Into The Lair of the Great Goblin (Closed for Otto26 and AmbrosiaCaress)

[Otto26]

Flayer nodded his understanding of Scar's time limits. "If it will take longer than that then we'll find our own way back. Lenya is good at dealing with humans."

"I have to know where you found her," Book said. "I want my own."

Flayer inclined his head slightly, considering before answering. "She walked into the lair seeking capture," he replied.

Book grunted in frustration. "We see that here, sometimes. Women who think they want to be fuckmeat walk in hoping to be kidnapped and ravished for a little while. Not allowed, of course. We tell them to go to the lair. Some do. But they just want to be tied in the lair and used like fuckmeat. Lenya is... different."

Flayer noted the way Book talked about Lenya as if her presence didn't matter. It was an apparent change from the way he'd treated her earlier. Except that it wasn't. He recognized she was more than fuckmeat, he thought her thoughts were worth hearing, but she was owned by Flayer. Owned. And Book wanted to own something, someone, like her. Flayer liked that he wasn't angling to take Lenya.

"She wanted to be captured by goblins and sold north. To make her way to the lair of Great Pike, as fuckmeat, and kill him," Flayer added.

Book stared. Big Scar laughed. "That's crazy!" the human said in a tone that was equal parts humor at her folly and admiration of her boldness.

"It worked," Flayer said.

Big Scar looked at Book, who nodded. The human looked impressed.

"The rest you know," he told Book. For Big Scar he added "When she escaped from Great Pike I took her. And marked her as mine."

"Are you still sure you want fuckmeat like Lenya?" Big Scar asked Book in that just slightly too slow tone of voice.

Book nodded. "But I see that it is going to be difficult. Worth it, though," he declared.

'Probably not possible,' Flayer thought to himself. Then he thought of Stab-Gut and had to admit the slim possibility; maybe Book could find his own Lenya. That was his problem, though; Flayer had his. His hand reached down to stroke across her bare back.

"We'll leave a dawn, then?" he asked.

Scar nodded. "Take the rest of the day and night to rest. Your armor will be later and I'll take care of the rest."

"Come up to the common room, Flayer. We'll drink a little and let the humans see and be near us."

Flayer nodded. He was getting hungry for Lenya again but they could always come back down to the nest, or not, as he preferred.

"Bring the food, Lenya," he casually ordered. "We'll go upstairs."

 

[RainingHeat]

The conversation surrounding her, and about her, was interesting, to say the least. It had not occurred to her that she was, for all intents and purposes, a killer. It had not occurred to her that she could be, or would be, considered dangerous. But in reality, she was. She would kill for Flayer and for Runt. Let alone kill for herself. It was not that she wanted to kill, of course not, but she would and she.. well.. could.

Did they, meaning Book and Big Scar, worry about control of her? She wondered that herself. Why did she obey Flayer the way she did? It was not out of fear. She saw so many of the slaves obey out of sheer fear. She did not fear Flayer. Could he hurt or kill her? Yes, but not without her fighting for her life. But she knew that would never happen. She trusted that would never happen. She trusted Flayer and Runt. She obeyed out of trust, and respect.

Did Book and Big Scar even realize that?

"Are you still sure you want fuckmeat like Lenya?" Big Scar asked Book in that just slightly too slow tone of voice.

Book nodded. "But I see that it is going to be difficult. Worth it, though," he declared.

Lenya's eyes moved from one to the other. He, Book, wanted a girl like her. Like Safi. So many Goblins wanted a Safi for themselves. Lenya had heard the stories of Goblins attempting to find one, find a Safi, intelligent, fearless, and completely and utterly loyal. Lenya always knew she herself was intelligent, not sure about fearless, but she had always been one to do what needed to be done, like her mother had been. And loyal, she never had anyone to be loyal to, other than herself, until now. Lenya had heard the stories of Goblins searching for a "Safi", only to be disappointed and end up slaughtering the girl they had found. It had been ugly.

It had been Dart himself, along with Safi, that had set most Goblins, at least the ones in his lair, and seeking to be in his lair, straight. That hunting for a "Safi" was not going to work and killing the ones that did not measure up would not be tolerated.

Lenya hoped that would not happen again with Book, searching for a girl like her, like Safi...

"We'll leave a dawn, then?" Flayer asked.

Scar nodded. "Take the rest of the day and night to rest. Your armor will be here later and I'll take care of the rest. Come up to the common room, Flayer. We'll drink a little and let the humans see and be near us."

Flayer nodded. He was getting hungry for Lenya again but they could always come back down to the nest, or not, as he preferred.

"Bring the food, Lenya," he casually ordered. "We'll go upstairs."

She did not have to answer. She did not even have to acknowledge. He knew she would do as he ... requested.

They left while she gathered the food onto the tray. The ale/mead whatever that stuff was that Goblins so enjoyed, was gone. She would get more upstairs. As she made her way to the upstairs tavern, she thought about the conversation again. Flayer had been so casual about stating how he took her and marked her. After she had escaped from Great-Pike's lair, after she had killed him. What were Book and Scar thinking? Did they see her as dangerous? Was she????? She could not stop thinking about that.. and to be honest... she liked the idea of being considered dangerous. It bolstered her mystique. It bolstered Flayer's reputation as well...

It was a question she was still pondering when she stepped into the Tavern. Book, Scar and Flayer were at a large table near the bar. Already a crowd of people, human and a couple of traveling Goblins, had gathered. It seemed that Flayer was a bit of a celebrity now, after her dance, her use, and her obedience had been put on display. And.. the crowd parted for her, allowing her to bring the tray to the table, and signal Michah for more ale or whatever that drink was. All Lenya knew was she didn't like the taste of it.

There were a couple of humans and one Goblin with girls of their own. And all 3 were asking Flayer about Lenya. How to train their own to be like her. The girls with the humans were alert, but obviously scared, and the one with the Goblin was typical, not as beaten down as many Lenya had seen, but she would not lift her eyes, and was trembling slightly. She did not bare as many marks, again, as others. But she was "Fuckmeat", that was obvious.

When the pitcher of drink arrived, Lenya made sure to fill Flayer's stein first, before filling Book's and then Scar's. Scar reached out and ran a fingertip along her cheek and muttered a quiet thank you as she did. Lenya did not pull away, but the touch made her shiver slightly. There was something dangerous about him. But she did not try to pry into his mind again. She had seen enough before, she was not sure she wanted to see more.

Tonya, who had brought the pitcher, turned to leave when Lenya whispered "water please" to her. She did not want to drink what they were drinking. As she requested the water from Tonya, her eyes looked to Flayer, seeking permission. His nod was nearly imperceptable but she saw it, and so did Tonya, who returned a few moments later with the water.

Book smiled. "She even seeks permission to drink water... again Sir Flayer, I am impressed... she does trust you" .....

 

[Otto26]

The crowd made Flayer nervous; taking him back to early memories of crowded lairs where every goblin was ready to prey on the weak. He wasn't weak now, but the behaviors of the humans were unpredictable. They casually tread on social norms that prevented goblins from tearing at each other's throats and his senses were flooding him with potential danger signals and he had to think about every response and if there was a real threat he might not see it or respond to it in time. He liked Book, they'd shared Lenya, but he still didn't have an in-the-bones trust in him. Big Scar was interesting and seemed earnest, but he was still human, or human-shaped. The trust was weak. Runt would be watching but, like Flayer, he would find the situation noisy and chaotic. He trusted Lenya, of course. Completely. But she was kneeling next to him and that limited her vision. He would find an excuse to get her up on the table again. Dancing. From there she could see the room.

