Try to escape from the goblin king's harem

The thorny brambles prick at your flesh as you run headlong through the woods. You have no idea where you are running, only that you must get away. You can hear the baying of the wolves behind you. The animals have your scent and the riders are shrieking in their goblin tongue, each eager to claim the prize for your capture.

You crash over an embankment and fall down into a shallow stream of numbingly cold water. You've opened a gash on your arm and blood curls into the flowing creek. You hiss in pain and hold your hand over the wound, scrambling up the muddy opposite bank.

A year has passed since you were made Zakrog's pleasure **** and you have spent that time suffering and trying to escape from captivity. The first time was easy. Few slaves even attempt to escape. You swallowed your vomit and bedded Zakrog and made sure he drank too much wine. Then you slipped out. You made it all the way until morning, when the wolfriders found you asleep in a tree.

Zakrog had you lashed in front of the other slaves. His **** mistress, a tall north tribeswoman named Yara who always wears a silver mask to cover scars, hung your bound wrists from a hook in the middle of his palace and wielded a bullwhip that tore into you like a knife. You were left in a stupor of pain, with blood pouring down your back and coating your ass and legs. When Zakrog was satisfied, his guards cut you down from the hook and sent you to Zakrog's healer.

You recovered quickly with the help of the goblin herbal magic and in no time Zakrog was fondling your breasts and fucking your tight ass with his little prick as if nothing had happened. But you remembered. Even as the fat king howled and pumped his cum into your clenching bowels, you swore you would escape.

The second time was carefully planned. You spent weeks seducing one of Zakrog's guard, a brown-skinned goblin named Feerik. You would suck his bumpy cock until he hissed through his sharpened teeth, basting your throat with his tangy cum. Feerik brought you gifts and things you asked for in exchange for more hurried rutting and secret sucks in the shadows of the harem tents.

You never felt what the goblin felt, but you did come to enjoy your fleeting encounters for how different they were from Zakrog. The goblin king was lazy, demanding you do all the work, while Feerik, perhaps nervous of being caught in the harem tent, was quick and rough with you, grabbing your hair as he took you and holding your head to fuck your mouth.

Unbeknownst to Feerik, he was giving you the ingredients to a powerful poison that you eventually slipped into Zakrog's wine. When the fat goblin slumped over and began to foam from the mouth, you escaped, taking a potion you knew would hide you from sight.

For three days you made your way towards human lands. You felt freedom. But they caught you again. Zakrog had been saved from the poison after many hours in a coma. He sent his wolfriders to scour the land, and after three days they found you bathing in a stream. The wolfriders **** you visciously and tied you to a sledge to drag you back to the village.

There was no public punishment this time. Zakrog was beyond furious. He caught Feerik and had him beheaded. He burned the goblin's hut and cast his wives out of the tribe. And as for you, he marked your face with a tattoo of a skull. The crude ink burns even now, weeks later, your whole face marked with the white and black pigments. It means you are the living dead. On a whim, at a moment's fancy, Zakrog will kill you.

There was no guile to your third escape. You know it will be your last one way or the other. You killed the harem guard in the night, broke his neck and fled.

Only hours have passed since then and you can hear the wolves coming closer and closer. The goblins chattering with excitement. They're almost upon you. If they catch you, will they kill you on the spot or take you back to Zakrog for something more gruesome? You do not intend to find out!

In a panic, you try to decide which direction to flee. Ahead of you is only more dark woods, to the left there seems to be a clearing, and off to the right, dug into the muddy banks of the winding stream, you see what appears to be the entrance to a burrow just big enough to crawl into.