Ava wasn’t worried.
Sure, she was stuck underground with a horde of goblins, separated from the group, alone, and unarmed. But this was the perfect opportunity to further her story!
She smiled as she glided down the dark corridors.
She needed no light, though the pitch darkness was suffocating. Her ears flicked, the air stale, but she could sense the subtle motion in it.
Elves were highly attuned to the ebbs and flows of their surroundings.
Coupled with skills learned through decades of living in the forest and the groves, she felt confident that she could find her way around, and avoid any unnecessary dangers.
And when she smelled the faint scent of smoke and cooking meat, she knew she’d just found some very necessary danger.
Her feet whispered across the floor as she hurried down the stone passage. A crumbling doorway lay ahead, half open.
Not far, a pair of goblin guards were sitting, playing a game with bones and some dice.
Now and then they glanced at the doorway, but it was clear they weren’t really paying attention. After all, what could happen so deep in their own lair?
Ava happened, waiting until the attention of the guards were once more on the dice before she slipped by and into the room, shutting the crude wooden door behind her with a creak.
The room she was in looked to have once been some kind of ritual chamber, though now served as someone’s home.
An altar sat in the middle, blood channels carved to form leering faces. The walls were draped with roots, half obscuring the strange images carved in the stone. A fire had been kindled in a corner, an empty spit suspended above it.
"Who are you?"
Lacy jumped, turned towards where a mass of straw and plundered fabric had been gathered in a bed in the corner, and upon it lay an elf.
She was far curvier than Ava, but that was no surprise. All elven matriarchs plumped up a little as they entered their second millenia or so.
Her hair was a brilliant white, if somewhat matted, her breasts heavy and full, nipples plump and Ava caught the sweet scent of milk in the air. Her wrists and ankles were shackled to the wall, but her eyes looked more amused than beaten or fearful.
"Um, hi," Ava said. "I’m Ava Copperman."
"Copperman?" the other elf said, sitting up attentively. "Any relation to Frayura Copperman?"
Ava gasped. "That’s my aunt! Did you know her?"
The other elf lazily stood, a picture of shapely beauty. Her chains clinked as she planted a hand on a wide, breeding hip. "I should say so! Why, we met centuries ago, sucking the cock of the Horned One himself. Didn’t she ever talk about Amaria Loveroot?"
"You’re that Amaria? Oh my gosh!" Ava gushed. "She always talked about how you and she left the grove together! Did you really end up as a fertility idol to a minotaur clan?"
Amaria laughed until her breasts bounced. "Well, you know how it is. Take enough bull cocks and they’ll name you anything! So, I see you’ve come to follow the family tradition, hm?"
"I did?" Ava said.
"Of course!" Amaria said as she idly gestured at the filthy, smoky chamber. "Haven’t you come to be the breeding slut of the goblin tribe."
"Oh! Oh gosh! No no!" Ava giggled. "No, I’m a reporter!"
"A reporter? What’s that?"
"It’s um... It’s kinda hard to explain. It’s a big city thing. I basically gather stories and write them out for people to read in a newspaper. They’re called articles, and are like stories. But true events."
"Sort of like a bard, then?"
"Sorta," Ava said.
"Hm," Amaria said, rolling her shoulders, her heavy breasts swaying.
Ava realized she was staring and quickly looked back to the eyes of the older elf, which sparkled with amusement.
"How curious," Amaria mused. "I thought for sure the first thing a niece of Frayura would do once she left the grove was find a fat monster cock to take."
"Oh, I was!" Ava said. "But then I found this paper in an inn and it was like a revelation! So I went to the city and started out. And you’re the chained slave to a goblin chief?"
"Hm? Oh," Amaria laughed, jangling the manacles. "These? Goodness no. Gherkin just likes me tied up while he fucks me. Here," she said, flicking open the manacles with ease, letting them clatter to the floor. "See?"
"Aw, what a sweetheart," Ava said.
"Mhmm. He is quite delightful," Amaria mused as she eyed the other elf. She licked her lips thoughtfully. "But come, Ava. Have a seat. It’s been ages since I’ve spoken to another elf. Literally. What year are we in?"
"The year of the Flying Rhino," Ava said as she took a seat on the crude bed, unable to tear her eyes from the soft, fertile curves of the other woman.
"My my. The last time I checked, we were still in the year of the Great Frog. How time flies. Of course," Amaria said as she sat next to Ava, leaning close to the younger elf. "It tends to when having... fun..."
Ava inhaled again, taking in the scent of Amaria. That heady aroma of milk and goblin cum. The stink of monster filled the room, but not even that was as potent as Amaria.
Ava giggled, again finding herself staring at the other elf’s big breasts, her head spinning a bit.
"Um, how did you come to meet this Gherkin?" Ava asked, swallowing as she watched milk slowly drip from Amaria’s nipples.
"Oh, you know, it was a bit of a whirlwind romance," Amaria said. "He was prowling around with his tribe, looking for a place to set up camp. I happened to make my way into their path. You know, I do love a good goblin gangbang, but once the tribe had a taste, Gherkin caught wind and wanted me all to himself. Breeding, you know? Goblins are obsessed with it."
"So, you, um, you’ve had babies with him?" Ava asked.
"Hadn’t you guessed?" Amaria laughed, cradling her breasts and giving them a squeeze.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter