The sun hung high over the goblin village. By now, every villager was already awake and tended to their duties or, if they finished them already, was either playing, resting or fucking (the goblin hobby par excellence). Of course, the village in general currently waited for the hunting party to return from their bi-weekly expedition into the forest surrounding the village, which both served as their main source of food and supplies, and prevented attacks from the neighboring human town.

It was almost noon, so many of the goblins whose work depended on the resources from the forest, like warehouse keepers and package deliverers, were already awaiting their return at the gates of the village.

It was only a few minutes after the agreed time when they started hearing countless steps coming from the forest; soon, two dozen or so goblins, both male and female, came out from its limits carrying bulky packages. The waiting crowd started cheering noisily, and the hunting party replied with loud yells of their own, some of them pointing excitedly towards a particularly big lump that was being carried on a stretcher by three burly goblin warriors.

They finally joined the welcoming group, exchanging both greetings and packages in a frantic yet highly coordinated manner, so no goblin hindered one another.

From the green swarm, a lone goblin emerged and sprinted towards the village. His chubby body waddled with little grace as he ran with surprising speed, making the hunter’s horn that hung from his neck bounce with every step. Such a physique made Gorgoruk a rare addition to the hunting party, which usually comprised the stouter male warriors and stealthier huntresses; however, his presence could be explained by the short time it took him to cover the distance from the gate to a slightly secluded hut near the heart of the town.

The hut, already slightly crooked, was in terrible shape: several bricks were missing from its walls and so much smoke had stained it that it was almost black. Gorgoruk's lack of breath wasn’t enough to drown a loud mechanical buzzing coming from inside. He banged more than knocked on the door; the sound of metal crashing and a loud swear preceded the stopping of the sound, and a few instants later, the door opened.

The goblin that came out wore thick protective lenses and had striking green hair, combed in a spiky hairdo that made it seem as if his skull exploded. He was sucking on his thumb, which was bleeding slightly.

“What is it, Gorg’? I’m working,” he said, annoyed. The chubby goblin hastily grabbed him by the arm.

“Working schmorking, ‘Lar: you’ve got to see this!” he replied, pulled on his arm. His friend, knowing of Gorgoruk’s common disregard (born from ignorance, if we’re being honest) for his duties, quickly grabbed the frame of his house with his free arm.

“Hell, no!” he exclaimed. “I’m in the middle of the bigger project of MY LIFE, and I’m not going to stop because of your flaky bouts of excitement. If it’s of any real importance, I’ll check it out at dinner time, like the other scholars.”

“Lethlar,” said the fat goblin in a condescending tone that made the bespectacled goblin want to let go of the doorframe to smack him, “what’s a mere sex toy compared to the best bounty we’ve ever found? I’m doing you the favor of coming to pick you up before you’re last on the list to try her.”

“I don’t only make sex toys, you dumb -” Lethlar started to argue, but his friend had taken advantage of his indignation to finally pry him from the door frame and started dragging him back to the gate.

Gorgoruk rambled all the way back to the entrance about their “amazing” catch and how it was, “nothing like you’ve ever seen before,” but his reluctant companion wasn’t listening. From the moment they left his house, his gaze was fixed on the darkness beyond his open door, even after he finally lost sight of it.

Lethlar’s job as a tinkerer was rare, since it required focus and an ability to plan that was hard to find among goblins, but also invaluable, given his kind’s reliance on complex mechanisms; mainly, sex toys. He was the only tinkerer in this village, so almost all the building and repairing of trinkets big and small fell on him. One would think the amount of work he did for the community would be deserving of respect and recognition, right? But goblins don’t work like that.

For such a weak, easily overpowered race, safety was only found in numbers; as such, goblin societies had grown to be clockwork-like structures, where every single goblin was both vital for the survival of the whole and unremarkable in their achievements. Each goblin was a cog, and they all knew that their one calling was to keep the whole machine working.

But not Lethlar. His sharp mind wasn’t the only thing setting him apart from his fellow goblins, but a much, much rarer trait: he was extremely ambitious. His overzealous dedication to his current project was not out of a regular goblin-like commitment to fulfilling the village’s needs, but because it was his last hope of getting some recognition; that’s why he had to make it bigger, stronger, more amazing than any other device he’d ever made.

It was also why non-essential interruptions (like this one) irritated him so much. He was so lost in this thought that he almost didn’t realize that they had reached the village’s entrance.

