Goblins' Mate Pt. 01

This felt like it would have been a worse experience.

Tizka blinked at him, and then giggled and shrugged.

"I can do this for you too~" she assured obliviously, and watched as the other goblin smiled and resumed her efforts.

She was rather masterful, slowly taking more of his length into her mouth, bit by bit, taking a bit more each time she bobbed down.

Her tongue caressed and rubbed the underside of his girth repeatedly, but every time she slid up, she attacked his glans with quick flickers, making him wince.

He occasionally glanced at Tizka, who seemed to be able to see better in the poor light of the early morning... she bit her lower lip, and with her free hand, started to touch herself, first groping her breasts, and then slowly working her hand down to her groin, circling her bud and gasping softly.

The other goblin soon dropped low enough the tip of Garrick's dick entered her throat, whereupon she gagged, slightly. However, beyond a few struggling slurps, she seemed to have little difficulty easing it into her throat, where her walls clenched and rippled with deliberate effort, either through powerful gulps or gentle murmurs, eager to stimulate him.

He sighed, precum dribbling from his tip down her gullet, the residue quickly lapped up once she drew her head back.

She slid all the way up to his tip, and then back down, once again letting out a small gag, but otherwise showed no discomfort.

If anything, her shadowy grin around his girth told him she was enjoying this. Enjoying how he throbbed in her throat, and perhaps the challenge he presented.

It was hard to see, but his eyes eventually adjusted, and he saw how her throat bulged considerably every time she dropped down, until her lips touched his root, tightening up in a firm suckle, the hand that had pumped his base sliding away to grip his hips for leverage, whilst her other hand continued to massage his balls.

Her throat was tight, and the way she breathed through her nose, loosening her throat to let the air through around his girth, proved uniquely stimulating, as her gullet relaxed and clenched to let her breathe.

However, she didn't waste time, and soon began bobbing her head up and down upon his girth, from root to tip, and quickly picked up speed.

She started twisting her lips about his member, spiralling up and down with the tight clasp of her lips lathering saliva deep into his girth.

The hand on his hip returned to his mast, pumping it whenever she had space to do so, sliding away whenever her lips dropped to her root, returning to give him a few slick strokes.

Between that, the twisting of her tight lips, the wild lapping of her tongue, and the masterful flexes of her gullet, he was drawing nearer to another climax. The damned nymphomaniac was too good at this.

His moans were coming thick and fast, and so were Tizka's, the lusty Goblin fingering herself so rapidly now, he could hear the slick, wet noises coming from between her legs.

Then, she loosed a high pitched whine and spasmed atop of him, cumming from her own fingers.

She calmed down by the time Garrick was driven over the edge, gasping harshly and bucking hard into the wet, warm mouth of the other sneaky goblin, cock throbbing with each pulse of seed.

The goblin realised, and did her best to keep her lips firmly planted onto the root of Garrick's cock, gulping each shot of seed greedily.

Once he was done, she slowly and tightly slid off his manhood, gliding off his tip painfully slowly, before popping free.

She crawled up further, and opened her mouth to show she had nothing in it; every drop had been consumed.

"Tasty~" she purred with a giggle.

"That looked fun~" Tizka agreed. "Now get before I tell Chief you got greedy."

The other goblin froze, and then let out a panicked squeak, extricating herself from the blankets and disappearing from the tent, leaving Tizka to shake her head.

"I know what she wants, but it would be bad if we did not let you rest enough."

"Hmph," Garrick muttered.

Tizka sighed, and slid off the bed, glancing up through a small 'window' in the tent.

"The sun is not even up yet. Well, I guess I can make use of this time," she said, as she sauntered over... and began unwrapping Garrick's restraints, though not entirely.

She loosened them enough for him to sit up, and did the same for his legs, so he could swing them around on the side.

He was unsteady at first, just over a day bound spread eagle enough to make him feel weak.

Part of him felt like trying to escape there and then, even trying to overpower Tizka... but he felt like he couldn't do that to her. As much as she was happy to violate him as the rest, she seemed genuinely nice and caring.

She once again brought him some food and some drink, which he accepted.

"I think you should see the rest of the village," she suggested. "Show you things."

