Esmeralda the Evil Necromancer 1

Gold curled and flaked off as the engraving tool skated slowly across its surface. Esmeralda carefully brushed any burrs away, then squinted through her magnifying aperture, checking her lines against the notes in her spellbook. Crafting magical objects was an incredibly precise and exacting process, but the results were worth all the effort. After nearly a decade of being an artificer, Esmeralda could enchant any object with unimaginable power. Pleased with her line work, she shifted her aperture, and began etching the necessary runes.

"Mistress!" Olivo shouted as he burst into her study. The engraving tool gouged a deep, careening trench through the intricate scrollwork she'd spent most of the last week inscribing. With a furious growl, Esmeralda slammed her tool down and whipped her head towards the interloper. Olivo looked positively terrified, which was quite a feat since he was a skeleton in courtier's robes, and thus lacked any of the skin or muscles necessary to make facial expressions.

"What is it?" Esmeralda hissed the question. All of her minions knew not to disturb her when she was in her study, but Olivo knew better than most since he was her personal steward. If he didn't have a supremely good reason, today would be the last day of his undeath.

"Adventurers!" The fretful skeleton exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his boney hands, "They've breached the outer defenses, and have slain all the goblins on the first floor! We'll be overrun soon if you don't take action!"

"What's the point of housing all you creatures if you can't repel a basic group of adventurers," Esmeralda grumbled as she lifted herself from her chair. She did a quick check to make sure she had all her most important magical items—not that she ever let any of them get out of her sight—then grabbed her Rod of Minion Domineering off her desk. "Meet me downstairs. And bring the Staff of Healing," she ordered, before placing a hand on her Amulet of Transport, and teleporting herself down to the second level of her tower.

Expertly crafted bookshelves and plush rugs melted and faded from her vision, and were replaced with drab, gray stone walls and splintering wooden floors. Esmeralda made a small sound of disgust; she hated visiting the lower floors of the tower. They were for lesser beings, with lesser tastes. The cacophony of battle was not difficult to follow, and after a short walk, Esmeralda found a scene far more grim than drafty halls and creaking walkways. Half a dozen or more goblins lay in bleeding, gory piles along the periphery of the room. Torpe, her minotaur enforcer, leaned against a wall with his arm against his stomach, trying to keep his innards in. At the center of the room were three kids with more tenacity than commonsense.

Their leader was a pretty standard warrior type: all armor plates, wildly swinging a spiked mace. He was covered in more goblin gore than the floor was, and the floor was practically painted in the stuff. Beside him was a roguish woman. Clad in black, oiled leather armor, she spun and whirled around, puncturing lungs and kidneys with precise stabs of her daggers. Behind them was the most wizardly wizard, complete with purple robes, a big gray beard, and a long yew staff. Just three of them, and they were absolutely wrecking her entire force of minions.

"Worthless," Esmeralda mumbled the insult under her breath. Then, holding the Rod of Minion Domineering aloft, she commanded "Goblins! Charge, and hold them in place!" All the remaining goblins, without thought or hesitation, followed her order. The strength of the enchantment she had woven into her rod was immense, and even minions on the brink of death, including the fatally wounded, threw themselves at the trio of invaders despite the futility of their effort.

Though the remaining goblins barely slowed the adventurers, all Esmeralda needed was a brief distraction. With a whispered command word, she pulled a churning, whirling ball of magical fire out of her Ring of Fireballs, and lobbed it in the direction of the pile of warring bodies. The sphere of energy exploded in a massive conflagration that incinerated everything within its confines. Adventurer and goblin alike disintegrated in the fiery holocaust, which only lasted long enough for them to experience a moment of pure agony, before abruptly disappearing with a flash.

The wall of heat blasted Esmeralda's long hair and loose robes back. As the fire and victims dissolved, the only thing that remained was a godawful stench of burned flesh and charred leather. A quick survey of the room showed her that all the most immediate concerns were alleviated; all that remained was grunt work, like moving bodies and scrubbing blood from the floor and walls. She'd leave that to the minions.

