Stump

When he walked through his front door, he saw her enormous green eyes were open and staring at him, awake and aware.

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Elowen stared at the hideous Goblin intently. She felt weak and achy and her throbbing head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. She was also dizzy and nauseous. Her mouth was dry as dust and tasted horrible. She wanted to move, to pick up a weapon of some sort, even though she knew the small creature wasn't an enemy.

She closed her mouth and tried to conjure up some saliva. It came slowly, and once it came, she swallowed several times to moisten her mouth and throat.

She could feel something was wrong with her. Besides the throbbing pain, her head felt strangely heavy and her thoughts seemed cloudy and scrambled. She closed her eyes and opened them again immediately... she had to keep him in sight. She didn't know why, she just knew she had to. She couldn't let him out of her sight.

The old Goblin was her anchor, her safety net... her life. She didn't know how or why, but she was absolutely certain that without him she'd die.

She saw him let out a sigh of relief and approach slowly.

"You're finally awake," the old Goblin rasped. "I didn't think you were going to make it."

She saw him touch the hilt of his dagger with a gnarled clawed finger.

"I almost sent you to the gods myself," he continued. "I didn't want to see you suffer with your spirit locked away inside your sleeping body forever."

His voice was low and gravelly, his throat sounding in constant need of clearing, but it was familiar and strangely comforting.

He knelt next to her, put a thin arm behind her shoulders and helped her recline on a pillow and a pile of furs against the wall then he held a cup of water to her lips. He'd taken good care of her, putting ointment on her skin to keep her from getting rashes. He'd even kept her lips moist and crack free.

She lifted a weak hand and tried to take the cup away from him but succeeded only in spilling water on herself. She dropped her hand and tried to gulp the water he offered but he held back, allowing her only small sips.

"Nice and slow, lass, nice and slow. If you drink too fast or too much, it'll make you sick and you'll just throw it back up," he said calmly. He had a nice voice. A voice she recognized. A voice that made her feel secure and cared for. No other living creature could ever say those words about Stump.

She felt a sense of safety at his touch. It brought memories of soothing gentleness during a time of nightmares and scorching fire.

"I'll make you some broth," he said. "You need to eat. You've lost too much weight."

He made her comfortable on the furs, as gentle and loving as doting parent, and then busied himself at a fat-bellied iron stove. He stoked the embers, added several logs and closed the grate. He'd trapped a fat rabbit that morning. He sliced the meat off the bone, cut it fine and put it in a pot filled with water along with some chopped carrots and onions he'd picked. He added a couple of pinches of salt from a small wooden box.

Elowen's mouth watered as the snug little cabin filled with the wonderful smell of rabbit soup.

Her eyes were heavy, she wanted to sleep, but not as much as she wanted the rabbit stew. Her stomach growled angrily as she waited.

The ugly old Goblin brought her a steaming bowl along with a deep wooden spoon and a bit of rag for a napkin. She tried to raise her hands to take it from him but she didn't have the strength to hold it.

He fed her as gently and patiently as a mother with her babe. He even dabbed her with the rag when she dribbled soup on her chin. When a few drops of soup fell on her chest, she noticed she was wearing a man's clothes, actually one of her sword master's tunics.

She looked around. Where was he?

She turned away and raised her hand weakly to block him when he lifted the spoon to her lips.

"Where's Sir Kyrill?" she rasped. She hadn't used her voice in weeks.

The old Goblin looked confused then realized she was asking about one of her companions from the hilltop battle.

He recounted everything he'd seen. It didn't take long. The battle had been short and deadly and no one else had made it.

He carefully set aside the soup bowl.

"I'm sorry," he said roughly, meaning it for the first time in his life.

She turned away from him, lay on her side on the furs, drew her long legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She stared into space for a few moments, and then her eyes closed and she was sound asleep.

Stump covered her and cleaned up, it was just after midday and he still had work to do. Winter would be there soon and he had to be prepared, especially since he now had another mouth to feed.

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A nightmare filled with fire and death woke Elowen in the middle of the night. It was pitch black and as quiet as a tomb. She sat up in a panic.

