The Goblin’s Pet (18+) (Now a CYOA!)

I awake to the soft rustling of Elara tending to me, her sapphire eyes filled with a resigned sadness. My body is on fire, an ache consuming me from the inside out. I shift uncomfortably in our bed, a low groan escaping my lips as pain radiates from my bruised cunt.

“Easy,” she murmurs softly, her cool hand on my feverish forehead offering a modicum of relief. I flinch slightly under her touch - it feels good... too good. The effects of the pheromones coursing through me are already making themselves known.

Her hand falls away at my reaction and she steps back - hurt flashing in her eyes before she schools her expression into one of detachment. “You need to eat,” she says tersely, setting down a tray laden with food on the bedside table.

I watch mutely as she fusses about the room - tidying up, arranging things - all while giving me a wide berth. It's a stark contrast to how things used to be; where once there was comfort and warmth now there's only cold distance.

The food on the tray looks appetizing enough; warm soup and fresh bread paired with some fruits and cheese - it’s clear Elara has put thought into what might soothe my raw throat. Yet, despite my stomach’s protestations, I can't bring myself to eat.

Elara sighs exasperatedly at my lack of appetite. She seats herself gingerly on the edge of the bed and reaches out hesitantly towards me.

“You need to eat,” she repeats gently this time, placing the spoon at my lips with an encouraging nod.

Despite everything that has happened between us, despite all that Snib has done to me – it’s Elara’s kindness that hurts the most.

Her ministrations continue until every morsel has been consumed. Then she helps me into a sitting position with minimal fuss and watches as I gingerly sip from the cup of water next to me.

There's a newfound maturity in her eyes –a hardness– that wasn't there before; as if this whole ordeal is aging her prematurely while I’m stuck in this hypersexualized state of eternal youth.

She retreats from our bed again - those sapphire eyes darting towards my barely concealed breasts pressing against her nightgown. The material is stretched taut over their roundness - its tightness emphasizing their obscene size compared to hers.

A shudder wracks through me at Elara’s unintentional gaze – arousal surging unbidden within me despite everything else going on around us – another horrid side effect of Snib's lewd pheromones slowly poisoning my system.

“Are you okay?” Elara asks nervously when I shiver again, not understanding why I'm reacting like this.

My eyelids are heavy as I slip in and out of consciousness, each period of wakefulness shorter than the last. The feverish heat thrums under my skin, and the sensation amplifies the sensitivity of every touch. It's as if I'm trapped in my own body – a prisoner to the myriad sensations cascading through me.

In my mind's eye, Snib is everywhere. His grotesque features grow larger and more monstrous with each second. My nightmares twist his already vile form into an overgrown monstrosity, his disgusting cock magnified tenfold. In these perverse visions, my womanly body is little more than a plaything to him.

He hoists me up in the air by my ankles like a ragdoll, gravity causing my massive breasts to sag down towards my head, their weight unbearable. The monstrous Snib grunts with perverse pleasure as he drives his goblin cock into me relentlessly from behind.

His cruel laughter echoes through my mind as he plucks at the cords strung across my helpless form. I shriek in fear and humiliation – but he only laughs louder, using me for his amusement until I can't even remember what it feels like to be anything other than his plaything.

My cries become desperate pleas for Elara – and suddenly she's there, standing at the edge of this nightmarish vision. Her eyes are wide with terror and sorrow – yet she can't reach me no matter how hard she tries.

And then I'm screaming out her name over and over again...

Only to realize that I’m not in some nightmare realm but in our bedroom - drenched in sweat with Elara looking down at me with concern.

Her hands are gentle against my heated skin as she helps bring me back from the brink of this fever-induced hell. But it’s her words that ground me - their resonance filling up our room; washing over us like a healing balm.

The room swims in a haze, a concoction of fever and goblin musk hanging heavy in the air. The stench of Snib's pheromones feels almost tangible, creeping under my skin, soaking into the very marrow of my bones. My body hums in a maddening rhythm that I can't control – each beat coaxing forth a throbbing heat that pools low in my belly.

My whole body is sore. Fucked. Pounded into submission by Snib's monstrous goblin cock until I'm little more than a quivering, moaning mess of hyper-feminine flesh - made for nothing but his pleasure. Everything is amplified, dialed up to eleven; every whisper feels like a shout, every touch like an inferno on my hypersensitive skin.

It's overwhelming. Dehumanizing. And at the same time... Intoxicating.

The ludicrous curvaceousness of my body beckons lascivious thoughts unbidden to the forefront of my mind. Images I'd rather repress, reject... but they come nonetheless - flashes of Snib and his monstrous cock ramming into me while I squeal and moan like some sort of sex-starved nymph.

And amid all this turmoil sits Elara, an oasis of calm amidst the storm raging within me.

She's beautiful. Heart-wrenchingly so. Her soft auburn hair falls over her shoulders in loose waves, framing her delicate face perfectly. Her deep blue eyes - twin sapphires sparkling with an inner light - are full of love... and regret.

In this quiet moment we share, she seems almost ethereal – as though plucked straight from some dreamy fable to bless our humble home with her presence.

Her soft voice rouses me from my misery-ridden stupor as she reaches out to hold my hand in hers - her grip steady and comforting despite everything happening around us.

"It's not your fault," she says softly, her gaze never wavering from mine.

Her declaration hangs heavy in the air between us – absolution offered freely despite everything that has transpired. It’s too much and not enough all at once – I can only choke back tears as her words wrap around me like a warm blanket; offering comfort where none should exist.

"I've decided..." she trails off for a moment before continuing again with renewed vigor "It's not your fault... any of it."

She continues; her words painting a picture of hope amidst despair: The collar controlling me... Snib taking advantage... Zephyrion manipulating us all...

Her fingers trace over mine gently as she finishes speaking, her message clear: She understands what’s going on… and she forgives me for what happened last night.

  

Suddenly I find myself crying; tears streaming down my cheeks as I clutch onto Elara’s hand like a lifeline.

“I can’t do this without you,” I choke out between sobs – it’s an admission that leaves me raw and vulnerable but it’s the truth…  “I’m so sorry.”

Elara doesn’t say anything – she doesn’t need to… because it’s all there in those sapphire eyes: Her understanding… Her acceptance… Her love…

Her voice grows softer, more vulnerable, as she murmurs, "I wouldn't know what to do if I lost you, either... I need you now more than ever." She hesitates for a moment, placing a hand on her still-flat belly where the promise of new life grows. "We need to get through this... for the baby."

At the mention of our unborn child – a tiny glimmer of hope amidst all this darkness – I can't help the swell of protectiveness that washes over me. Tears pool in my eyes as my heart clenches painfully at the thought of our child growing inside of Elara's womb, innocent and oblivious to the horrors that surround it.

With trembling hands, I reach out to place my palm against Elara's stomach. It feels warm and soft under my touch, yet beneath it lies the miracle we both created – a symbol of our love even in these trying times.

"I know," I whisper hoarsely, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down upon me. "We'll find a way through this. We will." My voice is shaky with emotion but resolute.

Elara looks into my eyes, her sapphire orbs shimmering with unshed tears. She nods in agreement - her expression mixing fierce determination and fragile hope.

"Elise, I went to the herbalist and gnome’s shop again," she murmurs. Her fingers brush my sweat-dampened hair away from my forehead. "They are still out of Moonshade."

