Chapter 1 - The Green-Skinned Scourge

Through a dense dark forest rode three warriors riding alongside a caravan of a richly dressed merchant. One of the guards was a beautiful woman with sun-browned skin and long crimson hair that looked to be of a living flame, he had supple sultry body with full ample breasts, wide hips and long slender shapely legs. Branwen rode on her bay mare through the Neurnín Forest as one of three guards for a traveling merchant. She was dressed for battle, in her helm and chainmail and her long hair was pulled back into a long pony-tail that reached down to the small of her back, for the merchant was a doltish grey-haired fat man. He chose the road through the forest as it was a shortcut but it put them at risk from bandit ambushes and dangerously close to goblin territory. She tried to warn them but they had paid her no heed.
          
          All was quiet save for bird song and the pitter-patter of morning dew dripping from the leaves. Branwen squirmed in her saddle, the armor tightly confined her large ample breasts pressing them against her chest making it difficult to breath. Then the thum of a bowstring. One of the guards doubled over in his saddle clutching a black feathered arrow jutting out from his chest. Arrows rained down from all directions.
          
          “Ambush, ambush,” the other guard cried before an arrow took him through the eye. Dozens of short green-skinned creatures poured out from the woods. Goblins, damn. Keeping low, Branwen spurred her horse forward.
 
          “Ride, don’t stop,” she shouted riding alongside the covered wagon. The driver had caught an arrow in his shoulder but took the reins in his good hand and cracked them. The wagon lurched, lumbering forward, it barreled down the road.
 
          “What the hell are they?” the merchant yelled.
 
          “Goblins, a whole pack of them. If they catch us, the best we can hope for is a quick death.” Goblins are noted as being cruel creatures, tales from those fortunate enough to escape tell of men butchered and left to die while the women are dragged off to an unknown fate.
 
          They bore down on three trying to block off their escape. An arrow whizzed by Branwen’s face, barely missing her. She swung down cutting one down as she rode past, trampling another under her horse’s hooves. Down behind came snarling and growling and goblin chatter. Warg riders, damn them to hell. ‘Go on, I will hold them off. Wait for me in Ærlens.” 
 
Wheeling around, Branwen drove her spurs into her horse’s sides spurring it into a charge. Two goblins rode the warg barreling towards her. Slashing one goblin across the chest it tumbled backwards and hit the ground. The other leapt tackling her off from her saddle. She hit the ground hard and went out sprawling. Dazed, she tried to stand but a weight crashed down her back, keeping her pinned. “No Escape.” She turned to look to see the wagon rumbling down the road then the thum of a bowstring, the driver tumbled from the wagon, a black arrow sticking out of his back. The wagon slowed and goblins descended upon it. The merchant jumped down starting to run. A goblin on a warg cut him down cutting a great bloody gash across his back.
 
“Silly humie no escape,” the goblin crooned in her ear. The others closed in around her. Fear gnawed at her insides, what cruel fate awaited her? Thick rope bound her hands together behind her back. Her captor stood before her, smiling a sickly cruel grin full of pointed teeth. He was a short, squat creature with mottled dark green skin with a tuft of greasy black hair atop his head. Amber eyes gazed down at her full with malice and lust. He dressed in leather rags with a jagged sword at his hip and a loincloth griddling his waist. The other goblins swarmed, dancing around her, pulling at her hair, feeling up her body, ripping strips of her armor, stripping her naked. Crossing her legs she curled up in a ball trying to preserve her dignity and not show her nakedness to these vermin. Her captor untied and dropped his loincloth. His vile manhood pointed at her with an angry red mushroom head. It stank of sweat and all the vile nastiness an unwashed goblin would have. He pressed his engorged member on her face, wiping it all over, smearing her with his foul slimy fluid. The damn bastard was trying to claim her as his. If he tries to put that thing in my mouth, I’ll bite it off. “Sucky, sucky, humie,” the goblin said waggling it in front of her face.
 
“Go to Hell,” she snarled through gritted teeth. The goblin only laughed, loud and shrill and looked at something and smirked. Clambering over her back he stopped at her butt. A sudden realization dawned over her. Claws tore through the seat of her pants exposing her naked ass and her quivering quim to the cold morning air and she felt it, his cock, brushing up against her backside, pushing apart her lower lips. “Damn you, don’t you dare-” interrupting her the goblin sank his cock into her pussy. She gasped and a shudder reverberated through her body. Tears bleared her eyes and her face flushed red. This cannot be happening not in front of all these, these things. The other goblins laughed and crooned, pointing, jeering at her.
 
