Follow the goblin part 2

The sound of dripping water was the first thing Yamaba heard. Slow. Rhythmic. Her head throbbed with each drop.

She tried to move, but restraints bit into her. The air was heavy with the scent of rot and herbs faint green light pulsed through the walls, each glow timed to the dull rhythm in her skull.

Her leg burned but someone had cleaned the wound and bound it tightly. Goblin work, by the look of it.

Then came a voice. Soft. Trembling. Familiar.

“Don’t move. You’ll reopen it.”

Yamaba’s eyes cracked open. For a moment, the blur of shadows and light refused to focus until a small shape came into view, kneeling beside her.

The girl’s skin shimmered faintly in the torchlight, Her hair hung long and uneven, veiling her face entirely. She looked fragile… but Yamaba could feel the mana around her, thick and strange.

Something deep in her chest clenched.

“You,” Yamaba rasped, her throat raw. “No. It can’t be…”

The girl didn’t answer right away. Her hands moved with quiet precision, pressing a wet cloth to Yamaba’s brow. “You’re still fevered. I gave you the antidote, but your body…” She hesitated. “Your body fights everything now.”

Yamaba gritted her teeth. “Who are you serving?”

Silence. The girl’s head tilted slightly, like a bird. “I serve the shamans. But I haven’t forgotten you mama.”

The words struck harder than any blade. Yamaba’s vision blurred again.

“Sayo,” she whispered, almost afraid to say it aloud.

The girl nodded once. “You left us.”

Yamaba’s breath caught. “I”

“You left,” her daughter repeated, quiet but firm. “But I don’t hate you, even if you chose the surface over us .”

Her tone wasn’t cruel, only tired, heavy with resignation.

Yamaba tried to rise, but the bindings held. Spirit flame flickered faintly around her, dying as quickly as it sparked. “Listen to me. You’re not safe here. None of you are. The shamans”

Her daughter finally lifted her head slightly. The curtain of hair shifted just enough for Yamaba to see one glimmer of light, a single orange eye, glowing faintly identical to Yamaba’s own.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Only the steady pulse of lights filled the silence.

Then, Sayo reached forward and began untying the bindings around Yamaba’s wrists. Her hands were careful, trembling slightly, the movements uncertain. The cords fell away one by one, leaving faint red marks against Yamaba’s pale skin.

Yamaba flexed her fingers, feeling blood return to her hands, and thenwithout thinkingshe reached for her daughter.

Her palm brushed Sayo’s cheek, just to be sure she was real. But the girl flinched as if burned, stumbling back.

“Sayo?” Yamaba froze, her voice small in the thick, smoky air.

The girl’s breath hitched. Her head dipped, hair falling forward again like a veil. “Don’t…” she whispered. “Please don’t touch me.”

“You should rest. The others are looking for you. If they find you awake, they’ll ask questions.”

Yamaba caught her eyes gently. “Sayo, look at me.”

The girl didn’t. But her voice cracked when she whispered, “I still dream of the surface sometimes of the light from your stories mama. But every time I wake up, it’s darker here.”

Yamaba’s heart broke anew. She wanted to hold her, to tell her everything would be finebut even she didn’t believe it.

Instead, she said quietly, “You’re my little girl. You always will be. Whatever they’ve told you.”

Sayo lingered a moment longer, her lip trembling, before she stood and stepped toward the tent flap. and she was gone.

Yamaba sat in the dim glow, staring at the spot where her daughter had stood. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

(She’s alive… but she’s terrified of me. And whatever they’ve done)

The thought cut short as faint footsteps echoed outside. Voices. One deep, one rasping. The shamans were coming.

The first was deep, wet, and ragged with age the unmistakable rasp of the elder shaman. “The surface witch she was brought here, yes? The elf the fire maker.”

Sayo bowed low, her long hair falling forward to hide her face. “She didn’t survive,” she said softly. “The fever burned through her before dawn.”

A pause. Then a chuckle low and dry as gravel. “Lies… pretty one. You always lie so gently.”

Yamaba tensed.

The second voice was rougher, impatient. A younger man another shaman, perhaps an apprentice. “If she lives, the chieftain will demand her.

Sayo straightened, forcing calm into her voice. “Then search the body pits if you doubt me. But do not forget the fumes there twist the mind. The last who entered still screams in his sleep.”

That earned a harsh laugh from the elder.

He reached for her chin. Yamaba saw it the movement before Sayo could flinch away. Gnarled fingers lifted her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. His other hand slid around the back of her neck. Then, with a faint, revolting wet sound, he slid his tongue down her throat.

Sayo didn’t move. She endured it body frozen, eyes open until he finally drew back with a satisfied grunt.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “You still know your place.”

