Belney the Supplicant Ch. 03

(Author's note: Once again, Trigger Warning. In this fantasy story, themes of non-consent. Potentially traumatizing content. All characters portrayed are over the age of 18. )

Chapter Three, Belney's Harrowing First Flight With the Goblins.

Pre dawn found the three goblins exiting the shallow cave with their big human captive amidst the first bird song and a crisp breeze from the West. They had fitted Belney with their two packs, but being too small to fit over both human shoulders they were expertly lashed to the mid-back of her harness and bounced as she stepped gingerly down on their lead-rope from the rocky place of the cave to the forest path below. Her skin tingled in the chill morning air. Memory and sense began to creep back in around the edges. Now they were running. One goblin leading her and two behind. The pace was manageable, given their size difference, but her focus had to stay on the sensations of her feet. Constantly she must dodge sharp rocks and roots. What had happened? How had she gotten here? Who even was she? Everything felt like a dream, and yet these little green men felt familiar, as if from a dream. A stewing mix filled her thoughts, the creeping edge of dread and horror, and of the body pleasure memory of their trance-orgy.

She had come to them, she began to remember as she jogged naked, weirdly tied like a circus bear or an armless chicken between these small smooth headed creatures. At least the way they had bound her breasts reduced their painful bouncing. She had been given a command, and she followed. The order had come to her over and over again, in variations, until she relented. Until she felt their logic in her head as her own. That whispered hissing voice of theirs, in chorus, had broken her will. You belong to us now, it said, simply because our paths crossed. Our destinies are intertwined. Your new life is to serve us. You'll be safe only if you surrender fully. You're ours now.

Belney shivered with the dawning realization. It couldn't land with her all at once. She needed to live. She ran with her captors, feet numb but agile. Breath filled her lungs. Briefly they stopped and she was pulled to her knees and hand-fed some slimy half-dry meat from one of the green men. She found it strangely spiced and then weirdly delicious. It gave her a memory of his thing in her mouth. One of the little green men watched her, but she kept her eyes downcast. He stepped close, pulling her leash so her head came down and forward just a little and touched her lips and face with his little smooth fingers as it she chewed. She really was terribly hungry. She dared to meet his eyes briefly, and thought she saw in their narrow blackness a gleam of sharp amusement. She was led to drink from a stream. Without the use of her arms she relied on the aid of her captors, who had tied back her hair and fashioned a rough handle of her ponytail. She could either lay completely down or drop to her knees and just widen them down, then close her thighs to raise back up. She was muddy, and there was no brushing herself off. She gazed across the water at eye level with the stream. Little insects danced along the surface in the eddies and swirls. A moment of beauty in this nightmare. That wouldn't happen in a dream. She felt her ass slapped to induce her to move. Nothing to be done. Like a horse, she realized. Thats how she felt, as she labored unsteadily to get to her feet with her arms tied behind. Or a mule.

Crouching out of need and peeing among them, Belney felt another piece of her dignity slip away. Her breath caught with a muffled sob but she caught it as the running began again. They moved upslope into forest, and as she ran she felt parts of her mind recede. Parts of her past. The singing and dancing self that she knew. She locked those parts up on high dark shelves in her mind. Those young parts, those joyful parts. Her body lived now with an immediacy. Only by staying in the moment could she stay alive. The strange poison drug from yesterday was her new self, the way it lingered. The voices of her captors in her head. Their breath in her ears. Their hands all over and in her. The essence of these creatures that she had taken into herself and felt in her still as she ran. It was her now. On they ran.

As the day wore on, Belney's pace began to falter. Running without arms, like a chicken, she has taken a couple of minor falls, she had chosen to land into her left shoulder and roll each time. It must have been a sight. The three little men beat her wickedly with thin branches stripped of leaves when she fell, raising welts up and down her as she crouched and cowered. She tried to call out her apology but the leather horse bit in her mouth permitted no words. Only dribbles of drool down her neck. Thankfully, the goblins took little time for punishments or expressions of contrition between them, because they were forever sniffing the air and dashing forward.