He raised a brow at this; perhaps he could use it as an opportunity to observe the village, see any potential points of escape he could use.

"It'd be better than being tied to the bed all day," he said.

"Yes! It is fun to tie humans up for mating. But it must be so boring. Need other things to do!"

Her exuberance, and her apparent lack of awareness of how he felt about his present situation, a trait shared by her fellows, still confounded Garrick.

After he'd finished eating, able to use his own hands, Tizka set about untying him from the bed... but she bound his wrists together behind his back.

"Hey, what are you doing!?" he demanded.

"You might still run off. Chief said you could be completely untied after you mated with the hunters. And only if you behave," Tizka explained. She then looked at him sympathetically. "I do not want to let my Chief down."

The way Tizka spoke of this Chief sounded so reverent. He wondered just what they'd done for Tizka for the goblin to be so loyal.

"Fine... do I at least get clothes?" he muttered.

Tizka nodded enthusiastically, and pulled out his underwear and pants from the day he was caught from underneath the bed, and put them on him.

Shirtless was still better than nude.

With that, she held onto a rope bound to his wrists, and led him out of the tent. It felt humiliating, but at least the padding they'd used was still wrapped around his wrists, and nor did Tizka tie it too tightly. He felt like a prisoner, a slave perhaps, and they seemed to regard him as such, but at least they seemed to give some consideration to his comfort.

Only now did the orange rays of sunrise creep over the tops of the trees and bathe the encampment in shallow amber hues, lighting it up enough Garrick could make it out; he was being kept in a large tent down near one of the wooden walls, on one of the lowest elevations in the multi-level village, different areas built onto old stones that were already here or hillocks that varied the elevation, terrain somewhat familiar to him in parts of the forest on the other side of the river, though it was largely flat overall.

But here, they'd felled all the trees and uprooted most of the grass, making paths in the soil leading to other areas of the village, terraces they'd excavated and pits they'd dug, the excess soil forming berms around the base of the wall that ringed the village.

The highest point was where he'd been taken when he was first captured, and he didn't notice then the stakes with effigies made of animal bones around one of the tents there, whilst another had its entrance adorned with crossed spears and some sort of talismans. They were by far the largest of the tents, besides the one he stayed in.

Down in the largest pit, covered by a leather shade made of many tanned animal skins stitched together, numerous goblins were already awake, seemingly making food from a deer carcass and numerous picked berries. Other things they ground down into powders and made a sludgy paste. He had no idea what it could have tasted like.

The side wall of the pit appeared to have a tunnel dug out in one of its side walls, where he could just make out a crude wooden shelf covered in sacks. Most seemed empty.

Many turned their heads as Garrick was led through the camp by rope, smiling, giggling, chattering excitedly. Some licked their lips, others made provocative gestures at him.

He didn't know whether to feel flattered or humiliated; he was being led around like a prize slave to be gawked at, the goblins' behaviour not helping. But simultaneously, their behaviour made him feel... oddly desired.

He still wanted to not be a prisoner.

They passed among different tents and the occasional shack or hut made crudely out of wood and bark. They weren't exactly the most precise craftsmen. And yet, it all seemed competent enough, suitable for what they needed, and looking inside a few of the open ones, he saw various furniture; crudely made, but functional. Beds not unlike what he was bound to, along with mattresses made out of tanned animal hide filled with whatever stuffing they could get.

They even had crude candles, the roughly-shaped wax sticks still usable.

As imprecise as everything was, they had all they needed for a village to survive.

However, as he was led through the camp to both see its sights and be gawked at, he realised that not a single goblin around was male; every last member of the village was female.

Was that why they made him his mate? Where were all of their men? And children, for that matter...

And what was it about a curse?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of moaning, turning to witness a goblin performing oral on another, licking the other's snatch with lustful fervour.

He'd already seen their promiscuous nature with each other during his hellish mobbing yesterday, and this just confirmed they didn't need his presence to want to ravish each other.

But most remained clothed - or mostly clothed, as a number were content to leave one or both of their breasts exposed - and busy with duties around the enclave. That, or doing their own thing, like one goblin he witnessed carving effigies of some... thing, he did not recognise. A monster, but none he was familiar with. And of course, they all had their masks close, which all seemed unique and personalised.

