The vast desert expanse of the Shifting Sands unrolls beneath us like a tapestry spun from moonlight and shadow. Each galloping hoofbeat kicks up a burst of fine sand, the grains catching the spectral glow of the heavens before disappearing back into the darkness.

"Aldric," Melka shouts over the rhythmic drumming of the desert horse's hooves, "ya ain't looking too good."

I grunt in response, trying to muster some form of assurance. But all I manage is a barely audible "I'm... fine."

Stars litter the night sky, their cold twinkling distant and indifferent to the drama unfolding below. My muscles scream for relief, but it's my mind that is being uncooperative, hazed by the resurgence of the goblin pheromones that are unfortunately still in my system, despite having transformed to a male body. They don’t feel arousing, like they did when I was female. They just feel toxic. Everything feels distant, an echo of reality, the edges of my vision swimming.

"Nah, ya ain't," she retorts, her grip tightening around my waist. Her body is warm against my back, her heartbeat thumping a comforting rhythm against my spine. "Ya're losing too much blood, Tit-bitch."

I am aware of the wound on my side, an ugly gash that Krognar's morningstar had gifted me. It's a burning line of fire, and I can feel the warm stickiness of blood seeping into the coarse fabric of my stolen armor.

"There's a settlement," I wheeze, the words almost catching in my throat, "called Thistlecross. At the edge of the forest. We can rest there."

Melka squints into the dark expanse, her grip never wavering. "Ya sure they'll let me in?"

"You're with me," I reply, a hint of finality in my voice. "I'll handle it.”

She snorts, the sound half amusement, half concern. "I've got some gold," she says, "should be enough for a night at the inn. Maybe even some food.”

I grip her tightly to stabilize myself. The pheremones are twisting my mind, slowing my thoughts, painting the world into a haze.

"Tit-bitch," Melka's voice, softer now, pulls me from the mire of my thoughts. "Just hang on, okay? Just a little longer."

We press on into the night, the dark pines of Everbloom looming before us in the moonlight. Each passing moment feels like a battle, a brutal fight for clarity and control. But beneath it all, one thought remains constant, a beacon in the fog of my mind – I have to get home to Elara.

—

The call of a distant owl punctuates the quiet rustling of the wind in the trees as we approach the settlement, the looming wall of Thistlecross visible against the indigo sky. The palisades, solid logs sharpened at the top, stand guard against the unknown, the night beyond them a dark abyss. Torchlight flickers from a wooden tower, casting long, dancing shadows that seem to dance with the tune of the hushed whispers of the night.

"Who goes there?" comes a gruff voice from above as we approach the gates. Torchlight flares, illuminating two armored guards, their steel helms casting their faces in deep shadows. The sheen of the torchlight on their armor gives them an ominous air.

"Travelers seeking shelter," I manage, my voice barely more than a croak. My grip around Melka tightens involuntarily as my vision spins.

They hold their torches up, eyes narrowing as they look at Melka. She freezes, her little body tense beneath me.

“A goblin," one of the guards states flatly, his voice cold.

"She's with me," I say, "She's... she's my healer."

The guard's eyes flash with surprise. "Your healer?" he scoffs, "A goblin healer?"

I can feel Melka's fear, her small body trembling. She's as much a stranger to this world as I am to hers. The roles reversed now, with me the protector and her the protected. A strange twist of fate.

"She saved my life," I force the words out. When in doubt, a version of the truth is always the best defense. "Helped me escape the goblin horde in the desert. I was captured, and she... she freed me."

Silence. The only sound is the crackling of the torches and the distant hoot of the owl.

And then, "Wait..." one of the guards steps forward, his eyes squinting at me. “You... You're Aldric. Aldric the Great?"

The other guard turns to him, confused. "What are you--"

"I'd recognize him anywhere," the first guard interrupts, "He saved my nephew from that wyvern attack a year ago, near Eboncrest. The lad wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for him."

Recognition flickers in the second guard’s eyes. "Let them through,” he orders, his tone almost reverent, “Spread the word. The goblin female is under Aldric's protection. She's not to be harmed."

The gate groans as it is pushed open, revealing the warmly lit streets of Thistlecross. Melka relaxes visibly, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. She whispers a soft "thank ya, Aldric," her voice full of newfound respect.

They point us towards the Moonhaven Inn, a welcoming building with smoke curling up from its chimney into the star-studded sky.

The guard, a young man named Gareth, accompanies us through the darkened streets of Thistlecross, torchlight casting dancing shadows on the rough-hewn log walls. At the stables, a gangly boy approaches, wide-eyed as he takes in Melka's lithe desert horse.

"Be careful with him," Melka warns the boy, the normally gruff tones of her voice softening. She reaches up, her fingers running over the horse's snout. "He ain't like other horses." A fondness in her voice makes the phrase sound like a compliment. She pats the horse's flank. "And behave," she whispers conspiratorially, her lips close to the animal's ear. "No trying to mount any mares, ya randy git."

A sudden hoot of laughter escapes Gareth as he leads us towards the inn, the warm golden glow of its lantern-lit windows painting a picture of welcome against the moonlit night. The sign over the door creaks in the wind, proclaiming our destination as the 'Moonhaven Inn'.

Inside, the innkeeper, a stoop-shouldered man with age-spotted hands and a face weathered by decades of hard work, raises his eyebrows at our motley crew. Gareth explains our situation, his voice low and steady, his words cutting through the muffled hum of the inn's remaining patrons.