A small portion of time was spent moving up the middle of a shallow creek. As she struggled on the slippery rocks, her memory knew it was an attempt to thwart followers. She felt beyond help. Just look at what she'd become in a day. She couldn't allow for the possibility of rescue. At a point the goblins seemed to identify some subtle sign, while they hiked side-slope along a forested animal trail, because they suddenly veered straight uphill through a scree field. In some ways, the chaos of jumbled stones was easier for Belney to manage with her long legs. But it was exhausting, and she was physically at her breaking point when they finally dipped into another shallow cavern. This one had a dusty earth floor, where she promptly dropped to her spread knees and let her top half drape down. Breasts down in the dirt and head turned to one side, her breath gradually slowed. She had a limited field of view. Her goblins were busy with things she could hear. Ground was being scraped and shaped into a shallow bowl. One goblin returned with pine branches to close the entrance, leaving only trickles of diffuse daylight.

They were chanting again. As she rested in her folded, prone position, their familiar tones and patterns filled her mind and swirled around her. One had fed and watered her again, removing her mouth bit and giving her a drink of some herbal concoction. It was so strange how she felt herself respond with rising hope to these moments of care from her captors. Her cheeks would flush and her heart would pound. Not in fear, or not only that, also a strange sentimental gratitude. She felt if she could endear herself to her captors, she could live. The strong drink warmed her immediately. She dozed while they chanted. She was awakened by one of them raising her head gently onto his lap and without warning piercing her through the cartilage of her nose, between her nostrils. Something was slid through there. The pain washed over and dissipated. What was left was a throbbing place on her face. This joined the ache in her shoulders, arms, legs and feet. There was mild soreness in her womb and bowels as well. All these sore places called out softly or loudly for attention. Still no release of her hands to attend to herself. Her attention drifted with their resumed chanting into a goblin permeated stupor.

She was roused this time by a change in the chanting whisper of their voices. They were around her now. Hands had raised her wide hips, allowing an oiled goblin to slip under her. She felt the heat of his hard cock slipping between her soreness as she was pushed down to him by hands on her ass. Her body responded. Her wetness welcomed them. This caused a tug of war in her between the revulsion and shame of her predicament- Seeing herself in this cave now, her body driven to seek more of these moments of pleasure and bonding and escape. She moaned and contracted around the thick pole as it paused in her. She felt his big ears and the side of his head just under her breasts. Slick fingers wiggled in her ass, causing her to retreat from them into the cock pushing up from below. Soon she felt the pop of entry- and then the fullness as he began his pushing assault. She pushed her head into the warm goblin belly that held her. A finger was opening her mouth, then the big velvety smooth head made her open wider. His musky smell and taste washed through her. Their chanting was a whisper. Ugh, ugh, ugh- she slurred around him. The head was soft against her moving tongue.

She had put precisely two human penises in her mouth prior to this. Both were exciting, rushed events. They were smaller, with heads like olives, rather than the goblin's duck eggs. They tasted different, less musky. They poked around clumsily. This thing happening now- it was a taking of all of herself. The way all her openings were filled at once overwhelmed her with sensation. No choice but to give in. She felt like exploding, but whichever way she moved for relief, strong hands and thrusting cocks pushed back- into her deepest places. She cried out. Screamed, sobbed. And She surrendered. She began to want them. Became totally willing to be held and ridden in this state of submission. The one at her head squished more of himself in with a sigh. She rolled her tongue around the warm flesh filling her mouth and gagged a little. Squeezing and quivering between the two cocks pushing from both sides- she dissolved in shaking climax.

They're so warm and slippery, she thought, regaining herself. She had lost any concept of where she was. And they're so assertive and complete in how they claim me. They had coated her skin with strange botanical oils and creams, while they all pushed into the middle of her to the rhythm of their chants. She felt a climax overtake her again as their grunting chorus raised. The little men were connected and unified somehow- she knew this definitively as they began to spurt into her in final grand thrusts. She had found a new pleasure in feeling the bulb in her mouth tremble and pulse as she swallowed. She sucked to the rhythm they made, lost in her surrender, learning this new body language.

