Of Girls and Goblins Ch. 01

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

The door to the tavern opened, bringing in a cold draft that made the lights in the common room flicker. A figure stood in the doorway. It was a naked girl. She looked to be no more than 20 winters old. The light from the fire turned her skin golden. There was no hair upon her sex. The small lips between her luscious thighs were completely bare. Few of the common folk had seen such grooming.

But it wasn't the girl's nakedness that frightened the tavern guests the most. A creature sat astride the girl's shoulders. Its face was hidden underneath a hood, but in the flickering lights, they could see its sharp teeth glimmer.

The girl had a harness around her head and a large bit between her teeth. Her arms were bound behind her back. Rings pierced both her nipples. Her large breasts were bound at the base, making them bulge outwards. It was an obscene display.

"Puck greets the humans," the creature said, as the naked girl carried him into the room. Other girls carrying similar creatures on their shoulders brought up the rear. "The goblins have traveled far and wish to spend the night at this fine ... establishment."

The tavern keep coldly observed the entourage from behind the bar. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked them. "Who are you creatures? Why have you bound these girls this way?"

"The fillies that carry the goblins are their trusted beasts," the head goblin said. "The goblins have won them in honorable conquest. Puck be great hero. He has collected many mares for goblin-kind." He sniffed his long nose. "Puck smells many mares in this room. Worry not, kind human. Goblins come only to rest this night."

A young woman stood up. "I know of goblins," she said, as she was a bard and well versed in the lore of far away places. "They have no women of their own, so they travel the world gathering human women to use as beasts of burden and mothers for their goblin-spawn." She looked at the tavern keep. "You better watch your daughter. And keep you valuables hidden. These little pests are like magpies."

"I locked up my valuables the day you arrived," the tavern keep mumbled. He did not trust the bard, as she was a woman of ill repute, due to her chosen profession and her acid tongue.

The head goblin held up his hand. "Worry not, kind human," it said. "Goblins come not to take from humans. They have traveled far." He took out a pouch of gold and threw it to the tavern keep. "Please, bring the the goblins' mares to your stables, as they are tired from carrying Puck and his goblin band across the mountains."

"I'd advice you to either take the money or call upon the warden," the bard said. "These creatures may be small of stature, but they are said to be viscous."

The tavern keep took a coin from the pouch and bit down upon it, denting it with his teeth. "You can stay," he said to the goblins. "With the King's tax, I can't afford to refuse guests that pay this well."

The head goblin bowed its ugly head. "Puck thanks you," it said. "But before he gives his steed away, he extend a warning to the good folk here. These mares we ride belong to goblin-folk. Any man who interfere with them will incur the goblins' wrath."

The tavern keep beckoned his daughter. "Emily," he said. "Bring these ... fillies to the stables and see that they are taken care of"

The daughter looked at the goblins and the girls who carried them. "They are girls," she said. "Father, they are young girls, just like me. How can ... we should call upon the warden!"

The goblins sniggered among themselves. Curved knives hung from their belts. Some carried bows. A few had spears attached to their steeds. They were tiny as toddlers, but their malicious smiles gave the villagers pause.

The head goblin rode his steed towards the tavern keep's daughter. "Puck understands that the young filly has not seen a tame mare before," he said. "The wild filly should not worry. Mares are very happy in goblin tribe. Much happier than they would be in barbarous human cities, where humans are huddled together in slums, living in filth and sharing disease. Goblin-mares run proudly across the open planes and through the deep forests."

The goblin then dropped down from the shoulders of his steed, vanishing from the sight of most of the patrons, before reemerged as he climbed atop a chair. The other goblins also dismounted and joined their leader at his table. The tavern keep's daughter was left to herd the ridden girls out of the tavern and into the stable.

Once they reached the stables, the keep's daughter unbridled the girls and removed the bits from their mouths. She also tried to unbind their arms, but the knots where unlike any she had ever seen before, and she couldn't figure out how to untie them.

"Don't bother," one of the girls said. "The Goblins learned to tie rope from the Gordians. You won't get that open without a really sharp knife, and our masters wouldn't like it if you ruined their rope."