“Humie cunny wet ‘n’ warm,” the goblin crowed. Grabbing hold of her hips the goblin bucked his hips fucking her good and hard. Each thrust sent shivers shooting down her spine. Branwen clenched her fists trying to ignore the tingling starting up in her loins. The wet claps of skin on skin filled the air.
          
Another slimy goblin approached her, this one skiiny and sickly, and pressed his erect member to her lips. She turned her face aside, the goblin pinched her nose closed and waited. She held her breath, feeling her chest tighten and her lungs felt ready to burst. She would be defiant and die before she gave these filthy worms the pleasure of seeing her break but then her body betrayed her and she gasped and the goblin shoved his disgusting wart covered cock down her throat, forcing her to take the full length. Grabbing her ponytail, clawed fingers curled through her hair and forced her down, pressing her nose into his coarse stinking pubic hair. His ball-sack swatted her chin with every thrust. The other goblins stood around her, now naked, all stroking their cocks, their eyes wandering all over the curves of her body. The aroma of sweat, filth and sex was overpowering, flooding her nostrils. It was intoxicating, making it difficult to think about something other than all those hard cocks. She felt her body heating up. Branwen closed her eyes and tried to focus on a something, some memory. She remembered the din of a battle raging, the clash of steel on steel and the cry of the defeated and the exuberance of victory. She remembered forging her sword, the heat of the forge wafting into her face and the beads of sweat dripping down her forehead and hammering the molten steel sending up cascades of red-yellow sparks and- a hard smack across her ass tore her out of her reverie wrenching her back into this depraved reality. The goblin laughed watching the globes of her ass jiggle and sway.
 
Sex, sex, sex, was that permeated in her head. The feelings stirring inside her intensified swelling up into a raging typhoon rising higher and higher but no dam broke leaving her frustrated. The aching feeling throbbed between her legs, she needed the relief. The goblin fucking her, stabbing her member into her pussy stoked the flames raging deep in her. She was so damn close and she could feel that her two rapists were too. They quivered inside her bucking frantically and then the one fucking her mouth came first. He seized up and warm globs of bitter cum filled her mouth forcing her to swallow the foul seed. The scent was dizzying. She felt the goblin, in her pussy, stiffen and come flooding her cunt with hot jism. She tried to fight it but the dam broke and an orgasm tore through her mind like a tidal wave. White lights flashed across her vision, clenching her eyes convulsions rocked her body. One by one the goblins surrounding her came and ropes of yellowish cum splattered over her alabaster skin. 
 
She lay panting on the ground, thoughts came and melted off like snow in summer. Rough hands borne her off, she moved in a haze, unsure if she walked or was carried. The goblin pack weaved through trees as if they followed an invisible road known only to them. She tried to make note of any recognizable landmarks but the tree all looked the same and everything seemed to blur together. Her captor hovered around her keeping a possessive hand on her flank. She noticed a one-eyed goblin had claimed her sword and helm.
 
Finally the trees parted and they entered a clearing and there stood a goblin village. A wooden palisade of hewn logs surrounded the village and look-outs stood guard from atop watchtowers. Their party stopped at the gates, one of the goblins gave a sign and the gates swung open and Branwen entered the village proper. She was surprised at what she saw, she had expected to be brought to some dank cave or that they would live in mud shacks but the goblins here lived in wooden hovels, blacksmiths worked hammering out pieces of armor from crude iron, others made tools and weapons.
 
Looking around, she saw no goblin women, only men. She felt a sinking feeling in her gut. Maybe then the rumors that goblins were an all male race that survived by kidnapping and impregnating women. Thinking of the dried semen caking her inner thighs made her blood run cold. She thought of her horse and the bundle of herbs that could prevent impregnation, maybe if she could get free she would be able to escape the fate of becoming a broodmare to these filthy creatures.
 
The goblin party broke off, the ones carrying the spoils, the armor and weapons stripped from the dead and her gear, continued up to a great lodge. She was led to another lodge, guarded by three or four goblins. The door was bolted from the outside by a large slab of wood that was thicker than her arm. They led her inside where a group of twenty or more women looked up her, fear in their eyes, sat in piles of hay. Some were visibly pregnant with large swollen bellies and others nursed small green babies at their breast. The whole room reeked of sex. The door slammed shut behind her leaving her cold, naked and afraid.
 
A plush dusky woman with lilac colored eyes and her hair was a tangle of ebony curls, she had wide hips and full, pillowy breasts and she was noticeably pregnant, came over. “Are you all right?” she asked in a soft voice, touching Branwen’s shoulder. “My name is Faana.” 
 
“Yes,” Branwen answered. She noticed some of the others glaring at her. 
 