The younger shaman grinned. “Our little wife grows braver by the day.”

Yamaba’s heart stopped. Wife.

The old man’s tail flicked lazily behind him, his voice dropping into a purr. “You’ve learned your duties well, haven’t you, little flame”

Sayo **** a small smile brittle, hollow. “Of course, husband. I live to please you.” Her tone was sweet as honey and twice as false.

The elder leaned close, inhaling her scent “Then show us again. show us your loyalty..”

Sayo placed her palms together and then she began to sway her hips ever so slightly, a hypnotic motion meant to draw attention away from Yamaba’s hiding spot.

The shamans’ focus shifted instantly. The younger one laughed, enchanted by her movement. The elder smiled, half-lidded, murmuring praise.

The elder shaman's eyes darkened with lust as he watched Sayo sway, her movements hypnotic and seductive. "Enough of this," he growled, gripping the fabric of her skirt and yanking it up. "On your knees, wife. Show me how well you really worship."

Sayo obliged, her heart racing as she sunk to her knees before the elderly goblin. His cock was already rigid and throbbing, the tip glistening with a bead of pungent precum. She glanced once towards where Yamaba was hidden, knowing her mom would be watching, before leaning forward and taking the head of the Shaman's cock into her mouth.

She moaned wantonly, the taste of dirty old cock flooding her senses as she began to work the filthy organ with all the skill she possessed. Her tongue danced along the length, swirling around the head. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked with fervor, the wet sounds of her efforts mixing with the pained, pleased groans from the goblin above her.

Sayo's hips rocked with the motion, her body instinctively falling into the hypnotizing rhythm she had been taught. As she worshiped the goblin's cock, she praised him with muffled words, telling him how big he was, how good he tasted, how grateful she was to serve him.

Yamaba was **** to watch from her hiding place, seeing her daughter debase herself, seeing the lewd display of Sayo pleasuring the goblin. It made her sick. Sayo met her eyes, a silent apology, even as she never faltered in her worship of the old shamans cock.

the sounds of Sayo's skilled mouth and the goblin's groans of pleasure thick in the air. It was depraved, filthy, and yet there was an art to it, Sayo's movements fluid and graceful even in her debasement.

The goblin's hand fisted in Sayo's hair, dragging her closer, forcing her to take more of his cock until she was ****, drool and spit bubbling around the obscene connection. Still, Sayo never fought, never showed anything but eager submission even as her eyes watered and her face turned red from lack of air.

And all the while, Yamaba could do nothing but watch, a prisoner in her hiding spot,

With a wet pop, she let out the thoroughly cleaned cock and took a slow step backward, leading them toward the tent’s exit. “Come, my lords,” she whispered, voice like silk. “Let’s continue the blessing outside.”

The younger followed immediately. The elder lingered, his claw brushing her cheek. “If you lie to me, little one, I’ll carve the truth from your bones.”

Sayo’s smile didn’t break. “Then I’ll be sure to lie sweetly.”

He chuckled and followed her out.

When the tent fell silent again, Yamaba realized her hands were shaking. The smell still clung to the air, thick and cloying.

Her daughter’s voice echoed faintly from beyond the tent flap laughing, soft, performing and beneath that laughter was something brittle.

(They took everything from her.)

Yamaba clenched her fists, spirit flames rising briefly around her like dying coals.

(If I ever get out of here… Morgroth himself will weep for what I’ll do to them.)

Leo woke to the cold kiss of iron and damp stone.

The cell was small carved from rock. Water dripped from the ceiling in irregular beats, each one marking the time he’d lost. His arms were chained high above his head, the weight of the bindings dragging his shoulders down until every breath scraped raw.

He tested the chains anyway. They gave only enough to mock him. The links rattled once and fell still again.

Pain answered him a deep, grinding ache through his ribs and the bruises across his back. The ache suited him. It reminded him that he was still alive.

For a long time, he said nothing. He just breathed through the pain and let the memories return in pieces. The fight. He’d cut through them one, then three, then ten. He remembered the heat of their blood across his hands, the way their laughter only grew sharper the more he killed.

And then there were too many.

“You fought well,” a voice croaked from the next cell a rasp that barely sounded alive. “Too well. They don’t like that.”

Leo’s head turned slowly. Through the cracks in the stone wall, he could see a pair of glowing eyes, yellow, faint, and animal.

“You another prisoner?” Leo asked, his throat dry as dust.

“Once. Now I’m just waiting for the shaman to remember me.” A bitter chuckle. “You’ll join me soon enough. They don’t waste effort on killing.”

Leo flexed his hands against the chains, testing the weak points again. “They should’ve finished the job.”