They chattered away in their language, some traded objects of perceived value, played simple games with one another.

And the whole while, Tizka explained everything with gentle exuberance.

"That is where we keep the bones that Shaman doesn't want," she said, pointing to a tent with a pit dug in the middle of it, a few bones visible from Garrick's point of view. He didn't want to know why they kept bones, he didn't think it was for the same reason most others did.

Yet, despite the commotion his presence caused, despite all the happenings of general goblin life, Garrick couldn't shake this sense of... tension.

Some of the conversations carried uncertain tones. Smiles occasionally turned pensive, and some even looked at Garrick with a sense of hope.

But he didn't have the opportunity to ask questions, as he was led to another moderately sized tent, ducking down to enter it, finding a bed waiting for him. Several bedrolls, actually, all pushed together.

Around the room were racks with bows, spears and arrows, all bearing the same hallmarks of goblin craftsmanship. Several skulls of deers, boars, and even a single bear's skull, were strung up around the top sides of the tent's interior, trophies of successful hunts.

The floor was lined with animal skins as rugs, whilst more prized pelts were strung up along the walls on frames.

All these treated remains of animals, along with something else he couldn't identify, lent the room a strange musky aroma. Not unpleasant, but odd.

He kept glancing at the apex of the tent, where a crude flap was formed at the top, probably to let smoke out if they had a small fire inside. It was hard not to notice, with how close his head was to brushing against the ceiling. Normal tents were barely enough to stand in, most didn't have that much space.

For goblins, this was downright spacious.

"So, this is the hunters' tent," he surmised.

"Yes," Tizka answered. "They have the next right to your seed. They did catch you."

"Unintentionally," Garrick corrected tersely.

Tizka shrugged.

"They are also important members of the tribe. Everyone hunts when it is their turn, but the hunters are always ready to spend as long as it takes to catch our next meal."

She said a few words of reverence in her own tongue, and then turned to Garrick with a smile.

"They may be rowdy, but they will make you feel good!" she promised.

"Hmph," Garrick grunted. "I'm not your personal stud, I want to go home!"

"Not yet!" came another voice.

He turned around, and saw a petite goblin standing in the entrance way, hands on her hips. She had a fiery expression... and a familiar face.

He recognised her. She was one of the goblins that surrounded him when they first brought him to their village. She had paler skin compared to Tizka, and no marks or blemishes. The only tattoos or markings she bore were sharp crescents of blue below her eyes. Her large ears were even more obvious given she had a slimmer frame than most, though she still had that maturity to her. Her only attire were narrow strips of cloth over her bust and her crotch, leaving little to the imagination, but it was hard for Garrick to tear his eyes away from her fuming visage.

"They blame me for you wrecking our trap!" she accused. She adopted a mocking face and tone, and continued, "'oh, Girish is too dumb to be hunter! Oh, Girish cannot keep her things! Oh, Girish is only good for lewd stuff!' I can hunt too!"

"Maybe we should thank Girish," another Goblin said, taller than most, just under two thirds Garrick's own height. "She screws up, we get a mate~"

The newcomer wasn't quite as voluptuous as many of the goblins were, but she had an athletic build that Garrick found himself admiring. She had darker skin with shot-cropped hair, and marks all over her body that seemed like simplified depictions of animals, with fang tattoos above and below her mouth.

She oddly wore her mask over her crotch, carved into the crude visage of a wolf. Her bust was bare though, revealing one of her nipples had come dangerously close to being lost long ago, a shallow gash of a scar just above the nipple of her right breast. It wasn't enormous, but as large as his thumb was big enough, and just a little bit lower, and she wouldn't have much of a teat left that side.

"Nuh uh," yet another goblin announced, a third about Girish's height entering the tent. She had bright green skin and brown hair tied into a pony tail. She was curvy, a little less so than Tizka, but her areolae were quite broad. Her body was covered in twisting lines that followed her contours, the wending strokes flanked by dots. They ran along her limbs and up between her breasts, and one ringed her neck. "Mate or not, she screws up, she gets blame!"

