Monster Fucker Eliza Ch. 02

~Chapter 2

~Eliza

Incredulity twisted Eliza's features as she heard the opportunity the old man known as Brock, spoke off. Maybe, she'd misheard him, because there was no way in the seven hells, she was going to do wat they were proposing alone. Even hardened adventurers and the crazies known as slayers didn't do what he was proposing by themselves. And, those people had actual training when it came to slaying monsters. She was just the disowned daughter of a hag of a former adventurer.

She cleared her throat. Yeah, she'd probably just misheard him.

"Yes," Brock said, looking up at her with his cloudy beady little eyes inset into his prune like face, the tavern quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"Can you repeat what you just said Mr. Brock? I'm not quite certain what you mean," she said, taking a seat at the clean but aged bar, a somewhat hesitant smile on her freckled face.

He nodded, his wispy beard and eyelashes swaying with his movement," I can," he said," I along with the town of Hamel-shire would like to..."

"Just kill those damn goblins and bring my wife back!" One of the town's folk blurted, his voice full of anger and hatred.

Eliza quirked an eyebrow as she looked for the source. It wasn't hard, despite the tavern being full of what must have been every person in town, there were only about three dozen people not including her crammed into the homely tavern. Now, that she was looking at the haggard and humbly-dressed crowd, she noticed that excluding herself and the bar maiden there was only one other woman in the place, and she had to be pushing a hundred or something with how she seemed to be doing an impression of a drooling and desiccated corpse.

It wasn't that unusual given that she was in a small town's local tavern, but it seemed like the entire hamlet had shown up and brought grandma along, it meant...

"For too long have we suffered! We finally have a chance to stand up against that green-skinned bitch and her children!" The shouting villager added, his mud-spattered face reddening with each word," with her," he said, pointing a meaty finger at Eliza," we might finally have a chance." A few of the gathered people muttered in agreement, some slamming their mugs of ale into the table," we can take the fight to those ugly bastards," another villager added.

"Yeah, and get my dear Rebecca back," another added, standing up, his face a gaunt sharp featured mess with puffy red eyes.

"We never should have agreed to that damnable pact," the first man added, drawing more muttered and boisterous agreement.

"Now, Solomon," Brock started, turning his hunched-over body to face the now feverish crowd," we are not going to..." he attempted to say, but his words were rapidly subsumed by the town's folk increasing fervor.

Eliza watched, her mind utterly disbelieving what she was hearing while her face returned to its state of complete stoicism. These people were crazy, and she was going to get the hell out of town before she was wrangled into something, she was no way qualified for. She might have been broke but she wasn't batshit insane. She'd have a better chance of living in the capital, even with the arseholes after her. At least they weren't crazy enough to try and attack a goblin warren with torches and pitchforks.

~Gertrude

Gertrude did her best impression of a strut, plodding after the stuttering runt she knew as one of her many children as they made their way through the labyrinthine corridors of Blackthorn Keep. The decrepit tower and outlying ruins much like the forest it resided in was expansive, convoluted, and filled with more secrets than a bog hag's cunt, but it was home, and Gertrude rather liked the accursed place. Besides, it was better than the hole in the ground most goblin warrens were located, and as far-removed from the trash heap she was birthed into. Though, looking around the aging stone and moss-covered ruins, she may as well have lived in a trash heap, given how her children treated her home.

Half-rotten refuse tattered, and insect eaten furniture and other finery lay scattered about or heaped into piles brimming with questionable items, while the maddened squeals and squawks of her progeny mingled with the moans and cries of their breeding stock.

The entire affair disgusted her and as she made her way to the balcony overlooking the chaotic rabble on the keep's grounds with the moon full in the night sky, she was reminded of the reason she put up with it all. The tower like her children were just a means to an end, and it was one she'd trade all of them to obtain.

"As...as you c. can see m. matriarch," the stuttering runt said, once she'd stopped at the balcony. "there're o. only five," he added, pointing to the huddled and frightened group of haggard humans, that would be their twice-yearly infusion of breeding stock from the outlying villages.