“They think you’re ugly,” the goblin rasped. “Useless for breeding. Can’t even sell you to the pits. You’re just meat to hang.”

Leo exhaled slowly. “Good. Means they won’t watch too closely.”

Silence answered him, but it wasn’t peaceful. The whole warren seemed to hum the sounds of distant chanting, laughter, the clatter of tools. Life above the dirt.

He closed his eyes and **** the tremor in his arms to still. He pictured Yamaba’s face, molten eyes and the quiet judgment behind them. She’d warned him. And Alice… gods, Alice. Reckless, brave, impossible Alice. The thought of her in goblin hands twisted something cold inside him.

I will fix this.

He whispered it into the dark, a vow.

The chain links bit into his wrists again as he pulled harder, muscle trembling with the effort. The iron groaned faint, almost imperceptible but enough to give him hope.

“Rest,” the other prisoner murmured. “You’ll need it.”

But Leo didn’t rest. He stared at the wall until his eyes adjusted to the faint glow bleeding through the cracks. Beyond it, faint shadows moved guards, perhaps, or something worse.

He memorized the rhythm of their steps. The distance between their rounds. The way one always lingered by the door before leaving.

The cell was small a slab of carved rock with just a pile of old furs for comfort. Chains bit into his wrists thick links anchored into the wall.

He tested the chains around his wrists and they just answered with a useless echo a familiar, useless clink. Pain thrummed along the bones he did not flinch from it. If anything, the ache suited him, earned.

For a long time he lay there and let his thoughts come one by one the first was a single, terrible, unavoidable fact he’d been wrong. Yamaba had warned them. She’d been right; she’d tried to keep them from this. He had argued. Because he wanted to be admired, or to prove something.

Yamaba’s face flickered across the low light in his cell the molten amber eyes,

He remembered the fight he’d left a dozen bodies in his wake.

Around him the goblin prison hummed with distant chatter,

He thought of Alice next of her stubborn face, He imagined her, reckless and sharp, in the hands of those disgusting monsters. He saw Jolie’s bright, oblivious grin and felt bile rise at the thought of her being sullied on his watch. The knot in his chest tightened until it clenched like a fist.

He tightened his fist and tried to imagine the work ahead. Escape would be bloody, and it might require buying time with the one thing he had left his life. He would find them and he would get his girls back out safe.

“Name?” the goblin rasped in a voice like scraping stone, amusement threaded through the question.

“Leo,” he managed. The sound of his own name was odd, like an echo from a life that might yet be saved.

The goblin’s grin did not change. “Big Leo,” it mocked.

Leo let the remark sit without rise. He swallowed the last of whatever fury wanted to answer and gave instead a promise, I’ll make you regret underestimating me.”

The goblin laughed, a high, brittle sound, and turned away. The bars clanged; footsteps faded down the passage.

The cell closed back into its ordinary dampness. Leo leaned his head against the stone and let the chains press the truth into him: this one was his fault. There were no theatrics left to hide behind, only the slow, hard work of getting it right. For Yamaba. For Alice. For Jolie.

Chime.

A bright, gentle sound.

A pale-blue panel flickered to life in front of him.

Incoming holocall Jolie

Leo froze.

His heart stopped, then hammered.

“Answer,” he rasped.

The system panel sharpened.

And Jolie’s face appeared.

At first she looked normal, but something was wrong.

Her smile was too wide.

Her eyes too bright. Too still.

“Leo!” she chirped. “You’re awake! Finally. I was starting to think they dropped you down the wrong hole.”

Leo sagged in relief anyway, letting out a cracked exhale.

“Jolie… gods. You’re alive.”

She giggled.

A thin, high sound that didn’t match her mouth.

“Aw, you sound surprised.”

Leo’s brow furrowed. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Me?”

the hologram widened.

Leo inhaled sharply.

Goblin tribal markings. It was burned in tattooed . Runes of fertility. Claiming-marks. Branding.

“Why would I be hurt? They take such good care of me.”

“Jolie,” he said slowly, “where are you?”

Jolie blinked innocently. “My caretakers decorated me! Don’t you like it?”

His breath snapped out in a snarl.

“No, I don’t like it, Jolie! That’s goblin property‐marking! That’s **** runes!”

She smirked. “Well… that’s what I am now.”

Something inside Leo broke.

“THE FUCK YOU ARE!”

His shout shook the chains. The panel flickered.

But Jolie only giggled again, higher, stranger.

“Jealous?”

“I’M ANGRY, you idiot!” Leo roared.

“I’m furious! Who did this? Who do I kill first?!”

Her smile sharpened.

“Oh, Leo. Always so dramatic. I told you they take care of me. Better than you ever did.”

The words hit like a punch.

Leo flinched.

