Goblin Worms 2 (Patreon)

I could have started fucking my submissive lawyer right away, but I knew her pretty well by this point. She’d enjoy it, sure, but we’d done this song and dance half a dozen times. It was time to change things up, keep her on her toes. Instead, I gave her a grin and a new order, “Roll over. On your hands and knees.”

Carol blinked at me, almost incomprehensibly, for a moment before doing as she was told. Smirk still on my face, I walked around to her front, taking in her panting face and the way her eyes looked up at me with a reverent expression. I reached into one of the pockets of my cargo pants and pulled out a vial. I shook it, the cloudy, amber liquid within sloshing and frothing.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked her, knowing that she didn’t.

“No, Sir. I don’t,” she answered, lowering her head.

“This is a concoction that took me a month to brew. It contains refined and distilled essences from portobello mushrooms, wheat, honey, vinegar, and fruit flies. If you drink this within the next three days, and we have sex tonight, then you will get pregnant from it. Do you understand?” I asked seriously.

“Yes, Sir. There won’t be hiding that we have been intimate when the baby is born, will there?” she asked, a measure of clarity returning to her eyes, past the overwhelming lust.

I shook my head, “No, there will not. Even without considering your husband’s depression making your sex life at home nonexistent, the child or children will almost certainly take more after me than you. In another two months, I will have the concoction ready for him that will cure his depression. Regardless of whether or not you take this, I will give it to him. With that in mind,” I placed the vial on her desk. “The choice is yours, later. Now, beg.”

Immediately, she was back into slut mode, her mouth dropped open and her tongue stuck out. I kicked my boots off and my pants followed, my dick already hard. Walking up to her, I fed the green head of my cock into her mouth. As soon as my pre-slick dick touched her tongue, Carol gave a moan and stretched her mouth open even wider, accepting the inevitable invasion. Once the head was fully in her mouth, past her teeth and my underside resting on her tongue, I put my hands on the sides of her head and thrust my hips.

“Hglk!” Carol gagged as my length slammed against the back of her mouth, well over half my shaft still outside. I didn’t give her a chance to recover, simply tightening my grip on her head and forcing her down, savoring the way the entrance to her throat stretched, trying to resist, before my bulbous head popped into her esophagus.

My and my brother’s genitals are shaped differently from humans; from poking around on the internet, best as I can tell is they’re shaped like a mix of canine and crocodile. Or dumbbells. Point was, there was a knot where my dick came out of my groin, a big ball shaped head that was about the same size as the knot, and a narrower shaft. Bolg was too young to have experienced it before we’d been captured, but the vaginal passage in goblin women had regions for both the knot and the head to slide into place, but human women don’t have that. Fucking Carol was really weird the first few times, but by this point I’ve gotten used to it.

Pushing that thought aside, I returned my focus to the here and now. More specifically, on getting the rest of my cock into Carol’s mouth. Now that my head was in her throat, which squeezed down so tightly on me, the rest slid in much easier. Letting out a sigh, I savored the way her mouth and throat felt around me, delighting in the sensation of her wet tongue pressed against my knot as I forced it past her teeth. Sure, her teeth stung, but I’d felt a hell of a lot worse.

Her throat tightening around me as she gagged, but her stubborn refusal to pull back gave me a sense of power well beyond anything I could cook up in the lab with my alembics, beakers, and vials. Still, as her eyes started to roll up into her head and her face got a hint of blue, I pulled back, my literally bulbous head popping out of her throat with a sound I could almost hear.

I rested my dick against her face as Carol coughed, gagged, and wheezed, trying to get her lungs to stop burning by forcing air back into them. When she looked to have regained her breath, I grinned down at her and asked, “Ready for the main course?”

“If…if that’s what…” she paused as a few more coughs wracked her body, making her breasts jiggle inside her business suit. “If that’s what you desire, Master.”

My grin became practically feral as I spun her around and pulled her skirt up over her ass, taking in the sight of her gushing slit and the still active vibrator in her ass. Lining myself up, I took a firm grip of her hips and thrust into her.