The freshly picked vegetables, game, and other supplies that had been brought by the hunting party laid untouched in piles next to the road. Lethlar raised an eyebrow: goblins letting their tasks pile up in such little time? He actively started following his friend towards the group of goblins at the gate, now huddled tightly around the hunting party and… something else.

It took a while to push through the crowd. Finally, they reached the center, where a couple of women, still wearing their customary camo straps, along with three stout men flanked an unusual package: a young, naked woman, seemingly unconscious, hogtied over a piece of wood. The angle on which she slept prevented the tinkerer from taking a good look at her, but he could tell she had a shapely form, milky skin and bright pink hair, which hid her face. He frowned.

Every now and then, a human would wander too far into the forest; if they were really unlucky, they would stumble upon a goblin expedition like this one, and be captured by them. Again, a goblin is pretty harmless on its own, but a group of them (in particular, one made of skilled hunters) can be a real problem, exponentially so with every member.

If they managed to catch the human, they would almost always use them as entertainment... of the sexual kind. The whole village would have their way with them for what could be weeks or even a couple of months until the novelty wore off; after that, the goblins would let them go, sore and disoriented.

Goblins were not orcs nor demons and didn’t kill if it wasn’t necessary; besides, killing a human would really draw the ire of their whole town, while a mere sexually charged holiday only discouraged humans from going too deep into the forest or, as some goblins joked, encouraged the right ones to do it.

In any case, while a new human toy would make any goblin giddy with excitement (and Lethlar was not an exception), it hardly deserved the attention of so many goblins and, the tinkerer thought, especially not his. He turned towards Gorgoruk slowly, trembling with anger; his friend was sporting a wide smile and made an expectant gesture.

“See, what did I tell you? Is it or IS IT the best fuckin’ thing you’ve laid your eyes on?” he asked.

“No, it’s not, you idiot!” Lethlar exploded; the fat goblin’s grin disappeared. “Is this why you interrupted me? Why everyone is so preoccupied that their work is over there, abandoned and on the ground? You should all be ashamed: like you’ve never stuck your dick on a human before. I’m going back to work, and if anyone interrupts me again -”

“Oh my god!” said Gorgoruk, interrupting him, and pushed him towards the woman. “Have you forgotten how to look at living beings from spending too much time among machines, ‘Lar?” he added, scathingly.

As he drew near to the sleeping human, Lethlar noticed a couple more things about her: two black, bat-like wings sprouted from her back, currently folded and held securely against her body with rope; a long, thin tail crowned with a spaded tip emerged from her shapely butt and a couple of fangs protruded from the top of the ballgag filling her mouth. He seized up:

“A demon!” he exclaimed.

“Not just any kind of demon,” said Gorgoruk, and circled the captive further. Once he had reached her feet, he lifted one of them as much as her bindings allowed, showing off a slim spike emerging from her heels, which shaped her foot into an organic stiletto shoe. The fat goblin expressed Lethlar’s thoughts: “We caught a succubus, ‘Lar!” he yelled while jumping and clapping.

“Gorgoruk, settle down. You’re going to wake her up.”

The largest of the males flanking the demon had now approached them. He was extremely tall for a goblin, almost a meter and a half, his skin was a lighter shade of olive and he had a shiny mane of black hair.

“Hi, Lethlar. How’s work?” he greeted, politely.

“All good, Golian; thank you,” replied the tinkerer, with slightly exaggerated courtesy. “You seemed to have done some impressive work yourself; congratulations.”

“It was a group effort,” the warrior said with an honest smile, which made the tinkerer groan on the inside. His eyes quickly darted towards the spear that the warrior held: The Golden Lance, the village’s only heirloom, given only to the Alpha Warrior.

While goblin villages lacked hierarchies (the village’s chief being the sole exception) and explicit recognition was pretty much nonexistent, a goblin that was incredibly accomplished on their job would get to be known among the others as an “alpha”. Someone with such high skill and experience in their field that they could teach and guide others to better serve the village. Most alphas would have different, more managerial tasks and their opinions would carry a heavier weight, but otherwise, they would remain the same as all others in their field: part of a larger organism, dedicated to making it the best they could.

The alpha warrior was special in that, given that their field was protecting the village and fighting against likely stronger enemies, it only made sense he’d be given the strongest weapon they possessed. For any goblin, it was a matter of practicality; for Lethlar, the spear was a trophy, one given to Golian in anticipation of something he hadn’t done yet.

