Punishment and Pleasure

The dim light of Grashok's prison flickered against the cold, damp stone as he stood in the now emptied corridor. With the women gone his thoughts returned to the endless construction tasks looming ahead. His dungeon expanded daily, yet progress could not keep pace with his ambitions. Turning his attention to the construction menu that floated before him, he contemplated the roster of Dust Golems under his command. Their tireless work had been instrumental in carving new tunnels and fortifying chambers, but they were limited in speed between jobs and as their construction sites were getting further apart, this was causing delays. They were somewhere deeper in the dungeon, either hammering away, or making the snail slow walk between jobs.

With a growl of impatience, he scanned the upgrade options. A new prompt caught his eye: Evolve to Pebble Person (Cost: 100 Fame). Grashok’s lips curled into a toothy grin. This was exactly the boost his workforce needed. He selected one of his Dust Golems and clicked the evolution prompt. The room darkened momentarily, and a rumble echoed through the chamber. A notification blinked before him: Evolution Successful. He would have to take its word for it he thought briefly before repeating the process with the second golem.

His interface notified him again: Second Evolution Successful. Grashok allowed himself a satisfied chuckle. These newly forged Pebble People would add significant strength to his operations, but he would inspect their new forms and their progress later.

His grin faded as his thoughts turned to more pressing matters. Lady Ameline Hearthwyn. The memory of her striking him sent a dull rage through his mind, yet the thought of her beauty — and the fear he had drawn from her — stirred him in other ways. With a low growl, he turned and headed toward the prison chambers.

His heavy footsteps echoed through the dungeon as he entered the prison corridor. Flickering torchlight cast shifting shadows along the cold stone walls, revealing a series of empty cells on either side, their iron bars cold and silent. With each step deeper into the chamber, the air grew heavier, guiding him toward the occupied cell ahead. His mind lingered on the potential of the newly evolved Pebble People, but kept circling back to the beautiful lady he had sent this way earlier.

Her screams had subsided into weak sobs, punctuated by the occasional desperate plea. The sound grew louder as he approached the far end of the prison corridor. There, outside a heavy iron‑banded door, stood his entourage: two goblin guards with wicked grins plastered on their warty faces, his pet wolf Skarn, and his goblin lieutenant, Snippa.

Her yellow eyes lit up the moment she saw him, a warm, mischievous smile spreading across her face.

With a playful laugh, She darted forward, leaping into his arms and wrapping her legs around him. “Grashok!” she purred, pressing her lips against his and grinding her hips into his cock with shameless fervour.

Grashok chuckled, indulging her before setting her back on the ground. She pulled a small vial from the pouch slung across her body—a vial filled with a viscous pink liquid that seemed to glow faintly even in the dim light.

Snippa held it up between them, her grin widening. “Are we gonna have fun with the hooooman now?” she asked, her voice dripping with excitement.

He took the vial from her, turning it over in his hands. The liquid within sloshed sluggishly, its unnatural consistency hinting at its potent properties. “We will see,” he rumbled, his tone low and deliberate.

As he examined the Pinkmoss Elixir, he recalled its effects. The aphrodisiac was notorious for its potency, capable of reducing even the most stoic individuals to quivering slaves to their desires. It dulled the mind, clouded judgment, and unleashed passions buried deep beneath the surface. Useful, but dangerous.

He pushed open the cell door, the iron hinges groaning under the weight. Inside, the once-proud Lady Ameline Hearthwyn was huddled in the corner, her knees drawn to her chest. Her once-impeccable attire—a gown of fine silks and lace in rich, vibrant hues—was now tattered and stained, clinging to her in dishevelled ruin.

Tears streaked her dirt-smeared face, and her golden hair, once styled with regal precision, hung in tangled clumps around her shoulders. Despite her current state, her beauty remained undeniable. Her high cheekbones and full lips, though marred by her ordeal, exuded a rare allure. Her slender figure, with its elegant curves and long, shapely legs, betrayed the reason that she had turned the old Mayors head with her charms.

Ameline’s wide, tear-filled eyes snapped to Grashok as he entered, terror evident in every fibre of her being. She pressed herself tighter against the cold stone wall as if hoping to vanish into it.