“Don’t talk like that. They’re manipulating you. Just tell me where”

She cut him off with a mocking tsk-tsk-tsk.

“You’re not really in a position to give orders, are you?”

Her eyes glittered. “They said you were pathetic. I didn’t want to believe them.”

She leaned forward slightly. “But here you are. Chained. Beaten. Useless.”

Leo swallowed hard. “Jolie… please. I’m coming for you. I’ll get you out. I swear it.”

Her smile froze.

Then slowly widened.

“Do you want… to see what you’re saving?”

Without waiting, she motioned again.

The hologram expanded to her midsection.

Leo’s breath collapsed.

Her belly was round.

Taut. Something shifted beneath her skin a sharp, undeniable kick.

He didn’t understand at first.

Then realization punched him in the chest.

“…No.”

His voice was barely human.

“NO. NO. NO THE FUCK IS THAT? WHO DID THAT?!”

Jolie smiled sweetly.

“I told you. They take great care of me. I’m special to them.”

Leo jerked forward so violently his wrists split open on the chains.

“I’LL KILL THEM!” he screamed.

“I’LL TEAR THIS WHOLE FUCKING HOLE APART! HOW DARE THEY TOUCH YOU HOW DARE THEY”

“Oh Leo,” she sighed. “You’re always so dramatic.”

“STOP SMILING!” he barked. “STOP IT! RIGHT NOW!”

He was shaking not from fear, but from a rage so deep it was animal.

“Jolie,” he growled through gritted teeth, “listen to me. I am going to get you. I am going to rip EVERY goblin in that nest apart. And I am taking you home.”

“When I first got here…”

A tremor flickered under her words, barely noticeable.

“…I still thought you’d save me.”

Leo opened his mouth

“But,” she continued brightly, forcing the tone up again, “the shamans explained how things work down here. What women are for.”

Her smile twitched.

“And they were right.”

Then the holo zoomed out further.

Leo stopped breathing.

Her arms were gone.

Her legs were gone.

Wrapped stumps.

Ragged bandages.

A stone pallet beneath her like she was a trophy on display.

Leo went silent.

Completely silent.

Not shock.

Not horror.

Just a well of pure, murderous hate rising like a tide.

Jolie’s mask cracked entirely.

Her smile dropped.

Her eyes widened raw panic flickering through the cracks.

She inhaled sharply.

“Leo, I”

Her voice shook.

“Leo… please”

Static burst across the hologram.

A shadow moved behind her.

She snapped back into the too-wide smile instantly the performance mask slamming on.

“Oh! Look at the time. My caretakers are back.”

Leo lurched forward, chains screaming.

“JOLIE!”

She looked at him one final time.

Static swallowed the panel.

The call cut.

Silence crashed over the cell.

Leo didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Then

BOOM.

He slammed forward with a roar so violent the chains screamed, stone dust raining from the ceiling.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!” he bellowed at the walls.

“I’LL SLAUGHTER EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU! I’LL TURN THIS WHOLE DAMN WARREN INTO A GRAVE!”

Another yank harder.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE MY GIRL?! YOU THINK YOU CAN MARK HER?!”

The chains held.

Barely.

“JUST WAIT,” he spat, breathing like a cornered wolf.

“JUST FUCKING WAIT. I’M COMING. I SWEAR TO GOD, I’M COMING FOR YOU.”

His voice cracked under the fury but never softened.

Some time later.

Leo sat slumped against the wall, wrists bloodied from pulling the chains too many times to count. His breathing was slow, seething, almost meditative.

(Stay alive. Stay angry. Stay ready.)

Then a notification chimed.

A holocall.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

“answer.”

The air rippled and the hologram snapped open.

Jolie’s face filled the screen.

She was sweating. Shaking. Her breaths came in shallow, fast bursts.

“L… Leo…?” Her voice cracked.

Leo surged forward on instinct and the chains yanked him back violently.

“Jolie?! What what’s wrong? What’s happening?!”

The frame widened slightly.

Her belly was massive now swollen taut, glowing faintly from runes burned into her skin. Her body trembled with another contraction she tried and failed to hide.

She gasped. “I… I think it’s time…”

Leo’s breath hitched.

Then rage and heartbreak warred across his face.

“Jolie… damn it… you shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“Oh, she isn’t alone,” another voice crooned.

The goblin chieftain leaned into view beside her.

Smirking.

Relaxed.

He draped an arm over Jolie’s shoulders as if she were a piece of property on display.

Leo’s reaction was instant.

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HER!”

The entire cell shook with the **** of his scream.

The chieftain only chuckled a deep, mocking sound that made Leo’s skin crawl.