Belney's eyes fluttered open. In the dark she saw a goblin near her face regarding her intently. How much of the night had passed? She was curled on her side. A leather pack had been placed under her head. She noticed his long thin nose. One of the others had a wart on the side of his nose, but not this guy. His narrow eyes were thin black pools. He spoke, and when he did she recognized the words. He was speaking the common tongue!

You human.

Human filly.

He touched her forehead once. He used the word for young female horse. How appropriate.

We Lu'Kaah. Call us Lu'Kaah. He stretched out the rasp of the word in a guttural hiss.

She blinked. He was speaking to her. This was a new development. Something rose in her.

Call us- said the goblin.

Lu'Kaah- she said quietly. She still felt cradled in warm body tingles, even laying on the ground.

Lu'Kaaaah- she tried again.

She didn't want to say her old name. It felt long gone.

We go now. Run in night. Is better.

Belney rose awkwardly to stand. Dripping fluid rolled down both legs. It had sure felt like a lot, she remembered. A goblin's fingers from behind her slid up the wet trail. If he reached up he could he could slip fingers into her as she stood, which he did, briefly. He smiled that weird goblin half smile, looking around at his brothers packing their things. He took a moment to savor their ownership. She rolled her head around in a slow circle, strangely tolerant of the intrusive fondling. She wasn't being whipped, at least. She arched her back. She had turned some corner in her acceptance of her bondage. She was theirs to use. That was all. She stretched each leg slowly against the protruding cave wall. How could she see? There must be some small moonlight or something. Does goblin semen enhance night vision? Goddess please let her arms be released soon. She dropped to her knees at a small yank of the leash for pack loading. She was a mule. No, a filly. With cum still leaking out of her. With an ass slap she rose mechanically. She tried to feel something other than an even detachment. Stepping out into the cold, the challenge of moving in the dark occupied her immediately.

___________________________________________________________________

Lenya and Tholeaus did not take long in finding the first bare footprint of their friend, and they followed as quickly as they could. She had gone back toward where they met the caravan for a while, even past the site of their attack. As the trail moved away from the river, her tracks turned upslope. They had just started on this new course when they were overtaken by the mounted riders.

Tholeaus! Lenya! Here you are!

Constable Wilenden boomed down at them. The ranger rode up alongside and swiftly dismounted, assessing them with a sweep of his eyes. He was tall and lean with the weathered face you'd expect from a ranger of the Alliance. He knelt down at the tracks they were following. There weren't clear prints to be seen, but the scuffs and indentations told a story for those with eyes trained to see.

She was stumbling by this time, He said softly. His eyes followed her expected path toward a line of trees.

Constable, I'll continue on foot with these two and one more of yours. If he could follow us with two horses while we track.

He pointed at a fellow named Brinn, a craftsman of leather and wood in town. A man known for crafting fine bows, straight arrows, and for marrying a war widow from the southlands who appeared in town one day.

Perhaps you could sweep around with the rest toward the East Terrashaw road, That seems like the goblin's most likely route to break through to the plains. We'll meet where it forks with the Barren Hills road before the sun meets the trees. If we don't make it to rendesvous, we'll meet back in town tomorrow.

The Ranger's tone carried the authority of many campaigns and pursuits. The constable cast a final baleful glance toward Lenya and Tholeaus.

Best believe you'll be hearing from me when this is over, Goddess watch you.

And he turned with his riders and they clattered off swiftly and were gone.

The ranger turned back toward the two. his voice quieter now.

My is name is Fennis. You've tracked your friend this far. Let us keep pulling the string.

They moved swiftly. Lenya leading, with Tholeaus and Fennis close behind. Brinn led two horses some few paces behind, having to coax them along a pathless climb that grew steeper as they went. And then Goblin tracks, going here and there. Confusing. The crew easily followed tracks up to the partially hidden cave mouth. They stopped. Lenya shuddered. Imagining her friend arriving here. How could she have just run right back to them? What terrible spell was she under? Was she gravely hurt now? Dead?

Fennis and Tholeaus entered together. Swords drawn. Fennis keen to avoid the goblin traps and snares he knew they were capable of.

Touch nothing. Stay close.

Maybe they wouldn't have taken the time for traps. They must've known pursuit would be swift. He couldn't see much. The floor of the cave was rock slab, giving no clues. It opened up into a fair chamber before tapering down into darkness. There was the smell. Goblin smell lingered just a little.