Grashok’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he barked an order to the goblins. “Bring in a table!”

The goblins scurried to obey, dragging a crude wooden table into the cell. The crude piece of furniture was placed in the centre of the cell, and Lady Ameline was hauled to her feet despite her protests. She screamed and thrashed, but the goblins were efficient, laying her down on her back and binding her to the table with leather straps. Her arms and legs were splayed, secured to the table’s legs, rendering her completely immobile.

She struggled, sobbing and pleading, but the goblins’ grip was unyielding.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse from screaming. “I—I’ll do anything... Just let me go...”

Grashok silenced her with a low growl, his patience wearing thin. He removed the stopper from the Pinkmoss vial, the pungent scent of the liquid wafting into the air. The goblins held her head steady, prising her mouth open despite her attempts to resist.

With deliberate care, Grashok allowed two drops of the thick liquid to fall onto her tongue. She spluttered and choked, her body convulsing as the goblins forced her mouth shut until she swallowed.

The effects began almost immediately. Ameline’s struggles lessened as a flush of colour spread across her pale cheeks. Her breathing grew laboured, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the potent aphrodisiac coursed through her veins.

At first, her expression was one of confusion, her eyes darting wildly as she tried to comprehend the strange sensations overtaking her. Then, a shudder ran through her entire body, and she let out a soft, involuntary gasp. Her muscles, once tensed with fear, began to relax, her movements growing languid.

Grashok observed her intently, noting the changes with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. The Pinkmoss had begun its work.

Lady Ameline’s lips parted as a moan escaped her, her eyes half‑lidded and unfocused. For a fleeting heartbeat, her gaze snapped open in startled clarity, as if surprised by her own involuntary reaction. The moment passed just as quickly, her eyes drifting back to a hazy, unfocused state. Her head lolled to the side, golden hair spilling over the edge of the table as she writhed slightly in her restraints, not in defiance but as though seeking comfort from the overwhelming sensations flooding her body.

Her voice, once sharp with anger or pleading, now held a breathy, unfocused quality.

“What… what’s happening to me?” she murmured, the words slurring as if dragged from her against her will.

Grashok stepped closer, his looming presence casting a shadow over her. Snippa, still by his side, squeezed his hand, her excitement palpable.

“It’s the Pinkmoss,” he said simply. “It breaks down your inhibitions and strips away lies. Speak truth, and your body rewards you with pleasure. Resist, and you’ll feel only rising frustration… and if you fight it for too long, you’ll crave that pleasure until it consumes every thought.”

Ameline’s gaze wavered, her once‑haughty expression dissolving into confusion.

“Please… I am a… a lady…”

The claim sounded hollow, each syllable forced out with a trembling breath.

Grashok’s eyes narrowed, a knowing glint sparking in their depths as he sensed the Pinkmoss's dual effects. “A lady? Then answer me this. Were you working with the Ratkin?”

Ameline’s whole body tensed. Sweat beaded on her brow as she clenched her jaw, fighting the aphrodisiac that Grashok knew would make her want to give everything to him. A low, strained moan escaped her as she twisted in her restraints, trying to hold the words back.

But the Pinkmoss pushed.

“Yes…”

The admission tore out of her in a gasp — and Grashok saw her expression jolt with sudden, involuntary surprise, her breath hitching as a faint shiver of excitement passed through her limbs. Her shoulders loosened just slightly, as though some small tension had slipped free.

“Yes… I was.”

Snippa let out a delighted little laugh at the breakthrough.

Grashok stepped even closer. “How.”

Ameline shook her head violently, as if trying to dislodge the truth itself. Her breath hitched; her shoulders trembled with the effort of resisting. But the Pinkmoss pried at her, loosening her control.

“My… my husband,” she choked out, the words dragged from her throat. “He had the contacts first. The Ratkin… they wanted people. Names. Folk who wouldn’t be missed. He was to arrange for them to be… handed over.”

She winced, a pained sound slipping free — and as the truth left her lips, Grashok saw a faint, involuntary softening in her posture, another tiny exhale of pleasure she clearly hadn’t expected. Her eyes widened in startled confusion at the reaction her own body betrayed.

“Spirited away in the dead of night,” she managed, her voice cracking as she fought the next wave of pleasure building behind her words.