"One bed or two?" the innkeeper asks, his gaze flicking between Melka and me. His question hangs heavy in the room, a sudden awkward silence filling the space.

"Two," I answer without hesitation, my voice ringing clear and firm. Melka pulls out her coin pouch, her fingers fumbling as she counts out ten gold pieces. I feel a twinge of guilt - this seems like all she has.

Gareth interrupts, his hand landing on the counter. "No, they're guests of Thistlecross. This night's on the town, as well as food and bandages,” he tells the innkeeper, who starts to protest. But Gareth quickly silences him with something about 'the local levy and administrative duties.'

With a resigned huff, the innkeeper leads us up the winding staircase to a cozy room with two neatly made beds. The room smells of fresh linen and beeswax candles, a comforting blend that stands in stark contrast to the harsh desert air still clinging to my skin.

Melka looks around the room, her purple eyes wide with awe and unease, taking in the heavy wooden furniture and the thick, warm blankets. The world outside of Griznak Gobboree must seem like an entirely different universe to her, one filled with strange customs and imposingly tall people.

As we settle into the room, I can't help but notice the constant buzz of Thistlecross outside, the murmur of nighttime activities whispering through the window. People are still awake, the rhythm of the night an unfamiliar melody. The hush of voices, the clattering of a late-night wagon, the distant bark of a dog. It's a lullaby of sorts, one that sings of life, resilience, and the strange comfort of human civilization, a song I've longed to hear for too long.

The creak of the door signals the arrival of the inn’s maid, a mousy woman carrying a tray laden with food and bandages. The aroma hits me first, a deliciously rich and inviting scent of roasting meat and herbs. She sets the tray on the worn wooden table before quickly exiting, leaving Melka and me alone in the room.

"Get that shirt off, Aldric," Melka instructs, her eyes focused on the bandages. Her words are laced with authority, but there's a gentleness in her manner that speaks volumes about her feelings.

Feeling the ache of my battered muscles, I struggle to peel off the goblin leather armor. Melka steps in, her small but firm hands helping me, her green fingers against my taut skin highlighting the contrast of our two races. Her touch is oddly comforting, though a little too intimate for comfort.

"Quit your squirming," she reprimands, her lips curving into a playful smirk. "You ain't got no tits anymore. No need to be shy."

As she gets to work, her skilled hands cleaning and dressing my wounds, I can't help but wince at the sting of the antiseptic. She hushes me, her voice soothing despite its gruffness. "Humans ain't so bad," she murmurs, almost to herself, "not as bad as the gobbos said."

I snort at that, turning my gaze to meet hers. "Some humans are good, some not," I admit, memories of both kindness and cruelty filtering through my mind. "In Thuulk, the city I told you about, they are more accepting of different races. Smaller towns like these... they're often more suspicious."

Melka's fingers stop their ministrations, moving from the bandages to my arms, her touch light on my biceps. "Elara's a lucky woman," she muses, a cheeky glint in her purple eyes. "Got herself a man who's strong enough to kill a troll."

A bitter chuckle slips from my lips. "Not sure she'd see it that way," I confess. "Not after what I've been... Not after being Elise."

Her hand stills on my arm. "You got nothing to apologize for, Aldric," she insists firmly, her gaze serious. "What happened... it wasn't your fault. You survived. You fought. That's what matters."

Before I can respond, Melka turns her attention to the meal on the table. I follow her gaze, my stomach rumbling at the sight of the steaming stew, chunks of tender meat and root vegetables peeking through the thick, herby gravy. Alongside it is a jug of what smells like sweet berry wine and a fresh, crusty loaf of bread.

"Smells better'n goblin grub," Melka murmurs, her voice choked with emotion. "Damn, real food. Proper food." Without another word, she begins to wolf it down, her delight almost childlike as she savors each bite. The wine flows freely, her cup refilled multiple times, her cheeks slowly turning a deeper shade of green.

Seeing her happiness, something warm uncurls in my chest, a quiet joy at seeing her so content. The meal is delicious, the flavors rich and comforting, a taste of home. For a moment, I forget the aches and pains, the pheromone-induced haze in my mind. In that moment, it's just us, two unlikely companions sharing a meal and finding comfort in each other's company.

I watch as Melka finishes off her meal with a satisfied sigh, her eyes sparkling with an excitement I hadn't seen before.

Suddenly, dizziness crashes over me like a rogue wave, unexpected, swift, and brutal. I clutch onto the bedpost, vision blurring as my knees buckle beneath me. My stomach churns like an angry sea, the delightful meal we'd just consumed suddenly a leaden weight in my gut. "Shit," I rasp, wiping a clammy hand across my sweat-slick forehead.

Melka is by my side instantly, her small, firm hand steadying me. "Ya okay, Aldric?" Her gruff voice is laced with concern.

"No," I manage to gasp out, sucking in ragged breaths as another wave of nausea crashes over me. My skin feels hot, like I'm baking under the merciless sun of the desert. My heart hammers in my chest.

Something is definitely wrong.

Her purple eyes widen with realization and her fingers drum on her plump bottom lip. "Shit, Aldric... Ya know… I think it's the gobbo goo."

My feverish face darkens further, a heated blush staining my cheeks at the crude term. "Grokk's... sperm?" I stutter out, revolted. I had been hoping to never thinking about it again.

