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It was a delight and one she relished, dragging a finger along the overly engorged veins of his still rigid cock and hearing him whimper feebly. Long ago, he'd have thrashed, bucked, and roared like a maddened animal, but now though... He was nothing but a broken man, a lovely toy, and the sire of more than a dozen goblin litters. The thought brought a smile to her face as she rubbed her distended belly, feeling her quim once more moisten.
She could have stayed there forever, indulging herself, but alas, that couldn't happen. She was a matriarch and as the cowardly stuttering of one of her many sons reached her oversized ears she looked up, her yellow eyes flashing with irritation.
"Ma...matriarch," the boy stuttered, his rail-thin body quivering with each word.
"What is it?" She asked, her voice seething with annoyance as she looked down on the runt. She'd lost count of how many children she'd given birth to and how many they'd fathered from the women they'd captured and personally she didn't care. They were after all a means to an end and she could always birth more.
"We have a p...problem," he finally stuttered out finally.
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