"I could free you," the young tavern wench, whose name was Emily, offered. "I could cut your ropes and help you escape."

"Where to?" a girl with a strange accent said. "My people are far away. I would never make it back on my own."

"And the goblins would burn down your tavern, enslave every girl in the village and track us all down within hours," another girl said. "Unless there is a small army here to deal with them, I wouldn't take my chances."

"How can they be so dangerous?" Emily asked. "They are all so little. I bet I could fight them. I would only need a long stick to hit them with."

The girls rolled their eyes. "I guess that is why they win so often," one of them said. "People underestimate them. But the goblins are cunning and they are ferocious like rats. We've carried them into battle. Many times I've been sure we would lose, but the goblins always pull through."

"Our enemies see us as victims, I guess," another said, "so they make sure not to hurt us. That makes it easy for the goblins, because they are so small and difficult to hit when they sit atop our shoulders."

"Aren't you victims?" Emily asked. "Don't you hope the goblins will lose one day, so that you can be set free."

"I've stopped hoping for that," the girl said. "And if we were ever set free, what would become of us? We would never escape the stigma of being former goblin-whores. The world isn't easy for a young woman with no family and a ruined reputation."

"I knew a girl who had taken part in a skirmish against the Amazonian warrior women," another girl said. "She said that the goblins found the Amazons easy to break, because they knew the tribe would not take them back after they had allowed themselves to be captured." She sighed. "I guess it isn't quite as bad for us."

"But bad enough," the first one said. "I dread to think how the people of my village would look at me if I came back." A tear rolled down her cheek. "...or my parents."

Emily felt her heart break for these girls. But the mention of Amazons made her realize something. These girls might be slaves, but they had traveled the world, seen things and shared stories with other captive girls. They had access to worlds that the illiterate Emily could only dream about from her secluded valley. All she had were the stories of drifters who came to the tavern, such as Annah the bard, who told Emily stories about the intrigue surrounding the royal court and sold Emily a brassiere to help her with her back pain. These girls could be the a great source of new information.

"Can you tell me about the Amazons?" Emily asked.

"Not really," the girl said. "They are warriors. Just like the goblins are all men, the Amazons are all women. But they don't take male slaves. All their slaves are female. Every few years, they find a strong male warrior and allow him to sleep with all their young maids, and then they banish him from their lands forever."

"Why do they take women as slaves?" Emily asked.

"I don't know," the girl said. "As I've heard, the Amazons are warriors and don't like doing domestic tasks themselves."

"I've heard they make their slaves sleep with them," another girl said.

"They have female sex slaves?" Emily said. "Ew! How does that work?"

The girls exchanged knowing glances among themselves. Emily found herself blushing. She didn't want to know too much about the types of intercourse these captive girls engaged in. She had heard the bard say that the goblins used human women to birth their children. It was all rather unsavory.

"As far as I know, the dark elves are the only people who take male slaves," one of the girls who had not spoken so far said. "Dark elves are both male and female, but their society is ruled by a queen."

"Maybe we should run to them," another said.

"That would be a bad idea," the first one responded. "They take women as slaves, too, and they treat their captives worse than the goblins. Much worse."

"Elves," Emily exclaimed, unable to hold back her enthusiasm. "I love elves. Stories of elves, I mean."

"We've seen elves," one of the girls said. "Not dark elves. They live far underground and the goblins are terrified of them, but we've traveled to see those that live in the forests many times."

"The elves trade with goblins?" Emily asked. "Why would elves associate with such evil, disgusting creatures?"

"Elves fear humans more than anything," the girl responded. "All forest-folk do. They fear the growing expansion of human cities and settlements. Goblins are nomadic, so they are less threatened, but the elves wish to keep the goblins around the woods to scare human farmers from settling down. There are elves not too far from this village you live in. If these farms became prosperous, the village could become a town, and then a small force of soldiers would be stationed here. The elves would probably not go as far as to hire the goblins to sack such a town, but they wouldn't shed any tears if that were to happen. They love their privacy, those elves."

"And goblins love their trinkets," another girl said. "Anything that is magical or just shiny. The elves call them magpies. They trade away their old heirlooms to the goblins for protection."