"Mistress!" Olivo called, somehow sounding out of breath—despite not having had lungs for over a decade—as he stumble-ran into the room. "I brought the Staff of Healing."

"Start with Torpe, then see if there are any salvageable goblins. Goblins are easily replaced, but the minotaur is invaluable," she ordered nonchalantly. "My skin is dry and my hair smells of roasted elf, so I'm going to take a bath while you lot clean up this mess." With her orders dispersed, she placed her fingers to her amulet, and spirited herself back to the top of the tower.

Baths were important to Esmeralda. Even before becoming the dreaded Witch-Necromancer she was essentially addicted to the warmth and cleanliness that a good bath could provide. As such, her bathing room was the most elaborate and cared-for room in her tower. The floors and walls were made of immaculately worked marble tile, all a brilliant white with whorls of gold running through it. The bath itself was built into the center of the room: a round, kidney-shaped tub with marble steps that rose up along every edge of it. Crystal-pure water flowed in a delicate waterfall from the mouth of a gargoyle statue, ensuring she'd always have fresh water, while her hand-carved magical runes kept that water at exactly the perfect temperature. Her bath was ready at any hour, day or night.

A lovely vanilla lavender scent wafted through the steamy swirls as she undressed. Her velvety black robes slid from her shoulders, forming an inky pool around her feet. Unhooking the buckles, she stepped out of her pointed-toe shoes, and over her robes. With a trepidatious sigh, Esmeralda then removed her most important elements. She laid her magical rings and bracelets, and even her amulet along with her panties atop the growing mound of clothes. With her rod next to the pile, she was at her most vulnerable; naked, and without any magical items beyond her emergency earring, a single-use spell she was never without, even when sleeping.

Esmeralda carefully stepped into the almost scalding waters of her bath. Lowering herself down to her shoulders, she breathed out a contented sigh as the calming heat penetrated every inch of her. This was the life she was meant to lead. Crafting magical devices, commanding a legion of loyal minions, and taking long, hot baths. Esmeralda loosed another sound of contentment, before dunking her head and her long, white hair into the nourishing water.

Esmeralda giggled like a little girl when she finally resurfaced. This was her sanctuary. The only location she was free to be herself. Among her inferior subordinates she needed to command with an air of power and authority. When she was weaving magics she needed to project a calm stoicism. But in the water, she was free to be a bit childish, completely unburdened by the rest of the world. It was her greatest refuge.

"Mistress," Olivo's voice shattered her blissful reverie. A single word razing her long-believed illusion of safety and comfort. Esmeralda instinctively covered her chest with both of her slender arms; Olivo had no penis and shouldn't be capable of getting an erection, but she still wasn't going to give him a free look at her naked body. "Many of your loyal, and hard working, underlings have some complaints they would like to lodge."

"Olivo!" She hissed. Esmeralda had never been so angry in all her life. She would be disenchanting her skeletal steward and replacing him immediately. "My bathing room is strictly off limits. Even to you. Get. Out. NOW." She put as much force into that final word as she possibly could, but crouched beneath the water with her hands clutching her tits, she didn't project the most frightening presence.

Olivo made no move to extricate himself. Something was off; incredibly off. Olivo had been made with a devotion to her that was nearly religious. Not only would he not question her orders, he should be incapable of doing anything but carrying out her every whim without hesitation. Beyond that, though, his normally expressive skull seemed blank, and emotionless. His usual fretful and worrisome nature was entirely absent. He stood rigid, his empty eye sockets dark and menacing as they stared her down.

Esmeralda realized Olivo was holding her Rod of Minion Domineering, and was seized with a cold dread that even her warm bath couldn't touch.

"Olivo. Put down that rod," she commanded, her unsteady voice cracking as she said the words. The skeleton wasn't controlled by the rod's magic, he was compelled by the very nature of the spell that animated him, but the rod was how she maintained order and controlled the rest of her horde.

