#goblins x reader

One steps forward. Taller than the rest—which means he barely reaches your shoulder. His cock hangs out. You see it immediately because he's not hiding it. None of them are. They're naked. Every single one. And every single one is half-hard, leathery sacs swinging between spindly thighs, shafts nothing like human ones. Thick, long making it difficult for them to move.

"That's the one," he says, and his voice drips satisfaction. He grabs your chin. His fingers are cold. "That's the breeder."

You try to spit. He squished your cheeks and stropped you.

"None of that, little doe." He smiles darkly. "We been empty down here. No females in three seasons. You know what three seasons without a cunt does to a tribe?"

Behind him, another goblin laughs. "Makes 'em hungry."

"We're starving," the first one agrees. He lets go of your face and steps back. "And you're dinner."

You scramble backward. Your heel hits something soft. A green hand clamps around your ankle.

"No running," whispers the goblin behind you. His breath smells like meat. "No running at all."

They drag you to the center of the cavern. Furs are piled there. You thrash. You kick. You catch one in the jaw and he screeches but doesn't let go. Another pins your arm. Another takes your other leg. They stretch you out like a sacrifice.

The first goblin kneels between your thighs. He pushes your dress up past your hips. Your smallclothes rip away in one tug.

"Look at that," he breathes. His yellow eyes fix between your legs. "Look at that fat little slit."

His thumb presses against your entrance. You're dry. Terrified. But his thumb is rough and calloused and it drags across your clit anyway, once, twice, and your body betrays you with a twitch.

"Oh, she's got some juice in her," he says. He shows the other goblins his thumb. It's wet. "Tastes sweet. Want some?"

He puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks it clean.

Then his face is between your thighs.

His tongue is longer than a human's. Pointed. It laves up your slit in one hot, wet stroke and you hate the sound you make. A gasp that cracks into a moan. He does it again. Slower. He presses the flat of his tongue against your clit and circles and you buck up into his mouth like a whore.

"That's it," he growls against your flesh. "That's it, little doe. Get wet for us. Get sloppy."

His fingers join his tongue. One. Two. They're thinner than human fingers but longer. They curl inside you and find that rough patch on your front wall and he scrapes and you scream.

Not from pain.

From the shock of pleasure that punches through your belly.

"She likes it," another goblin observes. He's stroking himself now. His cock is thick, the head almost black with engorgement. "She's a natural slut for goblin cock."

"She hasn't had any yet," the tall one says. He pulls his fingers out. They're coated. He holds them up. "Smell that, brothers. That's a human female ripe and ready."

He shoves three fingers back in. Your pussy stretches around them. The wet sounds are obscene. He finger-fucks you hard and fast, his palm slapping against your clit each time, and you can't stop your hips from rolling. Can't stop your thighs from spreading wider.

"Please," you gasp. You don't know what you're begging for.

"I know what you need." He pulls his fingers out. Positions the head of his cock at your entrance. "You need to be filled."

He shoves in.

All the way, one brutal thrust that splits you open. Your back arches off the furs. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream. He's thicker than his fingers, veined, ridged in places human cocks aren't ridged, and every ridge scrapes your walls as he sinks to the hilt.

"Gods," he hisses. His clawed hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise. "Gods, her cunt is clenching. Squeezing me like a fist."

He pulls out. Shoves back in. The ridges drag in reverse and you sob.

"That's right. Cry. I want to hear it." He sets a rhythm. Deep. Grinding. Each thrust punches the air from your lungs. "So tight. So fucking tight. We're gonna wreck this hole."

Another goblin appears at your head. You didn't see him move. He grabs your hair and pulls your head back, and his cock is there—long, curving slightly upward. The tip presses against your lips.

"Open," he says.

You clamp your mouth shut.

He pinches your nose.

You hold out for ten seconds. Twenty. Your lungs burn. Your eyes water. You gasp for air and his cock shoves past your teeth.

"That's a good little doe." He feeds you his length. Not all of it, just enough to fill your mouth, to tease against the back of your throat. "Suck. Or I'll go deeper."

You suck. Your tongue drags along the underside of his shaft. He tastes like salt and something muskier. He groans and his hips twitch and you choke.

"Easy," he murmurs. "Easy. You'll learn."

Below, the first goblin fucks faster. His balls slap your ass with each stroke. The wetness is constant now, your cunt drooling around his cock, coating his shaft, dripping down to the furs. He notices.