Grashok’s expression hardened. “And you?”

Ameline’s reaction was immediate and violent. Her eyes squeezed shut, her whole body tightening as though she could physically hold the truth inside. Her breath came in sharp, uneven bursts; her fingers curled against the restraints; a faint, frustrated whimper slipped out as she fought the Pinkmoss with everything she had.

For a moment, Grashok thought she might actually choke on the words.

But the magic pressed harder.

Her jaw trembled. Her shoulders shook. A strained, broken sound escaped her — and then the truth tore free.

“I carried… messages,” she forced out, each syllable dragged from her throat. “To the drop‑off point.”

She tried to stop there. Grashok could see it — the way she bit down on the next words, the way her whole body tensed in refusal. The Pinkmoss pushed back, and the frustration etched across her face deepened into something close to panic.

“I didn’t want to—”

Another tremor ran through her, harsher than before, her breath catching as the magic pried her open again.

“I didn’t want to be caught.”

As the final word left her, Grashok saw the smallest, involuntary release ripple through her posture — a faint loosening of her shoulders, a soft exhale she clearly hadn’t meant to give. There was no surprise this time; only a flicker of frustration in her eyes, as though she hated how easily the Pinkmoss still pulled a response from her.

Grashok’s voice dropped. “And the gold.”

Ameline’s breath shuddered at the question — a deeper, sharper reaction than before. Her whole body tightened, her fingers curling against the restraints as she tried to hold the truth in. A frustrated, almost panicked whine slipped out despite her efforts.

“I wanted… more.”

The words came out in a rush, and the effect was immediate: her shoulders sagged a fraction, her lips parting in an involuntary gasp as the Pinkmoss rewarded her. The relief was stronger this time — and though she no longer looked surprised by it, the tension in her jaw showed how much she despised the way her body responded.

Her jaw trembled as the next truth was dragged free.

“More coin. For dresses. For status.”

Her voice cracked. “I… convinced him to raise the price.”

She tried to stop there. Grashok could see it — the way her whole body tensed, the way she bit down on the next words as if they were physically painful to release.

The Pinkmoss pressed harder.

“He was the mayor,” she forced out, her voice strained and shaking. “He adored me.”

Her breath hitched sharply. Her shoulders hunched as she fought the next admission, her whole body trembling with resistance.

“I… used that,” she choked. “The more he did what I wanted… the more time he got in my bed.”

Her face twisted in humiliation and strain, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to hold the rest back. The Pinkmoss pushed, relentless.

“If he refused,” she gasped, “he didn’t see it at all.”

The confession tore out of her, and the reaction was immediate — a stronger, involuntary loosening of her posture, a sharp exhale she clearly hadn’t meant to give. The Pinkmoss’ reward hit harder this time, enough to leave her visibly shaken by it.

“The Ratkin paid… until they didn’t.”

She sagged in her bindings, breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts. The Pinkmoss was working deeper now — every truth pulled from her seemed to hit harder, and every moment she resisted left her visibly more desperate.

“They raided,” she whispered.

The words came with a sharp, involuntary tremor that ran through her arms and shoulders. Sweat dripped steadily down her temples. Her breathing hitched again, faster, more ragged.

“Killed him. Took me. I thought—”

She swallowed hard, her whole body tightening as she tried to choke the next words back. A strained, involuntary moan escaped her — louder this time, edged with frustration and something like helplessness. She twisted in her restraints, fighting the Pinkmoss with everything she had.

But the magic pressed harder.

“I thought they’d honour the deal. They didn’t.”

The final admission tore out of her, and the reaction was unmistakable. Even pinned to the table, her body jolted — a sharp, involuntary arch of her back followed by a trembling exhale she couldn’t control. Quivering fingers curled against the restraints, as she visibly fought to steady herself against the release unleashed by the Pinkmoss.

Her chest heaved in frantic pants, breaths like a sprinter's as the aphrodisiac's full force slammed into her. Grashok could feel the waves of arousal rolling off her - a palpable, intense heat that seemed to shimmer in the air around her. Her trembling grew more pronounced, eyes squeezing shut as if to block out the all-consuming sensations. Every muscle beneath her skin was tensed, poised on the razor's edge between pleasure and pain.