"It is safe to enter, gentlemen," Olivo said, as he took a step back. A grimy posse trudged into Esmeralda's private marble sanctum. Streaked with sweat and soot and dirt, she didn't recognize most of the faces, but she knew they had to be hers. Most were goblins—gnarled little men whose green skin was scarred and bruised—but among the small, vile miscreants was Torpe, her minotaur warrior. As he entered, the minotaur took the Rod of Minion Domineering from Olivo.

"Thanks, Big O," Torpe said. Then, without warning or fanfare, he brought the magical artifact down on his knee, snapping it like a twig. The contained magics rushed out in a whisper of luminescence, which faded with a quiet finality.

"What is the meaning of this?" Esmeralda demanded. She wished as much control into her voice as she could, but even in her ears she sounded small and frightened. Without the rod she was nearly powerless against them.

"Change in management," Torpe said, discarding the ruined remnants of her rod over his broad shoulders. This was bad. Very extremely supremely bad. Esmeralda's eyes flicked down to the pile of clothes and magical items she left at the base of the stairs. With the goblins approaching, their nasty little feet smudging foul footprints in her white marble, there was no chance she could reach them first. She only had one option: her emergency earring.

Locking eyes with Olivo's empty, black sockets, Esmeralda slowly started to raise her hand, hoping to reach the magically etched sapphire that dangled off her ear before things got irreparably out of control.

"Grab her," Torpe growled, "before she does something stupid."

Her scheme discovered, Esmeralda eschewed any pretense of subtlety and quickly grabbed for the blue gem, trying to reach it before the goblins reached her. Her fingers wrapped around the jewel as the first of the green brutes slammed into her. Desperate and terrified, Esmeralda clenched her eyes shut, and shouted the activation keyword.

Water flooded her mouth as body after body crashed into her. They were significantly smaller than her, but they were vicious and unrelenting. Esmeralda fought as well as she could while half drowning and with only one free arm, but even in the best of circumstances she couldn't hope to wrestle a horde of goblins. Within seconds, the disgusting creatures had prized her fingers off her earring, hoisted her above water, and locked down her arms, holding them spread to either side with their wicked little hands. Esmeralda's hair hung wet and heavy, and any attempt to pull free was stimied by the clutching claws gripping her tightly. Defeated, Esmeralda hung her heavy head. All around her, the warm, scented waters of her beloved bath grew dirty and brackish as the filth of the goblins washed off, forever tainting her private sanctuary.

"I knew you'd never simply lay down and take it," as Torpe talked, he cupped her chin with one of his enormous hands, and raised her head so she could look nowhere but his face, "but, I at least expected a bit more resistance." Esmeralda struggled to pull one arm free, but the goblins had her in an iron grip. Immensely outnumbered, what resistance did he think she could muster?

Staring up at him, Esmeralda realized just how massive the minotaur truly was. She knew he was large, that was why she'd allowed him to join her ranks, but being forced to kneel before him, naked and restrained, gave her an entirely new perspective. His chest seemed endless; his shoulders were wide enough she could likely lay across them and still have leg room; his arms were like forged steel—perfectly sculpted and frighteningly powerful. He was an immense, violent monster. And she was at his mercy.

Pain exploded from the side of her head, as Torpe's hand moved lightning-fast from her chin to her ear, and ripped her one lifeline free of her flesh. Blood dripped into the already murky water, along with the blue gem. Esmeralda barely held in her pained scream. These beasts didn't deserve that pleasure.

"Lift her up," Torpe commanded the goblins, "the water's too dirty, I can't see her tits." Esmeralda struggled against them, but the green savages effortlessly lifted her until her bare chest was visible, rivulets of dirty water running down her skin. Torpe tilted his head, looking her over from every angle, as if he were appraising a rare jewel; or inspecting livestock. He reached down and cupped her breast with one hand, and Esmeralda thrashed against her captors, desperately trying to break free of their grasp. She simply wasn't strong enough.

