Tribal Orgy

Thankfully, it turned out not to be the same band, though that realization only dulled the edge of her panic. The faces were different but the smell was the same: smoke, sweat, filth, and meat. It made her wonder, in the split seconds she dared to think about anything beyond survival, why there were so many goblin bands roaming within a single day’s walk of home.

The Empire’s taxes, so the Starosta of Felderwin had always insisted, went toward keeping these “feral pests” well away from civilized lands, paying the watch, maintaining patrols, fortifying outposts. But if that were true, why had she just stumbled from one raiding party into another? Was the gold going into the roads, or the Starosta’s wine cellar, instead of keeping people like Yeza and Luc safe?

The camp was a ragged sprawl within a hollow behind a rock outcropping, nothing like Drekkit’s half-prosperous band with their fortified stockade and battered but serviceable gear. Here, sixty or so goblins lived in a patchwork of lean-tos, hide tents, and half-collapsed huts roofed in bark or thatch, all sagging under the weight of old rain. The ground was churned mud, trampled to slickness by bare feet, with pools of grey water reflecting the overcast sky. Smoke from three small cookfires drifted lazily, carrying the scent of stringy meat and boiled roots.

The goblins themselves were thin, some to the point of bony, their clothes scavenged from civilized castoffs; torn skirts, mismatched boots, the odd bit of dented armor strapped on more for show than real protection. Weapons were crude: chipped blades, fire-hardened spears, clubs bound with strips of hide. A few squalling goblin pups clung to their mothers, while others skulked among the tents, their yellow eyes quick to track every movement. There was no order here, no central hall or even a clear leader’s tent; just a restless knot of bodies and smoke, the air thick with the musk of unwashed skin and the constant, low murmur of goblin voices.

They shoved her forward into the camp. Dozens of heads turned at once.

She expected the males to come first, to snarl and spit and paw at her like every whispered tavern tale of what happened to women taken by goblins: swarming, rutting, the frenzied breeding that left human women screaming for mercy or silent forever. But the males didn’t move.

It was the females.

Their gazes hit her like thrown stones, sharp, assessing, then widening in something dangerously close to awe. Green breasts swayed bare in the firelight, nipples dark and stiff in the chill air. Hips and asses shifted in open, unhurried movements, some already crouched low with knees spread as if unconcerned who saw the wet glisten between their thighs. They didn’t avert their eyes; they didn’t pretend not to look.

Every one of them stared at the thing hanging from her groin.

She felt it before she dared look. A thickening, a slow, greedy swell that made the flesh grow heavier in her stride. She clenched her thighs as if she could keep it down, but it only pushed harder against her, dragging her steps wider apart. Then it surged upward under its own power.

“No- no, no, no-” The words came out in a tight, breathless rush.

It didn’t stop.

It climbed past her navel, sliding against her belly, rising past her small breasts. Veins bulged dark against green skin, each pulse like another heartbeat outside her body. By the time they shoved her into the camp’s center, it was looming from her hips to her face.

And it moved when she walked. Swung wildly with every step, throwing off her balance, jerking her sideways. Each shift threatened to slap her in the face, the swollen head glistening and obscene. Somehow it stayed perfectly upright, defying its own impossible weight, swaying in tight arcs like it was seeking targets of its own. She had to tip her head back to keep from being struck, but even then it nearly brushed her lips each time her footing faltered.

The musk of it flooded her nose, thick and heady, almost manly.

She went cross-eyed looking at it. Humiliation scalded her neck. She tried to will it down, but every glance, every flash of green tit, every curve of hip, every glimpse of a hairless green slit where a goblin woman squat at the fire, just made it twitch harder

The three who had brought her in were grinning openly now, calling to the rest in sharp, laughing bursts. More faces turned. Goblins stopped what they were doing to stare. More than one pair of eyes widened. She caught the word og’ruk again, rippling through the crowd like a wave. The conclusion was quick and unanimous: no goblin was hung like this. She was half-ogre, and half-ogre meant strong seed.