She gave a small nod as her gaze fell upon the cowering humans as they were led to the breeding pens by her slightly less-stupid children. The humans were all female, fertile, and exactly more of what she needed. Using humans as breeding stock wasn't the most efficient of things; she'd have much more preferred females from the other goboid races such as orcs and ogres, but they were hard to find and it was much easier to subjugate a human village, than fight several orc or ogre clans at once. And, she wasn't even going to consider capturing female goblins, for obvious reasons, given her past. Besides, humans were a practical choice, all things considered, even though their fecundity was only half of an average female goboid, and she wasn't about to fuck the runts she gave birth to. After all, she did have some class and...

Seeing one of her new humans' trip, face first into the shit-filled mud of the keep's ground before immediately being swamped by her horny spawn, Gertrude was once more drawn to the matter at hand.

The stuttering fool was right, there was one female missing, and she knew which of the ballless villages it was. The stupid hamlet had always been rebellious when it came to their protection payment. Why the idiotic humans put such value in each other was utterly beyond her. Kin were just pieces on a board to be used to ensure one's goals were met, whether that goal was survival or conquest it didn't matter. Grandma Tuga had taught her that from the moment she could walk, and it had served her well. She'd just have to teach the foolish human hamlet the consequences of not taking the lesson to heart, she thought, a smile crossing her rounded face.

It was time for a little lesson, and it was one she'd gladly give.

~Lisa

Lisa, Tom's only child and no longer the only fertile female within the town of Hamel-shire slipped out the backdoor of her father's tavern, the devolving argument of the town meeting droning on behind her. It wasn't that she didn't care for what was probably the most important thing going on in her little neck of the world, but at the moment listening to a bunch of mostly middle-aged men discuss the possibility of attacking a goblin warren was arguably the least interesting thing she could spend her time doing. Besides, she had plans for the night, and with her father and most of the hamlet busy arguing she was free to indulge herself.

Skipping across the hamlet's muddy excuse for a town center like a giddy schoolgirl, she slipped into the third most visited place in the village, Miller's apothecary. The building much like every other building in Hamel-shire was made of stone, mud, wood, and plaster with a stone chimney on top of a triangular roof.

A bell tinkled as she slipped into the store, making sure to check that no one was following her. It was highly unlikely given the town's current mood, but Hamel-shire was a small place and one never knew who was watching.

Satisfied, she entered and like always the first thing to hit her senses besides the dizzying array of shelves filled with all manner of herbs, bottles full of weird fluids, and the building's dim lighting was the smell. It was damp, musty, and reminded her of a wet horse and damp hay. It wasn't the most pleasant scent but for some reason she'd always loved it. Maybe it was...

"Lisa," a hesitant voice stuttered, startling her.

She jumped with a squeak, then sighed, a smile crossing her freckled face as she saw the source. Like always the lanky, pale-skinned, and brown-haired shopkeeper's assistant caused her stomach to flutter in excitement.

"Jeremy," she beamed, bounding over to him as he came out of the shop's basement, her generous bosom straining the patchwork confines of her dress. She crashed into him, nearly sending them toppling down the basement's stairwell.

"Lisa, we can't..." he grunted, steadying the both of them on the stairwell.

"I've missed you," she cooed, looking up at him, her blue eyes meeting his and full of longing.

"We can't," he repeated, trying to break the spell of her gaze," what will... I..."

She shook her head, stepping up onto her tiptoes and silenced him with a kiss. Like always, his protests quieted like a sleeping babe and his chapped lips parted like a butterfly's wings. She drank him in, wanting to drown in his bookish and damp scent.

With great effort she broke the kiss, smiling as she looked into his green eyes," we have at least an hour or so before father notices that I'm gone, so let's have a little fun," she said, taking his soft and delicate hands between her calloused fingers.

"We..." He started," I..." He added, trying to look away from her and the freckled mounds of her cleavage.

She shook her head. She wasn't about to let him work himself into a knot with his worrying; she got enough of that from her old man. She pressed into him once more, pillowing her breasts onto his slender frame, whispering into his ears as she guided his fingers to her covered mound.