"Not bad," he said as he casually played with her. His fingers squished and kneaded her flesh, then bounced and tested the weight. He pinched and tweaked her nipple, causing her to flinch and stifle a yelp. "They'll get even bigger when you're pregnant."

"What?!" She finally broke her silence. She couldn't hold in her shocked reaction. The fear and surprise evident in her voice must've delighted the goblins, because they all began to cackle with a sadistic glee.

"We've lost a lot of good warriors. Adventurers assault the tower nigh-daily," he explained. None of this was news to her, the only unexpected part was his conclusion, "so, you're going to become a goblin breeding factory."

"No…" the word came out of her as a desperate, hoarse whisper. This couldn't be her fate. The world could never be so cruel to allow such a thing to befall her.

"It only takes a week or so for a human body to incubate a goblin spawn," Olivo chimed in to explain. Esmeralda didn't hear a word he said, her entire world was spiraling out of control. "If we can capture a few additional females from the raiding adventurers, we'll be back to full strength in a month or two. If we can maintain a robust breeding program we might be able to overwhelm the neighboring kingdoms by year's end." Olivo was now just a few feet away, his hollow black sockets staring at her with utter disdain. "Not that you'll live to see it. Most incubators only survive a dozen or so births. You'll burn out well before winter sets in."

This was it. Her last chance to save herself before she became an endless plaything for a horde of soulless, evil monsters. She needed to get free, or die trying. Anything was better than living only to service these disgusting men.

Esmeralda went limp, giving a nonverbal signal that she had given up, then after only a second, she launched herself away from her captors. Whether by luck, or destiny, or a simple mix of slippery water and goblin negligence, she managed to break free of their grasp. Splashing and flailing, she avoided their hastily scrambled offense, and even made it onto the ledge of the tub, free of their angry grabbing fingers. Torpe looked more bored than angry, as Esmeralda stood on the lip of her bath. Even with the boost in height, she wasn't eye-level with the bovine brute. If she could escape him she'd be free, he was the only remaining obstacle.

Esmeralda feinted right, then made to dive left. Before her feet could leave the slippery marble tile, Torpe lashed out, grabbing her by the throat, completely engulfing it with just one hand. Less than a single hand, even, as only three of his massive fingers could fit around her neck. Still, he was so impossibly strong, that was more than plenty for him to hold her aloft. Esmeralda thrashed in his grip, kicking with her legs while trying to dig her nails into his steely forearm. The minotaur was entirely unfazed by her impotent struggles.

Torpe wound back, then slammed his other fist into her stomach. Pain exploded inside her. The agony was so powerful that her vision blurred and her brain fizzled. Urine poured out of her in a gushing spray. It ran down her leg in a warm, shameful cascade, dripping off her foot, and pooling in a puddle beneath her dangling legs. Whether forced out by the strength of the blow, or simply by her being so overwhelmed with fear and helplessness, it didn't matter. Either way, she piddled herself like a scared little girl. That's all she was, anymore.

"Pitiful," the minotaur said, before letting her go. Esmeralda landed in her own piss with a splash and a whimper. She was little more than a crumpled, broken heap. It was over. She'd lost.

"If you lads would like to commence," Olivo casually invited the goblins to ravage her. They didn't hesitate at the opportunity.

The horde of vicious, lusty goblins slammed into Esmeralda, pushing her face-down into her own pee. She was in far too much pain to fight any longer, and couldn't resist the urgent, grabby hands that greedily explored her naked body. Some fondled her breasts, or pinned her arms, or even jammed their grubby fingers into her mouth. Most of them gathered behind her, eagerly spreading her cheeks and thighs, their tiny digits poking and prodding at her lower openings with lecherous intent. After some jeering and posturing, one brave tongue painted a wet stripe over her pussy, cleaning the mess she'd made of herself. A few voices chimed in with "eww" or "disgusting," but before even the echoes of those cries faded, more mouths than she could accommodate found their way to her. Like a herd of animals trying to get their fill at a food trough, goblins crowded her quim, licking, lapping, sucking, and nibbling her most sensitive area.