It left her shaking, breathless, and visibly stunned by the force of it — and even as the tremor faded, Grashok saw her chest rise again in a small, involuntary hitch, as though her body were already searching for the next rush the Pinkmoss might grant. The hunger for that feeling lingered plainly on her face, raw and unguarded.

But beneath that lingering hunger, another expression crept in: a tight, flickering tension around her eyes, a nervous swallow, the dawning realisation of what she had just admitted. The lust might have overtaken her, but the fear of its consequences settled just as clearly across her face.

Snippa’s grin faltered, her brows shooting up in disbelief. “Boss… she sold her own folk? For dresses?”

Her voice carried a stunned disgust. “Humans are worse than goblins ever get blamed for.”

She looked down at Ameline, who lay bound in her restraints, sweat dripping freely now, her body trembling with the aftershocks of the Pinkmoss’ last surge, muscles tightening and loosening in uneven waves she clearly couldn’t control.

A beat passed, heavy and uncomfortable, before she finally asked, “So… what’re you gonna do with her now, Boss?”

There was no mockery in her tone this time — only wary curiosity, as if even she wasn’t sure what punishment fit a betrayal like this.

Grashok stepped closer, his shadow falling further over Ameline as she trembled under the lingering effects of the Pinkmoss. He studied her for a long moment — this woman who had bartered away her own people for coin and vanity.

“You used your body and your sex to betray your own people for riches and trinkets,” he said at last, his voice low and cold. “So I deem this: you will be placed into servitude. But not as a common thrall. Your... talents will be put to better use, serving and pleasing my people in ways you once used them to ensnare and manipulate the Mayor.”

Ameline's eyes widened, a fresh wave of fear breaking through the haze as the weight of his words settled over her. Her mind raced, trying to comprehend the extent of her new fate.

Grashok continued, his gaze never leaving hers. "You will use your charms, your allure, to bring joy and satisfaction to my warriors and their families. You will be their pleasure slave, their concubine, their plaything. And in doing so, perhaps you may find some measure of redemption for your past transgressions."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the implications of what he was demanding of her. Ameline's breath quickened, her face flushing with a mix of dread and humiliation. This was the price she would pay for her treachery to her people — to be used and enjoyed by his clan.

Grashok did not look away from her, his eyes hard and unyielding. Her lies were gone, her choices laid bare before him. And her fate, now, belonged to him entirely.

"I expect you to comply fully," he said, his voice firm. "Refuse, and you will suffer consequences far worse than servitude. Do I make myself clear?"

Ameline swallowed hard, a barely audible nod the only response she could manage.

"'Can't hear you?'" Grashok asked coldly, a touch of mockery in his tone.

"Yes... uh," she stammered, another wave of the Pinkmoss power causing her to moan as it surged through her once more, forcing her to answer his question.

An impish look crossed Snippa’s face.

“Does she have that reaction every time she answers a question?” she asked.

Grashok only shrugged.

Snippa turned to Ameline, eyes narrowing with playful curiosity.

“Well, do you?”

The reaction was immediate when Ameline responded, “Yes.”

Her breath caught, her body giving another involuntary shiver as the Pinkmoss seized on the truth.

Snippa let out a low chuckle. “This could be interesting,” she said, sounding very much like a cat who’d just spotted a mouse worth toying with.

She leaned forward, her grin growing wider. "Alright then, let's see how truthful our little Pinkmoss slave is. Grashok, why don't you ask her some questions?" She crossed her arms, presenting an expectant look as she watched Grashok.

“And make them interesting!” A wicked smile playing across her face leaving Grashok in no doubt as to what direction she wanted those questions to go.

He raised an eyebrow, then nodded slowly. "Very well," he said. "Ameline, do you enjoy having your chest licked and nibbled?"

Ameline's breath caught, her cheeks flushing a deep red as the Pinkmoss compelled her to answer. "Y-yes," she stammered, her voice shaking slightly. Her nipples hardened visibly under her tunic as the aphrodisiac surged through her.

Snippa clapped her hands together with glee. "Oh, yummy! My turn, let's see if she likes other things too."