“She asked for me. She asked for you too.” He tapped Jolie’s cheek condescendingly. “Poor thing is scared. Hormones, you know.”

Jolie whimpered in pain.

“Leo… it hurts…”

The anger in Leo’s eyes flickered replaced by something raw, ****, terrified.

His voice softened against his will.

“Okay. Okay. Jolie, look at me. Just me. Breathe slow. You hear me? Slow.”

The chieftain laughed again. “Oh, look at him. The mighty warrior. Giving birthing advice while chained up like livestock.”

Leo ignored him completely.

“Jolie,” he said firmly, “I’m right here. I’m not leaving. You hold on to my voice, okay? You’re strong. You hear me? You’re strong.”

She nodded, shaking.

“I–I’m trying…”

Another contraction hit her hard. Jolie cried out, curling forward as the chieftain held her in place with casual ownership.

Leo strained against the chains until they cut bloody lines into his wrists.

“DON’T TOUCH HER LIKE THAT!”

“Oh?” the chieftain drawled. “Would you prefer I let her fall over? Perhaps you should be here then, hm? Holding her while she”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!”

The words were a thunderclap.

But Jolie whimpered again, pulling Leo’s attention back to her.

He **** his breathing steady.

**** his voice gentle in the only way he could manage.

“Jolie… listen. Just breathe through it. I’m right here.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Leo… do you hate me?”

His heart cracked open.

“No.”

“I don’t hate you. I hate them. I hate what they did. Not you. NEVER you.”

The chieftain hummed mockingly.

“Awwww, how sweet. She’s birthing my child, yet she calls for you.”

Leo’s face twisted with pure ****.

“You. Are. Dead.”

Another contraction hit Jolie worse than the last.

She screamed, clutching at nothing with her stump-limbs, panic flooding her features.

“LEO!!”

“Yes! I’m here! I’m here, Jolie! Listen to me!”

He leaned close to the holo.

“You’re gonna get through this! Keep your eyes on mine, don't look at him, don’t look at anything else! Just me!”

She sobbed.

“Leo… I’m scared... I’m… I’m so scared…”

His voice broke.

But he didn’t let it falter.

“I know. I know you are. But you’re not alone. I swear it. You’re NOT alone.”

The chieftain snorted.

“How touching. Will you claim my whelp as your own too? shall I send you the umbilical cord as a souvenir?”

Leo snapped.

“YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH BEFORE I RIP IT OFF YOUR FACE!”

The chains screamed as he pulled harder than before. Harder than humanly possible.

Stone cracked.

The chieftain’s smirk faltered.

Only for a second.

Then he leaned toward Jolie.

“Push when your body tells you, little broodmare.”

Jolie whimpered, tears falling.

Leo’s voice cut through everything trembling, furious, terrified.

“You listen to me, Jolie. You survive this. You hear me?”

His eyes burned.

“I swear on everything I am I will get you back. I will make them pay. I will make ALL of them pay.”

The chieftain tilted his head.

“Yes. Do survive, my sweet.It would be such a shame if you died before he gets to watch what you become.”

Her eyes locked on his, wide and terrified. Another contraction wracked her body, forcing a scream from deep in her chest.

The chieftain rolled his eyes.

“Honestly. Humans are so dramatic. Goblin women pop babies out while climbing cliffs. One even gave birth mid-raid and shot an arrow between pushes. And here she”

Leo snarled, a sound more animal than human.

“Shut. Up.”

The chieftain only grinned.

Jolie cried out again this time pitched high, panicked, breathless.

“Leo it it hurts!”

“I know, I know, you’re okay! You’re gonna get through this!”

His voice cracked.

“Just breathe, damn it! You’re stronger than this!”

Her body tensed hard. She screamed again but something had shifted in the sound.

Less fear.

More… urgency.

The chieftain leaned in, mildly bored, inspecting his nails.

“Oh. There it is.”

Leo froze.

“What? What happened? WHAT?!”

The chieftain smirked.

“She’s crowning.”

Jolie sobbed, tears streaking her cheeks.

“L… Leo… am I… am I doing it right…?”

“You’re doing PERFECT,” Leo said immediately, voice shaking. “You’re doing everything perfectly. Don’t you dare give up on me!”

Her breathing turned ragged.

Her entire body arched.

And then

A thin, sharp wail pierced the air.

A newborn’s cry.

The chieftain blinked, surprised, then shrugged. “Alive. Good lungs. Healthy enough.”

Leo’s heart stopped.

Jolie’s eyes went wide.

“My… baby…?”

The panel refocused as the chieftain stepped aside.

A young shaman girl with hair over her eyes, lifted the child into view.

A tiny goblin infant.

Soft green skin and a shock of soft, blond hair. Jolie’s hair.