The tinkerer’s contemplation of the gilded weapon was cut short by a rustle from the demoness. Gorgoruk shrieked and leaped a good meter back (a respectable distance for a goblin), and all the warriors readied their weapons.

The succubus slowly raised her head and opened her eyes, revealing the most alluring magenta irises any of them had ever seen. Even unable to use her eromancy because of the gag, her presence made the tinkerer’s nether region stir; he could guess the other warriors felt something similar. The demoness looked around lazily, made a weak attempt to break her bonds and, finally, sighed and fell asleep again.

Most of the goblins relaxed, some of them even sharing smiles of satisfaction with each other; Lethlar narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine a demon, one of the highest-ranked monsters in terms of power and influence, could be so unconcerned by the prospect of being bred by goblins for what could be days, even if she was a particular variety of demon made to breed. He cautiously approached the demon, scanning her for any attempt to escape or to cast magic. The only movement in her body was her slow breath, which made her silken, white skin glisten with every rise and fall of her feminine back.

The tinkerer swallowed hard: his loincloth was starting to feel tight. A quick look around showed that all other males were in a similar state.

“So, what do you say? Shall we get this party started?” said Gorgoruk, eagerly rubbing his hands.

“I completely agree. I couldn’t masturbate before we left this morning, and you know what that does to one’s head,” exclaimed a sultry woman's voice.

The most physically impressive of the female huntresses split from the group and approached the male warriors, swaying her hips. Unlike most goblin girls, she didn’t dye her naturally white hair, and she kept it short with a long, silky fringe that covered one of her eyes. It helped when shooting a blowpipe, and it also looked incredibly sexy.

“What do you say, Golian?” she continued. “Just a quick orgasm (or a dozen) here against the dirt,” she added, playfully twirling her finger against the alpha warrior’s chest.

“Well, Cessa, I… it would be my pleasure, of course, but…” he stuttered, darting his eyes between her and the bound demon. All male goblins present understood his predicament, but none were any braver to express it; especially not to Cessa, an alpha huntress who could be argued to be the most commanding of all women in the village.

Her seductive smile was slowly replaced by a reproachful squint as the warrior’s stutter became an awkward silence and his eyes avoided hers.

“Fine, then. Go enjoy the prize of a good hunt; I hope you don’t choke on that bitch’s tits, or whatever,” she said through clenched teeth and turned to the rest of the crowd. “Anyone else, then? You know not all of you are going to get a first turn with her, and I just can’t believe you’d rather stand with your cock in your hands than get a piece of this!”

She made a show of her body, sliding her hands across her velvety, green skin, from her perky breasts to her sculpted ass, ending with a playful spank that made her naked butt-cheek jiggle.

However, it seemed as if no goblin with a Y chromosome was even listening to her anymore: all of them had their gazes glued to the succubus’ luxurious skin, as if they had been thirsty their entire lives and the only liquid in the world were the tiny pearls of sweat on the demoness’ back. A couple of female hunters timidly raised her hands, and while Cessa blew them a warm kiss in reply, no one without a cock could reach as deep as she needed right now. After a couple more seconds without a volunteer, she let out a growl of frustration and stormed off towards her hut. Just as she was about to disappear at the corner of the road, her voice boomed:

“If any of you assholes needs me, I’ll be at home… with my dildos!”

Before any of the other women could scold them, the men were already getting into formation in even more perfectly synchronized fashion than usual: Golian, along with a couple of other burly warriors, hoisted the planks on which the demoness rested over their shoulders; the rest made a neat line behind them. Without any starting command required, they all started sprinting towards the village in perfect unison.

The women watched in disbelief as they departed with nary a glance at the rest of the bounty; some berated them, like Cessa, and they all started to split the tasks of gathering the weapons and the bounty to bring them back to the warehouses.

Meanwhile, the procession of horny males stormed the roads of the village with stony faces but lust-filled, fiery eyes. Every now and then, one of the goblins who had been lazy or busy enough to not be at the main gate would cross them, but before they had barely any time to raise their eyebrows, let alone ask what was going on, the caravan would leave them in a cloud of dust. Yet, if the onlooker was a male, one brief look at the succubus would be enough for him to quickly join the group without uttering nor getting a word of acknowledgment.