A shudder ran through his body as his digits felt the heat and growing dampness coming off her sex.

She moaned, feeling his finger graze her little bud. She was all-manner of hot and bothered.

"I want you," she cooed.

He shuddered once more as she engulfed more of his hand between her thighs. He nodded dumbly a moment later.

She smiled, and in a heartbeat, she was on her knees between his legs, looking up at the rapidly growing bulge in his breeches.

Like always Lisa wasn't much for foreplay given how little time she got to herself, so with deft fingers, she undid his belt, freed his manhood, and took him right on the basement stairs. He tasted of soap, salt, and his own sweet musk, and she loved every bit of it, bobbing her head up and down his shaft. Her mouth was a warm velvety tunnel and he moaned each time she bottomed out on his tool.

"Gods," he groaned as she drew herself up his smooth spittle slickened shaft, caressing the underside of his tool with her tongue. It was a treat seeing him shudder with pleasure each time she did this to him and she relished in it, dragging out the moment for all it was worth.

Another shudder ran through him as she drew her tongue up his frenulum, flicking his sensitive head before leaving his cock throbbing in the room's oppressive air.

Pearls of precum beaded from his spongy foreskin hugged tip.

Lisa licked her lips, looking into his eyes. He was close, from his panting, to his flushed face, to the cute way he closed his eyes whenever he was trying not to cum, and finally to the way his dick throbbed in tune to his breathing. It was something and she could have stayed watching him and loving him with her mouth till he filled her gut with his seed repeatedly. He deserved it for all the crap he got for being the bastard son of the hamlet's apothecary, but there was no time. They'd have time for that when they finally got married, today, however, she wanted something more. And, she wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Jeremy," she purred once he'd settled down.

"Yeah," he said, his usually calm voice still tinged with haggard breaths.

"I want you," she said," I want you to take me," she added, her voice a breathy coo, even though her insides were a roiling mess. She'd been planning on finally doing it with him during the summer festival, when the entire hamlet was passed out drunk, propriety be damned, but with the town busy in the tavern and her growing impatience she figured, this was as good as any time to finally feel something besides his fingers or his mouth inside her. She'd prepared for it, and it wasn't as if they wouldn't still be pure after they were done.

He looked at her blankly, then blinked as his mind finally comprehended what she'd said.

"We..." He started to protest as she also started to shake her head. "Your father... you can't get..."

"I want this Jeremy," she insisted," and this is different," she added, standing up before pressing herself into him, her hand grazing his tool as she whispered into his ears.

"Lisa," he said, his voice low and full of shock," this is..."

She nodded," I want this, and you're the only one I want it with," she whispered, pulling away from him as she walked backwards towards the store's counter.

"We can't. This is..."

"we can and you will," she said, turning around and presenting her bum to him. She was giddy with excitement and fluttering with a nervous energy. Jeremy was sweet with how much he wanted to protect her virtue given what happened to his mother and how he was generally treated about town, but this was...

"Okay," he finally relented, striding up to her.

She smiled looking at him, then gave him an incredulous look as he stopped, his face caught somewhere between shock and horror.

"What is..." She started to say, when a blood curdling scream tore through the air.

~Eliza

Eliza sighed, picking at the scraps of meat that remained after she'd devoured her meal. The tavern was still in a riot of shouts and muttered arguments. How the shouting match hadn't turned into a fist fight at this point was a question she was hoping would stay unanswered, but she figured it probably had something to do with the fact that all these people lived so close to each other in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Whatever the case though, she was ready to leave the shitty little town, no matter what they offered.

"Go fuck yourself, Tom," one of the villagers shouted," we should have just sent your daughter like we did with every other woman in town!"

"You better shut it, Henry," the barkeep retorted," or I swear I'll..."

Eliza once more tuned out the conversations, popping a knobby piece of meat into her mouth as her familiar idly watched with its blank-eyed stare.

She should have just slipped out like the barkeep's daughter did half an hour or so ago. It would have saved her from her growing headache, but she'd been hungry, and she'd always enjoyed watching a bit of drama unfold. Besides, she still needed to get paid and she wasn't about to leave without at least some sort of compensation. Then again...