It was as big as she was. Who in the hells would even want to-

Some part of her, deep in her chest, answered before she could finish the thought: I would.

She wanted it. It was wrong and disgusting and humiliating… and the sexiest thing she’d ever laid eyes on.

And she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

The nearest goblin female’s tongue wet her lower lip. Another let her fingers slide openly between her thighs, shivering at the sight. The sound spread, low, eager chittering, the kind Veth had only ever heard in hunting packs.

They stripped out of their scraps of clothing with quick, practiced tugs, baring lithe, green-skinned bodies shaped almost like her own. Slim hips, flat bellies, small high breasts, except where she bore a great big green cock and balls, they had only tight, hairless little slits between their legs, smooth and wet in the firelight.

“Oh—oh no, no, you don’t, I know exactly where this is going—don’t you dare—don’t—oh gods, you’re actually doing it.” Her words tumbled out fast, pitching up and down in panic and disbelief. “You’re naked! You’re all naked! …and you’ve got—yeah, I see them, I’m looking—oh gods above you’re all soaked—”

Then they moved.

They had her on the furs before she could think to fight it, small green hands tugging her wrists free of the rope only to push her gently but insistently down. Bare green bodies pressed in from every side, giggling, murmuring, touching. Fingers ran over her chest, her hips, the thick root of her cock.

“Oh, don’t touch that- ah! Okay- no, yes- no, this is-oh shit!” She squirmed, kicking weakly, but her voice betrayed the rising heat in her. “Careful! That’s… sensitive! Oh gods, you’re licking it, you’re actually licking it, holy! Ah- fucking hells-”

One straddled her thighs, grinding the wet heat between her legs as if marking her, while another leaned down to lap greedily at the slick drop forming at her tip.

Her eyes squeezed shut, breath shuddering. She didn’t fight. Couldn’t. “Ohhh this is wrong. This is bad. This is very, very- oh- shit, right there, right there-” The heat roared in her head, the sensation of that towering shaft being stroked and guided and worshiped eclipsing everything she’d ever known about sex.

Heat pressed in from every direction: the fire’s glow, the ring of naked female bodies moving closer, their breath quick and panting. Veth’s eyes darted from shark-toothed smiling face to shark-toothed smiling face, from the sway of a firm green ass to the proud swell of a bare breast, to the glisten of wet folds between thin thighs.

“Oh no, you’re all looking at me like I’m dinner. Stop it. Stop not stopping it- oh gods, I can smell you. This is insane-”

She kept telling herself she should be ashamed, that this was wrong, filthy but the pressure between her legs made it hard to think.

Her cock had been swelling from the moment the females stripped down, every inch of her blood feeding into it until it wasn’t just full, it was monumental. It towered over her chest now, the blunt, heavy head drooling clear slick onto her collarbone, veined and flushed darker than the rest of her green skin. The females were transfixed by it. One wrapped both small hands around the shaft and still couldn’t come close to meeting fingers; another leaned in to press her cheek to it, as if checking the heat, before licking up along one thick vein.

“That’s my- ohh fuck! Don’t lick- okay, keep licking, keep licking, fuck-”

Then one of them climbed over her, straddling her hips with a little gasp at the sight and feel of what was beneath her. Her tiny green hand guided the head to her entrance, and Veth’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the first hot, slick resistance as the tip pushed in.

“Ohhhhhh you’re not gonna fit. You’re not- oh shit, you’re doing it anyway…”

The goblin woman moaned low and sweet, working herself down in small rocking motions, the tight squeeze around Veth’s cock making her back arch. Inch after inch disappeared into that clutching heat, until just the head had popped inside, and the first hard pull of those muscles made Veth’s vision go white.

“Oh holy fuck, you’re squeezing- don’t squeeze- keep squeezing- oh gods!”