Her words cut through the foggy haze of my mind. The Moonshade potion, a mixture known for its potent ability to neutralize pheromones, had been my secret weapon against Snib's effects on me. It was not perfect by any means, but it dulled his influence considerably. Master Fendril, the wizard who had helped us originally, was the one who prescribed it.

"I don't understand... how can they be out of stock?" I ask weakly. “Who else would be buying it?”

"I suspect we know the answer to that," she answers grimly.

With shaky hands, Elara pulls out something small from her pocket – something glowing faintly violet: A tellstone.

"But, that reminded me of something else Master Fendril gave me," Elara's voice hushes to a whisper, her eyes glinting in the dim light as she gingerly rolls the tellstone in her hands. "He told me to use it only in case of dire need... and I think that time is now."

There's an air of solemnity in her words, a gravity that weighs heavily on my already burdened shoulders. These tiny magical devices are costly, usually reserved for nobles and powerful magic users.

"We can't be sure if he will even listen to our plea... or if he'd just take Zephyrion's side."

“Let’s do it anyway,” I say.

My heart pounds like a wild drum against my chest as Elara activates the tellstone, its faint purple light illuminating her determined face. She takes a deep breath and begins to speak into the magical device.

"Master Fendril," she says urgently, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "If you receive this... we need your help."

She then proceeds to explain our situation; about how Zephyrion has forced me back into the collar - back into this form – despite having previously been freed. She paints a picture of my degradation at Snib's hands and my constant humiliation under Zephyrion's watchful eye.

Sensing my urgency, Elara offers me the tellstone. The weight of the moment feels heavy in my palms as I take it from her, pressing it to my lips.

"The collar," I say hoarsely into the device. "Found in the Ironrock mine - It's an artifact of Maraan..." A pause here for effect - every word weighs heavy with dread – "...and Zephyrion is using it... to communicate with him."

Maraan - An ancient horror whose awakening once brought doom upon the legendary K'tarrans; invoking his name sends shivers down my spine - implying dire consequences for Zaelasia if he is disturbed from his eternal slumber.

"We cannot let that happen," I continue desperately. “We can't risk unleashing Maraan back into our world.”

I pass back the tellstone to Elara who then delivers our final plea: "Master Fendril, please send aid... Please come... Help us stop Zephyrion from bringing doom upon us all."

A beat of silence stretches between us as she lets out a shaky breath. Then opening the window wide she raises her arm high before releasing our only hope into the night sky.

The tiny glow of tellstone zips through open air like a shooting star - hopefully finding its recipient before it's too late.

—

The air grows heavy as the evening sets in. Elara and I sit side by side on the plush sofa, an air of tension surrounds us - a living cloak spun from anxiety, dread, and anticipation. The room is cast in the dim glow of the dying embers from the hearth, giving everything a hazy, otherworldly touch.

Elara is an image of gentle grace, clothed in a simple dress of lavender linen that accentuates her natural elegance. Her dress hugs her slender figure flatteringly, its modest cut not detracting from her inherent beauty. The sleeves run down to her wrists, lace detailing at their cuffs echoing the delicate trim of her square neckline.

As for me - even in my full-length navy cotton dress, there's no escaping the lewd reality of my body's curves. Its scoop neckline stretches wide over my too-full bust; the bountiful flesh spills out obscenely - threatening to burst from its confinements with every breath I take.

My hands instinctively cross over my chest for cover - a small act of rebellion against this perverse existence. My fingers run over a braid that Elara had twined into my hair earlier today - an attempt to restore some dignity to my situation. A simple twist running down to rest against one shoulder - it feels strange but comforting under my fingers.

Snib’s low chuckle slices through our silent contemplation. It’s a disgusting sound, grating and pervy – making me cringe inwardly as his yellow eyes sweep over us. He lounges across an armchair with one leg thrown carelessly over its armrest – his loincloth leaving little to the imagination.

Elara's sapphire eyes flash dangerously at him - her hands balling into fists on her lap as she bites back an angry retort.

"Master Zephyrion," she greets coldly as he steps into our living room.

"Oh, titcow," Snib's grating voice slithers through the dim room, his yellow eyes gleaming with crude pleasure. "How'd you like getting pounded by me fat cock last night?" He leers, his gnarled fingers making a lewd gesture in the air.

I clench my teeth, hyperventilating as a hot wave of mortification flushes through my body. My hands move instinctively to cover my heavy chest as a rush of images - debasing and obscene - flood my mind. The tangy taste of his salty seed that I had swallowed last night prickles at the back of my throat, its repulsive memory overwhelming me. A thick haze descends over my thoughts, muddling them - all triggered by the musky scent emanating from him.

Elara's face hardens beside me, her sapphire eyes sparking with incandescent rage.

"Enough!" Zephyrion's commanding voice slices through the tension-charged room, drawing our attention to him. His stormy grey eyes are sharp and calculating as they sweep over us. A warning flickers in their depths, silencing any potential retorts.

Snib retreats under Zephyrion's gaze, grumbling under his breath but ultimately falling silent. Elara's shoulders stiffen further but she wisely holds her tongue.

I attempt to speak but my voice comes out in a choked whisper, my mind still swirling from Snib's vulgar words and Zephyrion's intimidating presence.

Zephyrion regards us all again with his piercing gaze before he speaks once more - his words a sharp reminder of our places under his reign. He steps forward, holding up a shimmering glass rod etched with an intricate series of runes that seem to pulse with an inner light. His fingers dance over the surface, tracing patterns as the runes glow brighter.

"My arcanameter," he announces, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I have made some modifications that will allow me to channel and control the energy from Elise's collar."

He holds it aloft for us to examine - its fine craftsmanship glowing in the dim light of the room. Intricate symbols spiraling around its surface like a trail of starlight. It is an object of power and mystery, pulsating with hidden potential.

"But," Zephyrion adds ominously, his gaze moving back to me. "It will require a similar emotional outpouring from you...and Snib."

Snib's grin widens at this - a grotesque sight that sets my heart pounding. His crude voice breaks the silence as he eagerly offers his own lewd suggestion. "Think we need to ditch them condoms then."

Zephyrion gives no reaction to his words - his grey eyes remain cold and unfocused as they watch us. His rod flickers as my whimper fills the room - a brief flare of energy signaling my escalating anxiety.

Suddenly, Snib is on me, thrusting himself against me on the couch. I squirm in his grip and then shove him off with all my might - feeling a tightening pressure against my neck as I resist him.

Elara's blue eyes flash in fury as she turns on Zephyrion. "Why are you letting him do this?" she demands heatedly but receives no response.

As Snib leers back at Elara, gloating over last night's debauchery in graphic detail - 13 times, he crows smugly - something inside me snaps. The room spins as I crumple onto the couch, buckling under the onslaught of humiliation and shame.

Finally driven beyond her limits, Elara lunges at Snib – her fist crashing into his face with furious resolve – breaking his nose amidst a spray of blood. He crumples onto the floor in shock while a stunned silence descends over us all – our breaths held hostage in this precarious moment. Then, she stomps on him.

Cold metal bites into my flesh, the collar around my neck tightening, squeezing. Panic surges within me as I gasp, desperate for air. It feels like being held under water, lungs burning with the need to inhale. My hands claw at the iron band constricting my throat in a futile struggle for relief. I can hear Elara's horrified scream piercing the air, echoing within the four walls of our once peaceful home. But her voice seems to come from a distance, fading and distorted, drowned out by the ringing in my ears and my own pounding heartbeat.