With dizzying, craving-fueled speed they crossed half the village in no time and the “Guest Hall,” a well-kept hut full of bindings and sex toys located near the middle of the village, came to view. The group quickened their pace; Lethlar, who lagged at the end, followed them with the same thoughtless determination. As they turned towards it, he barely caught a glimpse of his house in the distance, the door still open.

For the first time since they started moving, the tinkerer was slowly brought to a halt. His mind remained an impregnable sea of lust-tinted clouds, but something paralyzed him and kept his gaze on his run-down shack: a feeling of unwavering dedication, almost an obsession, towards whatever was inside. 

Suddenly, it turned into a vivid image of himself, standing in front of the entire village, as they all cheered and clapped. The feelings instilled by the dream were so powerful that he stood there for a couple of seconds; in the end, the origin of his libido proved stronger, and dream was swallowed by one single thought: fuck that demon silly.

Just as slowly as he had stopped, he turned back to follow the rest of the goblins, but their feverish speed was such that in those few instants they managed to reach their objective. Before he had lifted his foot, the last inch of the succubus’ skin disappeared inside the hut.

It was like someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water on the tinkerer’s head: the thick smoke disappeared, and his thoughts became clear again, if slightly warped by the familiar goblin horniness. He widened his eyes and shook his head.

“What the -?” he muttered, looking at his surroundings. A small movement from the sex house caught this attention, but he turned away from it, determined to avoid looking at the demoness at any cost.

He puzzled at what to do next. He didn’t know anything about magic, but he was almost sure the demon hadn’t cast a spell. However, just a sexy body doesn’t do THAT to a regular, functioning goblin, let alone one as level-headed as he was. He wasn’t sure what was happening or what could be done to stop it, but he concluded that if someone knew, it was the Goblin Elder. He had to be informed of this, quickly, before all the village’s men were reduced to drooling, breeding zombies.

Then, he caught another glimpse of his hut.

“Well… it’s not like they do much else when they’re on their right mind,” he thought to himself. “Plus, the demon is bound and gagged; in that state, it’s doubtful she could overpower that many warriors. Actually, if we think about it, maybe I should let them continueFucking her could also bring them back to their senses, and I won’t have started a false alarm,” he reasoned with himself in a very un-goblin-like manner. “Besides… when I finish my machine, such a crowd would be perfect for a test run. All in order to help them, of course! It would only be a coincidence that I get massive credit for it,” he added, now with very goblin-like mischievousness.

He decided to postpone his visit to the Elder. He marched towards his house, fully intending to close the door until his machine was finished, but, when he pulled it, he noticed something important:

“Ouch!” he yowled and looked down: he had smacked the door against the stiff erection tenting his loincloth. “Darn it… I guess that demon’s charms did have a lasting effect,” he lamented as he poked it with his index finger. “I won’t be able to get any work done like this.”

If unattended, any trace of horniness would inevitably devolve into Goblin Heat, which was the bane of a working goblin (especially one with delicate work, such as a doctor or, yes, a tinkerer): his breathing would get heavy, his fingers would become clumsy and, worst of all, his mind would get more and more clouded as his need grew. While goblins genuinely enjoyed sex more than almost any other pastime, this physiological condition was the main reason for the impromptu sexual encounters commonplace in their villages. Lethlar was no stranger to them, either, but now… He looked around.

His immediate vicinity was completely empty, as one half of the village was probably attending to the labors that the second half of the village had neglected in favor of gang-banging a hypnotizing demon. He sighed, wondering what to do next.

As a tinkerer, his house had no shortage of sex toys, but he had resolved to give them better use as part of his machine and it hurt him to even consider breaking it down for something as meaningless as a single, self-imposed orgasm. He was considering if he could quickly assemble a makeshift one from the scraps that remained, when he remembered something: sex toys… dildos… a goblin using dildos… Cessa!

At first, the shame of neglecting a fellow goblin in need came back at full force, making him reconsider that option; but just then, he picked up a distant moan from the Guest Hall, which brought a shiver down his spine and hardened his dick even more. He steeled himself to not look and turned around, jogging as best he could with a boner towards the huntress’ house.

The trip should have been short, even though the huntress lived on the very edge of the village, near the forest where her job placed her most of the time, but Lethlar’s manhood was so rigid that he was having trouble walking. With every step, he grew more and more irritated and horny, but his own horniness, combined with his fear of the demon, pushed him to keep going to the sweet relief waiting between the huntress’ legs. Finally, he had to take a halt: he was so hot that he was sure he’d jump on any goblin, no matter the gender, that showed up just then.