"Will you tell me about the elves who live here?" Emily said. "Please, I am dying to know."

The girls looked at each other. "Maybe," one of them said. "But first, you must do for us. Money has changed hands. We've had a long journey to get here. You were supposed to clean us and feed us. If you can do that, and maybe also play with us for a bit, then we will tell you all the stories you wanna know."

"What do you mean play?" Emily asked.

"When our masters leave us alone, we play with each other," the girl said. "You know, we ride upon each other's thighs and things. But you have two free hands. We rarely get to play with other girls who have the use of their hands."

Emily felt herself grow hot. The girls were moving closer towards her with expectant looks. Many of them had bound breasts that bulged out at her.

"I still don't understand what you mean," Emily said.

The girl sighed. "We want you to touch us," she said, "with your hands. Don't you ever touch yourself with your hands?"

Emily felt her cheeks burn. "Sometimes," she stammered. "Only when I herd sheep. That is the only time I get to be by myself."

"Lucky sheep," the girl said, "though I hope you don't touch them."

"The best thing about being a slave is the sisterhood," another girl said, and then she squatted down and peed right onto the stable floor, as if it was the most natural thing to do. "We share everything."

"Eeew," Emily said and jumped away. "I could have taken you to the outhouse."

"All of us?" the peeing girl asked, as the pee still streamed and splashed her legs. "That would take forever. We are too tired for that."

"Go get us water and food, then come back and clean our tired bodies and feed us," another girl said. "And after you have played with us, we will tell you stories about brave elven warriors and hunters that we have met, and then maybe you will want to play with yourself."

Emily did as she was asked. She gathered water from the well and food from the larder. When she returned to the stables, many of the girls had huddled together in the stalls. They sat in pairs. One girl would sit on her knees, sucking on the other girl's tits, while the second girl sat astride one of the first girl's thighs and furiously rubbed her cunt against it. It was almost a little bit sweet, if it wasn't so weird.

Most of the rest of the girls stood awaiting the food she brought. The rest hid in the corners of the stalls, while they peed or defecated. Emily put down bowls of vegetables that the girls could dip their heads into and eat from without assistance. And she used a knife to cut slices of apple that she had to feed directly into the girls' gaping mouths. It started to feel a lot like tending horses. The girls did not speak to her, while she worked. They just looked at her with grateful eyes. When she cleaned out their muck, it felt no different than doing it for the guests' horses.

Once all the girls had food, she wrung up a wet cloth and started wiping down their bodies, which were covered in sweat and dirt. This was weirder. It wasn't like brushing a horse, because a horse has all its private bits on its underside. The girls' nakedness was impossible to ignore. Their breasts poked out at her, and below those were their cunts and their round little asses. There's not part of the human body that isn't naughty in some way.

The last girl to get the wipe-down from Emily was the girl who had peed so immodestly earlier. She stared lewdly at Emily, while she worked. Her breasts weren't bound like some of the others' were, probably because they simply weren't large enough for the rope to hold them. Her breasts were small and perky. But she did have wide hips and a luxurious ass. Unlike the other girls, she had a tiny triangle of trimmed hair just above her cunt, though none on her cunt itself.

"You haven't wiped me between the legs," she told Emily.

Emily looked at her. She did not like the sound of the girl's voice, nor the way she was staring at her, but she obliged and started wiping the inside of the girl's thighs. The girl bent her legs and pressed her cunt against Emily's wet cloth. Emily immediately pulled back her hand.

"Please," the girl said. "It felt so good."

"Can't you do like those other girls?" Emily said, pointing at the girls who were humping each others' legs.

"We do that every night," the girl said. "I miss having the use of my hands." She turned her back to Emily. Her arms were tied in a cross on her back and pouches tied around her wrists covered up each of her hands. "Rub my cunt for me, and I will tell you everything you want to know about elves and whatever."

Another girl ran up to them. "Do me, too," she said.

Yet another girl began pressing up to Emily's side. Soon, she was surrounded. The girls pushed past each other and poked Emily with their breasts and pressed up against her dress with their cunts.