"...she does trust you," the words stopped and his brain registered that it was time from him to respond.

"I can't think why," he replied. "I've raped and mutilated and enslaved her. But she does. And I her." He took a look at the humans with their slaves and gestured at them. "You want a Lenya for your own? Leave your slave unrestrained with a knife and go to sleep. If you wake up, you have a Lenya, or something similar."

"I'd never wake," one of the humans responded. "She'd cut my throat and leg it."

"Good," Flayer said.

"Good?" the man repeated.

"Lenya's a killer," Flayer said. "Up on the table, Lenya," he commanded. "Kneel in front of me." Not dancing, but it got her up higher. He gestured to the knife and took a drink. "That's not for show. That's Lenya's blade, not mine."

"And how do you keep her from killing you?" the human asked. Around him the others seemed to lean in.

Flayer shrugged. "I don't know." He took another drink and his free hand stroked up Lenya's thigh to her hip, curling around it beneath the green silk. "Ask her."

"You don't ask fuckmeat," the goblin growled, "you tell."

Flayer shrugged again. "Then all you get is fuckmeat. You don't get a Lenya." He knew the answer. Which wasn't to say that he understood the answer. But he'd looked into Lenya's eyes and taken her so many times that he knew she desired his desire. She wanted to be utterly taken by him and be consumed by his desire for her. He didn't know why. One day he would; he'd take even that from her and her soul would be his.

"Why don't you kill me, Lenya?" he asked, his hand slid down her ass and pulled back down the length of her thigh to her knee.

 

[RainingHeat]

She heard every word. She understood every inflection in the voices of the humans and the goblin that currently stood around them. She was not typical. She was not the norm. She was not what was expected. She was different. And, she knew, if any of them had found her, had enslaved her, they most likely would have beaten the "different" out of her. They stated they wanted a "Lenya"... But they had no real idea who or what she was.

They would never understand that she "CHOSE" to serve Flayer now. They would never understand....

"You want a Lenya for your own? Leave your slave unrestrained with a knife and go to sleep. If you wake up, you have a Lenya, or something similar."

"I'd never wake," one of the humans responded. "She'd cut my throat and leg it."

"Lenya's a killer," Flayer said. "Up on the table, Lenya," he commanded. "Kneel in front of me." Not dancing, but it got her up higher. He gestured to the knife and took a drink. "That's not for show. That's Lenya's blade, not mine."

She was on the table before he even finished the words, upon her knees before him. In fact, she had NOT liked kneeling on the floor. Not because she was kneeling, but because it made her, and Flayer, vulnerable. She could not see what was going on. She trusted Flayer, but could sense his unease at being so closely surrounded. His unease translated to her. There were alot of people, goblins, in the tavern. More than before. Word had gotten around. Many wanted to see, her. She was... different...

When he mentioned her blade, she absentmindedly reached down and let her fingertips dance along the handle. "A gift" was all she said, indicating that indeed the dagger was hers and always had been.

"And how do you keep her from killing you?" the human asked. Around him the others seemed to lean in.

Flayer shrugged. "I don't know." He took another drink and his free hand stroked up Lenya's thigh to her hip, curling around it beneath the green silk. "Ask her."

"You don't ask fuckmeat," the goblin growled, "you tell."

"And that's WHY you will never have what Master Flayer has" Lenya snapped back. She did not even turn to look at the growling Goblin. She kept her eyes fixed on Flayer, but her voice was heard loud and clear...

He met her gaze, even as he spoke...

"Why don't you kill me, Lenya?"

"Because you treat me honestly, you have never once lied to me, you have never once abandoned me...." she let that trail off for a moment. Many may have thought he had abandoned her at Great-Pike's... But he had not, not really. He had stayed close. He had not known of her plan, but he had stayed close. She had never found out exactly why, or what HIS plan may have been, and that sparked that question in her head. She would have to ask him... She was now curious as to why he had risked staying so close to the lair. Was it to save her? Steal her? Lenya knew he wanted her, she could feel that every time he had taken her during the trip. He wanted her. He... needed ... her....

"You see me as more than just fuckmeat, because you understand that I am more than just fuckmeat"....

Lenya stole a glance at the other girls, slaves, that were close by. She had no idea who they were, what kind of people they were, or had been, or the circumstances of their enslavement. Everyone was different. But she did see the bit of confusion in the eyes of the humans and goblin at her words...

"Just like there are better fighters, warriors than others. Just like there are better hunters, better builders, better leaders, than others. There are better slaves than others. I can not speak for other slaves, for other females. I can only speak for myself. Flayer saw that I was not, AM not, the same as the other slave girls. He saw that the first time he took me. Yes, he raped me. Yes, he enslaved me.... " she lay her hand on her dagger. "But if I did not trust him, if I did not want... WANT... to give to him what he wished, I could easily take this dagger to my own throat and end it. He asked why I do not kill him... for the very same reason he does not kill me. I trust him. He trusts me. And.. I need that trust. I need... Flayer..."

Her heart was wildly beating in her chest, her skin flushed just slightly. Flayer's hand resting at her knee could surely feel her slight trembling. She had never had to put into words anything like this. But it was all true. After being with Flayer, and then with Great-Pike, and now back with Flayer.. it was all true...

"And I will kill any who try and take me from him".... The words hung there. She was making it perfectly clear, she would not be taken from Flayer. Not by Book. Not by Scar.. Not even by Great-Dart... it was that simple...

Everyone within earshot was quiet. And Lenya locked her eyes within Flayer's once again...

 

[Otto26]

One corner of Flayer's mouth drew back slightly into a faint, wry smile as he looked deep into Lenya's eyes. 'Let them chew on that,' he thought. His hand pushed on Lenya's trembling knee, widening the gap between her thighs. Her sweet cunt was there, hidden in the shadow of the green silk at the periphery of his vision.

"There you go," he said to those listening. "Find the fuckmeat that will kill to be raped by you."

The goblin growled, joining with the general noise of dissatisfaction that rose from the watchers.

"That's no answer," one of the humans protested.

"Isn't it?" Flayer replied. He imagined he could smell Lenya's scent, a faint taste that teased him. He'd like to taste her. "Alright. What do you want from your fuckmeat? From your Lenya?"

"Unquestioning obedience," the human replied.

"Her willing cunt," the goblin snapped.

"Devoted and intelligent service," Book stated.

"Moans," Big Scar said slowly.

Flayer broke his gaze away from Lenya's soul and looked at Big Scar curiously, seeing a new aspect of the man. "Moans," he echoed. "I like that answer. I want to drown my Lenya in pleasure, to hear nothing but her helpless mewling, moaning cries, see nothing but her squirming, writhing body, taste nothing but her flesh and sweat and cunt, and know that I have taken everything she has offered and more."

The space around the table was quiet.

"This talk is making me hungrier, Lenya. Present your cunt to me," he ordered.

When the slave had shifted, lifting her naked sex towards him, he leaned forward, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs to cup her ass, squeezing hard not because he intended to but because he knew no other way to hold her in this moment. He leaned forward to run his tongue up the length of her, slowly, tip pushing between her folds. He lifted his head and his ravenous grin stretched from ear to ear. The growl of satisfaction rumbled in his belly. "Yes," he breathed and lowered his mouth to her again. He could smell and taste her now, better than any memory or dream. He sought her little nub, wanting to hear her breathing quicken, to hear her moan. He knew his prey, his goal, and he would have it. Would have her. He growled against her. Oh, yes, he would have her.