But no one showed up, like they hadn’t the whole time he had been walking. He searched desperately on that square, but the streets and houses were deserted; the only signal of life was the smoke coming from the temple, far near the back of the village. The tinkerer frowned with worry. Was the whole town like this, just from half the villagers playing hooky?

It was quite possible: goblins run a very tight society, since its pieces don’t usually fail all at once. He sighed, eyes fixed on his penis, so hard it was almost completely vertical. He then gritted his teeth and broke off to the left, towards the Goblin Elder’s house.

Atop a hill, not too tall but just enough to have a view of the entire village, sat a neat, ornate hut: elaborate wooden carvings decorated its traditional stone walls and a gigantic (for a goblin) garden flanked its doors. On the porch was a polished rocking chair, and a very old goblin was peacefully swinging on it. His beard was so long and bushy that he constantly needed to shift it: first to remove it from the book he was reading, then to take it out from a nearby bowl full of ripe fruit, which he constantly stuffed in his mouth.

His pastime had him so engrossed that he didn’t notice Lethlar jogging towards his house until he bent over to catch his breath, at about a rock throw’s distance. The old goblin peered inquisitively, munching non-stop.

“Oh, a visitor! Who is that? Please, stand upright! My eyes are not what they used to be, and this sun is not helping. I used to have marvelous sight, you know, but age… you know how it is. Back then, I-”

His rant was cut off when his guest finally stood up and his massive erection was on display; it was a wonder even his whole body could block it from view.

“Ah, I see,” the Elder muttered. He then waved his hand, turning back to his book. “I hope you didn’t come to me for help with that: I’m not as young as to hump wildly like I used to, and a priestess already came today for the ‘offering’, you know. Try going to the temple! I’m sure they’ll be able to help you more than an old goblin, like I,” he added as he grabbed another piece of fruit.

“… Not here for that,” Lethlar stammered; his libido was starting to overpower his ability to speak. “Have warning: succubus captured. Hypnotized males, neglecting jobs. Don’t know why; weird magic shit. Please help, Elder.”

The tinkerer’s slurred speech had stopped the Elder’s snack mere centimeters from his mouth. He looked at the tinkerer with wide eyes.

“A succubus, you say. And the males were hypnotized? Oh, dear, it seems you young ones were not prepared to deal with a Glamour; that’s tricky stuff, I tell you,” he said.

He put his book aside, grabbed a cane almost taller than he was from the stool against which it was propped and slowly walked towards the other goblin.

“But you seem to have broken free, right? Not completely consequence-free, though,” he added, tapping the tinkerer’s hip with his cane; the young goblin’s tent bobbed. “But you’ve done the village a great service! It will not be an easy task to deal with a demon without all the Alphas, but a goblin squad with good coordination is a magnificent sight, you know; capable of almost anything, I reckon. I’ve seen it happen before, you know: goblins taking down a demon. More than seen it: I was part of it! There we were…”

The Elder started a narration that lasted for twenty straight minutes, getting more and more excited with every word. By the time he seemed to finish, he was sweating from reenacting the last five minutes of the story.

“And that’s why I never shave my beard anymore, you know,” he concluded, huffing. “Where was I? Oh, yeah! I’ll take care of this. Thank you, Lethlar,” he said, turning around to pat the tinkerer’s back, but the young goblin had left a long time ago. The Elder rubbed his chin. “I should chew him out for ignoring his elders, but the poor kid looked ready to burst. It was impressive enough that he managed to come here like that, so I guess I’ll give him a break. We both have more pressing matters, it seems,” and he started climbing down the hill.

Lethlar hadn’t stopped running since the instant he had given his message, trying to put as much space as possible between himself and the Guest Hut before his last remnants of self-preservation were overcome by his urges. Luckily, the Elder’s house was not too far from his objective, and he arrived at Cessa’s hut in a jiffy. It was a lovely, two-story house, painted a pleasant shade of forest green and decorated with shining stones that the huntress had probably found during her trips to the woods; if the tinkerer were in his sound mind, he’d probably have stopped to admire it.

As he was, though, he rushed to bang on the door. After a few seconds, a feminine voice came out from a window on the second floor, panting out the words:

“Busy; come later.”