“Do not worry about them, they are just afraid.”
 
“Afraid, afraid of what? What else could these monsters do to us?”
 
Faana smiled wistfully. “They see you as a threat to their hopes of becoming a bed warmer for one of the more important goblins. There they will not have to worry of being discarded and sent to the pit.”
 
“The pit, what is that?” Branwen asked and as if on cue, a shrill scream pierced the air.
 
“The Pit is where the true monsters seek their pleasures. Women sent there often do not last more than a night. My word of advice to you would be to refuse no offer, those who refuse to serve are sent to the Pit. With a little luck you might charm one of the tribe officers.”
 
“Why would I want to do that?”
 
“Because you gain a coveted position in the household where you only service one as opposed to many.” Faana placed a soft hand on Branwen’s breast. “With a body as beautiful as yours, you would be worthy of a chieftain.” The hand dropped down her stomach, down to her sex, eliciting soft moans. Faana got real close, hot breath wafted against Branwen’s skin and she kissed her neck.
 
Reluctantly, Branwen broke away. “I am looking to escape from here, can you help me?”
 
Fear danced in the woman’s eyes and backed away. “No,” She said quietly. “I have seen many try but none succeed and those who try… horrible things.” Her whole body shuddered. She started to say something else when the door swung open and lust hungry goblins poured into the room and grabbed women and taking where they were, fucking on the hay in front of the others. The goblins grunted and wheezed and the women squealed and mewled as they writhed on the goblin cocks.
 
          “What is this?”
 
          “Warriors returning from a raid, they can lay claim to any fertile in hopes of impregnating her with the warrior gene. My advice would be to refuse no one and give up all hope of escaping.” 
 
          A goblin grabbed Branwen by the arm pushing her to the ground. Faana looked on with sad eyes before another goblin took her. Coarse hands pulled her legs apart Branwen did not fight, letting it happen. A goblin pushed his way through her legs, his cock slid up her stomach, a dagger radiating heat, smearing her skin with his foul seed. A warm mouth suckled at her breasts as if sucking hard enough would bring forth a wellspring of mother’s milk. Soft gasps escaped from her lips, she tried to fight this feeling in her body, the heat burning hot in her nethers and growing wetness flowing between her thighs. Her own body betrayed her. She cried out when he buried his bone, spearing her on his cock. A shudder tore through her body as the goblin started fucking her. Colds kissed her neck, then her chin, and then her face and then her lips. A long warm tongue snaked its way invading her mouth as the goblin pawed at her tits, pinching and pulling at her nipples. She could not fight the feeling any longer. She whimpered and cried as her orgasm hit gradually, swelling up in a great tidal wave that crashed down on her. She shuddered and clenched up. He lay quivering against her, his head nestled between her breasts and he came in spurts shooting up into her inner walls. Warmth spread out through her crotch. The goblin slid out of her with a wet plop letting the warm cum to trickle down the insides of her thighs mixing in with her own wetness. She laid back dazed. The goblin held his member to her lips, dripping globs of cum on her breasts and neck. The thing smelled of her own juices and the vile seed. She took it, cleaning it in her mouth. He pumped out a few more ropes plastering her face with warm jism and laughed and walked off to the door. She was dazed, but she heard the three knocks he rapped on the door, the door opened and he walked out. 
 
She watched the other goblins left the women cum-stained and knocked on the door the exact same way. The thoughts had begun to stick in her mind and the gears began to turn and she came up with a plan to escape. 
 
Two other women helped Faana to her feet. Her face was flush and her hands cupped the swell of her stomach. “How often does that happen?” Branwen asked turning to spit, she still tasted the goblin in her mouth.
 
“Once a day now, the goblins led raids almost daily now. We don’t see much of the outside world only a sliver when the door opens but the walls are thin, you can hear the cry of the wounded and the dying. They need numbers to swell their ranks and replace fallen warriors.” 
 
“How do they repopulate so fast?”
 
“Goblin young mature into adults within the span of two years. The raids go in this cycle of intensity and then they back off and retreat back south and swarm up again in another two years. There is something the goblins do that induces a woman into estrus.” Panic rose into Branwen’ s blood and she thought again of the cum oozing from her vagina. Faana put a motherly hand on Branwen’s arm. “It is okay, but you need to understand that there is no escape and no one is coming to rescue us, this is your life now and you must accept it or die.”  She spoke with the experience of years serving as a broodmare to these creatures. 
 