Then comes an agonizing sensation that freezes my blood - a snap that echoes inside my head followed by an excruciating jolt of pain. My vision whites out as reality tilts wildly before fading to black - the last things I see are Elara's wide sapphire eyes filled with sheer terror. The floor rushes up to meet me as I crumple onto it in a lifeless heap.

In the moment following that snap... there's nothingness. An eerie stillness permeates through me - every sense dulled, every nerve muted. My body lies on the floor - a hollow shell now bereft of life’s essence. It's like watching myself from afar, detached and floating in some ethereal space where time doesn't exist.

A guttural groan rips through Snib as he comes awake; his crude words barely reaching me through this numbing silence. “Oi! ‘Nuff! ‘Nuff!” He shouts hoarsely at the collar which finally ceases its cruel constriction. But it’s too late – much too late.

My body is immobile - an empty shell separated from its soul by that fatal snap that now leaves me paralyzed in this dread-filled silence. My breasts rise and fall faintly with shallow breaths – each one a feeble attempt to cling to life.

The numbness gives way to terror that grips me in icy fingers – a realization of having been robbed of all control over my body; not even able to twitch a finger or wiggle a toe as this new wave of helpless despair washes over me.

As I lay on cold stone with nothing but emptiness inside me, Elara’s broken sobs fill my ears – her anguish slicing through this numb oblivion and stabbing into what remains of me – a heart that still beats feebly within its cage; each throbbing pulse carrying with it an echo of what was once Aldric... then Elise... now just an empty shell bereft of any hope or freedom.

The resonating sound of Zephyrion's voice cuts through the air, a chant that echoes with otherworldly energy. A glow emanates from his fingertips, casting ghastly shadows onto the floor. His eyes are devoid of compassion, only annoyance as he kneels beside me, his lips moving in a steady rhythm. His face forming dark, glowing lines.

Power flows from him, invisible currents of warmth winding their way around my body. It's gentle at first, a delicate touch that traces the edges of my shattered neck. Then it plunges deeper, a searing force that melds and manipulates muscle and bone alike.

The pain is instantaneous and overwhelming, ripping a strangled gasp from my lips as I jerk involuntarily against the grip of his magic. Every fiber of my being screams in protest as the bones snap back together - splintered edges grinding against each other in a jarring dance of healing and torment.

His voice amplifies in an eerie crescendo - each word pronounced with careful precision - a composition of arcane magic and raw willpower molding reality to his whims.

Beneath his chant, the sounds of my body knitting itself back together form a gruesome symphony - tendons creaking as they lengthen and contract around newly formed bone, muscle weaving back into place with wet squelches that echo nauseatingly in my ears.

It's an odd sensation - this healing. My skin prickles uncomfortably under Zephyrion’s spell; pins-and-needles tingling spreading through every nerve ending. The unnerving pull of flesh being magically stitched together from the inside out sends shivers down my spine - an oddly intimate experience that leaves me feeling exposed and violated.

The swirling vortex of energy surrounding us pulses with ethereal life, like the heartbeats of invisible spirits. Aetheric threads dance around us – strands of vibrant blues intertwined with streaks of emerald green and blood-red tendrils. They intertwine and shift within this tapestry, the chorus to Zephyrion’s echoing chants; a master weaver crafting his pattern onto the canvas that is reality itself.

Finally, it’s over – his voice dwindling to a murmur before silence takes its place again. He slumps back on his heels; fatigue lining his face but eyes still coldly calculating as they observe me.

With a curt wave of his hand, two royal guards appear at Elara’s side – their expressions grim under their shiny helmets as they grip her by her arms. Her frightened protests fall on deaf ears as they start dragging her away.

"For her husband's safety," Zephyrion announces coolly to no one in particular – though I know his gaze is trained on me; another cruel jab meant to twist this knife deeper into our hearts. "She needs to be locked in prison for a few days while we work."

"I'm sorry, my love!" Elara chokes out through her sobs, her gaze meeting mine in a fleeting moment of shared sorrow as the guards yank her away. The weight of her guilt is almost tangible, hanging heavily in the air long after she's gone.

Pushing through the pain, I manage to sit up slowly. My body feels shockingly normal. My neck doesn't even ache. The only evidence of my near-death experience is the taste of iron on my tongue and the lingering memory of agony.

Zephyrion straightens, his eyes aflame with an anger that sends a shiver down my spine. He scowls at me, his voice acidic as he spits out his words. "I had to use life magic on you, Elise. A year's worth."

His ire reverberates through the room as he glares at me expectantly. As if I'm supposed to shower him with gratitude for something he was compelled to do.

Elara's tearful voice breaks through the tension-filled silence once more, pleading from somewhere outside our line of sight. "I promise... I won't harm Snib anymore," she vows, desperation evident in every syllable. "Just don't... don't..."

Zephyrion pauses, his cold eyes flicking towards the door where Elara's voice still echoes before looking back at me. "I gave a year of my life for you today," he grates out bitterly between clenched teeth.

As if waiting for some acknowledgment from me, Zephyrion holds my gaze - an intense stare that seems to drill into me until I can't stand it anymore and have to look away.

Heaving a sigh that sounds more like a growl, Zephyrion finally waves his hand again - a dismissive gesture that nonetheless carries command and authority with it. "Fine," he concedes grudgingly and motions for the guards to release Elara.

As they leave with reluctant steps - releasing Elara back into our humble home - Zephyrion looks more wizened than before; worn down by the ordeal and irrevocably aged by his magic.

With a regretful look, Elara turns towards me. "I'm sorry, Elise," she whispers, the echo of her words lingering in the silence. Her sapphire eyes are filled with remorse and guilt, reflecting the pain that has become our shared existence.

My heart lurches at her words. Not because I blame her. Far from it. In fact, there's an odd sort of satisfaction in seeing Snib getting his just desserts even if it was only a punch and not the fate he truly deserved.

The reason for my distress is purely selfish: The sight of my wife so abjectly humiliated and contrite... it's a stark reminder of just how far we've fallen from grace.

"Fetch me a glass," Zephyrion's stern command cuts through our silent exchange, bringing us back to reality. With a stiff nod, Elara dutifully hurries to the kitchen.

When she returns, she's holding an elegant crystal glass filled with drinking water that refracts the dim light. She offers it to Zephyrion but he shakes his head.

"No," he says coldly. "Empty the water out."

Confused but obedient, Elara pours out the water onto the flagstone floor where it quickly soaks into the grout lines.

From the recesses of a sealed bag, Zephyrion withdraws a familiar sight. The off-white latex filled to the brim with goblin seed, sloshing around inside like thickened cream in a glass vial. He holds it aloft by a pair of silver tongs, the object of our mortification jiggling obscenely at his behest.

Elara's face drains of color at the sight, her azure eyes wide and horrified. My own reaction isn't much better - my heart drops into my stomach as revulsion courses through me. Each ripple within the grotesque sac serves as a stark reminder of last night's debasement; of Snib's cruel laughter ringing in my ears as he forced me to wear his seed like grotesque ornaments.

"I'm sure you remember this," Zephyrion states coldly, his tone bearing an undercurrent of distaste as he brandishes the bloated condom before us. "A token from your time with Master Snib."

At his words, Snib grins, his yellow eyes glinting with perverse pleasure. His shrill laughter grates against my nerves like nails on chalkboard, further accentuating the sickening churn in my belly.

Zephyrion continues unfazed by our reactions - if anything, they seem to fuel him further. "It seems I need assurance that you won't try anything... foolish again," he addresses Elara directly, his stormy gaze pinning her like an insect under scrutiny. “We can’t risk the death of your husband jeopardizing our task.”

Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, Elara meets his gaze with resolute defiance burning bright within her sapphire orbs. "What do you want?" she demands boldly despite her quivering voice.

Zephyrion responds with a chilling smile that doesn't reach his cold eyes - one that promises anything but comfort and safety. "It's simple really," he begins in an eerily calm tone, gesturing towards the cum-filled condom held aloft in his grasp.

I feel a sickening dread building within me at the implication behind his words even before he says them out loud.

"I want you to drink this."

The world seems to grind to a halt at those four words; shockwaves rippling through us at their sheer audacity. The utter humiliation radiates through every nerve ending in my body; making my stomach roil and my heart pound against its cage.

Elara's mouth drops open in horror and disbelief while I struggle to form words that could convey the depth of revulsion coursing through me right now.

"N- no... you can't..." I stammer out weakly but Zephyrion cuts me off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"You see," he goes on unperturbed by our reactions, "this 'insurance' as I choose to call it contains certain properties that will ensure Elara does not harm Snib again."

He pauses for dramatic effect; eyes gleaming coldly under furrowed brows as he waits for us to process what he just said.

Elara looks torn between panic and despair - guilt etched onto her features like fresh scars. Her gaze meets mine and I see it there - determination burning fiercely behind fear-riddled sapphire pools. She swallows hard against visible nausea before speaking up, her voice low yet unwavering:

"I'll do it."

The wizard’s hidden dagger flashes ominously under the dim light, a paradoxical beauty that sends a shiver down my spine. Its handle is made of polished silver, encrusted with precious gems of rubies and sapphires. It's an object of artistry and opulence, a physical manifestation of Zephyrion’s power and wealth.

With his cold gaze trained on Elara, Zephyrion skillfully manipulates the condom over the glass. The trembling translucent sac suspended precariously above the crystal. My breath catches as he makes a swift, clean cut near its base.

A choked whimper escapes Elara’s lips as thick goblin seed begins to cascade from the puncture. It pours out in an obscene stream – heavy globs that fall into the glass with sickening plops. The viscous liquid oozes lazily, swirling in grotesque tendrils that coil around each other like tiny serpents in a sea of filth.

The room fills with an overwhelming stench - a potent mix of rancid cream and musky sweat that hangs heavy in the air, coating my tongue with its pungency. It's a scent I’m all too familiar with after last night’s degrading ordeal.

It’s impossible not to feel something as my body takes in Snib’s putrid scent once more; my traitorous body responding despite itself. The heat between my legs intensifies, making me squirm uncomfortably as dampness starts to spread along my inner thighs beneath my navy dress.

Elara’s hands tremble uncontrollably as she grasps the glass; her knuckles turning white from the exertion of trying to keep it steady while it fills up with Snib’s seed. She holds her breath, pressing her lips together tightly; a futile attempt to block out the repulsive odor filling our nostrils.

"Elara... don’t..." My voice comes out more strained than I intend it to be - desperation clinging onto every syllable as I reach out for her; hoping against hope that she would relent.

But she does not waver; instead she meets my pleading gaze with determined sapphire eyes even as tears begin to gather along their edges – an emotional dam threatening to break at any moment.

Her beautiful face is a mask of dread and revulsion – fresh freckles blooming across her nose and cheeks like constellations against her pale skin. Her lower lip quivers uncontrollably – caught between clenched teeth that flash pearl white against her vivid red blush.

The glass now filled to the brim, Zephyrion finally discards the spent condom - dropping it onto the floor where it lands with a wet thud; just another addition to this grotesque tableau playing out before our eyes.

The goblin seed within threatens to spill over at Elara's slightest movement - its creamy surface alive with wriggling tendrils that slither along each other in languid waves; snaking trails leaving behind milky paths only for new ones to form again within seconds.

Slowly – ever so slowly – she begins lifting it towards her lips. Her hands shake violently but she doesn’t falter, her determination unwavering even in face of such unimaginable debasement.

Her eyes never leave mine; shining beacons amidst chaos that hold onto a sliver of hope – hope for me… for us… even if it means succumbing to this vile act herself.

And all I can do is watch… watch as Elara brings herself one step closer towards swallowing down this sickening concoction crafted by Zephyrion's cruel whimsy.

She winces at every slight movement - their nauseating swirls seemingly magnified by their crystal prison; reflecting myriad colors into our dim surroundings creating an odd spectacle for such a revolting sight.

Seeing Elara raise the glass towards her quivering lips is like a blade straight to my heart - every second a slow and agonizing twist. My body is rigid, my breath hitching in my throat as the unbearable tension builds. Snib’s grating laughter rips through the silence, adding to the cacophony of dread resonating within me.

"Oi, lady," he jeers from where he lounges in his seat; one grubby hand gingerly nursing his broken nose while the other fondles his massive goblin cock with an obscene pleasure. "If ya want some fresh gobbo goo instead, I'm right 'ere."

The crude suggestion is met with a horrified look from Elara; her sapphire eyes widening even further at Snib's blatant vulgarity. Yet, she doesn't back down; only giving him a scornful glare before turning back towards the glass.

I can almost feel her repulsion through our shared gaze - her radiant eyes reflecting an image of twisted disgust and abhorrent fear that sends shivers down my spine. The precious liquid gleams beneath the dim light; its creamy surface alive with grotesque swirls that seem to mock us from within its crystal prison.

With bated breath, I watch as Elara tips the glass ever so slightly, allowing a small amount of Snib's seed to enter her mouth. The choked whimper that leaves her lips echoes painfully within me - each convulsive swallow pulling at my heartstrings as she fights against the instinctual urge to wretch.

"No... no... it's terrible..." she chokes out between spasms; a pathetic dribble of cum trailing down from her lips and splashing onto the floor beneath. Snib’s raucous laughter fills the room once more; his amusement at our plight evident in every crude chuckle and lewd comment he hurls our way.

"Heh! It's an acquired taste... you'll learn t' love it," he sneers - a perverse grin spreading across his grotesque face that makes my skin crawl.

The wave of shame that washes over me is all-consuming - leaving me feeling helpless and hollowed out from within. "Elara... stop it..." I plead weakly; each word laced with heartbreak and guilt that does nothing but fan the flames of Snib’s enjoyment further.

"No," Elara’s reply comes out strained yet determined – softspoken defiance wrapped around three simple letters. Her beautiful face contorts with disgust as she grits her teeth against another wave of nausea – fighting against it with all her might as she forces herself to continue on.

"If we're getting through these last few days," she stammers out hoarsely; sapphire orbs shining bright with unshed tears yet burning fiercely underneath – a testament to just how strong she truly is despite everything we’ve been put through together. "We're getting through them... together."

With newfound resolve fueling her actions, Elara lifts the glass once more – tipping it back up despite everything until a sizeable mouthful slides down into her waiting mouth. Her struggle is painfully visible – every gulp sending shockwaves rippling across her body like physical manifestations of our shared humiliation.

Snib’s comments are nothing more than background noise now – everything in me focused solely on Elara as she forces herself to swallow down mouthful after mouthful of goblin seed; each gulp echoing hauntingly within our modest abode.

  

Her cheeks flush prettily under strain while tears gather along the rims of her wide sapphire orbs – ready to spill over at any moment yet held back by sheer willpower alone.

