Kikanuti Will Have Her Due

Back in their room, Caleb went through his nightly ritual: checking the door, setting wards, arranging his spell components with meticulous care. Frumpkin curled up on the foot of the bed, orange tail wrapped around his nose.

"Get some rest," Caleb murmured, already settling onto his bed with his back to her. "Tomorrow will be... complicated."

"Yeah," Nott said, her voice tight. "Rest. Sure."

Time passed and the Nestled Nook was finally quiet. The fire in the hearth downstairs had burned down to embers, the drunken patrons had stumbled home, and the newly formed, unnamed band of lunatics was safely tucked into their respective beds.

Nott waited for Caleb to fall asleep.

She tried not to make the waiting incriminating. Curled on her side, eyes closed, she measured each creak from the narrow bed across the room. Caleb shifted beneath his blanket, sighed through his nose, and tucked one hand near the spell components under his pillow. Frumpkin moved from the foot of the bed to the hollow behind Caleb’s knees, kneaded the wool twice, and settled with the confidence of a creature who was only visiting this Plane as a lark.

The creature was no cat, merely a strange spirit wearing fur and whiskers, and its calm little stare raised the hair along Nott’s arms. She liked him a lot when she forgot that, making her think of the fat lazy tabby that her dear Luc had brought home one day and Yeza had welcomed into their home- She cut off the thought that bit and made her remember things she'd best not. Magic still gave her the heebie-jeebies. Her plan required her to keep Caleb alive, fed, encouraged, and stubborn enough to study until he could rip that scary Hag's curse out by the roots, so she tolerated the spirit and its smug paws.

Minutes crawled past. Caleb’s breathing deepened. The hard crease between his brows eased, and his fingers slipped away from the hidden pouch beneath his pillow. Exhaustion carved years into his face whenever sleep loosened his guard.

Nott had promised to wake him if the itch returned. Waking him now would prove his warning correct, and she considered uninterrupted sleep a charitable gift for damaged wizards.

She rolled onto her spine and tried to rest.

Her cock refused.

Nott slept naked whenever privacy allowed it. Bindings became torture after a full day, and no tailor in Exandria had prepared for a three-foot goblin carrying anatomy suited to a breeding stallion. Her erection rose from her groin in a thick green curve, crossed her belly, and hovered near the hollow of her throat. Heat poured from it. Veins stood beneath taut skin. The heavy sac between her thighs sagged close to her knees, each immense testicle shifting whenever she breathed too deeply.

She closed her eyes and wrapped one hand around the shaft.

“Only comforting it,” she murmured. “It had a difficult day.”

Her thumb followed a raised vein to the blunt crown. Precum gathered at the slit. She smeared the bead over the head with a slow circle, pretending soothing pressure might calm anything.

She replayed the day in her head, only now every memory became the filthy version where she stopped holding back and fucked the women who had made her cock ache.

Beau stood in the ruined carnival tent, chest heaving after the fight. Nott approached from behind, shoved the monk across a splintered bench, dragged those irritating trousers past her hips, and buried her face between hard, sweat-slick cheeks before replacing her tongue with something thicker.

Jester replaced Beau. Blue arms scooped Nott into soft cleavage and carried her upstairs. She dropped onto the bed, planted her plump blue cunt over Nott’s mouth, and closed both hands around the huge goblin shaft laid across the blankets.

Yasha arrived next. Broad shoulders filled the room. Thick thighs opened above Nott’s face. In one version, Yasha lifted Nott by the hips and used her tiny body as a toy. In another, Nott climbed the towering woman from behind, bit one muscular buttock, and drove into her until silence broke into ragged cries.

Nott’s grip tightened.

A muscle clenched deep in her groin. The massive shaft flexed from the root and swung in a wild arc over her torso. A spurt of goblin precum struck her chin. Her balls tightened beneath it without rising far, too large and heavy for any graceful movement.

“Bad,” she breathed, stroking faster. “Filthy, imaginative, very naughty Nott.

It was too much. The heat was boiling her from the inside out.

With a soft, ragged exhale, Nott slipped out from under the blanket. She didn't bother with clothes or leather bindings. What was the point? The straps only chafed, and the trousers couldn't contain her anyway. She did put on the porcelain broken doll mask, however, which made no sense but was a disturbing comfort anyway.