"Yeah," she nods, sitting back on her heels. "Look, goblin cum... it’s poisonous to human men. Nasty little side effect. Normally, it wouldn't matter 'cause they're fuckin' human women. Obviously. But ya drank two goddamn bellyfulls! I guess something stuck with ya when ya changed back. I’d ‘oped it would just be gone.”

I choke on nothing, the memory of the putrid taste making my stomach roil again. "How... how do I get rid of it?"

She rubs the back of her neck, her cheeks darkening a bit. "Well... I think… ya gotta get off."

"What?" My voice comes out as a strangled croak.

"Ya gotta jerk off, Aldric. Flush out the toxins. If ya don't, you'll be dyin’ soon enough. Yer skin’s turning all gray already.” Her voice is steady, matter-of-fact, but I can see the twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Or... we could just… fuck."

The heat in my cheeks flares up even more, and I stutter out a vehement, "No!" before I can even process her words.

She chuckles, her eyes twinkling with teasing mirth. "Alright, alright. Ya prude. Go behind that screen, and don't come out until ya come."

Her pun sends a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over me, but I don't argue. I'm feeling too damn awful to care about my dignity right now. I stumble behind the wooden panel, my heart pounding in my ears, the sour taste of shame on my tongue. Melka's teasing laughter fades into the background as I focus on the task at hand. So to speak.

But I can’t get hard.

The fabric of the screen presses into my back as I wrestle with my body, its refusal to obey as frustrating as it is unnerving. The taste of humiliation clings to my tongue, bitter and shameful, as my grip tightens on my cock. Elara, I think. My beautiful wife, her auburn hair cascading over her perfect breasts, her sapphire eyes sparkling with desire...

But the image is tainted, Grokk's monstrous face intruding on my fantasy, his 16-inch orange-tipped cock thrusting into Elise's face, into my face. A nauseating feeling spreads through me as my mind betrays me, the sensation of large breasts hanging heavy from my chest, the slickness between my legs...

No, no, no! I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head as if it could clear the images away. My hand is on my cock, it's my hand, my cock, but it feels foreign, alien, like a tool I don't quite know how to use.

I grapple with the unwanted memories, my cock a lifeless weight in my hands. The mirth in Melka's voice filters through the haze of my torment, cutting through the thick fog of desperation.

"Havin' trouble, Aldric?" she chuckles, though there's a touch of concern beneath the mirth. “Ye really will die if ye don’t get off. I watched a man once, they fucked ‘is wife right in front of ‘im. He got some on ‘im when he tried to help her… the man was dead the next morning. Lookin’ like a husk.”

Fear and frustration bubble up inside me, my knuckles white as my grip on my cock tightens. I try to ignore her, to block out the distracting sound of her voice. But the heat in my belly continues to rise, the toxins swirling in my veins, threatening to overtake me.

My chest tightens, and I feel a knot of despair twisting in my gut. I'm fighting a losing battle, my body rejecting me at every turn. Something in me feels broken, something I don't know how to fix.

"Let me help ya out, Tit-bitch." Melka's voice is low, sultry, a dangerous undercurrent running beneath her gruff exterior. "I've already seen ya get face-fucked, ya know."

Something inside me snaps. I stumble out from behind the screen, my cock limp in my hand, my body drenched in a cold sweat. The smirk on her face sends a jolt of anger through me, but it's a feeble flame against the engulfing dread. I slump onto my bed, the cool sheets a welcome reprieve against my overheated skin.

A warm glow paints the inn room, candlelight casting dancing shadows against the rough-hewn wooden walls. Melka, standing there, her green skin flickering under the dim light, holds my gaze. She's still sipping her wine, the same cheeky grin that has been plastered across her face for the last hour curling her thick lips. The cup leaves a shining imprint of her lips, a glistening streak on the rim.

Her purple eyes sparkle under the candlelight, reflecting the mischief in her smile. She's a bit tipsy, and so am I. The wine is not the finest, but it certainly does the job, loosening tongues and inhibitions. A sense of dread lingers at the back of my mind, but the curiosity and guilt I feel as I watch her is more potent, more immediate.

“Watch this, Tit-bitch,” she hums playfully, her upturned nose wrinkling in amusement. Her green fingers reach for the coiled leather top she’s wearing. It's a crude goblin garb, hardy and tough, constructed to withstand the harsh conditions of her desert lifestyle. Yet, as her fingers uncoil the garment, it reveals an elegance that belies its crude nature. It’s like a flower, unfurling its petals, gradually, one by one, to reveal the beauty beneath.

With each layer she peels away, her large breasts are slowly unveiled, the strain against her chest slowly receding, making room for them to breath, to expand. The sight leaves me breathless. Her big green breasts strain against the thin strip of cloth barely covering them. I swallow hard, my eyes unblinking as they drink in the view.

"Big for a gobbo-girl, eh?" She chuckles, an impish grin playing on her lips. Her short black curls bounce as she laughs, falling into her sparkling purple eyes. They glint with a fiery confidence, staring at me as if challenging me to look away.

I can't.

My gaze is involuntarily drawn to the leather britches hugging the contours of her lower body, and my brain buzzes with anticipation.