  

Yet even amidst such abhorrent debasement, I cannot ignore my body's betrayal – an unsettling warmth spreading between my thighs that drips onto the fabric of my nightgown; soaking it with evidence of an arousal I loathe even acknowledging.

  

My mind reels at this unexpected reaction – confusion swirling within me like hurricane winds howling against sanity's walls.

  

I see Elara swallowing down another load; an obscene trail staining those perfect cherry lips before disappearing into gaping maw beyond – swallowed away until only remnants remain.

  

Her gasping breaths echo around us; each ragged inhalation echoing deeply within me – resonating with a sickening longing that feels so wrong yet burns hotter by every passing second.

I watch Elara as she finally sets the glass down, her hands trembling slightly. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing as she forces down the last of the goblin's disgusting seed. Her face is strained, pale, a contrast to her vibrant auburn hair. Her body shudders, a full tremor that betrays her revulsion. The crystal glass sits on the table between us, its sides smeared with a sickly yellow stain.

Her sapphire eyes find mine in the dimly lit room. There's determination there, but also pain. It's my fault she's in this situation. My fault she's forced to degrade herself like this - all because of my damned transformation.

I reach out tentatively and squeeze her hand, an attempt to offer some comfort amidst our shared despair. She gives me a weak smile and squeezes back - trying so hard to be strong for both of us when I can barely keep myself together.

"Elara," I whisper hoarsely, my voice choked with emotion I can't hide. "I'm so sorry."

For everything.

For not being strong, like I should have been.

For lying to her.

For betraying our vows.

For letting the goblin debase me... and now her.

The guilt churns in my stomach like a vile potion, each wave more potent than the last.

Elara just looks at me; sadness etched into every line of her beautiful face but also resilience that leaves me awestruck despite myself.

"I feel it..." she whispers; voice shaky as she glances down towards her flat belly wrapped snug within lavender linen – tainted from within by Snib’s vile seed.

Her words send cold dread coursing through my veins – a chilling reminder of what might happen if Zephyrion’s deranged plan were to succeed; if Elara were to be cursed with carrying Snib’s offspring…

Before I can say anything more, the door creaks open and Zephyrion steps through, two royal guards flanking him on either side. His stormy grey eyes flicker over Elara's ravaged face and then settle onto the stained crystal glass still sitting on the table between us.

Satisfied with whatever he sees in our despair-ridden faces and the now empty vessel once filled with humiliation personified - he nods curtly before turning towards Snib lounging across from us.

“Remember our agreement,” he warns in a deadly quiet voice that sends shivers down my spine despite myself; his gaze cold and unyielding as steel against Snib’s carefree indifference before he finally turns his back on us – leaving us alone once again under Snib’s mercy… or lack thereof.

Once they’re gone - leaving behind an oppressive silence punctuated only by our ragged breaths - I turn back towards Elara; fear gnawing away at me as I reach out for her once more.

She accepts my comforting touch without hesitation – resting her head against my shoulder while wrapping slender arms around me in return; seeking solace amidst shared despair even after everything that’s transpired between us tonight… even after everything we’ve lost…

The quiet is broken abruptly by Snib’s harsh laughter filling up our modest abode with cruel mockery while he gets up from his chair; rubbing at his growing bulge beneath the tattered loincloth conspicuously.

  

"Shouldn't 'ave hit me, lady," he jeers at Elara – yellow eyes gleaming maliciously beneath furrowed brows while an obscene smirk stretches across his grotesque features. "Maybe I'll forget about the punch if you make me a decent meal." He rubs at his battered nose with a scowl.

Wordlessly, Elara rises from her chair, smoothing out the wrinkles from her lavender dress. She pauses, eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer before she turns away. The moment stretches painfully thin as I watch her slender figure disappear into the kitchen – leaving me alone with my goblin tormentor.

"Elara!" I call out after her, but she doesn't turn around.

With Elara gone, Snib's cruel smile widens as he shifts in his seat – gleeful anticipation dancing within his beady yellow eyes. He licks his lips – chapped and broken under rough strokes of an equally cracked tongue before sauntering over towards me; each step echoing ominously within our once peaceful abode.

  

"Looks like it’s just you and me now," he smirks – taking the seat next to me; invading my personal space without any hint of hesitation. His pudgy hand reaches out to grope at my breasts through navy cotton – fondling the soft flesh obscenely while lewd chuckles fill up the space between us.

  

"I liked your outfit better yesterday,” he drawls out between crude laughter – fingers digging into plush mounds encased within simple fabric; squeezing and kneading until unbearable heat spreads from beneath their wandering digits.

  

Tears well up in my eyes at the casual reminder of yesterday’s debasing ordeal; my body betraying me under Snib’s unwelcome touch as an unwanted heat starts kindling deep within my core.

Memories come rushing back unbidden - Snib's brutal domination still fresh in my mind. The feeling of being filled over and over by his grotesque goblin cock; the disgusting squelch of each thrust echoing hauntingly amidst crude moans and rough grunts while they filled one condom after another - eventually adorning my body in a degrading array of sloshing sacs that jiggled lewdly with every move I made.

The image sends a nauseating shiver down my spine - pulling at gagging reflexes buried deep within while an unwanted dampness begins spreading along inner thighs; pooling onto simple cotton beneath smooth curves.

It feels wrong... so horribly wrong to feel this way; mind protesting against every wave of arousal washing over me under Snib’s vulgar ministrations despite body's damning responses.

Sobbing breaks free from clenched teeth - raw and broken while trembling hands clutch at torn navy cloth wrapped tightly around pliant form; desperately seeking some form of grounding amidst cruel reality unfolding around us.

Snib chuckles darkly against tear-stained cheeks - ragged breaths fanning hotly over sensitive skin that prickles under every huff and puff escaping through chapped lips.

His unwelcome touch continues its obscene exploration across generous curves encased in navy cotton - mapping out unfamiliar territories underneath rough fingers until throbbing ache between trembling thighs becomes all-consuming despite desperate protests screaming loudly within increasingly hazy mind.

Snib pulls away just as sudden onset of vertigo washes over me - world tilting dangerously on its axis as hazy vision blurs dangerously along edges; forcing me to grip onto nearby table for support.

"Got something special planned for both you girls," he smirks arrogantly while adjusting bulbous bulge beneath tattered loincloth conspicuously – grubby hands running down its length crudely before settling onto hefty balls beneath with a pleased sigh.

I can't help but wonder... how long will it take for Elara to succumb to the effects of Snib's goblin seed? The fear takes hold, tightening my chest with dread. It had taken me less than a day to succumb after my first dose of the goblin's cum... but that was a much larger load, straight from Grokk’s balls, right into my tummy. Elara's was just a glass... and the cum had been outside of Snib’s body for nearly a day. Could it be that the pheromones don't last as long when exposed to air?

Desperately, I latch onto this hope, even as I'm consumed by guilt and worry for my wife. I can't bear the thought of her experiencing what I did... the overpowering lust, the loss of control. The thought fills me with disgust and rage, simmering beneath my surface calm.

Yet even as these thoughts race through my mind, I feel a strange warmth spreading through me. My body feels oddly heavy and languid; my movements slow and sensuous. My head throbs gently with each heartbeat - my vision blurring in and out of focus as if looking through a foggy window.

"Won't take long... Just leave everything to ol' Snibby..." the goblin adds nonchalantly – propping his feet up onto a vacant chair across from us while leaning back into his seat leisurely. I don’t know what he’s talking about.