Girish shot back in her own tongue, and the two began to bicker, echoing an exchange Garrick witnessed when he was first unmasked.

He then realised it was the same goblin who blamed Girish the first time.

"Girish, Yixko, must you always fight?" the tall goblin sighed.

The one that must have been Yixko shot the second a look of pleading insistence.

"Fiski, you know she is not skilled like us! She will make use lose hunts!"

Fiski seemed mildly amused.

"Girish will learn. Girish has skill. And thank you for answering in words the human can understand. It is rude to speak in goblintongue around not goblins."

She cast Girish a look, who responded with a sheepish expression of their own.

Garrick then heard a frustrated growl from outside.

"Ugh, yapping! Always yapping! It is good you yap here and not on hunts!" a fourth goblin remarked, barging past the gathered three. She was middling height between them, slender but curvy, with an olive green skin tone. She was covered in circles and dots, particularly around her softer parts, as if to accentuate them. She wore nothing at all, and Garrick could see her inner thighs were glistening with moisture.

She sauntered up to Garrick with a smirk and promptly groped his crotch, squeezing his genitals through his pants with a sense of ownership. It made Garrick blurt out a startled noise, flinching back, though he otherwise had no way to escape; his hands were still bound.

"Zayk, hogging is bad," Fiski chastised, but Zayk simply turned her head to stick her tongue out at the athletic goblin... all the while fondling Garrick's junk possessively, quickly coaxing some vigour into the length.

"You know how long since I had real cock? Too long. I want to get fat belly, dammit!"

"For fuck's sake, maybe slow down a bit!" Garrick barked, drawing Zayk's attention.

"No slow!" she said, shifting her hand to give his balls a good massage. "I will fuck you good, fast, hard!"

She glanced down and grinned at his growing erection, crouching a little to plant a wet smooch to the tip of his bulge, before running her tongue along the tent, unfazed with licking fabric.

It made Garrick gasp, as the other goblins shrugged and approached.

Tizka looked between them, having stayed silent as the four hunters effectively made their introductions.

"Where are the others?" she asked, prompting Garrick to shoot her a startled look.

"Others!?" he exclaimed. The idea that he was expected to knock these four up was crazy enough, but more?

"They are hunting. We are the lucky ones chosen," Fiski explained, nodding. "They will get their turn much later."

Garrick groaned, but the vigorous groping to his manhood was getting to him. Zayks' lecherous foreplay before his cock even left his pants had his body yearning for their attention.

"Oh well. Make him feel good~" Tizka said salaciously. "I will return later."

With that, she handed Zayk the rope leash, and left the tent humming a shrill tune.

Now he was alone with the four hunters, and they were eyeing him hungrily.

"Oh, forget whining," Yixko asserted, as she sauntered up to join Zayk, sliding her hand down Garrick's pants to press her warm palm to his erection. The act tugged his pants down a little, letting his tip peak out from the top of his pants, throbbing and needy.

Zayk took advantage and gave his glans a teasing lick, making Garrick flinch.

"Good taste~" Zayk praised.

Girish and Fiski soon flanked Garrick, the latter sliding her own hand down his pants in order to grope his rump, squeezing his cheeks possessively.

Girish instead started running her tongue up his spine, giggling and mumbling something in her language, the tone deeply salacious.

He gasped, and thought about fleeing, but there wasn't much chance of that in his position.

They gradually stripped themselves of any article of attire they had, including their masks, letting them freely grind their smooth bodies against his, short as they were.

He huffed as a pair of lips clasped tightly around his glans, a tongue rapidly waggling to his frenulum. It was Yixko, suckling firmly to his helm whilst Zayk fondled his balls, both gently pumping his length with a hand working in unison.

It was effective at getting Garrick particularly riled up.

Meanwhile, Girish and Fiski began fiddling with the knots that bound his wrists... and soon felt the ropes loosen.

"No tricks now," Fiski warned, though her tone was soft and playful. "You would not get far anyways."

He hated how right she was; if he attempted to run, he was sure to be caught, and despite their smaller stature and his own fitness... he was no fighter. He already knew they were deceptively strong.

They giggled, and Yixko popped his tip free of her mouth, moaning softly and licking her lips.