I stood there, by the warm hearth in my home and just basked in it.

  A few moments later, when a small hand took mine I just followed along. In a dark passage, far back in the burrow, Alba led me to her nest, where Lapis waited, looking unhappy.

  “Nub hurt her, goblin man…” She grumbled as she departed, leaving us alone in the dim, warm burrow.

  “Alba?” I asked very gently. The slim, pale girl looked away, too frightened to meet my eyes but she nodded. She had one hand clenched between her thighs, desperately diddling herself, now that we were alone, however, which raised my hopes and put Ghnash junior on full alert.

  “Scared… too scared… But my tummy hurts less when I can smell you nearby.” She whispered, sounding absolutely terrified, but not of me.

  I was in my kilt and shorts, since it was outside my usual ‘work hours’ and no one wanted a tripping hazard like that around, never mind that there were kids in the house.

  There was a cat-girl around too; somewhere, I supposed. Though I hadn’t seen her, or Saphie yet, but it was the middle of the night, when non-horny gobbs should be sleeping, so that was fine.

  I settled in across the nest from Alba and just sat there with her, silently. After a while she scooted around and leaned against me, as she played with herself quietly. “I want it… want it in me so bad… but I’m scared.” She purred, as she found her rhythm and hit her stride. I just rumbled a deep breath quietly in my chest, letting her feel my presence as she melted against me, relaxing into my lap with a sigh.

  “Dick smells so good…” She murmured, as she fell asleep on my lap, her cheek resting against a monster that desperately wanted to eat her up.

  A tiny sound drew my attention to the far passage, where golden green, slit pupiled eyes stared at me, unblinking in the dark. I made a soft purring sound and rubbed my fingertips together, as one does, which failed to reassure the cat-girl, watching me from down the passage and around a corner.

  “She sleeps. Is okie. Nub hurt you.” I whispered, confident she would hear.

  I made certain that I was definitely not ordering her to do anything, which failed utterly. She dragged herself toward us so reluctantly it hurt to watch; that damn chain dragging along behind her on the dirt floor.

  Finally, she crouched at the edge of the nest, expectantly and waited for a long, silent few minutes, just watching me while Alba slept on my lap.

  “Yub?” I asked eventually, when she didn’t say anything.

  She pinned her ears back and glared at me, seeming confused. “Master has no orders for me?”

  “Nub. Only Saphie boss. Ghnash just chief.” I chuckled quietly after my successful whisper attempt. “You have need? Food? Clothes?”

  “Clothing?” The cat woman asked, her eyes squinting closed suspiciously. “A trick, goblin man?” She almost demanded, before she went back to cowering at my feet in fear.

  “Gobbs nub wear, mostly. You want clothes?” I whispered. “I has. Taken from humans. Come, I fix for you.” I gently placed my tiny companion in her nest, tucked in with a fur, sleeping peacefully, one hand still clenched between her pale thighs.

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  Thera followed me silently, staying well back and always out of my reach, until we came to the door into my den below the house. There she balked and wouldn’t go any farther.

  We stopped just outside my door, arguing awkwardly in the starlight. Just a goblin-man sporting a massive boner through his kilt and shorts, despite the heroic efforts of these garments, trying to convince a slim, naked young cat-girl slave to enter his lair. Nothing suspicious there.

  I suspected that any command I gave her at the moment, no matter how innocuous, would undo whatever feeble trust we had built with her so far; which made the negotiations that much trickier. “Is safe. No hurt.” I insisted, but she wouldn’t enter unless ordered to, I decided.

  After a few tense seconds, I nodded, stepped up to the tall, lean cat woman and began running my hands over her body. “Sorry, Thera. Must touch you. Is for clothes. You nub gobb shaped.” I mumbled, feeling like a real bastard, as I really enjoyed the brief time I spent taking her measures.

