Invasion of the Bawdy Snatchers

Samuel blinked. "What?" He looked back down at her, and she flinched back with a squeak. "What do you mean? What-"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry!" She shook her head and waved her hands in front of her face. "I didn't know you could talk! It was a real shock, and-"

"No!" He looked down at himself. "Don't remember- Why wouldn't I remember-"

"What it's like to be unwed?" The goblin canted her head to the side. "...Because you've got a wife?" She pointed to his wrists. "You've got the bracelets and everything."

Samuel raised his hands and stared, bug-eyed, at his wrists. Two bracelets! Did that mean something?! He whipped about to look at some of the other men, but none of them seemed to have bracelets on! Were they all just bachelors? Had Hob been wearing bracelets? Was she lying? Her blathering had reduced his wards to tatters, Sam couldn't tell if she was telling the truth or not!

The goblin idly nibbled on a piece of spicebread as Sam gawked at his wrists, watching him the same way a child might watch a performer flounder during their act, wordless and enraptured. His panic was, after all, fascinating, and it was only when he rose from his seat that she spoke again. "Ah!" Or at least she opened her mouth to speak. Samuel had begun to run towards the door before she was able to actually say anything, and by the time she'd composed a thought, he had turned the corner and fled from sight.

Left by herself with a tab that Sam certainly wasn't going to pay, the goblin looked over her shoulder, shrugged, and helped herself to Samuel's half-finished cider.

= = =

Sam sprinted to the lodge, heart pounding in his chest. He had to return, had to get back before some green-skinned temptress caught him with a lie. His wards were down; he was all but helpless if even one stopped him. And what if he did have a wife? She'd be in danger, unwarded against the kind of spellbinding lies that the goblins told! He shook his head and burst into the lodge, sending the chief flinching from her stones in shock. "Samuel! What in the world-"

"My wards, they're done for. The inn's filled up with them, Hob's got one telling him he's married to her-" He leaned against the doorframe, panting. He raised a wrist and pointed weakly to it. "And- My bracelets-"

The chief blinked at him.

"Do they mean...I'm married?"

Then her eyes went wide. She reached a hand out with a gasp. "Your wife!" His panic returned, stronger than before. "You have to- Quick, hurry! You have to go and see if she's alright! Sam-" She looked to her stones for a moment, then back to Samuel. "If she's not there, come right back! But- Oh, pity's sake, I'm so sorry, the thought hadn't occurred to me-"

Sam was back on the streets not a moment later. He could remember where he lived, at least. Oh, how he hoped everything was all right! He just needed to be sure, and-

And there he was, right at his humble cottage's front door, hand on the knob, afraid to turn it. Should've been there first thing when he got back, should've warded her before anyone else! Sam cursed his feckless self, his miserable luck, everything that conspired against him now when it mattered most. He threw open the door, and-

Two eyes locked on his, wide with shock. The room was empty, save for her. Short, curvaceous, green skin, and a small, silver band resting just above her pointed ears.

She was safe! His wife was safe!

"Oh, darling, I'm so sorry!" Samuel fell to his knees before her, pulling her into a hug. His lips fell upon her in a frantic storm of kisses, and even if his heart still beat out a frantic staccato, its tempo had finally begun to slow. "Sweetheart, I should've been here as soon as I returned-"

"Whuh-" She was just about stunned silent, stiff in his arms. "I- Buh-"

"There's a goblin queen ready to make her way into town," he finally gasped, slumping against her as exhaustion overtook him. "Her magic- It emboldens the others, makes it easier for them to deceive humans. I'm so sorry, I should've been here to ward you against what they could've done -- forgot my own wife -- but I simply-"

His wife blinked again before her lips curled into a wide, knowing smile. Her arms draped around his neck, and she leaned up to press a kiss to Samuel's cheek. "Oh, darling." She purred. "You're the sweetest husband a girl could ever ask for, but your dear Gwenevere is fine. You need to relax."

Tension seemed to bleed from him as Gwen pressed another kiss to his mouth, and it left him loose and boneless against her. "I should've been here. I'm sorry, Gwen-" He murmured into her mouth before she finally silenced him.