She stepped out into the dark hallway completely nude, her towering, violently veined erection jutting out ahead of her like a dowsing rod. Her heavy, overfull balls swung against her thighs with every step. She felt like a filthy goblin ravager loose in the henhouse, but Nott trusted her hearing. She trusted her darkvision. Most of all, she trusted the spectacular inattentiveness of civilized people after midnight.

She crept down the hall, silent as smoke on her bare feet.

Outside the first guest room, her nose twitched. The scent hit her in a wave: spun sugar, lilac, sharp sweat, and worn leather. Beau and Jester. Nott paused, her breath hitching, her claws flexing. She could just slip the lock. Just crawl into the middle of whatever they were doing and let the beast take over. But Caleb's tired, pleading voice echoed in her skull. Please do not sleep with Beauregard or Jester.

Nott gritted her sharp teeth, tearing her gaze away from the wood. "Good goblin girl," she whispered to herself, her balls giving a heavy, disappointed ache. "Nott is a good, good girl. Kept her promise."

She forced her feet to keep moving. Two doors down, another scent snagged her, stopping her dead in her tracks.

Brine, sea salt, exotic spice, and heavy, intoxicating male musk. Fjord and Molly.

Nott froze, her knees going weak as a completely unexpected, blinding heat washed over her. A sudden, vivid flash invaded her mind: the two sexy big tallfolk men taking her apart. She imagined Molly stepping up behind her, a wicked, ribbed purple tiefling cock splitting her ass open with a brutal shove, while Fjord's thick, green half-orc prick choked her mouth, silencing her screams. She saw her tiny, filthy goblin body suspended mid-air between their violently thrusting hips like a stuffed piglet turning on a spit over a roaring fire, her own massive, useless cock hanging down, swinging heavy and ignored while they utterly destroyed her.

A fat drop of pre-cum hit the floorboards with a soft splat. Nott whimpered, a high, reedy sound, her legs trembling so badly she had to brace a hand against the wall. She was drooling behind her mask. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed, every scrap of loyalty she had for her wizard, to tear herself away from that door. She dug her claws into her own thighs to drag herself toward the stairs, panting like a hunted animal.

Down to the ground floor. Through the shadows of the common room. The heavy oak door near the pantry, leading to the staff quarters.

Click. Tumbler. Click.

The lock surrendered beneath Nott’s pick almost at once, giving up with such little resistance that she paused before easing the door inward.

“Oh, you slut,” she whispered to it. “At least pretend a lady has to work for it.”

The latch clicked softly under her fingers. Nott glanced down the empty corridor, tucked the pick away, and slipped into Yorda’s room with her cock braced against one shoulder like a siege weapon carried by a very small, very naked burglar.

The room was small, cozy, and warm. It smelled intensely of clean linen, lavender, and the deep, intoxicating scent of the woman sleeping in the bed. Yorda lay on her side, a thin linen nightgown tangled around her waist, leaving the heavy, plush curve of her child-bearing hips exposed to the cool night air. The blankets were kicked half-off, and she was snoring softly.

The heavy, musky scent of Yorda’s heat hooked deep in her belly and pulled her closer with each breath. Nott climbed onto the foot of the bed on all fours, surrendering to the rutting urge tightening through her body.

“I am only checking on her,” she whispered. “Innkeepers are community assets. Someone should make certain she is breathing.”

Yorda breathed.

“Excellent. Investigation complete.”

As Nott leaned forward on her hands to look down at Yorda’s sleeping face, the massive, jutting length of her cock swung heavily between her arms. The thick, helmet-like head of her dick hung suspended in the air, practically glowing with heat, hovering a mere two inches directly above Yorda’s nose.

A fat, heavy bead of pre-cum gathered at the slit. It quivered, swelled, and then dropped.

It landed with a wet splat right on Yorda’s cheekbone.

Yorda stirred, her brow furrowing. She wiped a hand blindly across her face, smearing the slick fluid, and then her eyes fluttered open.

For one second, the barkeep just stared blankly into the dark. Then, her vision focused on the object hovering mere inches from her nose. It was the size of a stallion's tool: green, violently veined, and pulsing with a radiant, suffocating heat, framing the terrifying, cutesy doll porcelain mask over a evil goblin lurking just behind it.