The sensation was nothing like she’d known before. Nothing like the awkward grind of her hips as a halfling woman, nothing like Yeza slipping inside her and sighing. This was deeper and heavier, but not because the goblin took her to the root. She didn’t; she couldn’t. The female braced on Veth’s hips and worked the blunt crown instead, easing only the first greedy inches past the tight ring, then lifting to grind herself down the thick shaft like a woman straddling the top of a fence-post and bouncing for release. Each rise dragged the swollen lip of the head across slick, aching flesh; each drop seated that broad cap just enough to make them both gasp. Veth felt the ache turn molten and surge up through her gut, her thighs shaking as the rider chased pressure and angle rather than depth until something inside Veth finally broke loose.

Her balls clenched. They were huge, aching, full beyond reason, and then the first pulse hit.

“Ohhh shit- shit! Oh, fuck me- holy- oh gods, I’m coming, I’m- aaagh-”

Her cock jerked so hard inside the female that both of them cried out. The heat rushing up her shaft was a flood, thick and unstoppable, each gush exploding from her in long, rolling spurts that made her toes curl.

“Fuck! Fuuuuck! Take it! Take it! Oh gods it won’t stop! it won’t fucking stop!”

She could feel it. Actually feel her seed pouring into the little goblin’s belly, filling her, stretching her. Not a thimbleful, not a polite dribble like Yeza’s. These were massive, gut-deep deliveries, hot and endless. Each pulse seemed bigger than the last, pumping until the female’s slick green slit overflowed, cream spilling down over Veth’s shaft to pool on her belly.

“Ohhh you’re leaking, you’re- fuck, that’s mine- that’s so much. Holy fucking hells-”

The smell of it, her cum, thick and potent filled the air. The females moaned at the scent alone, eyes glassy with hunger. Veth’s head lolled back, her mind reeling from the sheer size of her release. It was filthy. It was humiliating. And it was the most powerful, soul-emptying pleasure she had ever felt in her life.

Veth’s back arched, fingers clawing at the furs as the goblin on her lap shuddered and squealed, her belly taut and full from the deluge pumped into her.

“Ohhh you look so full- fuck, that’s hot- no, that’s bad, that’s wrong. Do it again-”

The pulses had been so strong, so long, she thought she’d emptied herself entirely and yet, even as the little green body sagged forward against her chest, cock-drunk and panting, her own shaft stood like a pillar. Veins swelled and twitched, the thick head still leaking and jerking with aftershocks, balls still hanging heavy as if they hadn’t given up a drop.

“Oh gods, it’s still hard. Why is it still hard I can’t, I can’t- ohhh yes I can-”

Hands came to help, murmuring in chittered goblin speech she couldn’t follow, guiding the dazed first female off her lap. Veth stared dumbly, her cock lolling against her own stomach for a heartbeat before the next twitch made her gasp. She didn’t understand it. She’d been a wife. She knew how this was supposed to work. After Yeza came, that was it. Sleepy smile, a little sigh, roll over and done. But she still felt the throb. Still felt the need.

Gods, she could go again.

Her heart pounded in her ears. That had felt… amazing. Wrong and filthy and humiliating beyond belief, but the way her toes had curled, the way her balls had knotted up and then emptied- oh, she wanted that again.

The chittering grew sharper, higher, delighted. She realized they were talking about her- the way their wide eyes stayed glued to her towering length, the way some reached out to stroke it as if confirming it was real. A few dropped to their knees between her spread legs, lapping at the sticky white that still clung to her shaft, scooping thick gobs of it into their palms to smear over their own swollen pussies.

One, more impatient than the rest, climbed into her lap without ceremony, her short fingers guiding the blunt head to a glistening green entrance. Veth gasped, the heat closing around her again before she’d even had time to catch her breath.

Veth bit her lip hard, eyes crossing for a moment as the new rider sank lower. She couldn’t understand the words around her, but the meaning was clear- there would be no stopping until every single one of them had gotten what they wanted from her.

“Ohhh fuck me, I’m in trouble…”