Bile rose up in Esmeralda, burning the back of her throat as it threatened to come up. Would that deter them, or would they just push her face in that also? With some effort, she kept herself from vomiting; this was humiliating enough without that addition. The gibbering mass of mouths pulled away as one bold, selfish goblin made room for himself. Esmeralda relished the small reprieve, because she knew it would be her last.

Esmeralda choked on a grunt as the first dick was pushed into her. She'd never had cause to think of a goblin's cock before, but as one was forced into her—the first of many, surely—she could think of little else. It was large, both in length, and girth, and as he started thrusting into her it seemed to scrape and rub against all the most sensitive bits inside her. A new revulsion bubbled up inside her, as her body started warming up to his intrusion. Was there a part of her that didn't completely abhor this?

No. She refused to enjoy any part of this violation.

A small hand slapped her ass with a resounding crack! and a pathetic wail escaped her. As soon as her lips parted to utter the sound, another opportunistic goblin speared his cock into her. It was nauseating. Not just because of the vile monster it was attached to, but also because she could taste the filth of it. It was almost gritty, and it felt as if her bath was the first time water had ever touched it. Esmeralda would've retched if the dirty dick wasn't plugging the back of her throat.

Spit roasted by two goblins, Esmeralda already felt overwhelmed. Each one slammed into her with enough force to propel her onto the other, passing her back-and-forth between their greedy thrusts. Pummeled on both ends, she already felt like she was drowning in dick, and she could see countless more in her peripheral vision. They lined up on both sides of her, tiny hands stroking disproportionately large cocks as they watched their brethren brutalize her. An impatient goblin grabbed one of her wrists and pulled it out from under her, guiding her hand to his throbbing erection. A copycat on her other flank followed suit, and she had to flex her core to keep herself raised into position.

Despite herself, Esmeralda moaned against the filthy cock battering her mouth. She couldn't help it. Something about the way her back arched to keep herself elevated helped the goblin cock to find new places within her pussy. Each thrust got deeper, or brushed the exact right spot to drive her absolutely wild. He was churning her up, and her efforts to keep her face off the pissy floor were only helping to drive her to the brink. She needed something to change before she came, and her shameful, broken failure was fully realized.

The goblin behind her bucked and jerked as he came inside her. His jizz exploded into her, a bloom of warmth filling her already stuffed pussy, before seeping deeper into her. He pulled out with a satisfied groan, a small waterfall of cum following his already fading erection. Esmeralda's respite didn't last long; within seconds another dick plunged into her, headless of the jizzy mess still inside her. This second goblin made the previous look like a generous lover. He assaulted her cunt with violent, aggressive thrusts, battering her insides like he was trying to storm a castle.

Esmeralda flexed unconsciously as she tried to get accustomed to this rabid enthusiasm, and felt the final throbbing thrust of the goblin that filled her right hand. His thick jizz spurted out, painting long streaks down her arm. This eruption started a chain reaction. The filthy cock in her mouth pulled back just enough so that his cumshot spewed across her tongue and down her throat. The salty sting both burning and choking her. Another goblin, who had taken to rubbing his dick along the inside of her armpit, orgasmed against her side, spraying his cum across her ribs and onto her tits. Even more cum sprayed her back as an overeager goblin jacked himself to completion. A splash on her ass cheek, a dribble on her shoulder, an oozing gush in her hair. Goblin after goblin finished on, or in her in rapid succession. But, the finale in this explosive series of orgasms was her own.

Overwhelmed, overused, and surrounded by an overpowering miasma of unrestrained and unquenchable lust, she simply couldn't hold it in any longer. As cum coated nearly every inch of her skin, and an aggressive goblin cock roughly fucked her jizz-filled cunt, Esmeralda crashed reluctantly into her climax. She squealed involuntarily, as the pleasure in her body overpowered every other sense and thought. That bliss evaporated immediately, as she gargled, then choked on the cum in her throat. Esmeralda pulled her hands away from the verdant forest of cocks, holding herself up as she hacked and coughed and sputtered, desperately trying to clear her airways. Even unable to breathe, her body continued to ride her orgasm. Her cunt clenched and contracted against the hostile penetration, scraping deliciously against his hardness in spite of everything.