She grasped Ameline's jaw, forcing her to meet her gaze. "Do you like being dominated, pet?" she purred, her hot breath tickling Ameline's ear. Ameline's throat worked as she swallowed, her response trembling out: "Y-yes…"

Another surge of Pinkmoss power hit Ameline, making her gasp and arch her back.

Snippa looked back to Grashok, clearly indicating his turn. But before he could respond a little piece of resistance still sparked within Ameline.

“Please….please...stop….”

Grashok met Snippa’s eyes with a slow, knowing smile before raising another question, his voice steady and controlled.

"Ameline, have you ever fantasised about being mounted hard and fast by a large, powerful creature?"

The truth poured from Ameline's lips, her words punctuated by gasps and moans.

"Y-yes... a big, rough beast rutting over me, pounding into my... my..." She trailed off, lost in the sensations the Pinkmoss induced.

Snippa's grin widened. "I bet you love taking cock, don't you? Begging for it even when you're full?"

Ameline's eyes rolled back, her voice a breathy moan. "P-please... I n-need it...No...no...I….Yes….Uh"

Grashok's nostrils flared, the smell of Ameline's arousal growing thicker in the air. Snippa leaned in, whispering in Ameline's ear, "Do you like it rough, pet? Having your little body manhandled by a strong male?"

Ameline was practically drooling now, her eyes hazy and lust filled.

“Uh...Oh...Yes...”

Snippa giggled, her yellow eyes gleaming with delight as she watched Ameline squirm and moan. "Look at her, Boss. She's like an animal coming into heat now."

Grashok smirked but said nothing, his eyes drinking in every curve and angle of Ameline's form as he began to stiffen.

“Yes” he said to Snippa, “I think it is time that we had fun”.

Ameline's moans intensified, her hips writhing against the restraints. "Please..." she whispered, her voice struggling to maintain the fierce resistance she once clung to, it was a desperate plea that only served to fuel Grashok's growing desire.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing across Ameline’s flushed skin, and she visibly shivered under the weight of his presence. Their eyes locked — hers wide and pleading for even a scrap of mercy, his steady and unyielding.

“This is my judgement,” Grashok said, voice low and final, “and your purpose now.”

Ameline let out a long, defeated breath. Another involuntary tremor passed through her — the Pinkmoss responding to her submission just as surely as it had to her confessions — surging through her in a strong, pulsing wave, and Grashok felt his own arousal spike in response, watching through hooded eyes as Ameline's eyes glazed over with pleasure.

It left her slumped against the restraints, drained and resigned.

Snippa's giggles echoed through the cell, her hands tracing Grashok's arms. "She's almost ripe for the taking, Boss."

His gaze remained fixed on Ameline's trembling form as he slowly, deliberately extended one large hand, his fingers splaying out in anticipation. His calloused palm brushed the dress covering her thigh, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the ensnared woman. Ameline's whispered pleas turned to soft sighs as his fingers grazed the fabric over her skin, causing further gasps to escape her parted lips and her hips to pivot skywards, before she could regain any semblance of control. It was clear her mind was clouded and her judgment was slipping...

"The Pinkmoss really has her in its grip," He whispered, his lips inches from Ameline's. "She’s getting desperate for us now."

He could feel her body pushing in to meet his hands as they roamed her curves, mapping every inch of her trembling form, while Snippa watched, entranced.

"P...p...please...stop..." Ameline's voice trailed off, her eyes glazing over as her body continued to defy her words by thrusting into his hands.

His smile widened as Snippa's eager hands joined his in exploring Ameline's body.

"Shh, pet," he whispered, "Don't fight it. Surrender to the pleasure, and we'll make sure you feel every inch of it."

Ameline’s only facial response was to close her eyes, but Grashok noticed her legs had drifted wider apart.

His hand slid lower, slipping beneath the hem of her skirt to tease the damp fabric of her undergarments. "Looks like our little Pinkmoss addict is ready for us," he chuckled to Snippa, his fingers brushing against Ameline's soaking wet panties. The blonde's breath hitched, her hips squirming against the restraints as a loud moan escaped her lips.

"Oh Gods! Please...More!" the blonde haired woman begged in response to his touch. Her body trembling, legs spread wide against the bindings.