Leo couldn’t breathe.

Jolie broke into sobs.

“Please please let me hold her let me”

She leaned forward to reach out

And then reality struck her again.

She had no arms just useless stumps.

Her entire body buckled with a sound of agony and grief.

“Please! Please just put her on me I can hold her I can please please!”

Leo’s face twisted, horror and heartbreak warring on his features.

“That’s her kid,” he whispered.

The older one approached, expression clinical.

“The infant will be taken to the creche,” he said flatly. “She will be raised properly. Strongly. Without weakness.”

“No NO!!” Jolie screamed, shaking. “Give her to me GIVE HER BACK!”

She thrashed uselessly, tears pouring down her face.

“That’s ENOUGH!” Leo roared, pulling the chains so violently the metal screeched. “Give her the baby! GIVE. HER. THE. BABY!”

“Oh please,” the chieftain sighed.

“She’ll only smother it.”

He waved a claw absently.

“Shamans, remove it before she gets attached.”

“No DON’T DON’T TAKE HER!”

Jolie’s scream was pure agony.

Leo’s entire body convulsed with rage so intense it made the chains rattle like struck bells.

“I SWEAR TO EVERY GOD IN THE SYSTEM I AM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU!”

The chieftain smirked but took a single step back from the panel.

The newborn cried louder as she was carried out of frame.

Jolie tried to follow, dragging herself forward with just her torso , collapsing forward again and again, pleading through sobs.

“Please!! PLEASE!! Don’t take her! Let me let me see her again let me I’ll do anything ANYTHING just please!!”

Leo’s eyes filled with tears, rage and grief mixing into something volcanic.

“Jolie Jolie, listen to me I’m going to get her back. I’m going to get YOU back. I’m going to”

But his voice broke entirely.

The Chieftain looked down at Jolie, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. He reached down, unashamedly unleashing his massive goblin cock, resting the throbbing length over Jolie's eyes. It was heavy and hot against her face.

"You see this, Jolie?" The Chieftain purred sadistically. "No need to worry about that baby. Your going to have a new baby very soon. I'll pump another one into that needy little cunt of yours and after that another and an another until your cunt breaks."

Jolie shuddered, tears streaming from her eyes as she felt the weight of his words. But even through the terror and grief, she couldn't keep her eyes off of the massive green cock in front of her.

The Chieftain ran the tip of his dripping cock across her face covering her eyes blinding her to the world. "You're going to be a good Broodmare for me, aren't you Jolie? You're going to take this cock deep inside you and thank me for every drop I pump into your fertile cunt. Aren't you?"

Jolie wanted to fight, wanted to deny him. But she was so tired, so broken. And deep down some depraved, needy part of her wanted it. Wanted to feel him inside her, filling her, making her forget.

So she simply nodded, a small, shaky movement against the weight of his cock on her face. The Chieftain grinned, a wide, terrible thing.

"Good girl," he purred sadistically.

The chief grinned wickedly, exposing his fangs as he painted Jolie's face with his precum. One hand tanged in her sweat-slicked hair, the other brutal yanking her head back. "You ready to **** on this cock, slut?" He growled. "Ready to worship it until it floods your throat?"

Jolie could only whimper, the sound pathetically needy as she tongued out to taste the seeping tip. The chief obliged, shoving his cock into her waiting throat. Jolie gagged obscenely, drool spilling from the sides of her stretched-wide mouth as the chief crammed his full length down her throat.

The goblin started rutting with long, brutal strokes, fucking Jolie's face with cruel, punishing intensity. Jolie took it all, her muffled moans and slurping gags testifying to her depraved enjoyment. Saliva, snot, and tears mixed on her debased face as she was well and truly used.

As he watched this vulgar violation, Leo's cock throbbed so hard it hurt. He hated himself, hated the sick part of him that found this scenario so perversely hot. But still he couldn't look away, couldn't stop.

"You like seeing your bitch ****, don't you?" The goblin snarled, thrusts punctuating each taunt.

With a vicious grin, the goblin chief withdrew his spit-slick cock from Jolie's mouth, the obscenely rigid flesh glistening with her saliva. He grabbed Jolie roughly, lifting her up as easily as if she weighed nothing at all, her limbless nugget body like a doll in his clawed hands.

He spread her used, aching pussy open lewdly, Jolie's slick arousal coating her swollen cunt. Despite just giving birth, she was desperately ready for more, hungry to be filled and seeded. The goblin lined up his massive cock, dark sadistic joy flashing in his eyes as he prepared to violate her all over again, to pump her with his baby batter until it took once more.

The chief thrust into her brutally, his huge green goblin cock splitting her open. Jolie's scream was pure agonized ecstasy, feeling her ravaged cunt clamp desperately around the invading flesh, her sounds obscenely loud in the cavern.