"You're creaming on me," he says. "Look, brothers. Look at her cream."

They gather closer. Yellow eyes stare at where you're joined. You should be humiliated. You are humiliated. But the shame is distant, muffled by the fullness in your pussy and the weight on your tongue.

"She needs more," someone says.

"Patience," the tall one grunts. "I'm not done with this cunt yet."

He pulls out. You whine around the cock in your mouth.

"Shh," says the goblin above you. "He's just giving someone else a turn."

True. Another goblin is already climbing between your thighs. This one is smaller but his cock is not—thick as a beer bottle, the head flared like a mushroom. He doesn't tease. He lines up and pushes.

You scream around the shaft in your throat.

He's too big. He's too big. Your pussy burns as it stretches, as the flared head pops past your entrance and the shaft follows inch by inch. The goblin above you pulls his cock from your mouth so you can breathe.

"Too much," you gasp. "Too—"

"No such thing," the goblin says as he rocks his hips, working the last inch inside you. "There. See? All of it fits."

Your vision goes spotty. You feel impossibly full, stuffed to bursting. He pulls back and thrusts forward and the flare of his head drags against your cervix and you sob.

"She's crying," someone says.

"Good tears," the tall one answers. He's moved to your side, stroking himself and watching. "Look at her face. She's not in pain anymore."

He's right. The burn has faded to a deep ache that throbs with every pulse of your heart. The goblin above you—the one with the curving cock—kneels by your head again.

"Open."

You open. He slides back into your mouth. This time you suck without being told. Your tongue works the underside of his shaft, finds the ridge where the head meets the shaft, laps at it. He shudders.

"She's learning fast."

"Goblins teach well."

The one in your pussy fucks you with that deep rhythm. Each stroke pushes against your cervix, not quite breaching it, just nudging, reminding you how deep he is. Your hips start moving with him. You hate yourself for it but your body doesn't care about hate. Your body wants to be pleasured.

"Flip her," the tall one says.

The goblin in your cunt pulls out. You feel empty. Hands grab you, turn you onto your stomach, pull your hips up. Your dress falls around your shoulders. You're naked from the waist down, exposed, presented.

Two of them press against you from behind.

"Double," one says. "I want double."

"Hold her open."

Fingers spread your cunt lips. Something cold and wet drips onto your anus—spit, you realize. Someone's saliva. A thumb presses against the tight ring of muscle and you flinch.

"Shh," comes the soft voice again. "Shh, little doe. It'll hurt but then it won't. You'll see."

The thumb pushes inside. You clench and he waits, patient, until your body relaxes around the intrusion. Then a second finger. Stretching. Burning. He scissors them and you moan into the furs.

"Ready," he says.

A goblin slipped under you, his cock nudging your cunt. You lowered to take him while the second—the one with the flared head—presses against your ass.

"On three," someone says, and laughs.

They push together.

You lose your breath. Lose your voice. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. Two shafts filling you simultaneously, the thin wall between them so sensitive you feel every ridge, every vein, every twitch. They're different temperatures—one warmer than the other. One longer, one thicker. They slide against each other through your flesh.

"Fuck," groans the one in your cunt. "She's milking me."

"Both holes," the other gasps. "Both holes gripping."

They start moving. Not in sync. One thrusts while the other pulls, either way you're always full, always stretched, always being fucked from both sides. The friction is maddening. The fullness is delirious.

"More," you hear yourself say. "Please, more—"

"More what, little doe?"

"More. More."

The goblin in your cunt finds your clit. His fingers are slick with your wetness. He circles the hard nub and you shatter. The orgasm rips through you without warning. Your pussy spasms, clenching and releasing, and the goblins groan in unison.

Your ass clenches too, gripping the cock there like a vise. You're sobbing now, tears hot on your cheeks, but you're also pushing back against them, grinding, desperate to keep them inside while your body shakes apart.

"She came," someone says, wonder in his voice.

"She came on goblin cock."

"She's ours now."

They don't stop. They keep fucking you through the aftershocks, through the oversensitivity that makes you whimper, through the next orgasm that builds without your permission. Your mind is static. All you know is the stretch, the fullness, the guttural sounds they make behind you.

Their seed floods you, drips down your thighs.

They pull out. You collapse onto the furs, leaking, trembling.