With her mouth open wide to cough, and her hands occupied by supporting her body, two impatient goblins fought to be the next to fuck her face. Slapping and shoving, they warred over the small real-estate between her lips. They arrived simultaneously, and rather than continue to jockey for position, they both simply thrust into her mouth, together. Barely able to breath, Esmeralda's jaw burned with the strain of opening wide enough for the pair of dicks pistoning against her cheeks, and into her throat. This was too much. She was too full, and her pussy was growing more and more sensitive as the warmth of her orgasm faded.

The goblin in her overwrought pussy came, adding his load to the dozen or more she'd already had heaped upon her. Her stomach bulged as spurt after spurt poured into her. She was brimming, on the brink of eruption. She needed a release before the pressure built any further; but, rather than pull out, the aggressive goblin kept thrusting. His dick even grew harder as he continued to plow into her, and his fucking grew more urgent and more eager. Esmeralda tried to scream, she tried to beg or plead for a little relief, but with the cocks spearing her mouth, all she could muster was a sloppy, slobbery groan. She reached back, flailing either arm to try to fend him off, but the ferocious goblin caught her wrists and pulled.

Esmeralda's back arched and her chest stuck out as the goblin destroyed her cunt with his vicious, ferocious fucking. She moaned as her overworked pussy transmuted pleasure into a burning ache. The two goblins in her mouth neared their climax together, and pulled out to paint their seed across her face and bouncing tits. Mouth finally freed, Esmeralda's tongue lolled out as she groaned in blissful agony.

The final goblin still inside her came again, his second orgasm easily outdoing the first. Esmeralda felt like she was going to burst. She had more cum inside her than outside, and they had painted every inch of her tan complexion pearly white with their endless loads. Fully buried inside her, the goblin held her tight as he deposited every single drop he had in him.

"That's enough," Torpe announced. "Let her rest, or she might break before she's given us our first goblin whelp." The brute finally released her, and Esmeralda collapsed to the cum and piss covered floor. It was vile, and repugnant, and the most satisfying bed she'd ever laid in. She didn't even care that she could feel the last goblin still dripping spunk on her ass, she was just relieved to lay down and not get fucked, even if only for a second. "Wash up, and get back downstairs. I don't want a group of adventurers to jump us with our pants literally around our ankles."

Esmeralda heard the goblins splash and scrub in the already befouled bath, then stomp off. She continued to lay there, praying to recover any of her spent energy before they returned. She was only dimly aware of Torpe as he flipped her onto her back. Standing above her, he was as tall as a mountain. Maybe larger. His black eyes looked down on her with callous apathy.

"When Big O suggested this plan, I was doubtful," he said with casual disdain. "I wanted to slit your throat and throw you out a window. Be done with you and move on. But, I think you deserve this. All of this." He stooped down so that his face filled her vision. His brown muzzle and ivory horns and cold, dead eyes. "You make a good goblin cumslut," as he gave her the wretched compliment, he placed his hand gingerly on her swollen stomach, "and you'll make a great goblin momma." With a sneer, he pressed his weight down, causing the jizz still inside her to gush like a geyser between her legs. Even after he rose back to his full height, her cunt continued to burble like a brook.

"I have to admit," he continued his one-sided conversation, "it was kinda hot watching them boys rape you. Got me real worked up…" Torpe reached into his leather loincloth, and pulled out the largest cock Esmeralda had ever seen. It was as long as her forearm, and maybe as thick. With a peculiar flat-ish head, the member itself was the only part of him that wasn't covered in fur, though a furry sheath wrapped around the base. It looked less like a sexual organ, and more like a weapon of war. A cudgel for beating pussy into submission. Torpe smirked down at her, stroking his still growing erection, a vicious, lecherous gleam in his eye.