Yorda jerked awake with a violent gasp. "Dawnfather protect me-!"

Nott scrambled backward so fast she slammed into the wooden headboard, her hands frantically gathering the linen sheet and hauling it up to her neck. Her eyes were blown wide with sleep-fogged terror as she stared at the intruder. "Who- what are you doing in here?!"

“Yes, hello, sorry, praise the sun, I am leaving.!" Nott shrieked, her voice a frantic, scratchy whine. The goblin scrambled backward in a pure panic, rolling over her own enormous balls. She pitched sideways off the mattress and hit the floorboards with a heavy, undignified thud.

"Don't scream! Please don't scream!" Nott babbled from the floor, her hands flying up to her masked face. "I am a sleepwalker! Terrible night terrors! My brain was looking for the latrine and got terribly confused! I'm leaving! I'm already gone!"

Yorda clutched the sheets, her chest heaving as she tried to make sense of the shadows. The moonlight filtering through the shutters fell across the wiry green creature cowering against her wall.

"You..." Yorda gasped, her voice shaking with residual panic. "You're the little one from the common room."

Then, her eyes drifted downward.

The terror in Yorda's throat hitched, replaced by a sudden, paralyzing shock. The goblin was tiny, barely three feet tall. But the raw, ungodly mass of flesh jutting from the creature's hips defied all reason. The cock was a leviathan, thicker than Yorda’s wrist, weeping thick strands of slick, its heavy root resting above a swollen sac that looked large enough to anchor a small boat.

"Gods above," Yorda breathed, her voice cracking. "What... what in the hells is that?"

“It’s a hag’s curse!” Nott blurted, trying and failing to conceal the rigid shaft between her thighs. “A horrible, heavy, extremely inconvenient curse. I did not touch you. I was only looking, which is creepy, yes, and probably worth a fine or a whipping, but it is not the sort of crime involving knives. I swear I was not going to hurt you.”

She began edging toward the side of the bed, gathering the cumbersome cock into both arms. The swollen head swung across the mattress.

Yorda reached out before she understood why.

Her hand closed around it.

Nott stopped so abruptly the bed ropes creaked beneath her knees.

Yorda’s fingers sank into hot green flesh but could not circle half its girth. The crown pulsed in her palm, spreading fresh precum over her skin. She stared at her own hand as though someone else had placed it there, yet she did not release Nott.

“If you keep holding it,” Nott said, breath coming shallow, “this becomes a very different sort of situation.”

Yorda slowly turned her wrist, examining the broad ridge beneath the head. Her thumb crossed the wet slit, and Nott’s hips jerked toward her before she caught herself.

“You came here to ravage me,” Yorda said. “You crept into my room naked, climbed onto my bed, and put this in my face. I cannot think of a kinder word for what you intended.”

Nott’s ears folded lower. “I had not settled on ravage. I was considering visit, surprise, or regrettable intimacy. Ravage sounds very... er strong?”

Yorda let the shaft slide through her palm. Heat followed her hand down its length. Thick veins shifted under the skin, and the weight increased as she neared the root.

“You shook your ass at me downstairs,” Nott blurted. “You bent over the table, brushed your leg against mine, spoke about milk in a voice no innocent dairy product deserves, and walked away as if your hips were trying to start a riot. I thought there was meaning.”

Color spread across Yorda’s face. “You ordered milk.”

“Because I panicked. It was the least sexual thing I could think of, and you somehow ruined it.”

“I cannot explain why I behaved like that.” Yorda’s gaze traveled over Nott’s small breasts, narrow waist, and tense green thighs before returning to the cock lying heavily across her hand. “I thought you were cute. Strange and nervous and obviously hiding something. I wanted to see more, but I never imagined…”

“No one imagines this,” Nott said with a strained little laugh. “Filthy little goblin monsters are full of unpleasant surprises.”

Yorda’s hand reached the thick root. Her fingertips brushed the stretched skin beneath it and encountered the hanging sac.

She cupped it.

The weight immediately dragged her palm downward.

Her startled expression made Nott wince. Yorda brought her other hand underneath for support, lifting both testicles together. They shifted against one another inside the sagging green skin, dense, hot, and far heavier than she expected.