 

[RainingHeat]

"Alright. What do you want from your fuckmeat? From your Lenya?"

"Unquestioning obedience," the human replied.

"Her willing cunt," the goblin snapped.

"Devoted and intelligent service," Book stated.

"Moans," Big Scar said slowly.

She felt Flayer ease her back as the words floated in her mind. They did not understand. They would never understand. She let herself lay back on the table, out of the kneel, now her legs were splayed open before the Goblin, her pussy wet, pinkened, glistening, begging... Lenya lifted her hips to him, just as Flayer slid his hands beneath her ass to grasp her.

Her scent, sweet, moist, began to flutter around her. Her gleaming eyes closing, but not before she whispered..."Is this not unquestioning obedience, a willing cunt, devoted and intelligent submission, and... moans..." the last trailed off into exactly that, a long, deep, seductive moan that gripped her and rippled past her quivering lips. His tongue dove within, seeking to taste her. Her sweetness flowed, coating his lips, his tongue, feeding him. Her clit pulsed with every beat of her heart, and she no longer could speak. She lay trembling, quivering, on that table. The only sounds were her harsh, quick breathing and the long, purring moans that eminated from the very depths of her.

She showed them what she gave Flayer. Her submission. It was as simple as that. She chose to submit... and this was the ultimate submission.. The begging of her body as she rocked her hips up to his mouth. She lay bared before him, her back arching, eyes closed. Every sensation was visible as her body quaked, her skin flush, the heat surrounding her, the scent hanging in the air, the sounds seeming to drown out all others. She raked her nails into the wood of the table, her entire form was on fire. Her sex flowed with the sweetness that Flayer continued to draw from her... The feel of his tongue, the softness, the length, as he drank of her, lapping, enticing more of her cries, the intensity deepening..

She no longer cared what the others thought, wanted, or understood. She only cared about what Flayer was doing to her, the cascading pleasure that now rolled through her every nerve ending with every swipe of his long, wet tongue. She was weakened before him, she gave herself to him, her body, her sex, her passion, her want, her need, she offered all to him....

"please..... please..." she managed to beg... the climax had climbed to a crescendo, and was ready to explode. She could feel her body, her sex, her clit, pulsing, tighten, waiting to release that flood of all encompassing pleasure that would drown her... if only he would allow her.... "pppplease...... MMMMaster"......

 

[Otto26]

Flayer slowed his pace as Lenya's pleas filled his ears. His hungry smile grew malicious and he teased her, wondering how long he could keep her in this state without crashing her into her own dehnar. His lips kissed, sucked, pulled. His tongue wandered between away, exploring folds and lapping at her honey. His fingers squeezed her flesh hard, lifting her ass, dimpling the flesh, marking it. She should always be here, on the precipice of orgasm, gasping and writhing and wet and hot and delicious and begging. This was better than the scream of prey, better than hot blood, better than snarling down at a dying foe. This was what he lived and schemed and killed for.

He savored her, tortured her, for several minutes and then kissed her clit. A gentle kiss, at first. But the brush of his lips became a sucking. And then his tongue pressed against her, then dragged slowly, so slowly, across her and she inhaled with a high-pitched squealing and shook.

He rode her into her orgasm and all the way through it, inexpertly drawing her back towards her peak whenever she began to subside. Her fingers raked the tabletop, clawing and clenching and never quite daring to push him away. He tortured her some more, growling into her, wondering if he was skilled enough to make her lose consciousness. Probably not. Yet.

Several more minutes passed before he pulled back, long tongue licking his lips and chin and cheeks. He took a drink and admired Lenya. Her flushed panting body lay upon the table, her legs spread to display her splayed, wet petals to him. She was more beautiful than words could express and he felt... content. His cock hungered for her but, then, it always did. He saw no need to rush. He was still with Great Dart's lair so that he didn't need to rush. He had a lifetime ahead of him.

"Good girl, Lenya," he stated, his claws brushing lightly up her thigh. "Rest a minute, then dance for me. Slowly," he clarified. "I just want to see you move." 'And you can keep an eye on the room,' he didn't add. He didn't need to.

"I envy you," Book stated.

Flayer said nothing, didn't react, but, inwardly, he preened.

"I think I'll have to start with smart," Book said. "I'll check the fuckmeat at the lair when I'm able. To find the hidden gem."

Flayer shrugged noncommittally. He wished Book good fortune in his search. "Might be a long search," he opined.

Book grinned back at him. "But fun. And worth it."

Flayer took a kiss from Lenya as she rose, tongue pressed against hers, and then settled back to relax. With the taste of her fresh in his mouth, and the memory of her helpless body laying before him, and she and Runt watching the room he finally felt a little at ease.

"What should Book look for Lenya?" he asked. The few eyes that weren't already glued to her quickly focused on her.

 

[RainingHeat]

Out of the ones watching, it was the other Goblin's eyes at that table, that were the widest. He had never seen his slave, his fuckmeat, react even close to what he was witnessing. He had made her scream out, yes, but not like that, and he had NEVER heard her beg when he was fucking her. Never. His heart was pounding, his own skin tingling even as he looked down at his fuckmeat. How could he get her to do that????

Lenya trembled, shook, moaned, cried, squealed, begged, as Flayer took her to that very edge, when she thought she would careen over, when she felt her climax about to crash through her shaking body, and then he pulled her back, denying her that sweet release that her body and her soul, craved.. Until he deemed it was time. It felt like forever, felt like he kept her wanting, needing, pleading on that table forever, until he allowed her to dive into the pleasure she so desperately hungered for.

When the orgasm gripped her, she screamed, howling to the rafters as her body arched, thrashed, her sex pulsed, grasping at his plunging tongue as he sought to drink her passion from the depths of her. He kept her cumming, kept her in the throes of her heat, until he finally pulled back, allowing her to ride the waves that tore through her until she lay, still quivering, before him, helpless, skin flush, covered in a sheen of sweat, the silken shift she wore clung wetly to every curve... her gasping the only sound she could make.

"Good girl, Lenya," Flayer stated, his claws brushing lightly up her thigh. "Rest a minute, then dance for me. Slowly," he clarified. "I just want to see you move."

She lay there, catching her breath as her body finally slid down from her climax, her breathing slowing, her eyes focusing once again. It was several minutes before she could move once more, and she felt all the eyes on her as she did so. Both Master and slave eyes...

"She dances too?" came the question from Scar, his own face a bit flush at the display he had just seen.

His answer came as Lenya moved, first offering a sweet kiss to Flayer, her tongue gliding along his as he claimed her lips, then she rising to her feet on the table. In her mind, she let the music begin to play. A song her mother had hummed to her when she was little. A lullaby that she always would remember...

Her body moved, slowly this time, nothing more than a soft swaying of hips, she allowing her own fingertips to caress along her still damp curves, feeling the gentle touch of the silk, and the smoothness of her own skin. Her eyes, now in sharp focus, scanned the room, noting several humans, and even a couple of elves, which she found surprising. But then again there were always adventurers, human, elven, goblin, dwarf, and yes, she saw a dwarf as well..

She slowly spun, stepping forward and arching back to the music playing in her mind, her hips rocking with that slow melody that only she could hear, beckoning to be touched, taken, made to cry out again and again... A seductive swirl, allowing the silk to kiss her skin, fondle her curves, her long golden hair, damp from her climax on the table, still slithered around her, pale sunlit tendrils that spilled down her shoulders and back...