His eyes locked with Snippa's, both sharing a knowing grin at the sight before them. Grashok leaned in, capturing her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. Their tongues flicking between them, before they both pulled away, still smiling, and resumed their playing with their increasingly willing, if not desperate, captive.

By now it was clear that Ameline's resistance and inhibitions had completely melted as she lay between them, her body writhing against the table.

“Please….More…” Ameline whispered, her voice barely audible.

Snippa exchanged a grin with him, as if waiting for something. “And what do we say little pet?” She asked.

A pause as comprehension struggled to penetrate the lust-addled mind. Then, eventually…

"Please. I'm ... yours ... Master ..." Ameline whispered, surrendering completely.

Grashok's laugh echoed through the cell. "You’ve forgotten Snippa, little pet?"

There was a long pause whilst Ameline visibly seemed to wrestle with understanding the requirement, battling against the lust raging through her before she tentatively whispered “Mistress?” Seeing the nod from Grashok, she went on..

“I’m...Yours too...ah...Mistress...Please….take….Me”

Snippa giggled, pressing her body against Grashok's. His hard member brushed against her, sending tingling sensations through them both.

“We gonna 'ave such fun” she laughed, pressing her lips to his again in another kiss as Ameline's cries reached new heights, her hips thrusting in futile attempts to find some satisfaction.

They both chuckled, their laughter echoing through the room. They tore away Ameline's remaining clothes, leaving her naked and exposed. "See how she's beggin' for it!" Snippa taunted, her voice dripping with horny mischief.

Ameline cried out, her body trembling with frustration. Grashok and Snippa shared a look, amusement written on their faces. They moved closer, circling around the blonde female.

"So helpless," Grashok remarked, his fingers trailing across her skin. "Yet so desperate." Snippa's giggle reverberated through the room. "We could take her any way we want."

Ameline's desperate whimpers continued, begging to be taken, though her pleas went unanswered. Leaning in, Grashok's low, husky voice caressed her ear. "Isn't that right, pet?" Ameline's eyes fluttered shut, her body quivering with barely restrained anticipation.

“P-please...Yes...Take….Me!" Ameline begged. Grashok smirked, straightening up. "But you need to be taught who's really in charge." he stated. Grashok and Snippa pulled back, leaving Ameline struggling against the restraints, whilst Grashok and Snippa stared down, like a cat playing with its prey.

Snippa drew near, licking her lips. "I should start?" She looked at him for approval, to which he nodded. Climbing on the table, the green-skinned Gobliness approached the slim captive, placing her blonde head between her thighs. "Lick me" She commanded as she lowered her soaking wet pussy onto Ameline's mouth.

As soon as she heard the word lick me, Ameline opened her mouth and welcomed the gobliness' juice filled labia. Meanwhile, her nostrils were being overwhelmed by the musky scent of Snippa's arousal.

He watched the two females, the human bound to the table, her lithe body writhing with a rampant sexual desire whilst her tongue lashed the clit of the other one, the Goblin Ranger, whose increasing moans were starting to echo as Snippa looked up at him through hooded lust filled eyes and grabbed him, bringing him closer so she could crush her lips against him, her tongue duelling with his. With him now within range, her hand snaked down and started unlacing his trousers, freeing his hard member.

"Let's put that monster to work." She whispered as she removed the slab of flesh from his trousers, letting it spring out. She pushed Ameline head back, onto the table, in order to place his cock close to her face. His dick swayed back and forth inches from Ameline's mouth, before her lust addled brain sent her mouth forwards to circle around his cock. "That's it, take me wide," he instructed, his voice rough and commanding. Ameline complied, circling his shaft and forcing it deep into her throat, her gag reflex activating with a series of loud sounds from her.

"Oh yes," Snippa cooed, running her fingers through Ameline's hair as she fondled her breasts, her ample mounds rubbing against her body and filling her lungs with soft feminine scents. "Use her Big Boss, make her yours." With that urging ringing in his ears, Grashok pulled himself off her slackened throat, feeling a damp patch on his trousers left behind by her saliva before grabbing a hold of her by her hair and lowering his hairy ballsack to her mouth to which Ameline immediately commenced a frenzied licking. Meanwhile Grashok moved his other hand to Snippa soaking wet pussy and slipped two fingers inside.