The sensations I’m experiencing are unsettlingly familiar. An icy shiver runs down my spine at the memory - revulsion pooling in my stomach like sour milk.

But then why do I feel so hot? Why does this soft cotton dress feel so heavy against my skin? Why does each brush of fabric against my nipples send sparks of pleasure coursing through my body?

My hand moves on its own accord - ghosting over the ample curve of my breasts; fingertips brushing lightly against sensitive nipples straining against the confines of navy cotton.

  

Where's Snib?

The realization hits me as my mind struggles to push through the haze of arousal and confusion clouding my thoughts. My heart thumps loudly in my chest, each beat echoing the dread seeping into my veins. I can't see him from where I'm sitting, his chair abandoned, the rickety wood creaking slightly in relief.

I’m drawn back to the heat radiating off me, waves of it rising from beneath the fabric of my dress and clinging to my skin in a sticky sheen of perspiration. I can feel it trickling down between my breasts, pooling in the valley of cleavage where it cools rapidly against my skin.

I lift the hem of my skirt slightly, needing to cool down before I combust with this unwanted heat. The cooler air hits me immediately, brushing up against my damp stockings and sending shivers up and down my spine.

My fingers slip beneath the fabric, tracing a path upwards past my thick thighs, towards a waist that dips inwards to create my exaggerated hourglass silhouette. As they move higher, they brush against the dampness hidden away under plain cotton panties – touching onto heated flesh that throbs impatiently for more.

As soon as they hit soft flesh again – this time on my swollen breasts, straining obscenely against navy blue cotton - my soft moans mix into the quiet symphony already playing out around us.

  

My heavy tits strain against confining fabric – hypersensitive nipples brushing onto coarse material with every breath drawn; each soft exhale causing bountiful mounds to rise and fall hypnotically while gentle rustling fills up the otherwise silent room.

  

A momentary lapse occurs then – my mind going blank again as my needy fingers find their way back onto a swollen nipple; twisting and tugging at hardened nubs until another needy moan breaks free from clenched teeth.

"What... what am I doing?" My voice is weak, shaky - shocked by what I'm allowing myself to do.

My body lurches as I push myself off the chair, desperately trying to shake off the fog clouding my mind. My head spins, but I steady myself against the table, swallowing hard.

"I... I need to check on Elara," I tell myself out loud, needing the reassurance of my own voice in this strange silence.

I wobble unsteadily on my feet as I make my way out of the dining room and towards the kitchen - each step feeling like an eternity as I fight against the heavy fog of arousal weighing me down.

My heart flutters anxiously as I push open the kitchen door - each beat echoing loudly within my chest while emerald orbs scan over familiar surroundings; seeking out her figure amidst warm hues dancing playfully across rustic woodwork under dim lantern light.

Finally, they settle onto her slender silhouette moving with practiced ease among brass pots and wooden bowls; a picture of domestic grace encapsulated within the tranquil lavender cloth that hugs at her figure subtly - painting a vision so ethereal that it leaves me breathless.

"Elara..." The word is barely more than a whisper - swallowed up by the gentle sizzling and bubbling sounds coming from the cooking pots perched precariously over the roaring flame. But she hears it nonetheless - instantly freezing in place before slowly turning around to face me; sapphire orbs sparkling under the flickering light while a small smile tugs at the corners of her cherry lips.

"Elise," she answers back softly – setting down the wooden spoon she had been holding onto with an almost imperceptible tremble before moving closer. "I was... just making dinner."

Her voice is slightly shaky, but she quickly covers it up with a sweet smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her fingertips graze lightly against her throat, where her skin looks flushed beneath the collar of her dress.

She moves towards one of the pots, gently stirring its contents. "I'm making a rosemary chicken stew... with fresh bread." Her words flow smoothly over me like a calming balm – soothing away some of the fears bubbling away within my gut while drawing forth a soft smile onto my nervous lips.

The smell wafts towards me then – subtle hints of rosemary mixing in with the rich aromas rising from the simmering broth; filling up the quaint kitchen with enticing scents that leave my mouth watering despite everything.

"It smells good," I manage to choke out past the thick lump lodged within my throat; emerald orbs focused solely on the slender figure moving gracefully between cooking utensils and ingredients spread haphazardly across the counters.

"Thank you." She sounds grateful for the distraction.

"Elara, how are you feeling?" I blurt out, my voice barely above a whisper. There’s a tremble to it, a hint of the raw fear that gnaws at my heart. It echoes in the silent kitchen, over the bubbling pot and the clinking utensils.

Elara freezes mid-stir, her back still turned towards me. I can see the way her shoulders tense, the way she grips the wooden spoon just a little tighter.

“I…” She starts to say something but instead lets out a small sigh, her hand pausing over the pot. "I'm alright," she finally says, turning around to give me a small smile.

She looks at me with those sapphire eyes of hers, so blue they remind me of summer skies. And just as infinite. But there's something different about them now. Something hazy... haunted... fearful even? I can't quite put my finger on it.

“I think...” Elara hesitates for a moment before finally continuing on with quiet resignation coloring her soft voice; pulling at the heartstrings playing out a mournful melody within my battered heart while she wipes away invisible specks off the apron tied snugly around her slender waist.

“Can you cut up some more vegetables for the stew?” she asks me, deftly changing the subject. There's an awkwardness in her words - like she's scrambling to keep us both grounded in reality while everything around us threatens to implode.

I watch as Elara retrieves another wooden board and knife from one of the shelves - setting it down in front of me with smooth efficiency that belies her trembling fingers brushing against mine inadvertently during the quick exchange.

We fall into comfortable silence after that – working side by side like we always have; falling back onto familiar roles under the comforting cloak of domestic tranquility offering temporary respite amidst the cruel reality threatening to burst forth from beneath the surface calm any moment now.

My hands move with practiced ease across the rough surface – chopping up hearty carrots and crisp celery stalks into bite-sized pieces; their vibrant colors a stark contrast against the dull brown wood while emerald orbs stay focused on the rhythmic motions being played out underneath my skilled fingers despite the growing arousal gnawing away at every rational thought trying desperately to surface within my increasingly hazy mind.

Even now… here... doing this mundane task together feels oddly intimate… Something about sharing this domestic task brings an unexpected warmth seeping into my chest. My body feels heavy yet strangely floaty… as if my senses are being heightened and dulled all at once.

"Elise, can you help set the table?" Elara's voice cuts through my thoughts like a sharp knife, pulling me out of the swirling pit of my own lust-filled thoughts. I blink at her, my hands stilling mid-chop.

"Yes... yes, of course," I stammer, wiping my hands on the apron tied around my waist before moving towards the dining room. "How many places?" I ask over my shoulder, daring to hope.

"Just two." The words are barely above a whisper but they ring through the room like a triumphant melody – filling up my heart with relief while my footsteps seem lighter; filled with renewed purpose as I move towards the intricately carved oak dining table resting snugly against the far wall.

The process of setting up is familiar and comforting in its normalcy; the soft clink of ceramic plates against wood, the delicate rustle of silverware being carefully arranged, and finally, the addition of glasses to complete each setting. Despite everything... it feels normal.

A wave of warmth washes over me as I step back to admire my handiwork - two settings ready for a shared meal between husband and wife. Or, wife and wife. Despite what has happened... despite what we've become... we're still here - still holding onto each other.

Feeling marginally better, I go back into the kitchen to fetch the warm bread that Elara has just pulled from our old stone oven. The delicious smell fills up my nostrils – stirring up the hunger that had been lying dormant until now while my hands automatically reach out for the thick linen cloth laying next to it.

