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2061 WORDS
Warning: this is a work of queer erotic literature. It contains dark themes including but not limited to fantastic monsters, rape, kidnapping, breeding, and some surreal themes. It does not contain any bestiality, piss or scat play, or sexualization of minors. Please read responsibly.
“Three… two… one… spin!” with a grunt, Joanna spun the wheel mounted on the cave wall. Actually, to call it a wheel was generous, given that it was made of pig bones— bones that don’t have a tendency to assume a perfectly round shape. Regardless, she and her two sisters watched the wheel slowly spin to a stop until it landed on the colour red.
“Double bone!” yelled Keira. “Everyone rolls four dice. Go!”
Joanna, Keira, and Mathilda each ran across the dirt floor of the long-deserted council meeting room. Mathilda knew in her heart that she could probably come up with an incantation to automate this, but maybe doing it the old fashioned way was more fun. They grabbed their crudely made dice, and ran back to the wheel to roll them on the floor.
“I rolled a twenty nine,” proclaimed Joanna happily.
“You rolled four dice. That’s mathematically impossible,” said Mathilda.
“What! You lying bitch!” Joanna raised a fist to clobber her smartass sister. An irrational move, but to be fair to Joanna, it was a pretty smartass thing to say.
Keira stepped in to intervene. “Hold on, Joanna, she’s right,” she said. She pointed to one of Joanna’s dice. “This one is a three, right?”
“Oh. I thought it was twelve.”
“How the fuck did you mistake three dots for twelve?” asked Mathilda smugly.
Joanna growled. “Shut up and help me count this out.”
Goblins loved games. Everyone knew this. And in the Goblin Clan of Klazo, no game was more beloved than Crossbones: the action-packed game of chance.
If only there was any surviving record of how exactly you’re supposed to play the game, Mathilda thought to herself. Their sister Lydia used to be their reference for this sort of thing, until last week when she was eaten by a carnivorous plant. What a selfish cow.
“Okay, okay,” said Mathilda, “Joanna rolled a nineteen. I rolled a thirteen. Keira rolled a nine.”
Keira swore viciously. It surprised Mathilda; for an illiterate goblin, she had an impressive vocabulary of expletives.
“Alright, alright, relax,” said Joanna. “Next stage. I got above fifteen, so is it the breath-holding contest or the card-drawing round?”
“Wait,” said Keira. “Let me count the dice again. Just to be sure.”
“Oh come on, Keira, you lost fair and square. Don’t be a little bitch about it.”
The tension in the room was rising quite quickly. This was their third attempt this week to properly play the game, and everyone was losing their patience. And with good cause. The stakes were quite high.
“Alright,” said Mathilda, trying to take control of the situation. “The high dice rolls mean we go to the card deck. Everyone draws three cards and reveals their highest and lowest.”
“Are you sure?” asked Keira.
“Mostly,” said Mathilda. She was about seventy five percent sure, to be exact.
In Mathilda’s defence, it’s not her fault that she didn’t know the rules to Crossbones. It’s difficult to remember your clan’s complex traditions and cultures when you and your sisters are literally the last three Klazo Goblins in existence. She sighed as they sat down by the deck of cards. If only more of her ancestors knew how to write.
“I drew a knight,” said Keira.
“Don’t reveal yet,” said Mathilda.
“Wait, two cards or three?” asked Joanna.
“I just drew two. Wait, you’re right; it’s supposed to be three,” said Keira.
“Okay, good, because I just got a dunce,” said Joanna.
“Don’t reveal yet,” repeated Mathilda.
Joanna growled. “Okay, I’ve got three.”
“Great,” said Mathilda. “One, two, three, reveal.”
The three of them placed down all of their cards. The girls scanned each other’s hands.
“I have a knight and two dukes,” said Keira. “I’m safe.”
“So am I,” laughed Mathilda. “Joanna has two dunces.”
Joanna gasped. “Wait… that’s not…”
“Sorry, Joanna,” said Mathilda. “You lose a life—”
“Joanna has a scholar!” said Keira. “It cancels out a dunce. You lose, Mathilda. Not Joanna.”