“Ya know, these things can be a bit tight sometimes…” she says with a wink, her fingers hooking around the edge of the material. “Takes some effort to get em’ off…”

She teases the fabric over the curves of her hips with a maddeningly slow pace, inch by inch exposing her undergarment, a simple crude goblin cloth that hugs her hips like a second skin. The sight is like a slap to my senses, the delicious curves of her ass demanding my full attention. My cock stirs, a low throb of heat blooming at the sight of her, like a beast sensing its mate. Guilt sears my insides, yet it does nothing to cool the arousal that hums in my veins.

As her britches slide down, her ass pops out in a delicious, provocative display. The sight of her lush, round buttocks, all goosebumps on cool green skin, is like a visual feast to my eyes. There’s a wild, earthy beauty to her - the jiggly bounce to her flesh, the dimpled imperfections that hint at a life lived in the wild. The sight has my heart drumming in my ears, a feral rhythm matching the heat flooding my veins.

"Ya think it’s wrong, eh?" she asks, her grin never leaving her face. “Don’t. Think of it as...” she pauses, searching for the words, “a... medical necessity.” Her giggling laughter fills the room, and it's contagious. But her face goes serious again. “Cuz it is.”

I think of Elara, and how I should be envisioning her, should be getting off thinking about her. Not Melka. But Melka is right here, right now. And Elara... she’s leagues away. I think Melka is my only chance.

"Yer lookin' at me funny," the goblin girl mumbles, her sparkly purple eyes shining with uncertainty all of a sudden.

I can hear the hurt in her voice, can see the moisture brimming in those fascinating eyes. It pulls at something within me.

"No one's ever looked at me like... like..." She trails off, her gaze dropping.

Her fingers nervously fiddle with the thin cloth band barely containing her abundant breasts.

"I'm not a monster too, am I, Aldric?” Her voice is a whisper, the question barely audible. The vulnerability in her eyes strikes a chord in my chest. Something tender and fierce. “A monster like the rest?”

“No.” Her scent hits me then, a fragrance that's earthy, but good. Wild, but good. Goblin, but good. “The furthest thing from it.”

Her eyes flick up to meet mine. She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Then touch me," she breathes, the command less demanding and more pleading. “Like you would touch your human wife.”

My heart thuds against my ribcage.

I feel a sense of protectiveness, a desire to reassure her. Slowly, almost reverently, my fingers ghost over her chest, feeling the band of cloth straining against her full, green breasts.

A low moan slips from her lips, her eyes fluttering closed. The sound wraps around my brain like a fog, pulling me in deeper. "Bet that'll do the trick, won't it?" she whispers, a hint of her old flirtatious self seeping back in.

Cupping her breasts, I marvel at the contrast. My large hands versus her petite figure. The feeling is exquisite, her green flesh radiating warmth. I can feel her heartbeat racing under my touch, the rhythmic thump vibrating against my fingers. Her skin is so much softer than I'd anticipated, like a ripe fruit. Everything about her is begging to be touched. She trembles as I explore her, her breasts yielding, virtually spilling out around the strip of cloth.

Her green skin glows in the dim light, highlighting the delicious swell of her breasts. There's a roughness to it, a texture that speaks of a life lived outdoors. Yet, it's the slight goosebumps peppering her skin that really gets me, a sure sign of her arousal.

My cock finally stirs in response, a slow throb of heat kindling in my lower belly. A maddening mix of desire and guilt consumes me. Elara’s face flashes in my mind, and for a moment, I wince.

She's too small, too vulnerable under my touch. It feels wrong, yet I can't stop. The sounds she makes, the soft, sensual moans filling the air, they pull me in. She's beautiful in a way I hadn't noticed before. Her smile is sweet, her eyes bright with a unique spark.

Her eyes are hypnotic, sparkling pools of liquid purple, glistening under the flickering lantern light. They're vast, larger than any human's, encasing an exotic beauty I can't comprehend. I can see intricate webs of color, violet hues fading into the darkness of her pupils. The whites of her eyes, unlike human eyes, carry a soft tint of lavender, adding to her inhuman allure.

Without warning, her lips crash into mine, catching me off guard. It's a hard, eager kiss, filled with a wildness I've never experienced. I can feel her sharp goblin teeth, pointy tips grazing my lips, a touch of danger to this intimate moment. Her breath is goblinesque, earthy, the taste is unfamiliar, yet intoxicating.

She bites my lower lip, a sharp sting radiates through my mouth, a prick of blood seeping onto my tongue. Her tongue darts out, tasting the blood, a feral grunt emanating from her throat. It's raw, it's intense, the sensations igniting a spark of arousal that coils tightly within me.

My hand snakes around her waist, instinctively pulling her closer. I grope her ass, firm yet soft under my touch. It's round, curvaceous, the muscles tensing beneath my palm. My fingers sink into her flesh, eliciting a moan from her that vibrates against my lips. The way her ass fills my hand is so wonderfully lewd, yet somehow right.

Breaking the kiss, she breathes heavily, her chest heaving against mine. She blushes, her skin darkening, eyes shining with curiosity and something else...desire?

With a coy grin, her hand tentatively snakes downwards, a single finger landing on my half-hard cock. She yelps, her eyes widening at the unfamiliar sponginess, the pulsing heat under her touch.

Melka shivers, her eyes dancing with a mix of nervousness and excitement. It's such a stark contrast to the confident goblin I've come to know. A flush darkens her green skin as she gingerly wraps her hand around my length, her grip featherlight.

Then, she pulls away with a grin, looking at my cock with an almost scientific curiosity. I can see the gears turning in her head, her violet eyes alight with a familiar mischief.