She flicked a fingertip, and the front door shut. Another airy swoop raised Samuel to his feet with Gwen in his arms. "There's absolutely nothing to worry about, dear. At least, not as long as my husband is here to protect me. And you wouldn't dream of straying from my side when there are such tempting threats out there, would you?" She batted her eyelashes up at him, lower lip seeming to quiver with innocent fright. "Who knows what they'd do to me! Or to you! Oh, darling!" She threw her arms around him once more. "We're going to bed, and we're not getting out until daybreak tomorrow! I won't get a moment's sleep if I don't have my husband's arms around me!"

She tugged his head down for a longer, deeper kiss. "And you aren't going anywhere until I've firmly reminded you why you chose me as your bride."

Sam carried Gwen to the bedroom as if he were puppeted, spellbound and sluggish. It was just the fatigue catching up with him, of course, but he was still grateful when Gwen set him off balance with a shift of her weight in his arms. It sent the two of them sprawling out on the bed, and she crawled atop of him not long after, giggling all the while. Her little hands deftly undid the fasteners holding his inquisitor's uniform on, and as soon as it was off? She'd mashed her chest up against his, wriggling and writhing on top of him.

"Is this your latest flight of fancy, darling?" Gwenevere cooed, straddling his hips and grinding hers down against him. "A goblin raid against the village? Any excuse to come home and be the big, strong hero for your wife, mm? C'mere, love." She shifted atop him, reaching a hand down to ease her undergarments to the side and pop his trousers open. "Be honest, dear. There's nothing really going on, is there?"

Samuel panted as he watched Gwenevere's hand wrap around his twitching shaft. She lined up his cockhead with the dripping slit of her sex, and...and he shook his head. "No, it's the truth-"

She dropped her hips down, and his eyes rolled back in delirious pleasure. Her cunt was exquisite, the kind that robbed him of thought and reason so wonderfully that he wondered how he ever managed to pull out. Hot, tight, wet, almost suckling on his cock as she bounced gently on his lap. Her voice was sweet as honey, and it poured from her lips. "Darling." She cupped his cheek and kissed him once more. "Does anyone else know about this little incident you've invented?"

Sam couldn't really talk, but he managed his best. For his wife. "Th' chief. Thass it."

Gwen quirked a brow. "The chief- Oh!" Her eyes sparkled with delight. "Morrigan! Mm, well." She kissed him again and brought her hips down in a loud, wet slap of pleasure against his lap. Her cunt clenched down, and Sam lost himself in the sensation. "It's a good thing that this little goblin issue is just something you made up, because it'd be disastrous if they got to me." She cupped his cheek and smiled down at him sweetly. "And not just because you love your wife and want to see her be safe."

She gave her hips a twist and purred. "Because," she continued, "you'd never get to feel me do this again."

Sam blinked up at her as Gwen sat down on his lap, taking his full length into her. It felt wonderful, of course, but not anything extraordinary. Then his eyes went wide and rolled back.

Gwen giggled down at him as he bucked his hips up, but there wasn't much else he could do in response. Not when her cunt seemed to grip him and milk him. If before he had felt something like suction, now there actually was some kind of wet, suckling hole latched onto his cockhead. And her sex seemed to tighten and roll along his length, cinching at the bottom and stroking up his shaft before releasing and repeating its wonderful circuit. Gwenevere just gave a happy little wiggle on his lap, wringing his cock without so much as a bounce.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Gwen cooed, kissing his forehead and patting his cheek. "You always get so stupid when you're in my honey-hole, but you like being stupid, don't you? And you know that when we finally have children, they'll be clever little daughters like their mother." She gave another wiggle of wide, plush hips...and a daring bounce of her derriere on top of him. The way her cunt suckled and slurped at his cock meant he couldn't truly focus on her words, but Gwen didn't seem to mind.

If anything, she encouraged his straying attentions.