"Not done," says the tall one. You'd forgotten about him. He's been watching, stroking himself, waiting. "Not even close."

He presses you further down. Spreads your thighs. Your cunt is gaping now—you can feel the cool air inside you—and he stares at it.

"Beautiful," he says. "Destroyed and beautiful."

He positions himself behind. But instead of your cunt, he pushes against your ass.

"I want this one," he says. "It's still tight."

He pushes in. Your ass has been stretched but not enough. The burn returns. He's thick and he doesn't stop until his hips meet your asscheeks.

"Look at me," he commands.

You look. His yellow eyes bore into yours.

"You're not leaving this lair," he says. "You know that, right? We're going to breed you. Fill you every day. Every hour. Until your belly swells with goblin young."

He thrusts. Your eyes roll back.

"Until your tits drip milk for our spawn."

Another thrust. You moan.

"Until you can't remember your own name. Just ours. Just this."

He fucks your ass hard. His balls slap against your cunt, still wet and dripping, and the sensation is too much—another orgasm crashes into you without warning, making your whole body convulse. He keeps going. Fucks you through it. With every stroke and you can't stop coming, can't stop shaking, can't stop wanting.

"Take it," he growls. "Take all of it."

He comes in your ass. The heat floods you and he stays inside until he softens, then pulls out, watching his cum drip from your stretched hole.

You lie there. Broken open. Used. Filled.

**************

Time loses meaning.

They take turns. Three of them fucking you at once, somties four or five. Using your cunt at once—impossible, but they manage, two fingers from one goblin stretching you alongside a cock, your ass filled with one or two cocks while another uses your mouth.

You learn to breathe through your nose. Learn to swallow. Learn to beg without shame.

They arrange themselves like a wheel around you, holding you up, fucking every hole simultaneously. You can't move. Can't speak. Can only exist as the vessel for their pleasure.

"You're taking it so well," they murmur. "So fucking well, little doe."

The tall one—their leader, you learn his name is Rikkit fucks your throat until you gag and tears stream down your face. He calls you his pretty little cocksleeve. You moan around his shaft.

Another one spends an hour between your thighs, licking and sucking, drawing orgasm after orgasm from your exhausted body. He smiles when you try to push his head away. "No," he says. "You want this. Your cunt is dripping for it."

He's right. You're always wet now. Always ready and leaking goblin cum.

They come on your face, your chest, your belly. They paint your skin with seed and lick it off. They call you their doe, their breeder, their little human whore.

And you love it.

The realization hits you sometime around the fourth hour—or the eighth, or the twelfth. You're on your hands and knees, five of them around you, taking turns while the others watch. Your arms shake. Your thighs are slick with cum. Your holes are so full they ache.

Rikkit kneels in front of you. His cock is hard again—always hard, they recover so fast. He cups your chin.

"Look at you," he says. "Three seasons we waited for a female. Three seasons of nothing. And then we find you." He strokes your cheek. "You're not fighting anymore."

You're not. You lean into his touch.

"Why would I fight?" Your voice is hoarse from screaming. "This is... this is..."

"Say it."

You close your eyes. "This is what I needed."

He kisses you. His mouth tastes like your own cunt and goblin seed. You kiss him back. Behind you, a cock pushes into your cunt. Another into your ass. They thrust in opposite rhythms and you moan into Rikkit's mouth.

"We're going to keep you," he whispers against your lips. "Forever."

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Yes."

*************

Weeks later, after many more goblin bangs... when the torches have burned low and the other goblins have collapsed in exhausted piles around the cavern, Rikkit slides into your lap. His finers slide into your cunt easily. You're gaping now, so well-fucked, that there's no resistance. Just fullness. Just warmth.

"You're carrying," he says.

You press your hand to your lower belly. It's too soon to know but something feels different. A weight you hadn't noticed before.

"Maybe," you whisper.

"No maybe." He curls his fingers. "I can smell it. We all can. You're ripe with our seed."

You should be horrified. You should be planning your escape.

Instead, you grind down on his fingers and smile.

"Good," you say.

He laughs. "Good, little doe? You want to swell with goblin spawn?"

"I want to stay." You look around the cavern at the sleeping goblins. At their sharp faces and twisted limbs and yellow eyes. At the cocks still half-hard even in sleep. "I don't want to leave."

"You can't leave," he says simply. "You're ours. This is your home now."