Where was he? Where was the old Goblin? She could hear him breathing nearby but she couldn't see him. She had to find him.

The full moon came out from behind some slow moving clouds and she saw him by its light as it filtered faintly through the windows. He was bundled up in a large brown fur on the small bed next to her. He was breathing slow and deep. His large nearly lipless mouth was open, revealing rows of sharp pointed yellow teeth.

She stared at him by the light of the moon for a few moments. He was so hideously ugly. His body was humped and twisted, his face was a thing of nightmare... bulging brown eyes, a wide slash of a mouth, sharp teeth that fit together like the jaws of a bear trap, flat upturned nose, wide nostrils and his scaly skin was a sickly shade of green gray.

Yet he'd cared for her, treated her wounds, and kept her warm and dry. She blushed at the knowledge that he'd cleaned her most intimate places. Places no other person besides her mother or her nurse had ever seen.

She shrugged and sighed with relief at the knowledge that he was right there next to her. She lay back down on her pile of furs and closed her eyes, concentrating on the old Goblin's slow regular breathing.

She slept.

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When Stump woke up at dawn the next day, he saw the young woman sitting up staring blankly at him. She seemed unaware of the world around her.

"Good morning," he rasped, still groggy from a full night's sleep.

He noticed her eyes were as blank and empty as they'd been on the day they'd first met.

He wondered what was going on. Yesterday, she'd been awake and aware of her surroundings. Her eyes had been vibrant with life and intelligence and now they were dull and stared uncomprehendingly at him.

When he got up to go to the privy, she tried to follow after him but didn't have the strength to stand so she dragged herself to a place where she could see him. He left the door open so she could see him do his business.

The privy was a small closet with a cleverly designed system that allowed water from the nearby fast flowing brook to wash away his waste downstream, rinsing the receptacle and refilling the tank with fresh water as it did so. There was another pipe leading to his kitchen area that allowed him to fill any container with fresh clear water as often as he wanted.

He'd paid a renowned Dwarf artificer a mountain of gold to invent it, build it and install it in his little cabin. The enchantments the old artificer used, allowed the system to run no matter how cold it was. It was especially useful during the winter months when temperatures dropped well below freezing.

With his back turned to her, he pulled a dangling cord and walked out of the small room, knowing his waste was being efficiently washed away. The wonders of magic and technology a small mound of gold could buy.

When he turned around, he saw her eyes were glued to him. She was sitting on the polished wooden floor of his cabin, trembling with cold. He could tell her underclothes were soiled so he coaxed her back to her furs and cleaned her up, changing her underclothes and dressing her in leather pants and tunic he'd made to fit her.

She laid there innocent and trusting, her beautiful green eyes following his every move.

He had stacks of hides and soft cured leathers so it hadn't been too hard to cut out several sets of clothes, patterned on her tunic and underthings... also based on the size she'd been when he met her. He'd also made her some pants, a set of calf length boots and even several sets of fur-lined winter clothes.

She'd lost a lot of weight over the past three weeks. Now, she was rail thin. He didn't like it.

He'd become intimately familiar with every single inch of her body, from the soles of her feet to the tips of her golden hair. He'd cleaned her when she soiled herself, bathed her, rubbed his homemade ointment on her skin and constantly made sure she was always warm, dry and comfortable.

He'd never been needed the way this young woman needed him. No other person in his long miserable life had ever depended on him for her every need the way she did.

Stump found he enjoyed being needed, even if she didn't know she needed him.

Taking care of her became so commonplace that he even stopped getting erections around her after the first week. That first week though, he drenched her with his sticky yellow cum almost every night. He uncovered her, masturbated over her and shot huge wads of yellow cum on her large round breasts. He'd spend minutes rubbing his thick yellow cum on her soft skin. He felt shame afterwards, but it didn't keep him from doing it again the next night. For some reason, his cum made the skin on her breasts and chest as soft and supple as a baby's.

Again, somewhat to his credit, he did stop after the first week.

He really thought she'd never wake up.

He even came up with a theory -- The blow to her head cracked her skull and bruised her brain, making it swell. Once the swelling went down, she'd go back to normal.