"I know what ta do," she says, standing up from the bed. She's small compared to me, but her 3'8" stature seems to contain an energy far larger than herself. It's infectious, pulling me in. “Damn, finally got someone ta watch me dance!”

She steps back, her tiny, curvaceous body moving rhythmically in her skimpy cloth underwear, her breasts straining against the strip of cloth barely containing them. Suddenly, she starts to move, her body swaying in a hypnotic rhythm, unlike anything I've ever seen.

"Ya know, Tit-bitch, us gobbos used to dance, for each other,” she says, her voice soft, melancholic. Her moves are accentuating her curves, drawing attention to her round ass, her large breasts, her lithe body. The dance is delicate, yet so seductive, like a forgotten language spoken only through the body. “Once uponna time.”

In the flickering candlelight, Melka begins. Her bra and panties cling to her skin as she moves, straining with each gyration, each stretch, each arch of her back. Each movement reveals more of her green skin, barely preserving her modesty.

As she moves, a song slips from her lips in the old goblin tongue, wild and primal, thoroughly enchanting. "Groak Aldric Skulgaroth," she begins, softly, her impish voice tinged with a note of admiration, almost reverence. It’s haunting. The only words I recognize are my name, and the name the goblins gave me before they died.

(Editor’s note: approximate translations have been added in parentheses after consulting with one of the few goblin linguistic experts in Thuulk - Aldric did not understand these, however - please see the end-of-chapter notes for further details)

"Groak Aldric Skulgaroth," (Aldric, the Deathbringer)

"Zu'uka rhaatark lug," (As terrifying as he is,)

"Kobag skrizzak 'orah," (I want him in my bed,)

Her movements become more fluid, more sensuous, her hips swaying as she twirls in the dim light. Her panties ride up, revealing more of her ass with each sway.

"Ag'tok toadra groak," (I've never been with a man,)

"Nara gara zok," (And perhaps I never will again,)

"But z'unn skrizzak Skulgaroth," (But tonight, I want the Deathbringer,)

She dances, her green breasts jiggling with every move, her bra just barely managing to contain them. The material of her underwear strains against her body, revealing more of her goosebumped skin.I may not understand the words, but the tone, the way she looks at me while she sings, it's enough to tell me the song is about desire, longing, and promise.

Suddenly, I grab her from behind, my hands sliding down to her round, firm ass. I yank her panties down, exposing her to my hungry gaze. She's wet, her heat against my fingers. I sink two fingers inside her, her tight warmth enveloping me. Her pussy clenches around my fingers as she sings, moaning softly while she does.

"Rhaatark gara zok," (As terrifying as he may be,)

"Zu'uka z'unn skrizzak lug," (I still want him,)

"Ura, zrag zhaakar zu'uk." (Yet, I promise not to steal him from his one true love.)

She gasps, her body jerking in surprise as my fingers explore her deeper. I can hear her moaning, the sound swallowed by the sweet notes of her song. She's hot, she's wet, and she's all mine, for just one night.

The height difference - I’m kneeling behind her, one hand still inside her, the other steadying her against me. Her thick thighs clench around my hand, the sensation sending another surge of arousal through me.

As I play with her, the song fades, her breath coming out in pants, the notes lost in the heavy silence of the room. All I can hear is her, all I can feel is her, and all I want is her.

She throws a look over her shoulder, her sparkling purple eyes clouded with desire and anticipation. The sight of her lips parting slightly, heavy breaths escaping them, sends a shiver down my spine. One of her small, green hands captures mine, her fingers intertwining with mine, guiding me deeper within her.

Her goblin pussy is tight, incredibly so, clenching rhythmically around my fingers. It's velvet soft, the ridges and folds of her inner walls sending jolts of pleasure through me, a primal part of me reveling in the lewdness of it all.

Her other hand disappears from my sight, only to reappear at the base of my hardening cock. She wraps her small hand around my length, positioning it between the round mounds of her green, sweat-slick ass. She tucks my cock beneath the thin fabric of her panties, nestling it snugly between her cheeks.

The feeling of her ass rubbing against my cock is intoxicating. Her ass is soft yet firm, the subtle squeeze of her cheeks sending sparks of pleasure through my body. She rocks back into me, her ass sliding up and down along my length. The friction, though light, stokes the heat within me, pushing me to the brink of my control.

The room is filled with soft, gasping moans, the heat between us growing with each passing second. Her voice, once melodic and singing, is now reduced to ragged breaths and soft pleas. My name, or rather my title, “Skulgaroth,” leaves her lips in a heated whisper, adding to the potent eroticism of the moment. It might be a little messed up that she’s calling me by name that strikes fear into her people.

With a grunt, I scoop her up, her small frame light in my arms. I move across the room, her body pressed against mine, the smell of her arousal mingling with the heat between us. I place her on the bed, positioning her on all fours.

She looks back at me, her purple eyes flashing with playful mischief. Her butt is raised, the round globes of her ass sticking out invitingly, her pussy peeking out from between her thighs. It's a darker shade of green, the slick folds glistening in the dim light. Her freckles, darker against her green skin, dot her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, giving her a delightfully exotic look.

She smirks at me, her eyes darting towards my rock-hard cock. "Looks like yer hard, I guess ya can just go jerk off now, right?" she teases, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Not a chance," I retort, a growl rumbling in my throat. My hands roam over her ass, feeling the smooth skin and the slight jiggle under my fingers.