Emily was a lonely girl with few friends, and she really wanted to hear the girls' stories about elves, and therefore she relented to their demands. The girls were overjoyed. They bade Emily sit down with them on a pile of straw, and they presented their cunts to her in turn. Each of them wanted to be rubbed in a different way. The immodest pee-er wanted Emily to finger her from behind and to stick her fingers in her ass as well as her cunt. Another wanted Emily to just prod the little sensitive spot that she called a clit. Emily was almost touched to tears by a girl who didn't want to be played with at all, but just wanted Emily to hug her in her arms and pat her back.

There were a lot of girls in the stable and it took quite a while to get some of them to climax. Emily did not manage to get all of them. Several of them got tired of waiting and fell asleep on the straw laid out for them, or they managed to satisfy themselves by humping the other girls.

Once Emily had fingered all the girls who still wanted it, the girls kept their promise by telling her stories about elves. Emily sat down in the straw among the tired girls and listened to stories about handsome elven heroes. She pulled her hand out of her sleeve, so that it was inside her dress, and played with herself, as the girls topped each other by telling raunchier and raunchier stories. They giggled when Emily started to moan pleasurably, but Emily was not embarrassed. It was like the girl had said. There was a sisterhood between them. There was no reason to be ashamed.

The moment was ruined when a goblin creature stepped into the stable. Emily stood up immediately, pushed her arm through her sleeves and brushed off her dress.

The goblin glared at her. "Young filly having fun with goblin-fillies?" it asked.

"I ... I am just making sure they have all they need," Emily stammered.

The goblin smiled. "The fillies should get some sleep and rest those long legs of theirs, not mess around with village-filly." He walked over to one of the girls. "Get on your knees, mum," he said to her.

The girl complied and lowered herself onto her knees. The goblin started massaging her breast with one hand, while he used a cup to catch the milk that exuded from it.

"Why do you call her, mum?" Emily asked.

The goblin looked at her with a tilted head. "Because she is, of course," it said. "The other goblins say Gnald is sentimental, and that she is just a filly."

"But she is so young," Emily said. The girl ... or rather woman, as she was passed the age of a maid ... was much older than Emily, but she couldn't be more than 30 winters. "She can't be your mother."

"Ah, I see," the goblin said. "Humans have children. Goblins don't. We come out of womb much as we are. Gnald spend one year living with his mum, while elders teach him how to hunt and how to be a good goblin. Once Gnald was strong and knew the basics, he man, and he bound his mum's arms again ... and she become filly again ... mum no more."

"He said his first word after two weeks," the mother said. "When he was three weeks, he killed his first squirrel." She gave an awkward smile. "He may not be all I could have wished for in a son, but he is all I have."

"Once Gnald performs sufficiently heroic feat, tribe will let him father son," the goblin said. "Gnald is strong goblin, so Gnald thinks he should let mum birth Gnald's son. Mum has good womb. Good for goblins." He looked into the cup. "After all these years, mum still makes much milk." He held the cup up to Emily. "Filly, wants some?"

Emily backed away. "Eew! No!"

The goblin frowned at her. "Weird. Gnald thought humans drank their milk. Maybe fillies make milk just for goblins."

"Only babies drink milk," Emily said.

"Babies?" the goblin said. "Tiny humans? Weird! Why do humans grow so big, but remain so bad at fighting?" He took a sip from his cup. "Good milk. Mum, be good filly. Gnald does not ride her any more. She helps pull wagon now. But Gnald still binds her tits, braids her hair and shaves her body."

"How old does goblins grow?" Emily asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Old?" the goblin said. "Who knows? Goblins stay same. Puck be very old. Most goblins just die, because goblins fight a lot. Maybe that is why goblins fight so much, because if goblins didn't, there be too many goblins." He looked at his mother. "Gnald wants to give mum back to human-folk, when mum becomes too old. She's been good filly and good mum."

"Thank you, Gnald," his mother said. "You didn't tell me." Emily could see there was hope in her eyes.

"Gnald and mum talk about it in ten years or so," the goblin said. "Mum still has long to go." He looked back at Emily. "Say, you quite a pretty filly. Would you want to join goblin caravan?"