She could hear the conversation, heard Book's voice and then Flayer's....

"What should Book look for Lenya?"

The few eyes that weren't already glued to her quickly focused on her.

She turned her attention to Book... "Intelligence. The ability to think for oneself, and the desire to gift her submission"......

She paused, now before where Book sat, lowering to her knees, and focusing her eyes on his.. "if you see fear, she is not what you want"... and with that she arched back, lay back, rolled and was back on her feet again.. Another scan of the room, and she, back to her knees again, slithered, crawled, to Flayer...

"Several Humans, a couple of other Goblins, Dwarf, and a couple of Elves.... I suspect the Elves are checking this place for any potential threats..." her lips were lain to his ear, her voice a whisper so only he could hear... "no drawn weapons, but all eyes are on this table..."

 

[Otto26]

Flayer cupped and gently squeezed a hanging breast through the silk as Lenya whispered in his ear, licking her neck, her cheek, and her lips as she drew back and rose to her feet, slowly writhing on the table. Most of the eyes in the room were on her.

"Elves?" he quietly asked Book.

The goblin shook himself free of the Lenya-induced trance and shifted his gaze to Flayer. "Not a problem," he said. "Not generally. This place is convenient for adventurers so we see a lot of outcasts. If they leave the old feuds outside and behave, we're tolerant."

Flayer took a sip of his drink. "Lenya thinks the elves... merit extra watching," he finished. If she thought they were noteworthy then he'd take note.

Book chuckled, not because he thought anything Flayer had said was funny, but because it wouldn't tell any observers what he was actually thinking. "Scar, would you please keep an eye on our fae visitors?"

"Yes, lair-brother," the human answered and moved away from the table, away from the elves.

'Please' 'Yes, lair-brother', Flayer reflected. Great Dart's lair had been strangely cooperative, even amongst the new meat. This little enclave was... convivial. If goblins could trust each other and work together without constant jostling... Maybe Great Dart's future would work.

A few tables over a human pushed a female slave up onto their table and commanded her to dance. Not one of the lair fuckmeat, their own slave. The woman was naked but for a collar and looked lost and terrified. She looked over at Lenya. Flayer saw Lenya slow her motions, exaggerating them slightly. The slave tried to copy her as the humans laughed and coarsely cheered her on.

One of the elven fuckmeat came over and replaced their pitcher with a new one. She also left a second pitcher with, Flayer sniffed, water. The dark-haired human, the one that had cleaned Lenya, came over and knelt next to Book, submitting to his fondles as he whispered in her ear. She shook her ass at Book as she walked away from him and he laughed.

"I've told them to take your armor to the nest when it arrives. Scar is keeping an eye on the fae. Micah will do so as well. Do you have reason to expect any trouble with them?" he asked.

Flayer shook his head. On the table, Lenya had moved back to her own pace; teaching time was apparently finished. "Not me. Unless they have a problem with goblins in general." Which was probable rather than simply possible. "Maybe Lenya. She came from the territory of elfmeat. She'd have said if she knew them, though. Will they have a problem with the fuckmeat?"

"Because they're elves carrying half-goblin whelps?" Book asked. "They'd better not," he growled.

It wasn't a simple possessiveness, Flayer saw. Book wasn't expressing the opinion that the elves had best not trifle with goblin property. No, he'd slid the fuckmeat into a new category, somewhere between fuckmeat and mothers. Was it because his mother had been fuckmeat or was it because he considered the whelps goblins to be protected or was it because of the future he saw?

"How do you usually keep control when the rest are gone?" he asked Book.

"Momentum," Book replied. "Smash a few skulls while everyone is here and people remember and behave, even when the others are out on patrol."

Flayer grunted and looked back at Lenya. She seemed to be enjoying her slow dance, losing herself in it. When she felt his eyes on her she smiled at him and her motions seemed to take on a sexier aspect, taunting and teasing and daring. He chuckled and his hands flexed, longing to seize her and drag her into his arms. He was, he appreciated, not the only one who could torture. It made him laugh.

 

[RainingHeat]

Lenya took notice that another girl had been placed on a table top and expected to dance. She looked completely terrified. While most could dance alittle, Lenya knew that what she did took more than just twirling about. Lenya had always loved music, whether it was played by instruments, or hummed or sung by her mother, or simply hummed to herself. Music was what allowed her to move the way she did, she losing herself in the soft melody, or the heavy drumbeats. It had always come natural to her.

The girl tried to copy her movements, but that was not how it was done and only served to make her look even more awkward. Lenya felt bad for the girl. But it also showed her that so many.... so very many.... did not understand at all her or Flayer or their connection. She wondered how many even bothered to look into the eyes of their girls. How many thought owning the "body" was all there was to it. They were so wrong.....

She let that thought trail off as she again moved upon the table. This time, her motions, her fluid undulations, were for Flayer only. Her entire attention focused on him, even as he spoke to the others.

When his attention turned back to her, a succulent, seductive smile curled her moistened lips. She lowered to her knees once more on that table, and slowly crawled, stalking like a golden lioness, toward Flayer... she was even growling low in the back of her throat as she moved, hips swaying, her smooth skin glistening with heat... she crawled to him, she crawled for him...

She crawled right off the table and onto his lap. She could see, and now feel, his arousal. And as she settled upon him, facing him, the dripping wet lips of her pussy caressed the length of him, his cock easily free'd of the skin he had been wearing, droplets of her slick wetness rolled down his shaft to tickle his balls, as she ever so passionately gripped his cock head within the grasp of her pussy and took him inside, his slick cock impaling her until she was fully down on his lap and his throbbing length was buried deeply in the heat of her body. Lenya moaned low, the velveteen walls of her sex now encasing him in the searing embrace of her... He could feel every beat of her heart, every slight spasm of muscle around him as she rolled her hips slightly, and lifted, only to slide back down again, the lips of her sex claiming his cock once more.

It was obvious to those still watching what was going on, and they were as fascinated as when she had been dancing. For Lenya, all she saw, and felt, was Flayer, his claws raking up and down her back, raking along her hips as he held her, his own body rocking upwards, seeking to drive his cock deeper into the depths of her. Lenya laid her hands to his shoulders, fingers lightly digging in as she danced on his lap, swaying, rolling her hips, rocking her body, undulating, up and down upon the thick, long shaft that pushed up and into her over and over again. The sounds of her sharp breathing, her purring moans, her vibrating cries mingled with Flayer's own deep groans and grunts, along with the wet song of sex that surrounded them each time she and he moved, as his cock penetrated deeper and deeper inside her....

 

[Otto26]

His hands raked up her flanks and caught her hair as her head leaned back and he pulled, trapping her. Well, trapping her after a fashion. Her body writhed upon him, her hips rolling, her hands tight on his shoulders. He leaned back slightly, the better to see her, and let his senses drown in her. The silk clung to her body like a second skin or a jealous lover. Where he could see her flesh it glowed, vibrant and sweat damp. Her hungry moans rang in his ears and the wet sound of their joined flesh lurked at the edge of hearing, teasing. He could smell her. Or could he? Was it the lingering taste of her sweet cunt that made his head swim? A memory? Or was this fresh? Was this the smell of her honey that coated his cock and balls and thighs?