I reach between her legs, my fingers brushing against her pussy. The scent of her hits me, musky, but not unpleasant. It's a strange, exotic scent that sends a jolt of lust through me. My cock twitches in response, an eager ache spreading through me.

Gently, I guide my cock to her pussy, rubbing it around the slick folds in a slow, teasing circle. Her breath hitches, a soft moan muffled by the pillow she's biting into. My hand gives her ass a firm squeeze, the cool, green skin warming under my touch. She lets out a muffled squeal, her body squirming in anticipation. I chuckle, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The game is on.

Gently, I position the head of my cock at her entrance, the slickness there easing my way in. There's a tightness, an unexpected resistance that makes me pause. It's as if there's a barrier, something that gives way under the gentle pressure of my cock. There's no blood, but a small whimper escapes her, her body tensing under me.

"Are you alright?" I ask, my voice laced with concern. I pull out slightly, only to be met with a defiant gaze.

She turns back, her eyes misty but determined. "I'm... I'm a virgin," she admits, the words barely a whisper.

A flood of warmth courses through me, the realization sinking in. The tightness, the resistance I felt, it all makes sense now. She entrusted her first time to me, and it stirs something inside me, an unexpected intimacy that sends a shiver down my spine.

Slowly, I push back inside her, the feeling of her tight pussy enveloping me is indescribable. It's a warmth, a snugness that wraps around my cock like a glove. It's heavenly.

Melka looks back at me over her shoulder, her eyes hazy and wide. Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth, a thin line of drool escaping from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes are smoky, her pupils dilated with arousal. Her face is flushed, her freckles standing out against her green skin. There's a wild look in her eyes, a mixture of pleasure, pain, and surprise that makes her look all the more beautiful.

Then, without warning, she pushes back against me, her ass meeting my hips in one swift movement. The sensation is jolting, the depth of it forcing a gasp from my lips. She's filled to the brim with me, my cock nestled deep within her. She lets out a breathless moan, her small green hands gripping the sheets tightly. She's fully impaled on my cock, the sight of her, the feeling of her, it's all too much. It feels so fucking good.

She lets out a shaky breath, her body trembling beneath me. "I want it rough," she whispers, her words a stark contrast to her delicate demeanor. "Always wanted my first time to be rough. Don't go easy on me."

A chuckle rumbles in my chest, my fingers tightening around the curls of her hair. There's a challenge in her words, a gleam in her purple eyes that sparks something within me. I give her a firm nod, a silent agreement to her request.

With a swift thrust, I slam into her, my cock buried deep within her tightness. She gasps, her body jolting with the force of my movement. Her fat, green ass smacks against my hips, the sound echoing through the room.

My fingers twine in her curly black hair, pulling her back to meet my thrusts. Her back arches, the smooth expanse of her green skin glistening under the dim light. Her body is a work of art, a sight to behold. Every smack of our bodies sends a wave of pleasure coursing through me.

My other hand moves down to her ass, giving it a firm slap. She lets out a yelp, the sound quickly morphing into a moan. The imprint of my hand forms on her green skin, a darker shade against her body.

Her breasts swing with the force of my thrusts, somehow still contained within her thin strip of fabric. The sight of her, her body bouncing and swaying under my ministrations, sends a jolt of arousal straight to my cock.

Melka's moans and groans fill the room, a beautiful symphony of pleasure. "I love it," she screams, her voice raw with pleasure. She looks back at me, her eyes filled with pure bliss, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

With every thrust, every movement, her body rocks against mine. The sight of her, the feel of her beneath me, the sound of her screams, it's all overwhelming, all consuming. And I can't help but fall deeper into the haze of pleasure.

With a low grunt, I maneuver us around, sliding one arm beneath Melka's thick legs and the other securing behind her neck. The full nelson position is no easy feat, but her small body makes it manageable.

The moment I lift her into the air, her cries escalate, the pitch higher and more fervent. I can see our reflection in a large, ornately framed mirror across the room.

In the reflection, Melka's eyes meet mine, wide and brimming with ecstasy. Her legs are bent upwards, spread so far apart it's sinful. The sight is absolutely obscene, her green pussy spread wide and lewd, exposed for my viewing pleasure.

A new surge of arousal washes over me, and with a savage thrust, I bury myself back into her. Her tight walls stretch to accommodate me, a wet, perfect fit that has my head spinning.

"F-fill me, Skulgaroth,” Melka gasps out, her voice barely more than a breathy whisper. I heed her request, pounding into her mercilessly, stretching her in ways she's never experienced.

Her screams fill the room, loud and unapologetic. The sounds only fuel my desire, my cock throbbing with each lust-filled note that tumbles from her lips. Her juices coat me, dribbling down my length and pooling at our joining. The lewd, squelching sounds of our bodies slapping together echo around us.

Releasing Melka from the full nelson, I gently slide her down onto the rumpled bedspread, her body a dew-drenched flower beneath me. Her eyes sparkle like gemstones, reflecting the meager candlelight. She lifts her legs high, her flexible limbs bending like a contortionist's as she presents herself to me. She bites her lower lip, her dainty green hands pulling apart her ass cheeks, showing me her wet, inviting pussy. The shiny lavender of her inner folds stands out against the green of her pussy lips, a tantalizing sight that has my cock throbbing with need.