Mathilda’s heart skipped a beat. They were right. For once, her sisters were right.
Joanna cheered. “You lose a life, bitch! Not me!”
“Was that your last life?” asked Keira, astonished.
Mathilda gulped. She said nothing.
Joanna cackled. “Ha! Who’s smart now, huh? Come on, let’s go. You’re going to The Nest!”
Keira and Joanna seized their sister by each arm, hauling her to her feet. They began to march her out of the council room and deeper into the lair. The Nest was only a short walk away.
"Better start stripping, sis," said Joanna, playfully smacking Mathilda's ass. “You don’t want those tentacles strangling you on your own clothes.” Keira giggled.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Mathilda, beginning to unwrap her armbands. It's not like goblins wore much in the way of clothing anyways.
Mathilda tossed her clothes onto the ground as she walked: her tunic, her skirt, her footwraps, until she was walking to her doom completely naked. She was the youngest of the three sisters, and the most petite in build. She wasn’t particularly muscular like Joanna, nor did she have a beautiful hourglass figure like Keira. She sniffled. How could her sisters be so heartless? Obviously, one of the three was going to have to go to The Nest. But couldn’t they be a bit gentler about it?
The three goblins exited one of the winding tunnels of the vast Klazo lair. They found themselves on a platform overlooking a gaping pit. The pit was enormous, and it was moving. About thirty feet down, thousands of pale green tentacles writhed around, soaking in a thick blue slimy liquid. It was nasty, terrifying, and it smelled vaguely of bananas.
Tears welled up in Mathilda’s eyes. She would never get to see her library or her wand or her alchemy kit ever again. She knew that The Nest would kill her. Not immediately, of course. It would fuck her relentlessly, over and over again, feeding her slime and impregnating her. Each of her offspring would either be ejected back out into the lair, or, if it were a particularly favourable female, be rapidly aged up and kept to breed alongside her mother.
Mathilda would birth new goblin after new goblin, until she suffocated, got digested, or just died from stress. She would maybe last six months to a year. Two at the most.
“Anything you want to say before you go?” asked Joanna with a grin. Her tall, muscular build towered over Mathilda, her rusty plated armour distinguishing her from her naked, defeated sister.
“I thought we were friends,” said the doomed sister. “I thought we trusted each other.”
“Of course we are,” said Keira. “But a deal is a deal. We can’t reproduce with just three girls. Whoever lost the game was going into The Nest.”
Mathilda turned around, peering back down at the writhing tentacles. Her small, perky breasts were cold in the open air. She wondered how deep down it was from the surface to the bottom of the biomass. At least she would get to be a mother.
“If you see her, say hi to Aunt Tara,” said Joanna with one last chuckle. Tara was one of the last Klazos to ever voluntarily enter The Nest. That was years ago. She was almost certainly dead. “Now quit stalling. Jump.”
“I’m not stalling,” said Mathilda, tiptoeing towards the edge. “I’m just saying I don’t think this is right.”
“It’s what we agreed,” said Keira. “You lost fair and square. We’re sorry.”
Staring her imminent bad end in the face, something clicked in Mathilda’s mind. “Hang on…” she turned around.
“What?” demanded an impatient Joanna.
“I don’t think we played the game right,” said Mathilda. “You spun the wheel and landed on a double bone. That doesn’t mean we roll four dice. It means we each roll one die at a time, twice.”
“Wait… seriously?” asked Keira.
Mathilda nodded. “That whole last round of play was messed up. We made a mistake in the rules. I can’t believe I forgot.”
Joanna sneered. She suddenly grabbed Mathilda, lifting her sister up by her underarms. “I don’t care,” she said. “You’re going in there. Not me, not Keira. You.”
Mathilda flailed her legs as Joanna held her out over the pit. She gasped as she peered down at the tentacles writhing tentacles below. “If you drop me,” said Mathilda, “you’re not playing the game, you’re murdering your sister. This isn’t the game we agreed to.”
Joanna’s expression changed. She contemplated it for a moment, before turning to Keira, as if expecting a mediating opinion.