Nott’s cock jerked across Yorda’s forearms.

Yorda stared at what she held. Her fingers spread, testing the obscene weight, then tightened slightly as fascination overcame caution.

“A stallion would struggle to carry these,” she murmured.

Nott swallowed hard. “Half-ogre breeder-balls. Terrible on stairs, worse on ladders, and presently receiving far more attention than they are accustomed to handling politely.”

Yorda’s thumb moved against the underside of one enormous testicle.

Nott shuddered from ears to toes.

“Looking at the size of them,” Yorda said, her voice dropping into something warmer, “I think perhaps you are the one who needs milking.”

The cock flexed violently across her clavicles. A thick bead of precum spilled from the head and ran over her chest and between her breasts.

Nott stared at her.

“That was an extremely dangerous thing to say to a naked goblin in your bed.”

Yorda opened her mouth to scream for the Watchmaster. It was the only sane, civilized thing to do. She had a goblin in her room. A naked, armed (in a manner of speaking) intruder.

But as she drew breath, the thick, musky scent of the goblin flooded her lungs. It wasn't the foul stench of a monster. It was the heavy, intoxicating aroma of raw fertility, damp earth, and primal heat. The Green Blooming seized upon her terror, twisting the adrenaline in her veins, rerouting the frantic pounding of her heart straight downward into her belly.

Yorda shuddered. She realized, with a horrifying jolt of shame, that her inner thighs were suddenly dripping wet.

"You... you broke into my room," Yorda managed, trying to sound authoritative, but her voice came out husky and strained. She hated that she couldn't stop staring at the heavy, pulsing vein running up the length of the goblin's shaft.

"I picked the lock! For safety!" Nott pleaded, her pointed ears flattening against her skull. "In case of fires! Civil service! Look, I'm just going to go back to my wizard and we'll pretend this never-"

"Take off the mask," Yorda interrupted.

Nott froze, her golden eyes blinking behind the painted porcelain. "What?"

"If you're going to break into my room and stand there with... with that," Yorda said, her grip on the sheet tightening as she tried to suppress a full-body shiver, "I want to see the face of the creature doing it. Take it off."

"You don't want that," Nott whined miserably. "I have teeth for frightening chickens. I am a hideous green rat."

"Take it off," Yorda demanded, the last vestiges of her fear evaporating into a thick, pooling heat.

Nott’s trembling fingers found the leather straps. She pulled the knot loose, and the porcelain mask came away.

Yorda’s breath hitched. The tavern tales spoke of goblins as squashed-faced vermin with rotting skin. But the creature bathed in the moonlight was... stunning. Strikingly, dangerously beautiful. Nott possessed high, sharp cheekbones, a delicate, feline jawline, and enormous, luminous golden eyes that shone with nervous vulnerability. Her small fangs didn't look monstrous; they looked wild, exotic, and fiercely alluring.

"You're not hideous," Yorda whispered, entirely disarmed.

"I am," Nott argued automatically, though her voice lacked conviction.

Yorda shook her head. The final walls of her civilized restraint were crumbling under the supernatural weight of this magical moment. It had been years. Years of quiet, respectable, empty nights since her husband had passed. Years of a barren womb and hollow aching. None of the civilized men in Trostenwald had managed to plant a seed in her.

And now, crouched on her floorboards, was a frightened, beautiful creature possessing a tool meant for a breeding beast. A fertility god wrapped in a tiny, nervous package.

The 'baby fever' she had suppressed for a decade roared into an absolute inferno.

"Come here," Yorda commanded softly.

Nott swallowed, her throat clicking audibly. The feral goblin stud in her marrow was screaming to lunge, but the anxious halfling-soul fought it tooth and nail. She gripped the edge of the mattress, her knuckles white.

"Listen to me, lady," Nott rasped, her voice dropping into a scratchy, vibrating growl as she slowly pulled herself back onto the bed. "You don't want this. You think you do, but you don't. I am a disaster."

Yorda let go of the sheet. It pooled around her waist, leaving her heavy, flush breasts bare in the moonlight. "Please."

"No, listen!" Nott insisted, her golden eyes burning as she leaned over the barkeep. "If I start this... I won't stop. I don't do 'polite.' I don't pull out. Ever. I have half-ogre balls, lady, and they are full."