Brinn entered then, Lenya behind. He carried a quickly improvised torch of a thin pine branch coated with wax.

Good man, said Fennis.

With the new light, they saw the ashes of a small fire in a flattish area. It would've been smoky, poorly vented. That was all. There was nothing else to see. Fennis, taking the little flame and cradling it with a cupped palm, crept low with the flame in expanding circles. As he did so he commented.

No spilling of blood in here. They cleaned it up when they left. Which way would they have gone? There are no known goblin lairs within three days march, by foot. If they head up into the Firekept mountains they'll be heading into the cold, and likely away from home. if they cut west, they'll cross through the plains before they reach the Guellieshe, which might be familiar land. No telling if they're marsh goblins or mountain goblins or what.

Let's get on their trail. it's well past high-sun.

With the visit to the cave, Lenya felt a creeping dread rising in her chest. Her friend had been there. Where she had stood. She felt it. With them. What did they want with her? She wasn't a warrior with a string of goblin heads on her shed wall. She was a singer. A dancer. I got her into this, Lenya thought. I've got to get her back! If I have to walk to the ends of the five kingdoms. I won't go back without her.

Lenya's sense of mission, driven by guilt, had crystalized, by the time the four exited the cave into the bright afternoon. Fennis was puzzling out the tracks. The four group descended down a hillside of Live oaks and Laurel trees, then began to climb up the edge of a narrow valley.

We could ride double on the horses, Fennis suggested, looking ahead at mild stretch.

Lenya chose Fennis' horse, and as they trotted along, eyes on the trail ahead, Lenya asked about goblins. Fennis chose his words with care.

We don't know why goblins capture people, we just know they do. It's easy to say they're evil monsters and be done with it. They've been cleared completely from the Western steppes, where they were once as thick as frogs in a spring meadow. Then you see the weapons they craft. They're not stupid by any stretch..

Yes but what happens to the people they capture? Lenya asked quietly.

I think they're mostly not seen again. Or they're rescued in time, before they're completely spirited away. There's stories from the wild East of goblins riding captive women slaves into battle. Mounted on the women's shoulders. I haven't seen that. I don't know how it could be possible.

Fennis trailed off. Why had he added that? He hadn't meant to. He damn sure wouldn't tell her the worst he'd heard.

It was then that the trail of the goblins and the woman seemed to cut steeply uphill. Had they climbed to avoid detection? Fennis and Lenya dismounted. Tholeaus and Brinn followed suit. They looked up the steep hill. The horses weren't going up that. Fennis spoke first.

We could hobble the horses here, and come back to them at nightfall. Or, if you're up for it Brinn, you could ride up to meet the constable at the rendezvous and give them an update. It's quite possible these fuckers will choose their route to prevent mounted pursuit, at least for now.

I can do that, Ranger. Brinn said after a moment. Be safe. Goddess guide you.

The three quickly began to climb. After ten minutes, the trail evened out. After another ten, Lenya hit the trip-wire.

It was horsehair twine, pulled tight and strong, at ankle level between two trees. She had just happened to take the lead, excited by a clear track Belney had left. When she tripped the wire, a pair of thin sharpened sticks sprung forward from low to the left. One glanced behind her. The other shot through her pants and caught her just above the knee. It was just a little puncture. The tiny simple spear dropped harmlessly to the ground. The three gathered together, catching their breath. All three now knew a little wee puncture from anything made by goblins was nothing to brush off lightly.

the three considered their options together wordlessly for a moment.

Fennis was aware that one of his new partners in rescue could possibly be in for a night of fever, and would need to be tied to somebody, in case the enemy dared another entrancing spell, or whatever it was. I mean, who the fuck knows with these goblins. How were they even sneaking around in this province anyway. And making captives of town maidens. Practically plucking them out of their beds.

Lenya was obsessively repeating in her mind that they needed to find their Belney. They must be close. Would she get what Belney got, the poison, from the little poke? Those fuckers. She needed to cut each of their green throats. To run her steel through them like soft apples. They still had an hour or so of light.