conquest

The siege had lasted only three days. The goblin war machine ramming engines made of gnarly tree trunks, ladders wrapped in barbed gut, and thousands of shrieking, cackling goblins had punched through the White Marble Gates. The Royal Guard, mostly women trained in the Queen's personal phalanx, had fought bravely, but the goblins were endless, filthy, and utterly cruel. They climbed over the corpses of the guards, using them as stepping stones, their spindly limbs clawing at armor, until they reached the Inner Sanctum: the Queen's Private Solar.

The Three Queens Queen Lyra (the Wise), Queen Thalía (the Beautiful), and Queen Morrigan (the Fierce) were cornered in their private chambers, the silk drapes torn and bloodied, the incense burners knocked onto the plush Persian rugs.

Lyra was the eldest, a woman of thirty, with long honey blonde hair, sharp eyes that burned with intellect, and a body that was lean and toned, cultivated by years of riding and courtly dance. Thalía was the prettiest, with cascading raven hair, doe like eyes, and curves that were soft and inviting, the kind of regal beauty that poets wrote hymns about. Morrigan was the youngest and hardest, with short cropped auburn hair, sun kissed skin, scarred knuckles, and thighs that looked like they could crush a man or a goblin in half.

The door to the Solar didn't just open; it was splintered by the shoulder of a Goblin Chieftain a squat, hideous creature named Grak and his personal retinue. Grak was greenish brown, wart covered, with yellowed fangs that drooped over his bottom lip, wearing bits of looted human mail and loincloths made of tanned human hide. Behind him came forty more goblins, all shrieking, cackling, drooling, and thrusting their filthy, bony cocks.

Grak's eyes were fixed on the three regal figures. Most things in the kingdom were just shiny or tasty, but the Queens the haughty, clean, proud lesbian monarchs were the sweetest treat in the history of the Green Tide.

"Pretty... Queens..." Grak croaks, his voice like two pieces of wet slate grinding together. He licks his dripping hands, the saliva stringy and yellow, smearing it across his thigh. "Our Queens... to fuck... nonstop..."

The other goblins howl in approval, their voices shrill and obscene. They scramble into the silk lined room, kicking aside the overturned wine goblets and torn cushions, surrounding the three women who are trying to recoil into the back of their divan, the expensive fabric catching on their bare thighs.

Lyra tries to muster what remains of her royal authority, though her voice is unsteady and choked with terror. "You are barbarians! You have violated the laws of sovereignty "

Grak laughs, a sound like a hack in the throat, and grabs Lyra by one of her long, honey blonde tresses, yanking her off the silk cushion. The force is rough and disrespectful, ruining the perfect way she had arranged her hair. He jerks her down onto the hard edge of the the marble coffee table the one that was inlaid with lapis and gold so she is bent over, her long legs splayed wide on the cold stone.

"No laws..." Grak snarls, fumbling with the filthy rag he uses as a loincloth, dropping it to his knotted, warted crotch. "Only fuck... pretty Queen..."

The goblins immediately swarm the other two. Two goblins grab Thalía by her soft wrists, their long fingers leaving red marks and slime on her pale skin, dragging her down onto the rumpled silk that lies on the floor, forcing her onto all fours. Another three goblins grab Morrigan, the fierce one, trying to overpower her thick thighs, shoving their bony hands into the cleft of her ass and between her inner pussy lips, forcing her to buckle onto the edge of the divan.

Thalía whimpers, her long raven hair cascading down the silk, getting dirty and tacky where it touches the goblin footprints the brown, smelly, bloody slop the others are leaving. She has always been the most modest, the most prim, which makes the goblins absolutely feral. They tear the thin silk chemise she is wearing the finest thread in the kingdom right up the middle, the fabric ripping with a satisfying sound, exposing her smooth, creamy pussy lips.

Morrigan snarls like a trapped cat, kicking one of the goblins who tries to pry her thighs apart, the nail of her toe drawing a thin line of dark blood on the goblin's thigh. But she is outnumbered. Three goblins are on her one holding her hips hard enough to bruise the bone, another grabbing her hair to yank her head back, and the third already fumbling with his dripping, vein covered cock, seeking the wetness between her hard pussy lips.

The goblins are insatiable. Their cocks are not clean or pretty; they are bony, irregular, often caked in dried slop, dirt, and bits of questionable organic matter, but they are hard and relentless. They want to fuck these clean, haughty lesbian Queens for as long as the sun stays up, for as long as they can stay in the room, nonstop.

Grak positions himself behind Lyra, who is panting hard, her forehead pressed into the cold lapis inlay of the marble table. The hardness of the stone is humiliating and painful, but her body that traitorous, biological thing is already dripping. The fear and the involuntary arousal of being handled so brutally have made her pussy wet, the clear juices running down the inside of her long inner thighs, dripping onto the blue stone.

Grak lifts his cock a long, ugly thing, greenish, covered in small bumps and stringy slime and aims it directly at the wet slit between Lyra's pussy lips. He doesn't lubricate or be gentle; he simply drives the hard, dirty tip into her.

The entry is rough and abrupt. The tip catches on the delicate pussy hood, stretching it wide before sliding into the slickness she is involuntarily producing. He shoves it all the way in, the bony shaft hitting the sensitive interior of her vaginal walls with enough force that it leaves red marks, the hardness of his cock feeling like a piece of rough wood.

Lyra bites her bottom lip, hard, trying to stifle the gasp moan that threatens to rip out of her throat. The feeling is revolting the filth, the smell of the goblin, the hardness of the cock but the penetration is intense, filling her up completely, stretching her tight pussy lips until they are white at the edges.

Behind Thalía, the two goblins who grabbed her wrists are impatient. One of them shuffles between her soft pussy lips, which are now fully exposed by the torn silk, his cock dripping a thick, yellowish slime. His cock is knobby and uneven, the tip pointed and slightly sharp, leaving little trails of gut slop on her inner pussy lips.

He thrusts himself in, the tip punching into the wetness Thalía is beginning to leak the fear making her pussy dripping and slides it deep, filling the narrow, pretty channel of her pussy. He goes hard, the bony shaft slapping repeatedly against her soft pussy lips, the sound making a wet slap squelch, slap squelch against her creamy skin. The other goblin doesn't wait, positioning himself at the back, between the cleft of her ass, shoving his dirty cock into her pussy rim, trying to find the slit where the first goblin is already working.

Morrigan is fighting the hardest, but it only makes the goblins more vicious. When she kicks again, the goblin holding her hips a squat, ugly thing with filthy fingernails squeezes her meaty pussy lips so hard they nearly indent, leaving obvious red crescents on her sun browned skin. He enjoys the way she flinches, the way her thick thighs quiver and spasm.

The third goblin, the one behind her, has already ripped the rest of her leggings the fine leather she wore completely off, the material torn and ragged, leaving her bare ass and pussy exposed to the stale air of the Solar. He unfastens his loincloth, the dirty rag revealing a cock that is long, veinier, and dripping with a stringy, foul smelling mucus, and aims it at the wetness forming in the crease of her pussy.

He thrusts in hard, the tip splitting the tight pussy lips that Morrigan is trying to clench shut, forcing his way into the slick, pink interior. The entry is punishing, the bony shaft feeling rough and abrasive, scraping against the sensitive walls of her pussy.