Nighttime fell. The guards brought in their meal of cold cruel and did their last inspection of the night. The goblins allowed no light leaving them in the dark with only a sliver of a moonbeam coming in through a slit in the roof to light the room.  Branwen lay pretending to sleep, listening to the guards do their rounds, ignoring their groping hands squeeze and fondle all over her body. The door slid open, the guards walked out and the door shut and the bolt locked. She laid there awhile listening to the silence and sat up. The door swung open and three goblins walked in and looked about, at all the women. They seemed to be looking for a specific woman and a feeling growing in her stomach told her that she was the woman they were looking for. Laying still, she tried to make herself as small as possible but still they found her, dragging her off by her ankles and flipped her on her back and they were all over her: groping, kissing, licking, squeezing and fondling her body. She spotted one still wearing a weapon at his hip, a short shabby dagger. If she could get it from him then maybe she would have a chance to escape, but to get it from him, she was going to have risk her sanity and give them what they wanted, there would be no other way.
 
Opening her legs the goblins all surged forward trying to push their way between her legs to claim her pussy first. They began to fight amongst themselves over who would get to have her first. The largest of the three, an olive green skinned goblin missing one ear, cowed the others and took his prize, claiming her pussy as his. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her back. Was she really going to let this happen? The goblin stepped in between her legs, clawed hands gripped her thighs pushing them further apart. His member pointed up at her, painfully erect, a droplet of fluid dangled from the tip of his penis. She quivered feeling it brush up against her and gasped feeling it poke and prod at her entrance. It slid up, sliding between her pussy lips, sending a jolt down her spine. The goblin smirked and laughed that shrill irritating laugh. Her face flushed, burning a cherry red. He thrust again, this time he hit his mark and sank it, burying his cock up to the hilt in her cunt. She choked down the urge to scream out. Rough hands roamed exploring the contours of her body, squeezing and pinching her breasts and caressing the well-toned plush globes of her ass. Pleasure twisted up the goblin’s face, his tongued lolled out and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He rutted her like a feral beast rekindling the feeling between her legs, stoking it to a strong blaze till she could no longer fight it and she openly moaned with the goblin. 
The air was hot and heavy and wet with the sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with the goblins groans and her moans filled the air she felt everyone’s eyes on her. The other two goblins stood not a foot from her head, panting like dogs in heat, their cocks standing painfully erect, oozing jism from their swollen angry red cockheads. Finally one could wait no longer and pressed his filthy smegma encrusted cock in her face, holding it to her mouth. The faster she could wear them out the sooner she could escape. Opening her mouth she took it, bobbing her head along his length. A clawed hand grabbed a handful of her crimson hair and forced her down making her take the entirety of his cock, pushing her nose into a bush of unkempt coarse pubic hair. She groaned, moaning onto the goblin’s cock. The scent was intoxicating, overwhelming her mind.
 
The third goblin stood off to the side, he was the one with the weapon, he started to ogle some of the other women. If she lost him then she might not get out of here. Reaching over she slid her hand underneath his loincloth and grabbed a hold of his manhood. Rubbing and massaging the cock head she no longer thought only acted.
 
Trembling inside her the first goblin was about to burst flooding her pussy with warm hot gooey seed. Pulling out he rolled off of her, exhausted. The third now claimed her cunt, jamming his cock into her. They took turns fucking her through the night. She clamped down on the feeling between her legs, trying to ignore the blazing inferno burning in her loins. Al she had to was outlast them and then she would be free. Finally the second goblin finished in her mouth spraying her face with his cum and the third was fucking her now for the countless time that night. He fucked her with total abandoned. The feeling rose and rose swelling up to a great crescendo and she could feel that he was so damn close. He jerked and seized up and came. She tensed up as more and more seed filled her up but she did not come leaving her strangly unfulfilled. The goblin collapsed on top of her, exhausted soon fell asleep with his thing still inside of her. She took his dagger and easing it out from its sheath she cut his throat with one clean flick of her wrist. Killing the other two before they had a chance to make a sound she walked to the door.
 
“What have you done” a voice hissed from behind her. Branwen turned to see Faana standing hands on her hips.
 
“I told you I planned on escaping and this was my best chance.” She did not like the look in Faana’s eyes, something akin to a scared cornered animal liable to bite.
 
“I told you that one has ever escaped and when tries to escape all are punished. Is that what you want, for all these innocent women to be take the brunt of your actions?” Her eyes were pleading, she was scared, all those years, stuck in this hellhole with these creatures, stripped her of all hope.
 
“I must do this and I will not fail and I promise I wil return and rescue you,” Branwen tried to reassure her but her face hardened.
 