  She mewed in distress, but held still while I took liberties with her in ways that left her confused and even more frightened of me. “Sorry, go find Saphie, clothes ready after dawn.” I mumbled, as I darted inside to get to work.

  At my worktable, I fished out the cloaks, clothing, tents and such I’d swiped from my prey. A little quick sorting and I had a selection of cloth items to work with, all lined up for alteration.

  I started at the beginning, with a long woolen coat that had belonged to her former master. I cut and slashed it here and there, pulled a needle of hardened fishbone from my sewing kit and got busy stitching. Like so many other crafts, sewing and embroidery were mine, long practiced, honed and refined. I couldn’t argue with the results, they were right there.

  The coat was hardly recognizable after my work, aside from the badge bearing the golden sundisk of the cult in bright yellow, dyed cotton thread.

  I picked that out with a few deft swipes of my flint knife, replacing it with a stylized, cartoonish cat paw print patch in black, to cover the marks of the removed symbol… and just for fun.

  Soon a shirt of fine silk, a pair of loose, striped pants, woolen leggings, and a wool hat were all but ready, customized with tail slits, ear flaps and tapered to fit the slim feline; everything was shaping up nicely.

  I was still working, when Alba slipped into the room, to sit at my feet and doze. I got a little lost in the scent of a warm, cozy comfy goblin girl with a ripe tummy, resting against me, right there, so vulnerable in her sleep… I could just…

  I shook those feelings and half animal, brutish ideas away and looked down at my workbench. The clothes were all finished, completed by my unguided hands, while my mind wandered, wandered too far, it seemed.

  Atop the clothes, all neatly folded sat a tiny, skimpy, scanty panty, with a silken, short camisole with straps so thin, they seemed unable to support anything. In shimmering white silk, cut from the lord’s finest shirt and embellished with spidersilk embroidery depicting scattered stars, it was a simply darling and sweetly sexy set of lingerie…

  “Oh, man… Dat’s weely weird…” I stammered around a well bitten tongue. I packed the clothes up and tucked the frilly nothings away; including those would be a serious setback, if I wanted the poor cat to stop freaking out around me. That would give off super creepy vibes, even creepier than the way I’d felt her up, which I hadn’t even considered, at the time.

  She engendered no special lust in me, thanks to the quirks of goblin biology. She had none of the scents and pheromones that would set my ears ringing and make spots dance before my eyes. Well, no more lustful thoughts than a slim, lanky, small breasted and lithe cat-girl would cause any nerd… On second thought, she was probably right to be nervous.

  While Alba was asleep, I had a savagely vicious wank and dumped yet another huge wad of Ghnash into the clay crock I kept above the workbench. Inscribed with runes and lyrics in an endless chain of interlinked symbols, phrases and jokes from another world, the jar preserved the goop until needed for my arts. The stuff wasn’t any good for making goblins but it was magically potent and highly valuable for my swiftly expanding magical repertoire. With Alba still asleep at my feet, I got to work on my other projects, until sunrise, when I would be needed in my nest upstairs again.

  In my lair, I worked and experimented constantly, exploring the world around me through the things that flowed from my busy hands. I crafted fetishes, charms and amulets for the girls almost constantly, small objects enspelled to repel insects were a favorite. Every-gob hated mosquitoes, until they got hungry; then the charm would get set aside and the monster skeeters became snacks that deliver themselves. Others wanted charms for hunting, to conceal their presence as I did with my witch’s aura.

  The latest, were amulets to soothe their angry bellies temporarily. Those were my own innovation, discovered in my attempts to unlock the secrets of the girls’ ability to see by day.

  Alba started hanging out with me after that first night, cause she was in pain and my smell soothed her… I couldn’t begrudge the poor girl anything, even if she was still unwilling to endure my ‘staffing solution’.

  I couldn’t blame her, skinny and little as she was… and the damn thing was honestly an unruly menace, most of the time.