He bit at a breast beneath the silk, sucking it into his hungry mouth, fabric and all, cursing the silk. He would rip it from her body and whip her until she begged his forgiveness for concealing her flesh from him!! She would stand outside the door to the enclave and beg passersby to look at her!! She would scream in terror at the thought of her flesh being covered by anything but his body!! The thoughts bounced through the Lenya haze that filled his mind and he leaned back, growling, his desire and frustration plainly writ on his face. He would give her an opportunity to avoid her doom. If she pleased him sufficiently. He released her hair and leaned back slightly, again. Watching her dance on the knife edge of his desire and rage, oblivious to anything except Lenya.

 

[RainingHeat]

She felt his fangs, as he bit into her tender breast, suckling in a swollen nipple beneath the silken sheathe. She heard his low growl, and felt it deepen. When she peered into his eyes, she could see that flicker of frustration. As his cock thrust up and into her, she could see and feel his body quiver, again in frustration, and in the throes of his own desire. And along with the gleam, that fire in his eyes, she saw the look on his face. One she had not seen in a long time, if ever really.

Lenya felt a pang of fear, cold, sharp, shiver through her. Had she done something wrong? Had she overstepped her bounds? Had she said something, expressed something in her eyes, or in motions, that aggravated Flayer? She thought she knew him pretty well. But maybe not well enough...

Her mind wildly scrambled to determine what may be causing that growl, that flicker of fire in his gaze... as she continued to move upon him, her body undulating, dancing, in rhythm, hips rolling, back arching, her pussy grasping, pulsing around his cock as she rode him, her slick juices flowing over his shaft, his balls, soaking him in a heated, almost scalding wetness...

Many eyes watched, enthralled. Sex in the Tavern was common, for the most part. Book, Micah, both had fucked in the Tavern, as had others. Humans did not tend to indulge as often as the Goblins or Half Breeds did, but every once in a while, one would get caught up in the moment and participate. So what was happening with Flayer and his slave was not unusual. What was unusual was the attention it garnered. Both Flayer, Runt and his girl Lenya attracted alot of attention...

Book and Scar, along with Micah and Tonya, all watched, their attention completely focused on what was happening at that table. Book and Scar and Micah could not deny the reaction they were feeling, as were many of the males that were watching. But for the moment, they were too focused on Flayer and Lenya to even think to indulge with their own girls, or another slave. All 3 wanted Lenya at that moment, but none dared even speak. It was clear, both Flayer and Lenya were consumed with what they were doing and to interrupt would... well... not be well received.

Another set of eyes, 3 sets actually, were also watching intently.

Iston, Beleg, and Paldo were 3 Elves, sent from the largest of the Elven cities, Avallone, were also watching. It took all they had in them to hide the disgust at what they were seeing. If humans did not tend to fuck in public, Elves were even less likely. For them, the act of mating was done in private, it was not put on display.

They knew this was not the time or the place to protest, even if the slave being "raped" in their eyes, was Elven. Or half Elven, Paldo reminded them. It made it a bit easier to swallow, given that Lenya was not full blood Elf. But it was not lost on them that the other girls there, heavy with child, and were full Elven, were most likely raped exactly the same way. This was what they were sent to determine. What was going on? Were the females being bred on purpose. The Elves, as well as Humans and Goblins, knew that there were herbs, never mind magic, that would prevent breeding. Why was that not being used? What were the Goblins doing? What was their plan? Was there a plan?

But all that was, for the moment, forgotten as they watched the display going on right in front of them.

Lenya, her moans still ringing out, as she slid wetly up and down upon Flayer's thick cock, realized, as his claws raked into the silk that covered her, that it was exactly that, the silk, that had suddenly, instead of being pleasing to him, was aggravating, and in fact, almost enraging him, as the heated desire roared through him. Fuckmeat, female slaves in the Goblin world were never clothed. Even Safi remained naked, and was naked when Lenya saw her at the lair. Flayer had indulged her, had given in to her plea for even the skimpiest of cover... now he was regretting it.

He snapped his jaws, his fangs, showing that frustration as she slowed her movements, but she did so for only a moment, she herself nearly tearing the silken shift from her body, baring her flushed, moist, glistening skin to him, and everyone else, completely. Her cheeks flushed, a bit in embarrassment, but that passed quickly. He and Book had used her on this table with others watching. Sure, the Tavern was more crowded at this moment, but this was the life she lead now. This was.. what she was. Enslaved to Flayer. He wanted her naked, she would be naked for him. If he allowed her any coverings, any clothing, she would be thankful.

Arching her back, her bared breasts, nipples deep dusky pink and very swollen were offered again to his mouth and with a hungry growl, he devoured, first one, then the other, his mouth and fangs and tongue claiming each, pulling, suckling, feeling the metal of the peircing, hearing her groans of both pleasure and a bit of pain, as her nipples were still quite tender and he was sucking hard and deep on each one... she actually crying out when his fangs bit down, the sound vibrating to his ears...

Her body bucked now, the pace having quickened, he thrusting harder up and into her, seeming to not be able to get deep enough.. With a fierce growling, a near howl, Flayer lifted her slight form off his cock, and nearly threw her onto the table, he was on top of her before she could even react, her legs splayed wide open, his cock shoved deeply back into the grasp of her pussy, this time able to plunge even deeper inside her. Lenya screamed out, her body accepting his length, her legs lifting to wrap around his wildly pumping hips. The entire table shook, her body quaking, trembling, her breath driven from her by each slamming thrust.. his fangs grabbing her throat, as his body rocked into hers...

Her orgasm came crashing over her, she could not even beg for release, the sensation was too intense and the motions too fast and furious. Raking her nails into his back as she clung to him, her body violently shaking, the climax coiling around her and tightening, her pussy spasming, holding his cock deep inside her, hot wetness spilling out to coat him even more, her cries matching the pulsing, spasms of her body....

 

[Otto26]

His frustration seethed and fermented into an all-consuming, mindless rage even as she danced wantonly on his cock. Visions of how he would educate her, punish her, sleeted through his mind. Then she slowed and it felt as though the cap on the bottle was loosened, his anger beginning to boil out, his visions creeping forward to become reality. And then he was struck blind by the revelation of her body. Oh, not unseeing blind, but she was all he could see. And she offered her breasts up to him and he accepted them, took them, savored them, tortured them. Her cries, passion, pleasure, and, yes, pain, were all he could hear. They were all he ever wanted to hear.

The rage did boil over then, but as a fearful lust. He thrust up, his hands at her hips pulling down hard to slam her against him, claws piercing her skin, little trickles of blood merging with the sweat that covered her, his cock plunging.... 'NOT DEEP ENOUGH!!' he raged, and he threw her from him, onto the table, and sprang upon her, stabbing her with his cock while she bared herself to his assault, welcomed it, embraced it.

When she wordlessly screamed her submission he growled triumphantly against the flesh held between his teeth, fangs scratching her throat, and thrust, and thrust, and thrust, as his angry hunger drove him on. He pulled out of Lenya at the last minute, fighting free of the embrace of her thighs, and knelt above her, his seed pouring out onto her belly and breasts. He crawled forward and plunged his cock into her gasping mouth for a moment, fucking it for a second before withdrawing, his seed and her saliva connecting his cock to her lips.

He rose from her body then, moving slowly back to his seat, his chest still pounding.

"Stand, Lenya," he growled. "Stand and let everyone see you. No dancing. No clothing. Just Lenya. My Lenya." He drained his cup and waited for her to obey.

 

[RainingHeat]

He took her as if he were going to loose her. As if his life depended on being buried inside her body, depended on hearing her screams of pleasure, her moans of pain, her begging submission, as if his life depended on feeling her body shatter in orgasm... As if he were showing, in no uncertain terms, that even if he allowed another to use her, she belonged totally and completely to him.