What a simple idea... and how stupid! How could he possibly even begin to know what was wrong with her? For all he knew, the gods were punishing her for some vague transgression.

It didn't matter. Now he needed to feed her well to put some meat back on her bones. Good thing hunting had been good this past summer. He had plenty of smoked meat, roots, greens and mushrooms to carry them both through most of the looming winter. There was also a small town about 15 miles away, if the need arose.

He had a hard time keeping her in bed and finally helped her shuffle to a large padded chair he'd built for her while she'd lain in a coma, dragged near wherever he happened to be. Satisfying her desperate need to always be near him was tiring and frustrating, but he didn't know how to take away that need.

At the end of the day, when it was finally time to fall wearily onto his bed for some much needed sleep, he had to fight her off as she tried to drag him down to her furs. Finally, he ended up lying so his face was at the edge of the bed where she could see him.

The last idea that flitted through his thoughts as he drifted off to sleep was that he'd need to build a bigger bed to accommodate the both of them so he wouldn't have to fight her off every night.

He smiled a toothy smile at the thought of falling asleep with his face squeezed between a pair of large pale breasts and a woman's arms around him every night. Wouldn't that be some shit?!

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Something woke Stump from a sound sleep.

He sat up and looked down, noticing the girl was sobbing quietly.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she said in a strangled voice. "I, I, I... my lord is dead, I'm as weak as a newborn kitten, I'm hungry, I'm thirsty and I've got to pee so bad it feels like I'm about to burst."

He stared at her for a beat. This was Elowen. Elowen before her brains were scrambled by a warhammer.

Her huge gold-flecked green eyes seemed to glow as the sky outside lightened.

"Come, let me show you how to work my magic privy," he said, getting up and leading the way to the small room at the back of his cabin.

Days then weeks passed. Elowen slowly recovered her strength and regained her lost weight. The leaves turned orange, red and yellow and littered the forest floor, leaving the trees bare and skeletal. Rain slushed the ground to mud and gradually fell in thick fluttering snowflakes. Winter was nearly there.

Stump had to deal with two versions of the young woman in his home. One was intelligent and aware of whom she was, she was Elowen, and the other was simple and sensitive yet hyper-focused on the world around her, he called her Gwen. She had two distinct personalities. Each day was different and he never knew who he was going to wake up to each morning. That was another thing... each personality might stay for a day or a week.

As soon as Elowen was able, she began to practice with her sword, shield and some of the other weapons Stump salvaged from the battle. She was ambidextrous and practiced graceful forms with both hands until she was drenched in sweat by mid morning each day, then she'd take an hour break and continue training. She regained her stamina and grew stronger and stronger as the days passed.

Stump watched her and marveled at her grace and skill. She was young to have such ability.

Gwen was way more work for him. She was sensitive and childlike. He had to teach her everything, from how to use the privy and clean herself, to how to feed and clothe herself. He even had to teach her to talk. She was simple and highly suggestible. She wasn't stupid or weak, she was as a child and since there was no one else, it fell to him to teach and care for her.

One thing both of her personalities had in common was their absolute obsession with him. Neither Elowen nor Gwen could let him out of her sight. Her anxiety escalated when he disappeared from her view.

She had an unfounded fear he would leave her or be abducted or injured. She was extremely hesitant to have him leave her sight.

He was forced to build a much larger bed because she didn't want to sleep on the floor. Before he built it, she would climb into his Goblin-sized bed and shiver with cold through the night as the lower half of her legs stuck out the bottom of the bed.

She didn't voice it, but she feared something would happen to him. When he was away from her for any period of time, she would grow depressed and suffer anxiety attacks, physical aches and pains, headaches, and would sometimes even vomit.

There was another problem. As her strength returned and she became more self-sufficient, Stump's lust returned with a vengeance. When Elowen was there, it took a serious exercise in willpower to curb his sexual cravings but he was able to do so. She was strong, intelligent and assertive. She was a warrior maiden of skill and authority. A Knight of the Radiant Order and her every word and action commanded respect.