As the goblin rutted into her with animalistic fervor, Leo could only watch in sickened, horrified arousal. He felt bile rise in his throat even as his cock throbbed, torn between self-loathing and the perverse need to witness Jolie's ultimate corruption.

"Your woman's a fertile little whore," the goblin grunted with cruel relish between thrusts. "Barely done birthing and she's already begging for more. You should thank me, Leo. I'll make good use of her, keep her well-used and bred like the broodmare she is."

Leo couldn't respond, could only whimper pitifully as he watched Jolie being viciously railed by the goblin's massive cock.

As the goblin slammed into Jolie's abused cunt mercilessly, fucking her with degrading, punishing ****, Leo found himself consumed by intense humiliation and feverish arousal. His cock throbbed almost painfully, hard and leaking, **** for release.

But his arms were chained tightly to the cold stone wall, making it impossible for him to even touch himself. He strained against the metal cuffs, knowing it was futile but unable to stop himself. His hips rocked unconsciously, humping the air in a pathetic, needy imitation of the goblin's powerful thrusts.

Part of him wanted to sob But a darker, baser part of him reveled in the sick thrill of it all - in watching Jolie being brutally fucked, used like a sex toy, and being helpless to do anything but watch.

"You fucking like this, don't you?" The goblin snarled, his words punctuated by the wet slap of flesh and Jolie's keening wails. "You sick fuck, you love watching her get railed like the whore she is~"

Leo couldn't hold back any longer, his cock erupting in humiliating, shameful ecstasy. His jizz splattered the floor in viscous spurts as he shuddered and whined, his eyes never leaving the sight before him.

Jolie stared right into his eyes. pinned and spread open, impaled on the goblin's massive pistoning cock - She looked straight at him, and she moaned.

Seeing him cum was like a dam breaking. Jolie went pliant, melted against the chief's body even as he brutalized her insides. She began squealing in higher, needier noises, writhing in counterpoint.

In between the goblin's vicious thrusts, she worked her hips frantically, fucking herself on the chief's cock just as he plowed her. Her eyes never left Leo's.

"Yes, use me!" She keened, coy and pathetic and unabashed. "Fuck your cum into me, get me pregnant- I want it, I need it I want another baby!" Her limpless body shook in his grip, wanton and needy. "Cum in me, cum in me,"

He snapped his hips harder, flush against hers now, punctuating her pleas.

"I'm gonna- I'm so close- make me cum, make me cum while you breed me!"

Jolie's pathetic, needy pleas only seemed to spur the chief's cruelty. He growled viciously at her to shut up, his claws digging cruelly into her hips as he rutted into her with vicious ****.

"I don't give a fuck about your pleasure, you stupid breeding slut!" He snarled hatefully even as he fucked her. "Your only purpose is to be a good little incubator, to be bred over and over until your used up. You're just a set of holes to be filled!"

As if to emphasize his point, the chief wrapped a hand around Jolie's slender throat, **** her as he railed her savagely. Jolie gurgled and spasmed, her oxygen deprived face turning a distressing shade of blue. But the chief didn't relent, clearly not caring if his brutal treatment accidentally killed her.

Only when his own climax hit him, his seed flooding Jolie's battered, clutching channel, did the chief take his hand from her throat. He roared filthily above her, finishing inside her with one final, brutal thrust.

Leo wailed pathetically, screaming and begging for Jolie's life - but his voice was hoarse and raw from his earlier humiliations. His cries went unheeded.

Sayo padded quickly down the hollow corridor, the newborn wrapped in a strip of cloth against her chest. The little thing was still crying tiny, sharp sounds that echoed strangely in the stone.

Sayo hushed her gently.

“Shh… little sister… They won’t hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

Her voice was soft Softer than she had ever allowed herself to be.

The baby blinked up at her with round golden eyes.

Her mother’s hair that strange, pale blond lay in wisps across her tiny forehead.

Sayo swallowed hard.

Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the bundle.

“Your father… he sees you as nothing. Just another brood. Another soldier. Another mouth for war.”

Footsteps echoed from behind her.

Sayo stiffened immediately, clutching the newborn closer.

Two shadows approached shaman silhouettes.

The younger one first, bored and grumbling.

“Why are you delaying? Bring the whelp. The elder wants it marked before nightfall.”

Then the elder shaman stepped into the lantern light.

His grin stretched too wide.

“Sayo,” he purred, “my pretty little wife. You run off so quickly. One might think you’re hiding something.”

Sayo bowed her head, letting her hair veil her face.

“I apologize, husband. I merely wished to… clean the child.”