Her breasts spill out from the tiny strip of cloth stretched over them, bouncing with the rhythm of my thrusts. The only thing keeping the band from completely giving way is her nipples pressing hard against the fabric, holding it in place.

My hands move down to cup her full, jiggly tits, the green skin feeling warm and pliant beneath my fingertips. Melka squirms beneath me, her moans and gasps rising in volume as I thrust into her over and over, her legs quivering high in the air.

With each plunge of my cock, a strange sensation bubbles up within me. It's like the cleansing sensation you get from sweating out a fever, a physical purge of the toxins swirling within my system. The pheromones from Grokk's cum are slowly being squeezed out of every corner of my body, pooling lower and lower, their influence waning with each passing second.

Her freckles stand out against her darkening green flush, her sweat-slick skin gleaming in the dim light. Her purple eyes, so intense and vibrant, meet mine and she utters three words that send a jolt of panic through me, "Cum inside me."

"No," I respond, shaking my head. Even in the throes of pleasure, I can't ignore the loyalty I still hold for my wife, for Elara. This is survival, not infidelity. I need to do this to live. Right?

Melka doesn't seem deterred by my rejection. Her legs wrap tighter around me, holding me in place as I continue to piston into her. "Do it," she insists, her voice shaky from her own impending climax.

Her pussy clenches around me, her body shaking as a powerful orgasm tears through her. Her screams fill the room, her back arching off the bed as she rides out the waves of pleasure. Her claws dig into my abs, her tiny arms not quite able to reach around my wide frame.

The sight of her in such ecstasy is breathtaking. Her eyes screw shut, her teeth bared in a silent scream, her entire body shaking. I can see it all in our reflection in the mirror - her splayed out beneath me, her tits bouncing and jiggling, her legs shaking.

In that moment, I know I'm close. Very close. I can feel the toxins pooling there, ready to be expelled. My body is purging itself, cleansing itself of the alien substance that had been killing me from the inside out. And all it took was the catalyst of this little green vixen beneath me.

My muscles are shaking, energy coursing through me in intense waves. My heart pounds in my chest like a war drum, echoing the primal rhythm of my primal need. I'm close, so close to releasing. I know Melka is still in the throes of her own release, her petite body writhing under me. I can feel her legs clamping around my waist, her feet pressing into the small of my back. She wants me to spill inside her, but I can't. I won't.

I grunt, a low, guttural sound of exertion, gently unwrapping her legs from around me. My fingers brush over the smooth, green skin of her soles, still twitching and tensing from her orgasm. I can feel the heat of her, the goosebumps raised on her skin. Her toes curl and uncurl as I free myself from her grip.

"I need to..." I huff out the words, a thread of a thought hanging in the heated air of the room. I don't finish the sentence. I don't have to. She knows what I mean.

I stand, suddenly feeling the world tilt and sway under me. My knees almost buckle, my muscles threatening to give out. I'm not sure if it's the adrenaline crash or the goblin toxins seeping back into my system, but I feel weak, shaky. Still, I hold myself upright, one hand bracing on the wooden bedpost, the other hand wrapped around my throbbing cock.

"No, Aldric," Melka whimpers, a soft plea. "On me, please."

I glance down at her. She's still laid out on the bed, a vision of wanton desire. Her thick black hair is spread out on the pillow beneath her head, her wide purple eyes glittering with unshed tears. Her lips are parted, panting, a flush on her cheeks. She looks... breathtaking, like a painting of some forgotten little goddess.

"Melka, I..."

She's quick, rolling off the bed and kneeling on the wooden floor in front of me. My name is a soft prayer on her lips as she looks up at me. Her hands cup her breasts, pressing them together, her dark nipples hard and pointed. I feel my gut tighten at the sight of her, at the desperate desire burning in her eyes.

"I want to feel it," she whispers, her words a desperate plea. "I want to feel you, Aldric."

I know it's wrong, I know I shouldn't, but her words, her gaze, it all breaks down my resolve.

I can feel it coming, the deep rumble of my impending release, my entire body coiled up like a powerful spring. Every muscle tenses, my toes curl against the rough wooden floor. It feels like a wildfire tearing through my body, destroying everything in its path, a purifying conflagration. It's not the simple pleasure I used to know, it's a thousand times more potent, sharp and keen like a lightning bolt.

"Alright," I rasp out, hoarse, unable to resist her pleading eyes any longer. My hand shakes as I point my cock directly at her, a target painted in bright green against the brown backdrop of the room.

Then, with a raw, animalistic grunt, I let go. The sensation is overwhelming, even painful. Hot. Burning. My cock pulses, throbbing as it expels the thick, toxic evidence of Grokk's influence from my body. It's an expulsion, a violent rejection, purifying and cleansing.

I watch as the thick ropes of my release shoot out, a hideous cocktail of milky white and strange tinges of yellow and gray-green. It lands on her, the squelching sounds shockingly loud in the quiet room, staining her once beautiful green skin with an unappealing glaze. It's an assault, violent and unyielding, but she just whimpers softly, accepting it, even welcoming it. Her wide purple eyes never leave mine as my cum paints her face, her breasts, soaking her bra and turning her freckles into grotesque islands in a sea of white.

I feel lighter, like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders. A sense of relief washes over me, followed by a wave of embarrassment and shame. The smell is pungent, making me wince. I don't even recognize it as my own.

"I... I'm sorry, Melka," I mutter, panting heavily. My body feels like jelly, muscles quivering from the powerful climax.