"I need you to listen to me, darling. Listen to me carefully." Gwen implored him, staring into his eyes even as she wrung his stiff, throbbing manhood for every drop it had. "You know what you said? Earlier? About retiring your post?" Before he could voice his confusion, she silenced him with a kiss, a roll of her hips, a hot, suckling clench of her sex around him. When she pulled back, Sam was breathing heavier, his eyes were clouded with lust. "I want you to know that I'm so proud of you for handing things over to the, ah...chief. It was so brave of you, and there are just a few things I want to go over now that you'll be living as my househusband."

"Mm. I think it goes without saying, but I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands off you," she purred, laying down atop him with a smile. Pull a blanket over them, and it'd look no different from a lover's embrace, a man and a woman nuzzled up close and enjoying their commingling heat. But just below the waistline, she was staining his cock with her scent, coating him in her pheromones and addicting his body to hers. A loud, wet squelch found its accompaniment in Samuel's shameless groaning, and Gwenevere licked her lips in delight.

"Earlier you said you'd want to get up around noon, but that's far too early, I think! After all, how am I to milk you dry every day if you're wriggling out of bed? I'm going to feed you, bathe you, pamper you. And you know how I've been practicing magic, yes? Because I'm the village's enchantress?" She kissed him again, even if he was too far gone to doubt her without it. "It's so sweet of you to volunteer for my practice. I don't know how I managed to find a husband as sweetly obedient as you, but I thank my lucky star every day that I did!"

Gwenevere wriggled her hips once more, and the steady, rhythmic suck of her cunt around him only grew faster. Her juices were leaking down from the root of his cock, seeping into the skin of his sack. "I've already had so many naughty girls coming to me asking me to ensure their husbands measure up. You'll probably end up with a prick sculpted to perfection, the kind of thick, throbbing tool that most men could only dream of having. And a pair of fat, heavy balls packed full of seed to plant in my womb. No doubt about it, you'll be a dumb, sexy stud now that you've given up your job."

Samuel gurgled some vague expression of adoration and pleasure, and Gwen perked up at it.

"Really? Right now? But darling, you haven't even cum yet!" She brought a dainty hand in front of her mouth, wide-eyed and scandalized.

"Whurh?"

"Well, if you insist! So daring!" Gwen sat up on his lap once more, but this time she seemed to be concentrating on something. She raised a hand and traced a looping, glowing whorl in the air, one Samuel found himself following with his eyes. "I know you wanted to volunteer your body for my studies, but I never thought you'd be a client of mine. Still, if you really want me to bloat your cock up even fatter, who am I to tell you 'no?'"

The milking clench and stroke of her sex suddenly stopped, and Samuel felt some tiny pang of disappointment in his gut. She was still hot, wet, and tight, but there was a relaxing mindlessness in just laying back and letting her ride him, fuck-

The debilitating suckle of her sex returned, harder than ever. The grip was tighter, the strokes were longer, and her cunt was getting hotter. Sam was gasping in seconds, but soon his eyes crossed in shameless ecstasy. Every clench seemed to wrap more cock in hot, velvety pleasure. He couldn't quite process it, but Sam's cock was getting longer, and it felt incredible. That's why he was all too happy to debase himself for Gwenevere's amusement.

She cupped his cheek and snickered as his back arched in some pathetic attempt at coping with the mind-numbing pleasure flooding through him. Her voice was sweeter than honey as she crooned down to Sam. "Darling, could you tell me you're a stupid, fuck-drunk breeding stud?" Her words tinkled like chimes, and she cocked her head to the side adorably.

"Imma-" He gasped and grunted, eyelids fluttering. "Stupih- fuck- stud-"

"A mindless brute tugged around by his fat, bloated fuckstick?"

He mumbled some vague attempt at repeating her words, but his cock felt too good!

"A brainless, cunt-whipped slave? Can you tell me that you're a brainless, cunt-whipped slave, dear?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak, and as if to shut him up preemptively, Gwen clenched down around him with merciless, carnal delight. The most he managed was a weak gurgle and something that sounded vaguely like "love you." She clicked her tongue and cooed with a condescending "Aw!" in response.