The sexual desire in the gobliness’s voice was so thick that the tinkerer could basically feel it touching his penis. He knocked again, harder.

“If you make me come out, you better make me come!” she yelled again, annoyance mixing with the lust. Lethlar could not compose himself anymore: He opened the door and barged inside.

The first floor of the house was a fairly average goblin living room: a small, round table stood next to a stone furnace. Its owner’s personal touch manifested on all the hunting trophies that hung from the walls and on an equipment rack which displayed several blowpipes, bows, and daggers and had some camouflage straps hastily discarded on top.

A stone staircase at the bottom of the room connected with a trapdoor on the second floor; Lethlar ran madly towards it. He’d barely set one foot on the bottom step when Cessa’s torso poked out of the trapdoor; on her hand was a large dildo, two-quarters of which were slick with her fluids.

“Who is -” she started speaking, but cut herself off when she saw Lethlar and, more importantly, his strained loincloth.

“Hi, Cessa…” the tinkerer stuttered, mostly because of his heat, but partly because he remembered once again having ignored her plea; he awkwardly wriggled his hands. “Um,” he added, “still need help with that?” he asked, as apologetically as he could in his state, but aware that he couldn’t take “no” for an answer.

The huntress narrowed her eyes. For barely a second, she considered telling him to piss off and make him really regret ignoring her before; after all, it was obvious he needed it more than her. But then again… he did show up to help. Plus, goblins should not ignore other goblins, and two wrongs don’t make a right; plus, she was so fucking horny! She beckoned him with the fake wang to come up and disappeared from the trapdoor. Lethlar rushed after her, reaching the second floor in two leaps.

Cessa’s room was as neatly built as the rest of her house, if a little unkempt, with many bottles and empty food containers strewn around the floor. This didn’t matter to the male goblin; by now, the only one that held any and all of his attention was currently on all fours on top of the bed that occupied most of the room, cleaning it up.

“Gimme just a second,” she said, crawling and sweeping away the countless dildos that covered the bed. “I was having a little trouble coming,” she mumbled, examining a particularly elaborate one before tossing it away, “but I hope that now that you’re HERE!” she yelped: Lethlar had finally lost control after seeing her shapely tushie up in the air, and had jumped on her to bury his face on her drenched muff.

After so many hours keeping his biology in check, the tinkerer was totally gone. He dug the huntress asshole with his pointy nose, taking as much of her musk as he could. His hands trembled with need, but he craved more than just physical release. He started lapping at the puffy pussy in front of him, drilling deep into her with his tongue. Her fuckhole happily welcomed his assault, letting out enough amount of girlcum to cover his entire face.

Undeterred, Lethlar’s swallowed it all like a thirsty castaway and used his tongue to instead coat her insides with his saliva. His hands grabbed the huntress’ sculpted ass like onto a lifeline, letting his long fingers sink on the viridian flesh while his mouth did the same on her starving cunt.

“Ooooohhhh, yeah… Work that tongue, 'Lar,” cooed the gobliness. “I’m already prepped, but I don’t mind it if you want to play around for a bit.”

But it seemed as if the time to play around was over: the tinkerer let go of her butt for just enough to rip his loincloth away, freeing his rock-hard dick. Cessa licked her lips, and spread her ass-cheeks with her hands, marking the target for his battering ram: her velvety goblin pussy, green and soft on the outside, pink and even softer on the inside, shiny with precum and spit. With no further notice, the male goblin buried his dick inside her with all his might.

“AUGH!” Cessa screamed, half-pleasure and half-pain. “Hey, take it easy, boy! We’re both on edge, let’s enjoy it a bit more,” she said.

Her lover didn’t reply; in fact, he didn’t give any sign of having heard her before he started to piston furiously into her, making her yip once more. Cessa turned around to scold him, but the tinkerer’s glassy eyes and slobbering mouth showed her it was futile: he was lost in the unbridled search for release. All she could do was try to weather the storm.

She stopped trying to fight it, and instead did her best to hold on while Lethlar masturbated with her body: she grabbed one of her pillows and put it under her hips, so the tinkerer could have an easier time slamming into her, and rested her head into another, occasionally biting into it whenever his cock reached a particularly deep spot inside her; once her partner’s frantic thrusting plateaued and she relaxed enough to get used to it, the pillow became covered in her slobber and her moans drowned the slapping of their bodies against each other.