Nott bared her sharp little teeth, trying to scare the woman, trying to save her. "I will pump you so full of nasty, filthy goblin cum it’ll run down your knees for days. I'll turn that nice, respectable, civilized Empire womb into a dirty little goblin warren. You'll be popping out little green monsters with sharp teeth and sticky fingers, and everyone in this town will know exactly what kind of filthy beast you took into your bed. You will be ruined."

The words should have horrified Yorda. They should have sent her screaming.

Instead, it acted like pouring pitch onto a bonfire.

The sheer, unapologetic obscenity of the threat bypassed every civilized instinct Yorda possessed. The idea of being utterly claimed, of her barren, aching womb finally being stretched and filled to bursting by this beautiful, dangerous little creature... it pushed her over the edge.

Yorda let out a broken, needy sob. She reached down, grabbing the hem of her nightgown, and hauled it up over her hips, exposing her slick, glistening cleft. Her thighs spread wide, offering herself completely to the monster.

"Fill it," Yorda begged, tears of pure, overwhelmed lust pricking her eyes. She reached her arms out, her hands shaking. "Ruin me. Make me a mother."

Nott’s restraint shattered into a thousand pieces.

With a feral, guttural snarl, Nott scrambled up the mattress on all fours, her wiry green body dropping into a low, predatory spider-crawl between Yorda's spread thighs. She didn't hesitate. She didn't ask for permission. Nott smashed her face directly into the human woman's soaking wet cunt, burying her nose and mouth in the thick, musky heat.

She ate her nastily, frantically, her sharp little teeth grazing the swollen lips as her tongue lapped up the heavy nectar of Yorda's arousal like a starving beast finally turned loose on a kill.

Because of the sheer, absurd length of Nott's erection pressing tight against her own belly, the weeping head of her cock was positioned right at her chin. As Nott devoured the barkeep, the massive green glans bobbed and nudged repeatedly against Yorda's slick lower lips, smearing its own hot pre-cum directly into the mess Nott was greedily drinking down.

Yorda shrieked, her fingers tangling desperately in Nott's messy black hair. The dual sensation of the goblin's frantic mouth and the thick, hot pressure of that giant cockhead teasing her entrance was maddening. "Dawnfather- please!" she sobbed, her hips bucking up off the mattress to grind against Nott's face. "Inside! Put it inside!"

Nott pulled back with a loud, wet smack, her sharp face shining with Yorda's juices.

"You asked for it," Nott grunted, her voice dropping into a filthy cadence of a masculine orc. She crawled upward, planting her small green hands on the mattress on either side of Yorda's hips, claiming total control of the space.

The blunt, weeping head of her cock pressed against Yorda's soaking wet entrance. It was incredibly broad, the sheer size of the green cockhead stretching the slick lips before she even began to push. "You asked for goblin seed."

With a feral roar, Nott drove her hips forward.

The sheer, impossible width of it made Yorda scream, a muffled, shattered sound that she quickly bit down on to keep from waking the inn. Nott's massive shaft stretched the human woman far past anything she had ever experienced, sliding in with a thick, wet resistance before seating itself firmly against her cervix with a brutal, satisfying plunge.

Yorda sobbed openly, losing her mind completely as her inner walls stretched around the burning green flesh. "Gods above... oh, Dawnfather! You're so big. It feels like you're in my belly!"

"I am in your belly," Nott snarled, pulling her hips back until the slick head almost popped free, and then slamming it home again.

SLAP.

The sound of Nott's lithe green pelvis colliding with Yorda's big pale human thighs echoed in the cramped room. Nott leaned into the thrusts, pinning the larger woman to the mattress and hammering her hips downward with a vicious, relentless rhythm. Despite being so tiny, Nott rutted with a furious, overwhelming power. Her heavy balls slapped wetly against Yorda's asscheeks and the backs of her spread thighs with every single plunge, driving the breath from the woman's lungs.

Yorda cried out, her head thrashing against the pillows as her hands flew up to clutch desperately at the bedsheets. "Yes! Yes! Oh, it's so big! It's so good!" she wailed, utterly overwhelmed by the impossible size and the supernatural, narcotic heat of the Bloom flooding her veins. "Fuck me, you beautiful monster! Plow me! Fill this awful slut!"