The aftermath of my release feels like the silence after a storm, where every sound is heightened and every sight seems sharper.

Melka kneels on the floor, a strange mix of beauty and obscenity. Her skin, normally a beautiful, lush green, is covered in my cum, the substance splattered haphazardly across her chest and face, stringy trails of it dripping off her upturned nose and full lips. She's blinking rapidly, probably to keep the cum out of her eyes, and her purple eyes are wide, full of emotions I can't quite decipher.

The once-white band around her breasts is soaked through, clinging to her large round breasts like a second skin. It's darker now, stained with my cum, and as she breathes heavily, it moves with her, wet and squelchy. Cum runs down from her breasts in small streams, pooling around her hips and thighs.

The cum itself is grotesque, a disturbing mix of white and gray-green, still steaming slightly from the heat of my body. It's thick, almost curdled, clinging to her skin like glue. Its scent is pungent, sour and sickeningly sweet, and she wrinkles her upturned nose at the smell. I can't help but wince at the sight of it, this vivid evidence of my recent past.

Then, Melka giggles.

Her eyes sparkle, her cheeks darken with happiness, her wide mouth stretched in a grin. And despite the revolting mess, despite the fact that I've just doused her in goblin cum, she seems genuinely happy. It's such a strange, unexpected reaction that I can't help but stare at her, my brain unable to comprehend her joy.

"Thank ya, Tit-bitch," she says, her voice slightly muffled by the cum clinging to her lips. "I guess ya needed to get that outta ya system."

She sounds relieved, grateful even, and I feel my heart sink a little at her words. But then she giggles again, a light, tinkling sound that somehow manages to fill the room with warmth.

"It stinks," she says, still grinning, and peels off her soaked bra with a squelching sound, exposing her dark, hardened nipples. "Ain't gonna wear that again."

I stare at her, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and relief. "I feel... better, Melka. Much better."

And I do. Lighter, cleaner, like I've been scrubbed from the inside out. The toxic pheromones, the horrible remnants of Grokk's influence, they're gone, purged from my body in one painful, powerful release.

Her happiness is contagious, and I find myself laughing, the sound strange and foreign to my own ears. It's a relief, a release of tension I didn't even realize I was holding onto.

When Melka stands up and hugs me, her body barely reaching my chest, I feel a strange mix of warmth and guilt. Her short height means that she presses her cum-soaked body against my legs, but I don't care. It's a moment of shared laughter, of shared relief, and I hug her back, my strong arms wrapping around her smaller frame.

"Sorry, Aldric," she giggles against my chest, her voice muffled. "I got some of it on ya."

It's messy and weird and awkward and funny all at once, and I find myself grinning down at her, my heart pounding in my chest. This tiny goblin girl, this brave, bold creature who saved me, is laughing with me, sharing a moment of joy and relief in a world that's been nothing but cruel.

It's a moment of lewd beauty, a strange mix of eroticism and warmth, an obscene portrait painted with grotesque strokes. The cum, once a symbol of my subjugation, has become a symbol of my liberation, of my fight against Grokk's influence. It's still disgusting, still revolting, but it's also a sign of my strength, of my resilience.

Melka's just a pure whirlwind of enthusiasm now, naked and not giving a toss. Her tits bobble and her ass jiggles with every step she takes, a wee goblin jig that sends the room into fits. There's cum dripping from her hair, sticking to her cheeks, but she doesn't care, not a bit. Her eyes are brighter than I've ever seen them, full of a joy that's as infectious as the plague.

"And then, and then," she babbles on, "you grabbed my hair, yeah, pulled it back just like this," she pantomimes, a hand in her still messy hair, "and smacked my ass so hard! Gods, it stung but it was bloody brilliant, it was!" Her cheeks are rosy, her words tumbling out faster than I can keep up.

Her small feet patter on the wooden floor as she leaps about, imitating the positions we were in. "Legs, they were up, oh gods, up so high! And you, you were in me, so deep. Felt like you were gunna split me in two!" She pauses for a moment, holding a hand to her chest as she catches her breath.

"Did ya... did ya like the eye contact? Thought it was quite hot, myself," she adds with a little giggle, batting those big, expressive eyes at me. She's a ball of energy, bubbling over with exhilaration. It's as if she's just discovered a whole new world. And maybe she has.

It's a sight, watching her like this. A goblin girl in the throes of post-coital bliss, recounting every moment of her first time. The way she talks about being used, about the feeling of someone inside her... it's disarmingly honest. Funny in a way, but endearing, too.

She's always been overlooked, but she's got a spirit in her that I've never seen in any woman, human or not.

As she starts cleaning herself up in the washbasin, I find myself grinning, a warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling up in my chest. It's been a long time since I've felt this light, this relaxed. She's a sight, Melka is, in all her naked, giggling glory.

I let her prattle on while she washes, chuckling as I sink back into my bed, the covers soft against my skin. Exhaustion begins to tug at my eyelids, but I resist, watching her. "I'm glad, Melka," I finally say, my words barely above a whisper. Her joy fills the room, her laughter ringing out as she continues to dance.

Finally, she pauses, panting and flushed. "Even if it was just once, I'm so glad it was you, Aldric." And with those words, she snuffs out the candles, plunging the room into darkness. But her giggling from her own bed still fills the space, a comforting, happy sound that follows me into sleep.