These thoughts were fleeting, exploding into her mind and then being driven out with the next thrust of his cock, the next bite of his fangs along her throat, the next feel of his body against her own. Those thoughts were gone when the orgasm hit her, lighting her on fire like a bolt of shock from a storm. His own, just as deep and all encompassing, he having enough of a presence of mind to pull from her grasping pussy and coat her skin with his seed, his scent, covering her in HIM... Even feeding her his own climax by claiming her mouth and throat.. All of her... ALL OF HER belonged to him, that was what he was saying... ALL OF HER....

She lay, panting, trembling, on the table when he finally climbed off her and settled back in his seat. Book and Scar, both still sitting the closest, were even a deeper flushed red than she was, both were taking shaking breaths, both had raging hard ons, both were speechless...

All the other eyes at the table were on her, only the ones closest could really see her, moist, blush with heat, shaking, her own cum and Flayers coating her skin, her pussy...

"Stand, Lenya," he growled. "Stand and let everyone see you. No dancing. No clothing. Just Lenya. My Lenya."

If she had not been so spent, she would have moved a bit faster, but she was exhausted, her body quivering from the exertion, but she complied, without question. Slowly, she sat up, got to her knees and then to her feet on the table. Wet, naked, her trembling just the slightest motion now, her long golden blonde hair clung to her skin, veiling her in pale, almost sunlit silk, even though she was indeed, naked.

All eyes could see her now, and all eyes stared, even the 3 Elves could not deny her beauty. She was more stunning than many of their own full blooded females. And certainly more beautiful than most of the slave girls at the Tavern. There was something about her, not just a physical beauty, but something deep inside her, in her eyes, her features, that seemed to radiate from her even as she stood there. Something that Flayer saw, and sought to claim even moreso than he already did.

Lenya did not look down or away, she met the eyes that gazed upon her, that raked over her, that devoured her. She met those stares, and her own eyes gleamed, a crystal clear sparkle that only served to enhance just how desirable she was. It was as if she glowed, as she stretched, back arching slightly, taking a deep breath. She then turned those gittering eyes to Flayer, locking into his darker stare, and she smiled at him.....

 

[Otto26]

She was... stunning. Literally. The room was not silent, but the murmur of sound had nearly died and the subtle noise that clung to life were clearly all about Lenya. Her hair clung to her body, stuck there by the sweat that coated her whole body. The glaze of cum on her lips was gone, she'd licked that away as she stood. But it frosted her belly and thighs, clinging to her flesh except where droplets of it dropped to the table beneath her. Little trails of blood flowed down over her hips and ass where he'd grasped her with too much force. No, not too much, just the right amount. She had bruises on her breasts and throat. And she glowed. Her body. Her eyes. Her smile. All his. It simply wasn't possible to own her anymore than he already did, yet he craved that with a fanatical desire that even he knew crossed the border into madness.

"Mine!" he shouted. At her? At the room? At himself? It didn't matter. "The most beautiful woman in the world!" he declared. It was shouted to the room, a challenge as much as it was an assertion of fact. The murmur increased a little in response to his declaration but no one dared to challenge him in the slightest regarding this.

He wondered if she understood how beautiful she was. She might. She stretched a little for him. Smiled. Every eye watched her, soiled by his use, lit by her fire. No dancing could explain the nearly religious attention focused on her. Unkempt and well used she outshone every woman, free or slave, in the room. And he basked in her glow and the admiration and the raw desire that rained down on her.

"Refill our pitcher," he commanded her and turned his attention to Book. "That's what you're looking for," he said.

***

"She's a goblin whore," Iston said quietly.

"She doesn't appear to be pregnant," Paldo added.

"She will be soon enough," Iston replied.

"They're calling her Lenya," Beleg mused. "Saying she killed a great one in the North. Wasn't there a half-breed who boasted she'd do that?"

Iston's eyes narrowed. "Yes..." he nearly hissed. "I remember hearing about that. A 'bargain with the council'. Killing Great Pike in return for being acclaimed an elf in full standing."

"That explains why she's not pregnant," Paldo murmured.

"Yet," Iston softly snapped. He looked around the room at the assembled humans and goblins and considered. Though he hated to do it here, he nevertheless closed his eyes and focused on his center and then re-opened them. Every detail of the room was sharp to his senses; painfully sharp. He slowly looked around, the faint glow behind his pupils probably un-noticeable in the room particularly since every living eye was watching the goblin slut climb down from the table. A glowing upon her belly, a faint tracery of lines that reached into her sex, caught his attention. He blinked and the vision was gone, but he could remember it acutely, would never be able to forget it, in fact.

"There's goblin magic on her vagina," he stated.

"Have they found a way to let half-breeds reproduce?" Paldo asked in shock.

"I don't know," Iston mused. "The full-blood elves have remnants of magic upon them. But it's different. Human-flavored, to begin with."

"We should kill them all," Beleg stated. "Bar the exits and burn this place to the ground."

"We need more information," Paldo insisted. Iston nodded his agreement. After a long moment Beleg indicated his acquiescence.

"Let's talk to the elves first," Iston said. "We can offer them escape, termination of their pregnancies, a return to our homeland."

Paldo started, his surprise so deep that it actually showed for a moment.

"A lie," Beleg explained to Paldo and, at the same time, sought assurance from Iston.

Iston nodded. "It's hardly their fault they've been cursed in this way," he said. "And it's barely a lie. When we've incinerated them we'll take their ashes back with us."

Beleg looked uncomfortable with even this minute compromise. "And the half-breed?" he asked.

"I don't know if she will accompany the others back to the lair," he mused. "We'll approach her carefully if we have the chance, bind her under a spell and ask our questions and then leave her with no memory of the encounter. We can tell her we are here to rescue her and take her back to receive her acclaim."

"A lie," Beleg insisted, Paldo nodded his agreement.

"Yes," Iston agreed, wholeheartedly.

 

[RainingHeat]

The plan sounded good, at least in thought. Nine times out of Ten, the Females that were indeed captured and enslaved whether Human or Elven, were more weak minded than others. There were always the "weak ones" in the herd, right? At least that was how the 3 mercenary Elves saw it. For them to die, was nothing more than culling the weak so that the stronger survive. Every species had that dynamic. Only the strong survive. That was life. That had always been life.

There were always exceptions to that simple rule. Safi/Stab-Gut was a known exception. She was neither weak, dull witted, or weak minded. Many Elves refused to believe she was as strong and intelligent as she was. Many believed the stories to be "enhanced". But there were others that believed, that knew Safi was indeed powerful. And that she chose to be enslaved to Great-Dart. That she chose to obey him.

Was Lenya one of those? Was Lenya on the same plane as Safi?

It was Beleg who pondered this particular thought. Why? Because he, out of the 3 of them, knew Lenya. He had seen her. He had seen her with her mother, when she was younger. He was older than her by 10 seasons. But her beauty had seared itself into his memory. He dared not approach her, she was a half-blood, cursed, foul, to approach her romantically would have resulted in the same for him, outcast, seen as foul.. And, he had been there, in the background, as a personal guard to one of the Elven Shamans, the day she had struck the bargain to kill Great-Pike for her Elven heritage. He had been shocked that she would even consider such a deal, but then again, if he had been an outcast, he may have done most anything to be accepted. Within the Elven families and cities, being accepted, being known, being protected, being Elven, was life. Eternal life. Being an outcast was tandemount to being in hell... He had even entertained the thought that if she managed to pull of this feat, and kill the Great-Goblin, and return, and be... accepted... he would approach her then... maybe...