As I wrap the warm loaves within the soft fabric – careful not to burn my fingers on the hot crust or drop them due to my shaking limbs – something else hits me all at once.

The all-encompassing scent of arousal lingers in the air around me - wafting up from between my thighs and underneath my heavy breasts; mixing in with the enticing scents already filling up the small kitchen until there’s no separating one from another anymore. I feel the goblin cum working in me, radiating out from my stomach and coursing through my veins.

Leaning back against the cool kitchen wall, I take in a heavy breath and then let it out slowly, focusing on each rise and fall of my heavy chest. The sheer weight of my bosom pulls at me, a constant reminder of the alien body I'm trapped in.

Another breath, slower this time. Inhale... exhale... My heartbeat gradually returns to a more normal rhythm. The foggy veil of desire that had been clouding my thoughts seems to lift slightly and I feel like I can think more clearly now.

"Elara?" I speak up hesitantly, still struggling with my lingering embarrassment. "Do you think Snib will be okay with not having dinner?"

Elara looks at me with a slightly furrowed brow, her face flushed and perspiring in the candlelight.

"He is having dinner," she replies with an odd tone in her voice that catches me off guard.

"But," confusion creases my forehead as I struggle to keep up with the conversation, "I only set two places at the table."

Elara’s lips pull up into a smile - one that doesn't quite reach her eyes - but she says nothing more. Something about that smile gives me pause. It's different... off somehow...

A strange thought strikes me then and I voice it before thinking better of it.

“Alright,” I say slowly, pushing away from the wall and straightening up to full height again – or what would have been full height had I still been Aldric - “I’ll go find Snib.”

“Why?” Elara’s question cuts through the thick silence hanging between us; forcing out a startled gasp as my emerald orbs widen slightly under the abrupt query.

“Because…” the words trail off into silence as confusion dances across my delicate features before realization dawns bright within my mossy green depths “…I don’t know where he is.”

Once again Elara’s lips stretch into that strange smile; something secretive sparkling within her sapphire orbs sending shivers down my spine as my trembling fingers reach down to grab at the hem of my lavender dress draped around my slender figure.

“He’s right here, silly,” her voice reverberates through the small kitchen, her fingers tugging the hem of her dress upwards. I watch in fascinated horror as inch by inch, the soft lavender fabric rises, revealing the petite figure of Snib nestled comfortably beneath her ample skirt.

Shock slams into me with the force of a tidal wave. I stumble backwards, my pulse pounding like a drum in my ears as my mind struggles to comprehend what I’m seeing. Snib's grubby hands fondling Elara's ass… slapping it, his long tongue snaking its way between her legs… licking between the folds of Elara's perfect red-haired pussy.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight - at the sheer obscenity of it all. Her ass… Her body that only Aldric - that only I - had ever touched… is being manhandled by that disgusting creature.

“Elara…” My voice is barely above a whisper, choked out around the lump forming in my throat.

Snib grins at me from between Elara's thighs, his sharp yellow eyes glinting with perverse satisfaction. "Yer wife’s got a really nice pussy," the goblin remarks crudely, jamming a finger up into her.

Elara gasps, a small whimper slipping past her lips. A pan clatters to the floor and for a moment, all I can hear is the ringing of metal against stone. I see her face scrunch up in a mixture of pain and pleasure, her beautiful sapphire eyes fluttering shut as Snib continues to fondle her.

Heat rushes through me like wildfire as I stumble back against the cool kitchen wall, my breath hitching in my throat. My heart pounds loudly in my chest, echoing loudly in the silence of the room. The sight before me is obscene - my wife's dress hiked up around her waist as Snib grovels between her legs. A knot tightens in my stomach at the sight and I let out an involuntary moan.

Elara’s head jerks up at the sound, locking eyes with me across the room. Her face is flushed - flushed with pleasure or humiliation I can't tell. But what shocks me is what I see reflected back at me - lust.

"Elise," she gasps out as Snib gives another brutal thrust, "Elise... you've been having all this fun..." Her voice trails off into a whimper as Snib adds another finger, his actions growing bolder by the second.

And then she's reaching down and pushing away Snib's hand from between her legs. His yellow eyes flash with surprise but he doesn't resist, allowing Elara to guide him out from under her skirt.

"I want more." Elara declares simply as she pulls herself together.

There's a moment of silence, heavy and charged, before my wife speaks again. Her voice is husky, thick with arousal. "Sit down," she commands, her sapphire eyes never leaving mine.

I blink in surprise at her tone but find myself obeying without question. My body moves on autopilot, my legs carrying me to the table even as my mind screams in protest.

"Oi, cow tits." Snib's gruff voice breaks through my daze and I glance over at him. He grins at me, yellow eyes flashing with cruel amusement. "This was a long time comin’."

I grimace at his words, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over me. My hands clench into fists at my sides but I force myself to remain still - for Elara.

As if on cue, Elara emerges from the kitchen carrying two steaming bowls of stew in her hands. The scent of rosemary chicken wafts towards us and my stomach grumbles despite the circumstances.

The stew looks mouthwatering - chunks of succulent chicken submerged in a rich, creamy broth speckled with finely chopped herbs and vegetables. Freshly baked bread sits next to it; its warm aroma mixing enticingly with the fragrant stew.

With a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, Elara places a bowl in front of both Snib and me before stepping back - her hands smoothing down the front of her lavender dress subconsciously.

A pit forms in my stomach as I look up at her, the stew forgotten for now. "What about you?" My voice comes out softer than intended - almost pleading.

Elara chuckles softly, but there's no humor in it - just raw lust lacing each syllable as she steps back further. "Oh... I've got something else, that I would like."

Her face is flushed now - a deep rosy hue that contrasts starkly against her pale complexion.

Her large, shapely breasts rise and fall rapidly beneath the lavender fabric.

A pang of jealousy shoots through me as I watch Elara descend onto the plush carpet; grace personified even as she disappears from sight under the heavy oak table sitting between Snib and me.

The little goblin laughs, a grating, rough sound that echoes around the room. "Why don't ya just play with yer tits or something?" He suggests with a sly grin, his gaze fixed on my chest. His yellow eyes glint with cruel amusement as he watches me squirm in my seat, my face flushing under his lewd gaze.

The sound of Snib's loincloth rustling reaches my ears, followed by an abrupt grunt of pleasure. The blood drains from my face as realization dawns. Elara is beneath the table... Elara is...

I swallow hard, struggling to hold back the wave of nausea threatening to spill forth. My head spins, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. From under the heavy oak table comes the faint sound of wet slurping and soft moans, the noises obscene and utterly debasing.

The sounds are inescapable - amplified in the stifling silence that envelops us - and I feel a lump forming in my throat at the implication. "Elara..." I whimper helplessly, reaching out blindly across the table.

"Stop it," Snib barks out between grunts of pleasure – each one louder than the last while I sit there; rendered helpless under the onslaught of raw emotion threatening to burst forth from my trembling figure clad in a blue cotton dress stretched tight over ample curves.

"Elise," Elara's voice floats up from under the table – sounding breathless and husky against the silence settling heavily within the small dining room “Eat your food.”

I stare blankly at the bowl of stew before me, its enticing aroma completely lost on me now. The soft clatter of silverware against ceramic seems to echo deafeningly in the otherwise silent room, a cruel reminder of my own helplessness.