The elder’s gaze drifted over her, suspicious.

Then his eyes landed on the baby.

“Oh. Look at that.”

He tapped the infant’s blond tuft with a claw.

“The chieftain breeds strange colors sometimes. Means nothing.”

He waved a dismissive hand.

“Bring it.”

Sayo’s throat tightened.

“I should prepare her for presentation. She’s cold, I”

The elder grabbed Sayo’s jaw, forcing her to look up.

His breath was rancid, warm against her cheek.

“You do NOT tell me how to raise a whelp, little wife.”

Sayo stayed still, but her fingers curled protectively around the infant.

“She is my sister,” she whispered before she could stop herself. “Let me care for her.”

The elder froze.

Then he laughed sharp and delighted.

“Your sister? Oh, precious child.”

He tapped her cheek mockingly.

“Half the brats in this warrens are your siblings.”

Sayo did not flinch.

But her eyes darkened beneath her hair.

The elder gestured sharply.

irritation snapping across his features.

“Hand the whelp over. Now.”

Sayo didn’t move.

For the first time, she held the baby openly against her chest, to shield her.

Her voice was a whisper.

“No.”

The younger shaman blinked, confused.

The elder slowly tilted his head, disbelief melting into a cold, ugly snarl.

“…What did you just say to me?”

Sayo’s hair fell like a curtain as she bowed her head again, but her grip tightened.

“I said no. She isn’t ready. Her mana is unstable, she might”

The elder seized her wrist hard enough to bruise.

“You do NOT get to refuse me. I own you. I own your body. I own every brat that comes from your bloodline. And if you defy me again”

He never finished.

A sound tore through the corridor.

Not a voice.

Not a growl.

Not even a scream.

A ripping.

Wet. Sharp. Final.

The younger shaman’s eyes widened first then his body lurched, suspended in midair as blue-green fire spread through his chest like blooming veins of light.

His ribcage opened with a violent snap.

A skeletal hand draped in ragged robes, crowned in ghost-fire hair pushed through his sternum.

The elder staggered back.

“What WHAT IS?!”

The rest of the apprentice shaman crumpled to the floor like an emptied sack crumbling to ashes.

Behind him, the ghostly figure rose to its full, horrifying height.

Bones glowing like molten turquoise.

Eyes blazing orange like Yamaba’s own.

A long, tattered robe whipping around him in a wind that didn’t exist.

It looked like a skeletal wraith crossed with Ghost Rider, its flames roaring silently.

And it was not alone.

A second form drifted in behind it smaller, translucent, trembling. A banshee-like spirit, her shape feminine but shy, hands hovering near her face as if startled to find herself summoned. Her hair flowed like glowing smoke.

Their combined cyan light painted the tunnel in shifting aquatic hues.

The elder shaman barely managed a step backward.

“S–Sayo… what have you”

The wraith’s skull snapped toward him with predatory precision.

Behind the spirits, someone walked forward.

Someone the elder immediately recognized.

Yamaba.

But this was not the fevered, poisoned woman from before.

This Yamaba strode forward with the **** of a storm given flesh, spirit flames roaring around her like a halo of molten turquoise.

Her expression was carved from pure wrath.

Her voice was low, trembling with barely controlled rage.

“You touched my daughter.”

The elder tried to speak to beg but his words never formed.

The skeletal wraith lunged.

There was no elegant kill.

No showmanship.

Just ****.

The elder’s body was torn apart limb from limb, shredded between spectral claws and drowned in teal fire. He screamed as flesh rendered from his body as though he had been put into a wood chipper his still steaming remains scattered across the stone .

Sayo didn’t flinch.

She only tightened her hold on the baby, breathing quietly.

Yamaba stepped forward, eyes fixed not on the corpse, but on her daughter.

“Sayo.”

Her voice cracked.

Sayo’s shoulders trembled.

“I… I didn’t know if you would come,” she whispered.

The baby fussed softly, pressing her tiny face into Sayo’s collarbone.

Yamaba stopped a breath away, afraid touching her would make her recoil again.

But Sayo reached out first.

Not for a hug not yet but she lifted the baby slightly, as if offering her for Yamaba to see.

“Little sister…” she murmured. “She’s beautiful. Isn’t she?”

Yamaba’s throat tightened.

“…Yes.”

Behind them, the ghostly wraith inclined its head a silent guardian.

The shy banshee spirit peeked nervously around Yamaba, hands pressed to the sides of her skull.

The air smelled of blood and scorch.

Yamaba placed a gentle hand over Sayo’s on the infant’s back.

“Come,” she whispered.

“We’re leaving. All of us.”

Sayo nodded.

But her eyes flicked toward the deeper tunnels.

“Mom… what about your friends?”