It had been fleeting thought at the time. There was no way she would be able to accomplish what so many others, soldiers, even a couple of mercenary Elves like himself, had not be able to... At least that was what they all thought. They were wrong, of course...

He did not reveal to Iston and Paldo that he knew who she, the now naked half breed slave that stood on the table, was. She did not know him. He had never even spoken to her. But seeing her, in all her naked and stunning glory, awakened that deep attraction he had always felt since the 1st time he had ever lain eyes on her...

"Mine!" Flayer shouted. At her? At the room? At himself? It didn't matter. "The most beautiful woman in the world!" he declared. It was shouted to the room, a challenge as much as it was an assertion of fact. The murmur increased a little in response to his declaration but no one dared to challenge him in the slightest regarding this.

The words broke Beleg's thoughts.

Book and Scar nodded in agreement to Flayer's declaration, as did most every head in the Tavern. She was indeed a specamin to behold. Most only saw that outside beauty. But Book, Scar, Micah, and others, got a glimpse of her inner self, just a glimpse, and that was more beautiful than the outside.

"Refill our pitcher," he commanded her and turned his attention to Book. "That's what you're looking for," he said.

She turned her attention to Book as well as Flayer spoke, nodding in agreement to his words. Book wanted one like her. There was no other like her. She was Lenya. Safi was Safi. They were not the same. Even if many thought they were. No 2 were ever the same. What Book, and now Scar, wanted, was an intelligent, beautiful, obedient, loyal companion.. one they could trust completely and one that trusted them completely. Just like she trusted Flayer... and Flayer trusted her...

Climbing off the table, she paused, feeling tickling, a sensation, and then it was gone, or was it... She took the pitcher and, as the crowd parted, made her way to the bar, where Micah now stood, watching her approach with the same awe as before. Taking the pitcher from her, he began to refill it.

Lenya stood, waiting. None dared touch her. Not without Flayer's permission. There were already several men, human, speaking with Flayer, trying to negotiate a deal for usage of her, even if for only one hour. All had gold and silver coin, and were offering a small fortune to the Goblin...

As she stood, she felt it. It was as if the world, the Tavern, and all the people and the like inside, were now swimming in a sea of mist. The voices, some whispered, others laughing now, mingled together and flowed around her, until it sounded like the hissing of a giant serpent coiling through her mind. What was happening?????

It was then that she felt a heated touch, as if being invaded, slithering around her body, curling upwards along her naked curves, exploring, seeking, she even felt it glide easily between her legs, as if seeking her pussy, and wanting to slip inside..

Lenya closed her eyes, and cut the tendril with a harsh motion within her mind, sending it reeling back, almost screeching.. and she followed it, as it wound back to Iston. This was the sensation she had felt as she climbed from the table. It had followed her to the bar, it had attempted to push inside her, to wind around her like a powerful chain....

Lenya opened her eyes, and focused on the Elf, Iston. The world around her was misty and unfocused, except for him, she could see him clearly, feel his intrusion, and his hatred. She felt death, heard screams, felt the blades of their swords slicing hard into soft bodies as the females, the Elven females, the pregnant Elven females begged...

"Don't you even THINK about it" she hurled into his head, reaching in, seeking to pull his own mind apart, but the pain, the horror of his thoughts overwhelmed her, and Lenya fell to the floor, passing out with a low moan...

"FLAYER" Micah yelled.... and all 3... Book, Scar, and Flayer, along with Runt, who bounded in from the corner, just as Lenya hit the floor, having felt her distress, came running....

 

[Otto26]

"Ten gold is enough to buy a slave," the man insisted, "yet I only want the use of her for an hour."

Flayer shook his head. "You won't get what you want. You think she's some uncommon whore that loves to spread her legs for cock and you fail to see her for what she is. And I don't need or want your coins. Go pay one of the whores to pretend to be Lenya," he suggested.

"FLAYER!"

His eyes whipped towards the sound and heard Runt growling and he was moving, pushing through the crowd of men around the table.

Lenya was on the floor, Scar standing over her and scanning the room. Confident that his back was guarded, Flayer knelt next to her. She was breathing. Strongly. Clawed hands examined her but found no wounds or marks that he had not inflicted upon her himself.

"No wounds," he stated.

"She was looking at something," the tavernkeeper supplied. "While I was filling her pitcher. She looked angry, for a moment, and then she moaned and collapsed."

"Runt?" Flayer asked.

The Dorg whined, the sound merging into a growl. He hadn't been watching Lenya.

"I wasn't watching her either," Flayer stated.

"Some customers have left," Scar stated. "The elves are gone. I didn't see them leave. They looked... upset a moment before Micah yelled. When I looked back to find them, I couldn't."

"I'll take her down to the nest and clean her up. Have the whore from last night bring Lenya's clothing down," he ordered Micah. The man nodded.

"Scar and I will look for the elves," Book stated.

Runt barked softly, indicating he would help.

Flayer carefully gathered Lenya up, slinging her over his shoulder and stepped off, the crowd parting before him as he made his way to the stairs to the nests below.

 

[RainingHeat]

She was not entirely sure what had happened. It was not like she had a best grasp on using this new found ... gift... of hers. Communicating with Runt was one thing. Getting into Great-Pike's weak mind was another. But this was entirely different. Those Elves, or at least one of them, was proficient in what ever this gift was and had thrown her out of his head as easily and almost as physically as if he had struck her and knocked her unconscious.

What she had seen, felt... Lenya quickly pushed it out of her mind. She would deal with that, deal with what she thought she felt and saw, but not now. Her own mind was reeling.

She was laying, prone, on the softest of skins that lined the floor of the den. The world slowly came into focus. Sight, sound, and sensation. The sight was the dimly lit den, the sounds were nothing more than breathing, the sensation, however, was... soothing, and arousing...

Lenya felt first, the glide of warm water being gently massaged into her skin. As gentle as Flayer could manage, which was really quite, well, soft and calming. The warmth felt so good and the water cleansed her. But there was something, no someone else. She heard Flayer voice, commanding Tonya, to lick her clean. Flayer knew that the warmth of her tongue, the feel of it sliding along her most intimate of places, gentle, silken, would both rouse her and secure her...

Tonya's voice was a bare whisper as she answered with a "yes Master Flayer" having been instructed by Micah to obey Flayer with any request or demand.

The Slave girl knelt over Lenya's still slightly quivering body, the heat of her mouth cupping and then suckling within first the right nipple, and then the left, moving between the 2, she licked, kissed, and suckled each, as Lenya began to react. A low moan escaping her lips, her body, her back, arching upwards slightly to Tonya's mouth. The feeling began to wind through her, a heat that emanated from each now erect nipple, warming her... Tonya grinned at the reaction, as did Flayer, and she continued, licking each breast liberally, always pausing to suckle each nipple deeply, the soft tendrils of her hair tickling Lenya's skin...

When each breast was sufficiently wet and glistening, Tonya slowly trailed her tongue down the flat plane of Lenya's belly, kissing along the skin, lips gliding from one hip to the other before she settled between Lenya's outstretched, parted, legs. As Flayer continued to cleanse her, he watched as Tonya dipped her head between Lenya's thighs and with a flick of her tongue began licking along the sweet folds of Lenya's sex.