The savory stew, which under any other circumstances would have been comforting, now sits unappealing in front of me. "Elise... eat," Snib commands through gritted teeth - pleasure and impatience lacing his rough voice.

The cold metal of my collar prickles against the skin of my neck, a harsh reminder of Snib's control over me. I can't disobey him... can't afford to even try. Not when my life hangs in the balance.

Swallowing down the bitter lump in my throat, I force myself to pick up the spoon – its cool surface pressing uncomfortably into the soft flesh of my palm while my fingers curl around the smooth handle.

Bringing it up to my quivering lips takes more effort than it should - each movement feels labored and heavy under the weight of the humiliation settling deeply within my chest.

My stomach churns unpleasantly as the first spoonful of stew slips past my parted lips and down my throat; a mix between chicken and rosemary that normally would have been delightful but now...

Now it just tastes like ash.

Beneath the heavy oak table – hidden from sight – Elara moans softly; each sensual sound feeling like a dagger stabbing directly into my heart while Snib grunts out his satisfaction from above with crude laughter echoing around the small dining room.

His eyes meet mine across the table – yellow orbs glittering with malicious glee as he watches every painful swallow I take while one grubby hand reaches down under the table again – most likely to weave through Elara's auburn curls.

The wet sounds grow louder – more obscene – with each passing second; her enthusiastic slurping only interrupted by gasps and moans that resonate deeply within me while cold dread settles heavily at the pit of my stomach.

I can feel arousal pooling between my thighs, despite everything; a shameful reminder of how wicked this situation truly is. A blush spreads across my cheeks - the heat searing my pale skin in stark contrast to the cool touch of the collar encircling my slender neck as my body betrays me once again.

My eyes dart down to rest on my heavy cleavage, peeking out from the low-cut neckline of my navy dress - two full mounds straining against the fabric with each labored breath I take.

Underneath the table, Elara continues her ministrations - her muffled moans and sloppy sounds filling the room in an obscene symphony of pleasure. Each wet slurp and satisfied grunt sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through my veins - pooling heavily between my trembling thighs.

Involuntarily, one hand drifts downward - pressing firmly against the soft mound hidden beneath layers of fabric. My fingers dance lightly over the sensitive area - its warmth seeping into my palm despite the barrier.

Through it all, I continue eating mechanically, each spoonful slipping past my dry lips as if on autopilot. My other hand ventures lower still - slipping under the fabric of my dress to caress the bare flesh underneath.

My fingers brush against my delicate lace underwear - tracing its edges before venturing further inward, to the wetness. I’m in a daze. But I know this will feel good.

Beneath the soft lace lies warm flesh - smooth and plump against exploring fingers. A gasp slips past my lips as my fingers find my engorged nub, nestled at the center of the slick folds - stroking it gently with feather-light touches that send sparks shooting up my spine.

My hips jerk reflexively as waves of pleasure surge through me. My body is so responsive... so sensitive... it's overwhelming.

Snib's grunts grow louder. It's not just lewd, it's… triumphant. Like a warrior on the battlefield, declaring his victory. Each guttural sound bounces off the stone walls, amplifying in intensity until it echoes within my skull, a tormenting reminder of what is happening beneath the table.

"Ah… yeah…” Snib grunts out between panting breaths, his voice low and rough.

His words send a chill down my spine, each one punctuating the utter debasement of my beautiful wife – a woman who only ever deserved tenderness and respect.

The squelching noises increase in tempo – wetter and louder – each new note laced with obscene pleasure that I can't help but imagine. Elara's elegant red lips stretched wide around that green monstrosity… her cheeks hollowed out as she sucks him off like a common whore.

But she isn’t just any whore – she is my wife.

And he isn't just any customer – he is my Master.

“Swallow it all down… ye little married slut…” The words tumble out from Snib's mouth in cruel whispers, his grating laughter filling the room with its mockery.

Elara’s response comes in muffled whimpers beneath the table – choked and breathless; desperate sounds that send fresh waves of heat coursing through me despite everything else going on.

Each slurp and gulp punctuates the obscenity of our situation - Elara servicing that horrid creature while I sit helpless mere feet away from her.

Suddenly Snib’s laughter dies into a prolonged grunt - deep and primal - as his body tenses across from me. His face contorts in ecstasy and I know without seeing that he’s releasing inside Elara’s mouth.

The sounds that follow are obscene - wet, squelching noises that make my stomach churn with revulsion. I can almost hear the thick gobs of cum splattering against the back of Elara's throat, each one heavy with his putrid seed.

Her muffled whimpers reach my ears, growing in intensity as she struggles to keep up with the torrent being forced down her throat. Her sounds are desperate, choked... as if she's barely managing to swallow it all down.

The thought sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through me - pooling heavily between my trembling thighs. My fingers move faster now, rubbing circles around my engorged clit while my other hand continues to toy with the sensitive nipple hidden beneath my dress.

I can't stop touching myself... can't stop imagining...

Suddenly, I realize that the squelching sound isn't just coming from beneath the table anymore... it's coming from between my own thighs too.

A blush spreads across my cheeks at the realization - humiliation and arousal mixing in a potent cocktail that leaves me dizzy with desire. My fingers move faster now, pressing harder against the sensitive nub hidden beneath the soft lace.

My body is betraying me again - responding eagerly to each touch while I sit here and watch Snib feed his filthy seed to Elara... making her swallow it all down...

The thought sends a shiver down my spine but does nothing to dampen the arousal coursing through me. Instead, it only adds fuel to the fire raging within me... pushing me closer and closer to the edge...

Snib’s smirk widens then – an obscene gesture that sends shivers of revulsion skittering down my spine – before he finally pulls away from under the table; leaving only the faint scent of musk and cum behind.

Lost in my own arousal and the pheromone-addled haze, I can't stop myself from plunging my fingers deeper inside my wet, quivering cunt. The loud, wet squelching noises seem to echo throughout the room as my hips buck and arch, each movement causing my massive tits to jiggle obscenely within the confines of my dress.

Elara slowly emerges from under the table, standing with a look of exhausted satisfaction on her face. Her hair is wildly messed up, a stray goblin pube clinging to her flushed cheek. Strands of off-white goblin cum dangle from her chin, pooling in little stains that mar the once-pristine fabric of her dress.

The sight of her total debasement pushes me over the edge. A scream tears its way from my throat as an orgasm unlike anything I've ever experienced before rips through me. My eyes cross in pleasure and my mind seems to melt even further away, leaving me powerless against the all-consuming waves crashing over me.

My entire body convulses with each powerful eruption - every shudder making my jiggling breasts bounce and sway beneath their cotton prison. My pussy clenches around my fingers as it squirts uncontrollably, warm liquid pooling beneath me in a humiliating puddle.

Elara's gaze snaps to mine, shock and disgust evident in her sapphire eyes. "You look so pathetic," she snarls coldly as she surveys my trembling form sprawled across the table - wide hips still twitching occasionally in aftershocks of orgasm - "So soft and feminine when you cum; Aldric is truly gone."

A cruel smirk crosses her lips then before she continues – voice matter-of-fact despite anger simmering just beneath the surface – "Whereas Snib... he's manly. So much... so delicious. I tasted it."

The words slam into me like a physical blow; pain and humiliation warring for dominance as the realization of what she's saying sinks in.

Snib snorts, amused by the scene laid out before him. "Come on, girls," he drawls, eyes glinting with cruel intent and desire. "Let's settle this upstairs, shall we? Why don't ye give me a bath?"