[hr][/hr]

I made it back home shortly after midnight, Bolg still sleeping off the concoction I’d given him. I stopped by my lab, checking on my various projects going on. All were progressing as I’d been expecting, the temperature on the burners needing adjustment on a few of them, but more or less everything was as it should be.

That taken care of, I went to the kitchen and pulled a can of beer from the fridge. It was a local brew, something that was technically illegal, given how it was made without a license. But all things considered, no one wanted to kill one of the city’s more lucrative businesses, even if it was the Empire’s primary source of revenue. It’s not like going around beating the shit out of minorities made more than chump change, or was even done except by dumbass new recruits who wouldn’t know subtlety if it came in the form of a dragon who wanted to turn them into a bardic cocksleeve.

Pushing that disturbing thought aside (and raising the glass in toast to Yurik, the poor bastard), I pondered the potential situation I’d made for myself down the line with leaving that fertility brew with Carol. It was largely a test for her, but I honestly couldn’t say if she’d pass or fail by taking it. Intellectually I knew that if she did take it, the result would be more problems than I really wanted to deal with. With my developing a brew that would fix her husband’s depression, he’d find out and be emotionally devastated all over again.

The thing was… I didn’t get it. Not on an emotional level. Because despite what some would say about ‘Monster Capes’ I wasn’t human. I never had been. I didn’t form the same kinds of emotional bonds that humans did. Sure, I was close enough to humans that I could function in their society, but every so often I’d encounter something that would serve as a sharp reminder that, at the end of the day, Bolg was the only other member of my species in the world. It was times like this that I envied Bolg, this world was the only one he’d known, that deep seated loneliness never occurred to him. I liked Amy, we had fun experimenting together, which was why I was even making the cure for Mark in the first place. But… I wanted other goblins more.

The booze burned down my throat as I took a swig, contemplating the future debacle I’d made for myself. That contrast, knowing that I’d cause problems with Amy’s family mixed with the knowledge that my brother was the only other goblin, was probably why I left the decision up to Carol. Why I gave myself that layer of separation, to give myself a level of deniability.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair as I glanced at the clock. Remembering that I was doing some work at Brockton General, I set the now empty bottle in the recycling and made my way to bed. I wasn’t expected to arrive until ten, but I’d need at least an hour to finish my preparations before I left. Should be basic bitch stuff, it wasn’t like anything fancy had ever happened when I was voluntolding.

If I’d had even the slightest idea what would happen… well, I wouldn’t have done anything different, but I’d have been a lot snarkier about it. Because I’d been passing out my standard, all purpose cure alls for a little over an hour, when one of the docs came to get me.

“We have a major trauma coming in, a girl locked in with biohazardous waste for almost a full day before she was let out. ETA fifteen minutes, ED 309,” she said in a rush, and I grabbed my bags and rushed after her.

I wasn’t a doctor, not even really a healer. I knew enough to make things that could do what I wanted, but I didn’t have the underlying knowledge of how the body worked. Most of my stuff relied on more metaphysical elements that were much more widely known back home than here. For general purpose stuff I was pretty good, but the more delicate or intricate the problem was, the harder a time I had.

From what the doc had described, I’d be in trouble if I tried to do more than reduce the inevitable infections. All the same, my pride in my craft wouldn’t let me give anything less than my best effort. Sure enough, when the girl arrived on a gurney, I winced at seeing the condition she was in. No way was I going to be able to treat all of her issues, especially not when there was so little excess body mass for my concoctions to work with.

My main role in the ensuring trauma theater was limited to handing things to the docs when they asked and helping clean the various cuts, gouges, scrapes, and bug bites. I did my best, using the healing focused concoctions I had while we went, but in the end she had been in there for too long, she was fading fast and the doctors were giving looks that said they were preparing for her to pass. My eyes narrowed, my pride in my craft rising to the surface. I’d used nearly everything I’d brought with me to treat her, like hell she got to die after I’d spent that many resources on her.

“Will she hold on for another hour?” I asked, making the doctors and nurses turn to look at me. “I think I can cobble together something that’ll let her last long enough for Panacea to get here after Arcadia lets out, but she needs to last an hour for that to happen.”

The doctor in charge looked at me, before nodding and turning to one of the nurses, “Get Azog whatever he needs, we’ll keep her going until you get back.”