He fingers you slow and deep. Not for his pleasure—yours. He watches your face as you come apart again, as you moan and cling to his shoulders, as you drip down his shaft for the hundredth time. When you collapse, he strokes your back.

"Sleep," he murmurs. "Tomorrow we start again."

Word surely spreads, of course, of what happens inside those shadowy caves. Sometimes, the visitor even manages to get the propped up treasure before they crawl out of there. But it matters not; the goblins set up another treasure from their hidden pile, and in comes someone new.

This time, in comes you. A lantern in hand, hesitant steps carrying you along the cramped passageways. You’re dressed as the typical adventurer is; sturdy boots, thick clothing to keep the cold out, a machete on your belt, a bag on your back. The faint noise everything makes–down to the flickering of the fire within your lantern–keeps all attention on you. There’s no hiding from what lurks in the shadows as you descend further into the caves. The promise of a golden chalice lined with jewels lures you in.

All the way in.

Right to the very gap in the wall that shines golden and tempting. 

The goblins watch from their secret perches when you shrug off your backpack and set aside your lantern. Heat blooms deep beyond their bellies while you drop to your knees. You have to angle your shoulders a little awkwardly to get them through, letting your quiet hums and grunts tease them in endless echoes. 

They’re beyond aching when you get your upper half through and that first pebble falls to the ground. You shift; hands flat on the ground where the chalice sits just out of reach, knees ready to push the rest of you through to get to it. To claim your treasure.

The spell kicks in.

The rocks shift in one fell swoop, and your surprised shriek cuts through the gaps.

Instantly, the goblins rush you. The timer has started, and there are so many of them eager and impatient. Their dozens of feet slap against the stony ground in quick succession–the sound acting as the only warning that you are, in fact, not alone within those caves. They bounce and echo and sink in closer. Closer. Closer. But as you squirm, push, and writhe–you have nowhere to go.

The wall doesn’t give; not even by a single pebble.

And all the shimmy of your hips just makes them ready to burst.

There’s nothing you can do but stare at the golden chalice when they reach you. Looking over the rubies and sapphires glinting in a single stray of sunlight creeping in from above. The gold hue overtakes the room with a taunting, mocking glow right as you feel the dozens of hands yank at your belt. Boots. Pants.

Your underwear goes down with your bottoms.

Strong arms force your knees apart. 

Rough fingers grope right as the cold slams into you.

They froth at the mouth at the mere sight of you. They have a system and a rotation so all goes smoothly each time. It’s practiced chaos, but still chaos. 

You squirm beneath their touch. Hips wiggling as frantically while you shout for help. But the sound barely carries through the wall between you, let alone through the winding turns and deep depths to the hidden entrance of the cave. 

They’re ravenous. Desperate. Feral. They hold your legs apart for each other, then grope higher. Spreading you to see your asshole and cunt. They watch you quiver and squirm; clench and unclench. Their spit falls in thick globs, making you jolt and pull at their grasps, but they hold firm, licking their lips as their cocks pulse and leak.

They feel you, first. Keeping you held open for everyone to watch, they grope, rub, touch, taste. Fingers digging into the meat of your ass, rubbing their thick spit over your asshole, down between the folds of your cunt. They snicker and groan and moan. Pinching your clit between their uncaring fingers until your hips angle back and you’re shouting through the wall. They come closer and gather up spit on their fingers and press it into your cunt–one at a time at first, feeling your wet, warm cunt squeeze around them. The same way your asshole does as they press a finger into you there.

You seize up, shaking, trying to pull yourself through the wall that won’t give. The light of your lantern illuminates their grins and hungry eyes. It creates a view of the sea that their snickers fall into; each goblin with a cock hard and leaking for you. Each ready to burst as your holes squeeze and your hips jolt.

One spanks you hard, making you lurch and shout.

One crawls underneath you and pulls the hood back on your clit before wrapping its mouth around it. Your hips shove back and your back arches as they suck hard and don’t let up.

One straddles your back and hauls out their celebratory bottle they refill for every trapped victim. A pop of the cork and a little tilt, and all beam wide-eyed as the clear oil is drizzled over your exposed bottom. All of your exposed bottom.

Through the wall, you hang your head as one finger becomes two, pumping into your holes rough and deep. They stretch you as they fuck you, those in your cunt curling to hit your g-spot with such extreme directness, you lose your next breath and try to gasp to catch it. But the mouth on your clit sucks again, and tears well up as your pussy pulses.