Lenya's eyes opened, and rolled back as she sighed, and all memory of what happened, what she had seen and felt from the Elves, faded. Tonya's tongue felt so good, and her body and pussy responded, a sudden flow of sweetness coating the pinkening lips and along the inner walls of her sex...

Tonya slid her tongue within and tasted of Lenya, before withdrawing and flicking the tip over her now protruding clit. Lenya's body shook, and her moans turned into deep purring cries of pleasure. She rocked her hips up to Tonya's mouth, and Tonya obliged, thrusting her tongue deeper into the tight grasp of Lenya's pussy. Gods she tasted good, she thought to herself, sweet, and heated. Her scent filled the den, both Lenya's and Tonya's as her own sex was now dripping with desire...

 

[Otto26]

Flayer continued to wash Lenya with the sponge as the whore used her lips and tongue on the slave. The water was warm and the sponge was soft and he wiped the sweat from her skin carefully and watched with even greater care. As he dipped the sponge in the water, rinsing it, Lenya moaned and his eyes darted back to her.

The whore was sucking at Lenya's cunt and Lenya was trembling. He nearly smiled at the sight. Lenya trembling helplessly in pleasure always filled him a sense of satisfaction and.... joy? Perhaps. He would explore that another time, have the whore relentlessly pleasure Lenya for his entertainment. But now... His hand reached down and took hold of the whore's hair, pushing her away from Lenya.

His hand stroked the side of Lenya's face and he waited until her eyes had found his, examining them. She looked coherent, undazed. A sense of relief swept through him and then his unease was replaced with anger.

"What happened?" he demanded. Something had attacked his Lenya. His. Lenya. Whatever that was he would.... Destroy. Pain!

His hand again stroked the side of her face softly, his eyes hard and demanding an answer.

 

[RainingHeat]

Deep breath...

Deep deep breath...

Her eyes focused, on Flayer, on his eyes, her mind equally focusing on his words.

"What happened?!?" His voice was stern, demanding, but his touch was gentle, surprisingly gentle, soft, soothing. He was not angry with her, that she could feel. He was angry at what happened. Angry and maybe even a little scared that someone, or something, had gotten to her.

Lenya sat up slowly, shaking her head just a bit to gain some clarity. Tonya had retreated back a few feet, seeing Lenya sitting up, she quickly fetched some water in a small goblet and offered it to her. With a nod of thanks, Lenya took the water and drank long and deep before answering Flayer's question.

"I am not entirely sure" she honestly answered. "I felt something, around me, like a serpent, trying to get into my head, my mind... and I saw..." she paused, taking another deep breath. "I saw those Elves, those 3 Elves at the Tavern. They were, they slaughtered all the pregnant slaves. Even as they were begging for their lives, they killed them in cold blood." her voice went cold as she spoke. It was one thing to kill in self defense, or to kill someone like Great-Pike, who had slaughtered a fair amount of humans, elves and even other Goblins.

But this was entirely different.

"I could hear them screaming, begging and I could feel.... feel their hatred, the Elves hatred"...

She turned and looked at Flayer, directly into his eyes.

"I've felt hatred before, being a half blood. But not like this. Not like what I felt from them"...

Book and Scar at that moment knocked on the doorframe for entrance, not wanting to intrude....

 

[Otto26]

The snarl was low and remained at the back of his throat as he reflexively stifled his instinctive desire to find the Elves and peel their flesh from their living bodies. He looked up at the sound at the door to the nest.

"Lenya says the Elves were thinking about hurting the fuckmeat. They tried to get into her mind and she saw into theirs," he stated. It was an effort to control his voice.

Book's face contorted into a mirror of Flayer's. If he lacked the same measure of pure instinctual response that Flayer had, it was more than compensated for by his understanding of the importance of the pregnant fuckmeat to his plans and the future of Great Dart's band.

Scar nodded. "They were looking at Lenya before she fell. I didn't think much of it; everyone looks at Lenya."

Flayer nodded his understanding and acceptance of what passed for an apology.

"Where," Book began, clearly having the same difficulty making his voice work.

"They left in the confusion. I looked over towards Lenya and when I looked back they were gone. Not just them; a few others left too," Scar stated in that slightly slower than normal cadence which marked his speech. "Does this mean you'll want me to stay and help guard them until Breeds a Lot gets back?" he asked.

Flayer looked at Book.

The half-breed's brow was furrowed and it took him a few moments to reply. "No, we stick with the plan. You guide Flayer and Lenya. I'll make sure the fuckmeat are safe. I'll set a room on fire and we'll close down the tavern for a few days. If the Elves attack while Breeds a Lot is moving them, then we'll have a surprise waiting."

Flayer thought about that. It was a risky plan. But it was Book's plan. "Lenya said the Elves hated hard."

Book nodded. "They ought to. When Goblin half-breeds can breed? We could take over the world. Certainly their part of it. Not that I want to. Trade is better."

Flayer nodded. He thought maybe Lenya made too much of that, but he also thought Book made too little of it. "Lenya and I will stay here for the rest of the night. We leave in the morning?"

Scar nodded and he and Book turned and left.

"Prostitute, get my Lenya good and wet for me," Flayer ordered, sitting back to watch. He *needed* to vent the adrenaline if he was going to get any rest before dawn.

 

[RainingHeat]

"Prostitute, get my Lenya good and wet for me," Flayer ordered, sitting back to watch.

Lenya was still lost in what had happened. It had shocked her, scared her to be honest. But it also showed her that she needed to control whatever this was that she seemed to have. Was it the same as Safi? What was it that Safi even had? Many had said it was a mystical power. Many feared it. Many feared Safi and Dart. Others thought it was nothing more than trickery of some sort. Lenya had never given it much thought. Even when Safi had delved into her own mind, and saw her plan for Great-Dart.

But now, Lenya realized, she perhaps had the same thing? It was not "power". It was a "gift". She was sure that was what her mother would call it, if she had her mother to talk to. But she did not. She only had Flayer and Runt. They were her family now. They were all she had...

Her eyes focused on the prostitute, Tonya...

"NO"... she was not sure why the word sprung from her lips, but she did not want anyone other than Flayer near her.

Sitting up suddenly, the room spun around her. The girl's face with a stunned look, then Flayer's scowl? Or was it confusion?

"No.. no please... just you..." Lenya turned, and moved to Flayer... She needed to feel him, and only him. He was the only one she trusted. She was trembling, as she submitted at his feet before him. "just you, please" her voice was soft, begging.

Tonya sat back, suddenly frightened that perhaps she had done something wrong. Micah would have her head if she crossed this newcomer, she already knew that. There was something about him and his slave that was different than most of the other Goblins that visited the Tavern and Dens. Something very different, only she did not understand what it was. The girl fascinated her. Even Tonya could sense the girl was not the same as the other slaves. There was a strength about her, yet there was a vulnerability that now showed in front of Flayer.

Lenya could sense the confusing thoughts of the slave girl. But quickly blocked them out. Her focus was Flayer. For the moment, she wanted to forget the Elves, forget Great-Pike and what she had done, forget Scar and Book, and just lose herself in Flayer. She felt his adrenalin, his stress, could almost hear his heart beating, hear the flow of his blood beginning to heat as his eyes raked over her, bore into her, caressed and possessed her.

"just... You... Please... Master Flayer".... Lenya turned then, on hands and knees, lowering her had and torso to the soft ground, offering the supple curve of her ass, the pink, moist lips of her pussy, and the darker entrance to her body, to him... She was glistening, dripping, her scent winding around him, enticing, begging, for only him.....