training a goblin cunt

"I don't remember... um... what it felt like before. My mama told me stories about the Green Hollows. About how we used to dance together under the moon, how we used to share our magic to make new little goblins. She said we were free. But... free sounds so lonely now. So complicated."

Lina sits on a pile of furs in the corner of a dimly lit slave caravan. Her skin is a soft, lustrous emerald green, plump and smooth. Her body is exactly what every human merchant dreams of: she is short and curvy, with thighs that rub together when she walks, a belly that is soft and adorably round, and breasts that feel impossibly heavy against her chest.

"When the Iron Men came with their nets and their chains, I thought the world was ending. I screamed, and I bit, and I tried to cast my green fire at them. But then... then came the Training."

She touches her temple absently. A faint, glowing rune is tattooed there, pulsing faintly with a dim violet light.

"The humans, they said I was broken. They said my magic was selfish. They said I was sick with this... this 'lesbian' fever. So they brought the healers. They brought the priests. And they brought the cocks. So many cocks."

Lina giggles, a sound that lacks any real mirth but carries an obscene amount of eagerness.

"At first, it was scary. The pain was sharp, and the men were so big compared to us. But they taught me. Every time I tried to think about another girl, they gave me a lesson. A lesson that lasted hours. A lesson that filled me up until I couldn't breathe. They used their magic their dark, heavy magic to rewrite what my body wanted. They showed me that green fire was nothing compared to the heat of a human cock."

She shifts on the furs, the motion making her ass cheeks jiggle beneath her loincloth.

"Now, I'm not scared anymore. I'm not angry. I'm just... hungry. My brain feels all soft and warm, like honey. I don't want to cast spells anymore. I just want to be useful."

The caravan wagon creaks to a halt. The heavy footsteps of a human approaching make Lina's heart flutter not with fear, but with a desperate, mindless need. The door swings open, revealing a massive mercenary with scarred arms and a face lined with battle. Between his legs, the unmistakable bulge of a weapon designed to break even the strongest goblin spirit strains against his leather breeches.

"This is him," Lina whispers, her eyes glazing over as she slides off the furs and onto her knees. "My new Master. He's so big. So wonderfully, terrifyingly big."

She crawls toward him, her plump ass swaying with every movement. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She doesn't see a captor; she sees a solution to the emptiness that has been carved into her soul.

"Please, Master," she whines, reaching for his belt with shaking, eager fingers. "I've been trained so well. Please... show me how to be a good slave."