Laughter bounces around the lantern-lit area. Your pussy drips as two fingers become four different ones, all pumping in at different times. Five wiggle inside your asshole, and one spits into you as they collectively hold you open and spread. 

Soon….

Your pussy squeezes their fingers again.

Another goblin joins the one underneath you, taking turns lapping at your clit. Taking turns flicking it. Rubbing it. Pinching it. Playing with it like that little sensitive toy they know it is. Making you squeal through the wall; feeling every small movement you make as they torment you. 

Soon….

The squelching grows louder. Your shouts turn away from pleas and into gasps; whines. You stammer and stutter, but it doesn’t last. Not when your pussy drips around their fingers. Not when you tense up and arch your back. Not when your thighs quiver and your clit swells and you clench around all of their fingers in a hard, involuntary pulsing that lingers. And lingers. And….

Their cocks leak and twitch when your sob break through the wall.

A hard shudder rocks you. Your elbows give out and you collapse, staring with bleary vision at the floor of that little room. Trembling. Drooling. Moaning. As your body falls into a blinding, choking orgasm. It rips through you from your clawing hands to your curling toes. Clenching around the invasive fingers and tongues pushing their way into you. Gushing around them. Squirting. 

The mess you make earns you five more hard spanks, and the stomach-dropping moment as you lurch with each one that they’re not stopping.

More fingers wiggle their way into you.

You drop your head onto your arms when rough fingers rub your clit in harsh, tight circles that make you claw at the stone. It’s too much, but your mouth falls open with pleas that go on deaf ears. They don’t stop.

They don’t stop when you cum again, the room wanting to spin around you. Hands pin you still so you just keep taking it. Everything. Every tongue that glides over you, into you; every spanking that burns your ass; every finger that pumps in and pulls out.

Every finger that stays out. 

Every finger that is replaced with something thicker.

A single one at first.

Thick and filling; warm; pulsing. Leaking.

They climb over you to stuff their cocks into you. Starting singularly–gripping you with bruising holds, fucking into you hard and fast. Like goddamn jackhammers filling you up and ramming into you. Over and over and over.

Then, there’s more. More stretch. More filling.

Another tongue on your clit, lapping at it just as hard and fast.

The room spins around you as their driving cocks twist you into pleasure. Endless, sharp, rough pleasure. Filling you up. Stuffing you full. Stopping when their balls clench and they spill into you; spilling thick globs of cum into you one by one. Turn after turn. Goblin after goblin. Together.

Cum leaks down. It falls out of you as it’s fucked into you. It’s rubbed over your clit while you cum again.

And again.

Mocking laughter shoots around as you shudder and shake; climaxing and climaxing and climaxing again.

And again.

And again.

The hours tick by.

They take turns.

They finger you. Lick you. Fuck you.

The room fades to black when you cum again–squirting around the three cocks bullying their way into your cunt. Two more take turns in your ass. 

The goblins continue, marking the way the wall loosens bit by bit. Hour by hour. Until their time with you is up, and the gap reopens. Until you lay limp within it, holes stretched and leaking their cum, twitching as they rub your swollen clit a little more. As they watch in satisfaction as you cum again with a whine, pushing their cum out only for them to push it back in.

They leave you as is, returning to their shadowy home for the time being. A few hang back to watch you when you eventually wake. Stirring, shifting; groaning and barely able to get onto your hands. Cum still leaks out of you. It covers you; paints you; falls from you when you rise, stumbling forward through the last bit of the gap.

Up onto your weak legs.

Up to the little stone podium.

Up, weak and panting, plucking up the chalice.

You clean and dress yourself in silence. Tucking away the chalice worth more money than you’ll ever need to survive comfortably, you crawl back through the hole, retrieve your things, and stumble out of the cave. A price paid for such a life-changing treasure. 

As the setting sun blinds you, the goblins hobble down to their hole of treasures and pluck up another. They let old rumors spread and tuck the new treasure right atop that stone podium, and sit back. 

Night turns to day. Day to night. Night to day once more.

And just as that sun rises, a new stranger steps into the caves, murmuring about a secret treasure hidden at the bottom. He ventures deep into the depths with a lantern held out in confidence. 

The goblins beam and watch him every step of the way.