  I finished my experimental amulet; a few sheets of paper thin bark, covered with my tiny, entangled ‘sutras’ written with a brush of my own pubic hair, in fireplace soot and the great chief’s spunk. The little booklet got sewn together in a tight packet, with spider-silk thread and strung on a braided silk cord, before a dip in monster bee wax to seal it closed and watertight.

  Writing song lyrics in languages from another world, in ink compounded from my own jizz, was a pretty normal, every-day activity for me. I moved on to my next project, while the ‘ink’ dried, beginning an experiment in masking the scent of ripe tummies from my nose.

  A moment later, Alba snatched the little packet off my workbench and pressed it between her breasts, moaning with relief and sniffing the miserable little thing like it was a bouquet of divine flowers.

  Long story short, my amulet failed utterly to grant me the vision changes the girls enjoyed, but I did put my poor, desperate dick almost entirely out of a job.

  “Boy, you are certainly the dumbest genius I’ve ever encountered…” Sarafina whispered in awe, when she learned of my discovery, about twelve seconds after Alba sprinted away, joyfully shouting that she was never going to go near a dick, not in her whole life.

  Emmie and Sarafina appeared at my door within seconds of Alba’s gleeful escape, to investigate.“Did you not think for a moment?” She sighed and settled in to examine a duplicate of Alba’s at her leisure, while Emmie made herself at home.

  My darling’s ideal seat involved getting cozy in my lap, with her butt on my bag of tricks and my dong for a backrest. It sounds uncomfortable, but nope, she fit so nice and felt so good… and smelled so delicious.

  Even with her swelling tummy, she just smelled like someone important to me and nice, all the time. I rested my chin on top of her head and sighed, as I kept scribing away. I had a lot of those amulets to make, and I was going to have plenty of material for ink, going forward.

  “Poor stupid king…” My lap jockey whispered, leaning up to give me a kiss under my chin. “Emmie will always be here, to help with stiff-stiff babystick. I miss having it in me.”

  “Oh, you can, girlie… You can. It is taboo, because no gobb-man can restrain himself and they are all so…” Sarafina gestured at my wife’s current seat; leaning back on me, with the head of Ghnash junior almost reaching the lower points of her shoulder blades.

  “But, in your lucky-lucky case, you can handle a little. Just remember, leave room for baby and for guts in there! Maybe a quarter of it at most.” A wicked, slow smile spread over her thin green lips, as Emmie giggled with delight at the prospect. “I will stay to supervise, for safety… and to finish off her kill.”

  Before I knew what was what, I was flat on my back in my nest by the kiln, with Emmie’s little clawed feet gripping my hips, as she stood over me and lowered herself onto my raging staff. She let out a howl of pure pleasure, tinged with a little pain and even more lust, as she slowly wriggled herself down, a bit at a time.

  Sarafina was there, slathering us with the slippery stuff Beryl made from swamp plants and easing my sweet Emmie down just a little farther. “All right dearie, I’m going to bounce you around a little, sway those hips if you want more.” The old witch cooed, her feet gripping my shoulders, as she guided my sweet, plumply rounded wife safely, a little farther down onto my cock.

  I lay there, gazing up at two sweet bottoms, one round bright green and plump, the other a little less green, a lot less plump and a little scrawny, but familiar and mine. It warmed my heart, watching Sara stuff me into Emmie’s sweet belly just a little, just enough to make me feel wanted, welcome and home.

  Poor Emmie got all she could handle and a bit more, before she could manage to wriggle herself free of me, gasping, shaking and barely mobile even with Sara’s help. She collapsed beside me, shaking and curled up, drifting off to the kind of sleep only well fucked, nicely stuffed, babyful goblin girls know.

  “Well, my chief… what’s this?” Sara asked, while I was getting Emmie situated in the perfect spot, where she could drool on my chest, just how she liked.

  When I looked up, the old dame was wearing the skimpy things I’d made while distracted… and smiling with pure delight as she caressed her body through the slippery silk of lord-whatsis face’s best dress shirt.