"No…" Esmeralda groaned. It wasn't possible. The goblins had been too much for her, this thing would break her in half. "Please…"

"Since you asked so nicely," he said, with a chuckle as he knelt between her legs. Holding his dick with one thick paw, he slapped it against her opening. Well, the base hit her pussy, most of the shaft impacted her stomach; the head reached all the way to her bellybutton.

"Please," she begged, finding some small piece of self preservation, "it'll kill me! That thing will tear me apart!"

"Don't worry," he leaned forward and spoke softly, treating her more like a lover, rather than the predator and prey that they were, "I'll be gentle." Torpe rubbed the head of his cock across the cum-smeared entrance to her pussy. With surprising delicacy, he slowly eased it into her, attentive to spread the present wetness enough so that his penetration was only a dull ache, instead of a tearing of flesh. Carefully, he ushered his inhuman dick as far into her as he dared. Esmeralda's breath caught in her throat as he kept delving deeper and deeper. When he finally stopped, and let out a satisfying sigh, she felt like she was choking on it, from the inside out.

"Gods," he groaned as he rested a moment, soaking in her warmth, "it's been far too long since I fucked a pussy. Especially a tight little hole like yours." He eased out slowly, then after a few inches, pushed back in. Then he did it again, setting a slow, gentle rhythm as he fucked her with only the first third of his dick. "This overused goblin cunt feels like a dream. Makes me want to go all out. Like I might go feral." With his mouth just a hair's breadth from her ear, he lustily groaned, "Like I'll shish kebab your organs with my beef stick."

Esmeralda's eyes went wide with fear. She might have begged him to spare her, if she could breathe properly. It felt like there wasn't enough room in her body for both air, and his cock. Besides, it wasn't like her pleading had gotten her even a drop of sympathy from this monster.

Torpe's slow pace built, growing a bit faster and more urgent, even as Esmeralda's body struggled to grow accustomed to him. His intrusion never became comfortable, her body would never accommodate such incredible size, but even at his roughest, he was far more gentle than the horde of goblins. Her pussy stretched and burned, but his calm, almost tender thrusts still resembled sex. She could feel a treacherous warmth begin to form in her belly. A growing wetness between them eased the pain further, adding to that building heat.

Esmeralda bit her lip. Hard. She could feel yet another unwanted orgasm growing within her. Unmistakable, undeniable. She tried to ignore it, to push it away, but every time he socketed deep into her, it became harder to disregard. Like a living thing, it rattled the bars of its cage, demanding to be set free. To be loosed into reality.

"You're enjoying yourself," Torpe said. It wasn't a question. He cradled her jaw with one enormous hand, but rather than controlling, it was almost sensual. He was watching her face, her contorting expressions of pleasure and pain. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, and a soft, bliss-filled whimper escaped her. Fuck, she hated herself for that. "Fuck, that's hot," he groaned. His breath was like scalding steam on the side of her face. "Maybe after a half dozen goblin babies, I'll make you mine," she could barely think as he growled his master plan in her ear. She was getting closer and closer to that peak, and fending it off was growing increasingly difficult. "A little stretched out, a little used. You'd make a perfect play thing. I could get you a little collar. Fuck you every. Single. Day. " He timed a powerful thrust to emphasize each word, and it nearly sent her. "Would you like that?"

"Noooooo…" the sound stretched out as Esmeralda came, the rebuke morphing into a moan of ecstasy. She groaned and shook, her whole body contracting and squeezing the dick that had brought her to they climax.

"Fuck," Torpe said, slowing his rhythmic thrusts, "FUCK." Gripping the furry sleeve at the base of his cock, he pulled the entire enormous appendage out of her, leaving her feeling hollow as her orgasming cunt clenched air instead of his blessedly hard cock. His dick crashed down on her like a falling tree, her body nearly cratering from the impact. It spanned from her chin to her navel, his soft balls resting on her tummy. Torpe mashed her breasts against the sides of his cock, and there was barely enough titty to cover even a small portion of it. He only managed two or three thrusts before he came, the process having already started before he had pulled out.