Then she reached down, grabbed the silver locket around his neck, and ripped it from its chain. Gwen turned it over in her hand, seemingly unimpressed, and tossed it over her shoulder. "Now, darling." She bit her lower lip and watched his eyes carefully, savoring his indulgent reverie.

"Cum."

Samuel's body obeyed her command instantly, and his back arched as his climax crashed down upon him. He pumped his load into her sex, flooding her womb with his seed and emptying every drop he had packed in his bloated balls in hot, thick splurts of cum. But even that first heavy wad of spunk was just a precursor to her sex milking him for every shot that followed. She controlled his mind, she controlled his body, she controlled his orgasm. Gwenevere cooed down at him, kissing him and nuzzling against his cheek as the steady suckle of her cunt around his cock reduced him to a mindless cum-dispenser, a mesmerized body that just happened to be attached to his fat, throbbing fuckrod. Clench, stroke, release, clench, stroke, release, each mindless spurt something she gently guided his body towards.

"You love to fill my womb up with your seed," she whispered in his ear. "But it always makes you so sleepy when you do. Stupid, sleepy breeding boy, can't help but fall asleep and obey your pretty little wife when she makes you cum. Stupid and sleepy, stupid and sleepy..."

Her words seemed to curl in his otherwise empty head, and soon Sam felt his eyelids drooping with lethargy. Everything she said was true. Everything she said was...

His eyes finally shut, and his breathing slowed. Sam fell asleep, and his wife Gwenevere hugged him close, soon to follow.

= = =

"Well, can't say I blame you," the chief sighed with a smile. "She's a handful. Hell, looking after Gwen alone's gonna be more of a challenge than the rest of the village, if you ask me!" Her eyes twinkled with delight, leaning against her desk.

"Isn't that the truth," Sam laughed. He scratched the back of his head bashfully, not quite able to look the chief in the eyes as his mind strayed to thoughts of Gwenevere's promises. "And apparently she's already expecting, so-"

"Ah!" The chief hopped up in her seat, her pointed ears twitching with excitement. "Sam, why didn't you say so! Oh, promise me you'll bring them over once they're born! I already know that Gwen's going to spoil them rotten, and you won't be able to do a thing if that's what she's decided." She thumped a hand over her chest proudly. "It'll be up to Auntie Morrigan to keep the little hellions in check! That's sort of an inquisitor's job, I'd say."

"Or something very much like it! Oh-" His smile faded, eyes glinting with steel. "I know it's not much of my business now that I've retired, but did you get in contact with-"

"Greensborough and Lukastown?" She eased back into her seat and dispelled his concerns with one lazy wave of her hand. "Managed to get ahold of someone yesterday evening. Told them it was all a false alarm, nothing to be worried about. Ha! A goblin queen." The chief shook her head and laughed. "Dunno what you were thinking. Everyone knows that they come in pairs. If you only saw one, it must've just been a goblin in a crown."

"Mm. I dunno what I was thinking, either." Sam shook his head. Almost put a lot of people in danger, making hasty reports like that. Thank goodness he had the chief to set him straight...and his wife to keep him occupied at home. "Oh-!" He laughed, shaking his head. "Goodness, it feels like I'm just forgetting one thing after another. My locket!"

The chief blinked at him.

"...You need it back? I figured that'd be passed on to whoever replaces me, so-"

"Ah! No, no." The chief shook her head and tapped a finger to her temple. "Don't use lockets anymore. Meant to tell you earlier, but we've got these now."

"Oh, ah..." He narrowed his eyes. "What would you call that, you think? A...band? Circlet?"

She shrugged. "Tiara. Diadem. Doesn't matter, really. Anyway, don't worry a hair on your head. We only really need one inquisitor around here, I think. Either way, you don't have to think about it."

Sam sank into his seat, nodding. "Mm. Not my job, as they say."

"Exactly!" She winked and adjusted her seat. The chief had always had such wide hips, and the human-sized furniture was just barely big enough to fit them. "I'll be fine here. You can trust me to protect you. Now, with all that said..." Her eyes locked on his, and her words poured into his mind. "You need to go home. You're so pent-up, and only your wife can relieve you."

Sam nodded again, rising to his feet and smiling. "Mmmm."