The thought was barely formed in her mind, when the sound of something caught between a pig's squeal and a war-cry ripped through the air.

~Gertrude

Like locusts, Gertrude watched her ravenous children descend upon the tiny town as she sat astride her snarling black-furred mount, clad in nothing but her rings, a crudely fashioned leather brassiere, and loin cloth. Razing the hamlet to stick and mud with so many of her children might have been overkill, but the rebellious little village needed to be reminded who was in charge. And, besides the rabble of filth covered creatures she called children needed a good blooding if they were ever going to be more than fodder for her grand plans.

It also didn't hurt that her aggressive display of force would cull any notions of dissent from the other villages, the thought brought a smile to her face. She was like a queen squashing an insurrection within her growing kingdom, and nothing would stand in her way.

A shudder ran through her jiggly body as the realization dawned on her; she was a queen and soon enough the entire continent would know it. Her smile turned practically maddened as she settled in to watch the chaos of her spawn while they tore through the town and executed her wrath upon the foolish humans.

Closing her eyes to the outside stimulus, she plucked at the mental reins she'd bound to each of her ill-gotten spawn. Their minds, if one could call a bundle of barely restrained instincts a mind, were extensions of her will and like a glove she could slip into any of them without a thought. It was quite a feat trying to tether so many of them to something resembling a plan, but she wasn't a matriarch just for show and as grandma had always said," practice made perfect or as close to perfect as someone ever got."

A feminine cry rang through the now smoke-filled air as she slipped a bit of her consciousness into one of her particularly gnarly children.

The slathering boy smashed through the window of what appeared to be an apothecary, throwing himself into a pair of humans that appeared to have been in the middle of fucking. Squealing, her son crashed into the male, sending both of them to the ground. The male was rather cute, all things considered and from the size of his cock he'd make for a fun new toy.

A heartbeat later nearly two dozen more of her children poured into the store, subsuming the pair. They tore at them and would have done far worse if she hadn't imposed her will upon them the moment, they exposed the female's ample milky tits and hairy quim. It was far more taxing than she wanted to admit, but she reined them in, forcing them back onto the plan. They fought against her like rabid dogs but like the instinct driven creatures they were they eventually succumbed to a greater will and did as ordered, dragging the pair into the town center.

Exhaling a breath, she didn't even know she was holding, she set to return to passively observing the chaos, when she felt the sharp sting of several of her sons' threads snap in rapid succession. She winced, remembering why she never linked so many of them directly to her will, but she was a matriarch and if she wanted her plans to succeed she'd have to get used to the pain, because there would be more to come.

Steeling herself, she once more cast her mind into the fray and bristled with an almost feral rage at what she saw. A slender woman, dressed in commoner clothes, a plain but freckled face, and dirty blond hair tied into a ponytail slashed, bisecting, decapitating, and generally maiming any goblin that approached her, however, it wasn't the woman that stirred up the old hatreds, it was the sight of the accursed orb that floated next to the woman.

She snarled, adding her rising fury to the growing chaos, goading more of her children to converge upon the woman and her damnable familiar, and before she knew it she'd summoned nearly a hundred more of her ilk from the keep. They barreled into the pair, burying them in a mass of snarling filthy flesh.

A scream tore through the air and Gertrude was slammed back into her body as she realized she was the one screaming. She heaved, her breath heavy, her eyes bloodshot, and sweat beading down her brow. She'd almost lost herself and...

She shook her head, took a deep breath. She wasn't about to lose control of the situation and ruin everything because of that stupid orb and its vile mistress. Her mana was low, but there was enough to rein in the mob she'd suddenly unleashed before it got out of hand.

~Eliza

Well she was fucked, Eliza thought, once more finding herself naked and pinned underneath a mass of horny goblins. It was just like her luck; she should have just left the stupid hamlet the moment she found out about their stupid plan. Now, it was too late. She was already trapped in the middle of a bunch of hard drooling pricks and her familiar was nowhere to be found, for whatever good the useless piece of junk was good for.