Minotaur cum blasted her face in a powerful, wet explosion. Her hair, her forehead, her freckled cheeks, her nostrils, nowhere was safe from the deluge that poured out onto her, and threatened to drown her. She coughed and hacked as the rich, earthy cum shot up her nose and down her throat, burning on its way. As she struggled to get anything but spunk into her lungs, he rose off of her. Standing above her, he continued to jack off, his cum dribbling out with each languid stroke. It was so much. More than all of the goblins combined. Thick and sticky, it dripped on her tits and her belly as he finished himself off. If he'd released it all within her, she'd have popped like a soap bubble.

He shuddered, and sighed contentedly as he finally ran out of jizz. He let go of his dick, and it swayed between his knees as the stiffness slowly wore away.

"Torpe!" Olivo's bonedust voice sounded concerned as he scrambled into the room. "Adventurers!"

"Fuck. Already?" The minotaur grumbled as he turned to head out.

"Shouldn't we tie up our prized breeding sow?" The skeleton asked as Torpe neared the door.

"Nah," he assured. "She's serviced over a dozen cocks. Had who knows how many orgasms. I doubt she can even walk, let alone run away." His voice began to fade as the two walked away. "Besides, you took all her magical items. What's she going to do, crawl away?"

Esmeralda laid on the marble tile of her one-time sanctuary, curling into a fetal position. It was the haven where she could retreat away from the harsh reality of the world, and have a carefree moment of relaxation. The one safe space she had in all the universe. It was now tainted. Dripping with piss and jizz and dirt and blood. Even the waters of her bath were murky gray with the muck and grime of her many attackers. And this was only the beginning. The first in a lifetime of forced gangbangs, until she died of over-breeding.

No. She refused. She wouldn't let herself become a worthless, helpless cum-dump for a ruthless horde of monsters that should be serving her. This wasn't the end of her story. Esmeralda pushed herself onto her hands and knees. Every single muscle protested, her bones creaked. Just holding herself there was exhausting, and the slimy feeling of cum oozing down her body, dripping off her skin, made her want to retch. Nevertheless, she rose to her feet.

What could she do? Running down the stairs, she'd stumble into Olivo and Torpe. Without any of her magical creations, she wouldn't be able to resist them. She looked to the pile where she'd left all her enchanted jewelry when she'd stripped. All that remained was her soiled black robes. She had nothing. Not even her emergency earring.

Wait, that's it! When Torpe pulled it out of her ear, he'd dropped it in the bath. They hadn't retrieved it. It should still be there. With a renewed vigor, Esmeralda rushed to the edge of the bathtub. She looked into the fetid depths of the bespoiled water. The foul liquid was too cloudy to see the bottom. It could be gone. Washed away, or found by one of the goblins when they washed themselves. It might not even be there any longer. But, it was her only hope.

Taking a deep breath, Esmeralda dove into the waters that were once her respite. Swimming through grit and grime, she scrabbled at the bottom of the tub for her one chance at survival. Her fingers found sand and dirt and rock, but no earring. Her lungs and throat, which had both suffered more punishment tonight than ever before, screamed for relief, for air. She couldn't afford to listen. Desperately, her hands searched, her tiny light of hope dying beneath the dirty water.

One digit brushed some small bauble. A flash of magic tingled against her skin. A quick spark, and her hope reignited once again. Grabbing the gem, her head swimming from lack of air, Esmeralda finally burst forth from the fouled bath. She gasped, straining to refill her lungs. She wanted to scream and shout and laugh. She'd never felt such immense joy. She had a chance. She might actually survive this hell.

Reinvigorated by her renewed hope, and soothed by the warmth of the bath—despite the grime, the magic runes still kept the water at the perfect temperature—Esmeralda crawled out of the tub. She couldn't linger. Not for a second. She snatched up her velvety robes and pointed shoes, then excitedly said the keyphrase. The sapphire in her hand glowed a blinding brilliant blue, and then it, and her, disappeared in a plume of magic.