I gave a nod, turning to the nurse, “Take me to the kitchen, and send word ahead that I need a pot with two quarts of water, a pound of uncooked chicken, seventeen grams of oyster juice, and eight ounces of whole wheat flour.”

Word was sent ahead, and as soon as I arrived I hopped up on the stool that had been provided for me and got to work. Step one, get the water to a roiling boil. While that was happening, get a mean hammer and start turning the chicken into a paste. Add a quarter to the pot as bubbles start forming along the sides. Mix the flour with the oyster juice, stir. Slowly pour in as the water begins to boil, stir mixture counterclockwise four times. Let settle, add two thirds of the remaining chicken paste, stir clockwise six and a half times. Leave for fifteen minutes. Add remaining chicken, stir counterclockwise twice, clockwise three times. Grab measuring cup and knife, make incision along forearm, ignore pain and measure out half pint of blood. Add to potion, stir horizontal figure eight then vertical figure eight. Repeat six times. Remove from heat.

I let out a breath as I waited for the potion to cool enough that I could take it back up. The nurse had bandaged my arm while I worked, the sterile white stained through blueish green. That was one of the things that had freaked Amy out the first time we met, Bolg and I having copper-based blood, but she was still new to her powers at the time.

Forcing the memories back, I took in the concoction, testing the temperature with a thermometer, and promptly grabbing the pot by the handle and heading out of the kitchen. We were soon back in the patient’s room, and I set the pot off to the side as I slipped on some fresh gloves.

“I need an empty IV bag, and seven filled with saline fluids. She’s also going to be needing a very thorough sponge bath once it’s done,” I said, another nurse already out of the room to grab what I needed.

The head doc glanced at the almost neon turquoise potion in the pot before asking, “How bad will the biological contamination be once it’s finished?”

I resisted the urge to run a hand through my hair and let out an almost explosive breath, “She’s going to lose a fair amount of body mass and the ability to pass as an ordinary person ever again, but she’ll be alive. Her body’s going to partially cannibalize itself to force out anything it deems foreign, but it’ll need something else to keep it from collapsing in on itself afterwards. I really only had one option available to me in the time restraints.”

The doctor stared at me, but didn’t answer as the nurse arrived, carrying the requested IV bags. The potion was poured into one that was immediately hooked up to the patient, while the remaining seven were set to the side. As if in slow motion, the potion fed down the tube until it reached her arm. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the potion worked its magic, her veins turning a visible blue through her skin, before beads of sweat formed all over her skin.

Nearly a full minute after the first beads of sweat formed, they changed, instead of merely giving her skin a wet sheen, she started sweating a black, viscous goo that caught the light like oil. Her hair changed, losing the curls and darkening to the same black Bolg and I had. Her cuts and scrapes scarred over, healed but still present. Her skin gained a green tint, and I knew by the time her body finished processing the potion, she’d have lost a lot of her height as well, possibly as much as two feet.

I stayed in the room with her, having nothing else to do and needing to keep an eye on her incase she had a reaction to the potion, until Amy eventually arrived, took one look at the patient, and asked me, “What did you do?”

“I’d sunk five months worth of products into her, like hell I was going to let her be so inconsiderate as to die after I’d invested so much into her,” I shot back.

Amy rolled her eyes before walking over and pressing a finger against one of the few clean patches of skin. Her eyebrows furrowed, before she spoke up, “Well, I’m finding no signs of infections, disorders, or any kind of ailments. Looks like whatever you cooked up did a good job. Outside of turning her into a short, green skinned, copper blooded gremlin, that is.”

“You want her and you know it,” I teased, even as I felt a surge of relief.

That particular potion had been a gamble, because based on past experience any of my more drastic and dramatic mixtures had a knock on effect. Amy had never been able to heal, fix, or otherwise alter someone I’d treated for some time after they drank or received my concoctions. For something like this, it would probably be months if not years before Amy could even consider trying to turn her back into a human.

I did my best to ignore the part of me that hoped that Amy wasn’t able to change her back. For the first time since Bolg and I had arrived, we weren’t the only goblins. We weren’t alone.