  My poor, abused, long suffering dick almost died right on the spot, when the dame sighed and cooed with the sultry desire of a woman who’s just been made extraordinarily happy by a man she wants.

  “Again I ask… What is this, my chief?” She sighed, her silk clad body slipping close to me, warm, excited, inviting and somehow, way hotter. “Lingerie? I never dared dream I would wear clothing again… but this…”

  “For whom did you make this, boy? Not Emmie, she’s smaller than I and it is loose on me… the cat? Oh, no no!” Sara purred. “You cannot. It is taboo and you would split her in half, no helping it.” She shook her head, despite my denials.

  “Goblin girls are… Stretchy, in ways that others are not, especially during tummytime. Consider the girth of your thing and the width of her hips, boy…” Sara began playing with me, hoping to keep me stiff while breaking the bad news.

  “Disobedient slaves are sometimes given to the cult’s wicked, twisted goblin men as punishment. Most beg for crucifixion instead. Now consider the fear she has felt, when faced with that, surrounded by only goblins, out here in the wilds.”

  “Nub stupid… got distracted while working.” I grumbled. “Didn’t give to kitty-girl. Nub nub… is cute though.”

  “Yes, she is cute… remember, you are not a goblin, true enough; but no longer are you a human man… Or whatever you were before this life… you shifty sneak.” She whispered in my ear, followed by a prolonged investigation of that ear with her long, pointy tongue.

  “You have it restrained, but there is a beast in you yet, my chief. Keep it on a short leash, around those whom you may harm, accidentally.” She mumbled, before those skimpy panties drifted down over my eyes and she took me into herself with a sigh of pure pleasure.

  /

  “The target has moved, my lord.” Axelrod said quietly, as the camp began to stir at dawn. “I am unsure how far, until we can triangulate, tomorrow morning, my lord.”

  “Bring me breakfast… We will begin dead reckoning on your new heading once the men are ready to move.” Lord inquisitor Peltier muttered from the dark shadows of his tent. “It will not escape again.”

  Axelrod gasped with relief, when he escaped the lord inquisitor’s tent with his life. The man seemed disturbed to the point of madness, which was growing even more obvious as they journeyed deeper into the wintry swamps.

  He shuddered in the weak sunshine as the camp bustled and woke all around.

  “How’s his lordship this morning?” Sergeant Forsythe asked softly. “Beggin’ yer lordships forgiveness fer’ asking, under the blessed Light.”

  “Not well sergeant, not well. Advise the men to step lightly and remain diligent." The young knight mage whispered. “No one is having a good time out in these wilds, no one.”

  /

  Dawn rang through my senses as it always did, just as sunset whispered in my bones every evening. I could feel my garden domain all around and all the people and animals on it. Sarafina was at the clay pit, showing some of the young girls the basics of hand thrown pottery. Beryl was at her beloved cookpots, brewing up a warming gruel for my clan, while her assistants harvested berries, fruits and herbs from the garden and dug worms for breakfast.

  Emmie and her… new friend were waiting for me on the lawn with the runties warming up before lessons, under her firm guidance. I savored that perfect morning for a few long minutes, just being in the moment.

  When my eyes finally opened, Emmie was wearing those delicious, white silken underthings and hugged up to me so close, I didn’t want to move, ever.

  The little minx’s costume screamed Sarafina’s handiwork, the old dame must have dressed her, because gobbs had no panty technology yet. This was a cunningly baited trap, something designed to keep me in my nest and out of trouble for a while. I was ok with that, when Emmie opened her eyes and smiled hungrily.

  “Sara says I haves to gobble you up at least three times, before you can escape. Now gimme!” She grumbled happily, her grabby little hands snatching at her favorite. “Nub fuss. Gotta follow orders and Sara says is good for baby! Nub as good as if it was yours, though…” She sighed around her breakfast. “These is good-good times, husband.”

  /