Still, the tinkerer gave no sign of slowing down. His hips were a blur as he hilted over and over inside the huntress, and while the feeling of finally having his dick engulfed in pliable goblin pussy returned him a tiny fraction of consciousness, just enough to avoid hurting his partner too bad, he doubled his efforts as he approached his orgasm.

He dug his claws into Cessa’s ass, grabbing as much green flesh as he could, and climbed on the bed in one jump, trying to reach as deep as he could possibly do. The gobliness let out a long and pained groan, but her starving honeypot accepted the full length of the tinkerer. In this position, Lethlar resumed thrusting, with enough force to bury the huntress’ head on the bed; she had no choice but to surrender herself and let her body handle the brunt of her lover’s frantic fucking.

Luckily for her, she didn’t need to hold on for too long. Just a couple of minutes later, she felt Lethlar tense up on top of her. Willing to make the most of the situation, the gobliness pushed back for the first and last time, tightening her pussy all she could. The tinkerer let out a groan of satisfaction as his cock entered his lover’s womb and unleashed a torrent of semen, filling it immediately.

Cessa also groaned and laid immobile, enjoying each shot of cum hitting her insides as her eyes rolled inside her head and her claws tore into the pillow she was using as support.

After a few instants that felt like a blissful eternity for both, Lethlar finally pulled out of the huntress and plopped aside, almost falling off the bed. The ocean of cum inside her was undoubtedly too much for her abused pussy to hold, and it instantly started to leak, forming a puddle on the bed.

As the tinkerer laid gasping for breath, the final waves of his orgasm cleared the remaining clouds of his brain and he was finally able to hear Cessa’s words:

“Got it all out of your system, yet? ‘Cause we both know it: that was all you, baby.”

Her tone as a mixture of amusement and disappointment. Lethlar blushed.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’d been holding it in for a long time, and -”

“No excuses, four-eyes! We’re not teenagers, unable to handle their first heat,” she cut him off; her harsh words were said in a playful tone that somewhat calmed Lethlar down. “Now come here and finish the job appropriately,” she exclaimed, seductively, as she shifted to a sitting position and spread her legs; a single droplet of cum escaped her pussy and rolled down her inner thigh.

The tinkerer gulped. He started to approach the huntress, but he was briefly stopped by a voice in his head: his own, or rather, the voice of his un-goblin-like side, reminding of the work to be done now that his “biological condition” didn’t hinder him. It wasn’t nearly as strong as the pull that Cessa’s tantalizing sex had over him, but it was a constant nagging that he knew he couldn’t ignore.

'Alright, let’s think about this rationally,' he tried to reason with himself. 'On the one hand, I could excuse myself and return to work without helping her finish, but that would be a mean, shitty thing to do to another goblin; twice as shitty to do it to Cessa, after what happened this afternoon. Besides, she has me half-hard already, so I would walk all the way home just to find myself back on square one. It’s better to wrap it up correctly, and then I’ll have no distractions and won’t have burned a bridge with the alpha huntress. All in agreement?' No “buts” returned from the void of his mind.

Having reached a consensus with himself, Lethlar crawled towards the gobliness. He caressed her thighs, enjoying the entrancing contrast of her soft, verdant skin with her well-defined muscles for a few moments.

Then, he grabbed her legs and placed them on his shoulders; his lover laughed like a schoolgirl as she landed on her back. He roamed his hands on her legs for a bit longer, rubbing and teasing every inch of her flesh. Every now and then, he planted a kiss on the gobliness’s thigh or knee, lightly rubbing it with his tusks. His ministrations proved as effective on himself than on her: his dick had reached full mast and almost touched his partner’s labia; they were hot like a furnace.

“Enough playing around!” Cessa panted, nudging his head with her knee.

Lethlar, realizing she was almost at the same point where he had been earlier, obliged: he plunged as deep into her as he could, but slowly so his partner could feel every inch of cock going inside of her.

The huntress moaned loudly, letting her tongue fall out of her mouth. She didn’t quite come just from this, but she was very close, so the tinkerer started to pump; slowly at first, trying to build her orgasm, but as his own heat began to resurface, his hips sped up more and more to the point where he had to grip her strong legs tightly to prevent them from falling over.