Gwen's personality, however, was sweet and innocent. Ugly old Stump was her entire world. He was her teacher, her caregiver, her stability. She didn't fear him or think him ugly and deformed. She didn't judge him and she wasn't repelled by him in any way. To her, he looked the way he was supposed to.

As days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months different aspects of each personality bled into the other. If Gwen was pleased by something Stump said or did and he repeated it to Elowen she would react in a similar manner. It happened mainly with small things.

Stump became less and less inhibited around Gwen. To the point where he stopped tucking his enormous cock under his belt. He just let it bulge out his loose pants. He knew her eyes would be drawn to it.

Neither of them would ever forget the first time she'd truly noticed his enormous bulge. Gwen had stripped off her clothes to change her undergarments and stood facing him, gloriously naked in the middle of the cabin while he watched with glazed lustful eyes.

She looked into his bulging eyes and saw a strange desperate need in them then she saw him adjust himself. Her eyes were drawn down to his hands and stayed on his crotch, watching the bulging material pulse to the rapid beat of his heart.

Curious, she stepped closer, still naked, clothes forgotten. She dropped to her knees, bent forward slightly and reached out to gingerly touch the enormous bulge. Her proud breasts bounced and swayed as she moved and his eyes were glued to them with longing.

Gwen looked up into his face, as if waiting for approval.

Stump stayed still, trembling, then gave her a nearly imperceptible nod.

He wanted to see how far things would go.

He hadn't touched or been touched by a woman in a long, long time.

Her hand was gentle as she felt around his crotch using her sense of touch to try to figure out what caused the unsightly bulge. She could feel a series of bumps and knots on the thing bulging out his pants.

Stump closed his eyes as her exploring fingers gently slid up and down his shaft, tracing its contours and his mushroom-shaped glans. She hefted and gently squeezed each huge cum-filled testicle. He clenched his narrow ass and thrust himself forward into her hand when she gripped one of the knots on his shaft and squeezed it curiously.

Gwen was nervous and confused as she explored the grotesque old Goblin's crotch. Her body felt hot, she felt a strange pressure in her belly and her nipples hardened and ached. There was a strange tension in the room, as if something was about to happen and the world was holding its breath.

She sat back on her heels, the hard and unyielding wooden floor hurt her knees, and watched as the old Goblin lifted his large clawed hands to her breasts. Heat flared and radiated down her body at his touch. Her nipples reddened and hardened even more and bumps rose on her areola as his rough hands gently caressed her sensitive flesh.

She didn't try to understand it or try to stop it she just knew it felt good. She felt safe with him and didn't feel even a bit self-conscious at kneeling naked before him. She didn't find it odd that he stared at her all the time and that his pants bulged when he did so. It was just the way things were. As far as she was concerned, that was the only way they'd ever been.

She looked down at his hands. They were an odd shade of greenish gray, heavily wrinkled, knobby at the joints and much larger than they should be on such a small Goblin. The fingers were longer than a man's and tipped with sharp, inch-long yellow claws.

Those hands looked old and dangerous but they gently cupped her and caressed her soft skin, his fingertips occasionally tracing feather-light circles around her hard nipples. His yellow claws occasionally dimpled her skin as he used them to tease and arouse her. He'd done so before, some women got off on the knowledge that he could shred their skin with his long sharp nails.

When his claws teased her, she pushed herself against his hands and squeezed one of the knots on his bulge again. Whatever that thing was down there, it was so thick she could barely wrap her long hand around it.

Stump was in heaven. She wasn't just letting him touch her she was actively participating and reciprocating. Other than with the old woman who'd introduced him to sex, he'd never been with a willing woman... innocent, trusting, beautiful Gwen was more than willing.

He wondered if he was taking advantage of her and immediately dismissed the thought.

Fuck it!

He could tell she was excited from her body's reaction. Her breathing was rapid and erratic, a vein pulsed fast at her neck, her skin was flushed and pink and her nipples were hard and responsive to his feather-light touch. Her eyes were wide and dilated with excitement, her lips were open and moist and her body quivered with pent up fear and excitement.