“No, no, you do not understand. Gua-“
 
“You bitch,” Branwen hit her hard across the face knocking her to the ground where she did not stir. The other women had gathered around casting baleful glances at her but none moved to interfere. Branwen knocked three times on the door and waited till it swung open and fell upon the guards like a demon possessed. Three goblins stood guard outside the lodge. She sank the dagger into the first before anyone knew what was happening. She snatched up the dead guard’s sword and swung cleaving through the second guard all before any had a chance to react. The third goblin charged, she sidestepped and separated his head from his shoulders and was off running up to the grand lodge to retrieve her sword and helm before his head touched the ground.
 
Several guards stood outside the great lodge, many looked bored leaning on their spears almost dozing off. Clinging to the shadows Branwen weaved her way through back alleys and crawled through a side window into the chieftain’s lodge and stumbled into a treasure trove of weapons, armor, valuables and mounds of glittering gold. After of what felt to be an eternity of shifting through the loot she found her sword and helm and took clothes and bits of armor that seemed to fit her figuring that the original owner no longer had any use of such things. A dagger longer than her forearm, made of fine steel, caught her eye and she tucked it away into her boot. On the far side stood doorway leading to a dimly lit room full of fine luxuries, fine furs and tapestries decorated the walls
 
The room was the bedroom of the goblin chieftain he lay by the dying embers of a fire, wrapped in heavy furs. Stalking up behind him the floorboards creaked under her boots. The chieftain’s ears pricked up and he looked up and saw her, his eyes widened and he leapt to his feet. The chieftain was a hobgoblin that stood nearly as tall as she with a large pot belly swaying and a wart covered cock hung flaccid between his thighs, a hefty wattle dangled from his neck. Baring his jagged pointed teeth he growled a low throaty snarl. 
 
Branwen made the first move, closing the distance between them and lunged thrusting her blade for his chest. He moved fast and nimble for a creature of his size, dancing around her and swiped at her with his claws. She ducked into a roll getting I real close, too close and slammed the hilt of her sword into his mighty gut. He staggered backwards, arms windmilling trying to regain footing. Now she had him. Rushing forward she thrust again her word but the hobgoblin righted himself quicker and caught her with a backhand, hitting her hard, sending her to the floor. She rolled hitting the ground hard and her sword slipped out from her hands and she laid dazed or a split moment. A heavy weight crushed her stomach as the hobgoblin straddled her chest. With a long sharp claw he cut a slit through her shirt from her stomach to her throat. Something warm and hard wedged itself between her pillowy mounds. Great globs of spittle dripped down from his gaping mouth splattering on her chest and soaking her tits. The fat bastard started pumping his hips, thrusting hiss cock back and forth in her tits. Snaking her hand along the floor to her boot she grabbed the dagger she had hidden in it. He must have noticed something for he grabbed her arm pinning it to the ground and kept pumping his cock with a damn smug grin spreading from ear to ear on his face. His cock stiffened and his thrusting became wild and erratic, he was close and then he could hold it no longer. His face twisted up in naked joy and ecstasy and plastered her face and breasts with ropes of warm yellowish jism. In his bliss his grip loosened, she snatched her dagger and planted it in his side, just under his ribs driving it up its hilts. Warm blood splashed over her legs. The hobgoblin wheezed grabbing at his side and toppled off of her. She leapt to her feet like a wildcat and took up her sword. He tried to stand but his strength flowed out his side and his knees buckled and slipped out from under him. Branwen raised her sword and swung down cleaving through the creature’s neck and his head rolled off his shoulders and hit the ground with a wet splat.
 
Taking a log from the fire she set furs and tapestries on fire and watched the fire spread. Taking the chieftain’s head she walked out to the cold night to where the goblin horde stood gathered. They gazed up at her with naked fear, she must have looked like some death goddess emerging out from flames, bathed in blood. The fire was a raging inferno lighting up the night sky. Throwing the head, it rolled down the hill and all the goblins scattered like pathetic rats scurrying off to the four corners. The fire was spreading out to the other buildings and soon not before long the whole camp would burn to the ground and a good riddance. These creatures were a scourge to the lands of Men and should be scoured clean.
 
The goblin camp had turned into bedlam as the fire raged. Branwen cut down swathes of goblins making her way back to the lodge where the women were kept. There they were being led out, bound in rope by a pack. Branwen dispatched the goblins easily enough and she freed the women of their binds. They stared by her like frightened sheep.
 
“Let’s go,” she said.
 
“What of the goblins?” one asked.
 
“Gone,” she answered and one by one, the women followed her back through the forest. Branwen found the way following old goblin tracks back to the forest road and to the closest city, there many of the women went into the care of the city temple to be look after till their pregnancies came to term and homes could be found. And so Branwen returned to life on the road, earning her coin as a mercenary.
 