With every thrust of the tinkerer, Cessa felt electricity run through her brain; every shock brought her closer to orgasm and, ironically, got a little of her clarity back. The pleasure she was getting had dissipated enough of the fog inside her head that she could take a more active role: she removed her legs from her partner’s shoulders and quickly wrapped them around his waist, pulling him towards her.

Lethlar, too lost in the throes of passion to notice, almost toppled off her, and managed to hold on by grabbing onto her breasts.

“Hello there,” Cessa quipped, her face inches from his. Her hair was a mess and her face was so flushed that her green skin almost looked purple.

The tinkerer didn’t reply, instead, locking lips with her. They started to mash their mouths with such ferocity that their tusks often knocked, but they were both too close to climax to care. The gobliness threw her arms around his neck and spread her legs as much as they could; he replied in kind by throwing his whole weight on top of her, trying to make his dick reach even farther inside her box, and increasing the rhythm of his thrusts even further.

It didn’t take long: a few seconds later, Cessa screamed into his mouth and Lethlar grunted back, and they both clutched each other tightly as the tinkerer let out a second, slightly less copious river of cum inside of her. She tried to draw him even further into herself with her legs, beckoning him to drain his balls inside her womb as her orgasm made her quake.

The male goblin took a while to let it all out, during which both their heads were as white as the huntress’ love tunnel probably was. Finally, he felt the last of his strength leave him, and he slipped off his lover and onto the mattress. His dick slid out of Cessa’s satisfied hole with an obscene sound and a steady stream of sperm followed it soon after, unable to be contained inside her completely full tummy. She didn’t do anything to stop it, mostly too tired to care, but also slightly enjoying the feeling of the slimy liquid leaving her. She sighed, contented.

“That was more like it. Thanks, ‘Lar,” she said, turning to her partner.

“It was entirely my pleasure, I assure you,” he replied with a smile, which the huntress returned.

“Better than a succubus, right?” she asked.

“… yeah,” he agreed after a few moments of consideration, if only because his fear of the succubus’ glamour offset any advantages she could have had.

They laid on the huntress’ bed for a while. The night had totally settled in when they regained enough energy to slowly get up, covered in both of their fluids. Cessa wiped herself with a still-clean corner of the bedsheet and threw another a Lethlar, motioning him to do the same.

“Man, what a fuck-fest! I’ll have to clean this mess soon, but I need to eat, first: I was so horny, I didn’t realize how hungry I was! What about you, ‘Lar? Want to grab a bite?” she asked gleefully; no sign of the sexually scorned gobliness remained.

“I’ll take a raincheck on that, Cessa… I actually have to get back to work,” replied the tinkerer, now completely focused on resuming his project.

“I swear… one day, we’re going to find you starved to death next to a pile of scrap,” she said, shaking her head.

Both goblins walked down the stairs and towards the exit, exchanging playful banter about their recent mating session, until Cessa opened the door.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” she exclaimed.

The village was completely dark. Well, not completely: a few houses here and there had their lights on, and a couple of street torches were lit. However, most of the village (far more than half), appeared abandoned. The tinkerer merely frowned with increased worry, but the huntress was freaking out.

“What is happening? Why are so many houses in the dark, and no smoke coming out? What happened to everyone, where are they!?” she exclaimed.

“If I had to hazard a guess… the men are probably at the Guest Hut and the women are trying to keep up with their jobs,” Lethlar mumbled. The gobliness turned to him with her eyes wide open.

“WHAT!? Are you all idiots? I get being too excited to fuck a demon, but skipping your duties for the whole day? Are you children!?” she yelled. The tinkerer recoiled, frowning.

“Don’t take it out on me: I was trying to get back to work. Besides, I reported it to the Chief before coming here.”

Cessa took a deep breath.

“You’re right, sorry. However, the Chief alone is not going to be enough for something of this caliber. Come: we need to gather the whole village; or, at least, those that are left. That’s the only way we can come up with a solution.”

Before she could start walking, Lethlar’s stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry! I’m making a machine that’s going to fix all this. Just leave it to me,” he said with a confident smile. Cessa smiled back, but condescendingly.

“'Lar, you’re a clever goblin, but that’s just it: you’re a single goblin. And that’s not enough,” she said and ran at full speed into the darkened village.

The tinkerer stood, immobile, for a few moments. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and balled his fists.

“You’re wrong. You’re all wrong. I’ll show that a single goblin is enough when that goblin is ME,” he said through clenched teeth and started walking in another direction: towards his workshop.