Snippa responded by screaming in delight as her folds gave way. Her pleasure increased further when Grashok penetrated a third finger into her as she helped guide the fingers deeper. She bucked harder into his hand as the rough movement sent spasms up her spine. He inserted another, then another. She gasped as they disappeared past her inner walls. The five fingers in her pussy was something she'd never experienced, but god did she love it! Gripping them tightly, she guided them deeper still until her walls almost burst. All the while Ameline had switched back to deep-throating his cock.

After an especially intense deep-throat which sent tremors through his pelvis as his penis felt like it was being vacuumed clean, Grashok exploded, his cum flowing into her throat accompanied by her frantic swallowing. Seeing this Snippa exploded in a matching climax her walls contracting around his fist.

Grashok slid his cum drenched fingers from Snippa's pussy after her orgasm stopped subsiding, the warm fluid dripping down his knuckles as he cleaned each finger with his tongue, draining the orgasmic remnants and coating them with his spit.

Once he had finished cleaning off, Grashok ran them back across Amaline's lips, who repeated the same technique before smiling wickedly and speaking his next instructions. "Now spread open our little bitch."

Snippa slid down from Ameline's midriff to the floor and commenced releasing the straps round her legs, leaving her arms tied. Twisting her round so her pussy faced towards Grishok. "She is yours, take her as is your right as Big Boss". Ameline continued to writhe and arch her body in desperation for sexual gratification. She raised her head and looked at him, her golden hair, dishevelled and cum stained, over her pleading eyes.

"Master...aaaaahhh... please... fuck me, I need it so badly," Ameline whimpered, her voice dripping with desperation and wanton desire. She trembled beneath Grashok's penetrating stare, the pink rings around her eyes growing more pronounced as the drug consumed her mind. "I'm all yours, Master... use me, claim me, make me yours..." all rational thought long since gone, replaced by the insatiable hunger burning within her pinkmoss-seduced mind.

Striding forward, he aligned his rock hard cock with the entrance to her moist pussy and with one powerful thrust he pushed into her velvety walls. Ameline let out a crazed scream, part pain from the sudden thrust, part desire fulfilled from the pleasure she felt.

Another loud scream echoed through the cell as his cock slammed into her again.

And again... her screams resounding with every new impact, soon mixing with Snippa's increasingly audible noises as she wanked her clit and cunt whilst watching, and cheering him on.

"Big Boss Fuck that little whore good! Pound her... OH YESSS! Big Boss no stop." Snippa’s cries grew louder. "Yes! Oh, Fucking God! FUUUCKK I CUMMMM!"

Grashok's own desire surged, his movements becoming even more forceful as Snippa's screams reached a crescendo, causing massive tremors to flow through Ameline to her own accompanying screams.

The cry from his tribal mate seemed to send waves of tremors down his own body, causing his pulsating cock to launch an immense load of seed into her abused womb.

His cock pulsed and throbbed, unleashing a massive torrent of seed deep into Ameline's womb. She, too, teetered on the brink, her thrashing growing more frantic as she hurtled towards her own peak.

Ameline too reached her peak, thrashing wildly in response, spraying their mix throughout her groin, covering Grashoks rod.

Their combined release was breathtaking, as they rode out the intense waves of pleasure. Finally spent, Grashok and Snippa locked eyes, both sporting huge grins as they basked in the afterglow of their shared bliss.

He pulled out of the used Lady Ameline and noticed that a bit more comprehension seemed to be appearing in her eyes, nevertheless her body still seemed to be under the power of the Pinkmoss. Filing it away, he walked up to Snippa and lifted her up in his arms and kissed her deeply. "That was fun" he said when they finished.

Snippa just smiled, laying her head on his shoulder. "I bet there will be many more." She whispered.

Grashok gazed toward the exit, his voice laced with tenderness for his goblin minion. "Hopefully." he said as they both adjusted their clothing.

He swung open the door, revealing eager goblin faces. "Enjoy her," he declared, his tone callous. "Share with the others."

The Goblins erupted into cheers, drowning out Lady Ameline's anguished cry: "Oh God, no!" as Grashok slammed the door shut, silencing her pleas.