For a long while the room narrowed to the steady battering of the bed against the wall, the wet slap of Nott’s heavy balls against Yorda’s thighs, and the barkeep’s broken cries muffled into the pillow she held to her face. The first wild urgency gradually settled into a punishing rhythm that went on and on, Nott driving into her until sweat slicked her green back and Yorda’s hair clung damply to her cheeks.

Whenever Yorda began to tighten too sharply around her, Nott slowed just enough to keep her hanging there, trembling and desperate, before plunging into her again with renewed force. Minutes blurred together beneath the relentless rise and fall of the little goblin’s hips. Yorda lost track of how many times she begged, how often she declared that Nott was too big, or how many times the thick head battered the same deep place and made her cum.

Nott reached down and grabbed heavy, greedy handfuls of Yorda’s full breasts, squeezing the soft flesh possessively as she pounded her open. “You like that?” Nott taunted between gasps, her sharp teeth bared in a feral grin. “You like this nasty goblin meat stretching you out? Gonna fill this seedbed until it overflows!”

By then Yorda had been held at the edge so long that every fresh thrust felt unbearable. Her thighs shook continuously around Nott’s narrow hips, her voice had gone raw from moaning, and tears streaked freely into her hair. When the final climax finally came, it did not arrive gently.

It hit like a runaway cart.

Her inner walls spasmed violently, clamping around Nott's cock with a crushing grip. She screamed, a long, tearing sound, her body arching off the mattress as she milked the goblin's shaft.

"Oh, fuck!" Nott shrieked, the intense pressure shattering her own control.

"Don't pull out!" Yorda begged, her eyes rolling back in her head. "Give it to me! Make me a mother!"

"I told you I wouldn't!" Nott roared.

She drove her hips forward one last, brutal time, burying her cock to the absolute hilt. Her massive balls cinched tight against her body.

And then she fired.

The first jet of thick, scalding goblin seed punched straight into Yorda’s cervix. Yorda let out a strangled gasp, her eyes rolling back as the sheer heat and force of the load hit her deep inside.

Pulse after pulse of thick, heavy cum flooded into the barkeep's womb, Nott's cock twitching violently with every shot. For Nott, the release was a blinding, ecstatic relief. It was exactly what her cursed, overfull body had been screaming for all day. It felt insanely, supernaturally right, even as her halfling mind wailed at how pervertedly wrong it was to deliver her thick, filthy goblin load deep into a respectable tallfolk womb. The sheer catharsis of finally emptying her agonizing burden brought tears to her golden eyes, blurring her vision as she pumped an ungodly volume of seed into Yorda's core.

"Take it!" Nott sobbed, her voice breaking. "Take it all, you dripping brood sow!"

Yorda whimpered helplessly, feeling her belly physically swell with the deluge. It was a torrential, endless flood, a incredible volume of fertility designed by a good goblin goddess to breed and conquer. She could feel the heat pooling in her stomach, heavy and inescapable, and she loved it right up until her brain simply could not take another drop of pleasure. Yorda's eyes rolled completely back in her head. With a final, shattered moan, her body went limp, passing out cold under the relentless, orgasmic deluge.

Nott kept firing into the unconscious woman until her balls were thoroughly drained. The overflow finally proved too much for Yorda's tight entrance, and thick, white ropes of goblin cum began to leak from her stretched lips, sliding down her thighs to pool warmly on the bedsheets.

When the final, weak pulses eventually tapered off, Nott collapsed. Her tiny green body slumped forward, burying her face between Yorda's sweaty, heaving breasts. Her cock, still fully engorged and wedged deep inside the unconscious woman, twitched lazily, keeping Yorda completely plugged.

As Nott lay there, panting and trembling, the air in the cramped room seemed to thicken with the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers. And then, echoing in the quiet space of her skull, came the warm, heavy voice of that hallucinatory mother-bitch goddess.

Good girl, little mother. A deep planting. A rich soil. You have done so well.

Nott groaned, a tear slipping down her green cheek to soak into Yorda's skin. The feral heat had burned out of her, leaving the exhausted, neurotic halfling-soul behind to weep quietly over what she had done, even as her body reveled in the undeniable, ruined peace of it.