Keira sighed. “She… she does have a point,” she said finally with a shrug.
Joanna roared with anger. She tossed Mathilda— not into the pit, but back into the tunnel where she landed on the dirt floor with a loud thud. “Gods damn it!” she yelled. “Damn this stupid game and its stupid rules!”
Mathilda dusted herself off, climbing to her feet. “I don’t make the rules,” she said with a wheeze. She tried to act like Joanna hadn’t just completely winded her. “We’ll… we’ll just have to play again.”
“Forget it,” said Joanna. “It’s always the same. Someone gets close to losing, we argue about the rules, and we agree to try again.”
Keira awkwardly handed Mathilda her panties. “You’re right,” said Keira. “This isn’t working. We’re running out of time.”
A year ago, there were thirty goblins in the Clan of Klazo. A month ago, only one third of that number remained. Now, there were three. And by sheer rotten luck, not a single male had survived.
“The Nest is Klazo’s last hope,” continued Keira. “And yeah, it sucks that one of us has to go in, but we literally have no other choice.”
Joanna stormed back down the tunnel. “Whatever.”
“Where are you going?” called Keira. “Fuck. Come on, Mathilda.”
Mathilda smiled as she followed along, picking up and putting on her clothes as she went. Obviously, a double bone meant you roll four dice. That’s why it was called double bone. But she wasn’t about to dive into that pit because of random chance. She was far too smart for that. If someone was going into The Nest, it was going to be one of her dumb-as-rocks sisters, not her.
After Mathilda hastily dressed herself, she and Keira found Joanna in the canteen. The massive dining table that used to seat dozens of proud Klazo warriors was empty. Joanna peered into the pantry. It was still mostly full from their last scavenging expedition, but Joanna seemed displeased.
“Are we out of meat?” demanded Joanna. “There’s nothing but mushrooms in here.”
“Yes,” said Keira. “Just eat the mushrooms.”
“I hate mushrooms.” Joanna slammed the door shut. “How come all you got was fucking mushrooms?”
“Well, you might recall, one of us had a big sack full of nuts and berries, but she got eaten by a plant,” said Keira. “So don’t blame us. Blame Lydia.”
“Selfish cow,” said Joanna.
“Yeah. I know,” said Keira.
Joanna stormed back and forth across the canteen. She looked about ready to explode with anger. “I wanna go hunting,” she said. “Out on the highway. Let’s eat some settlers or something.”
“We have plenty of food,” said Mathilda. “And, as Keira literally just said, last time we went out scavenging, we lost twenty-five percent of the Clan of Klazo. Guys, can we please just focus on the issue at hand here?”
“The issue at hand is that I’m hungry,” said Joanna. “And I’m not eating mushrooms. Grab your stuff. We’re going.”
“Wait!” said Mathilda. Joanna was already out the door. “Keira! Don’t you see that we have more important things to do?”
“I know,” said Keira, “but you know how Joanna gets when she’s hungry. Come on. We’ll go get some nice easy kills, have a hearty dinner, and then afterwards we can talk about The Nest and everything. Let’s just go. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Mathilda fumed as Keira left her alone in the canteen. “Bring your little toys with you,” called Keira. “I’ll meet you at the entrance.”
“They’re not toys!” screamed Mathilda. “They’re arcane implements from—” she stopped herself. Keira didn’t care. No one cared.
With a deep sigh, Mathilda calmed herself down. She left the canteen and headed to her lab. Maybe she should have jumped into The Nest after all.
Hello! Thank you very much for reading. This is a teaser for a new long-form work of fiction called The Last Goblins. It's a story about the final three goblin sisters who, by sheer rotten luck, happen to be the last members of their clan, and the only goblins for miles around. They have the means to jumpstart the clan at their fingertips; the only catch is that it requires one of them to sacrifice themselves for several years of sexual, tentacle-based torture, followed by certain death. And, surprise surprise, they can't agree on who has to be the one to do it. Just as they resign themselves to the end of their bloodline, hope arises for the girls. Something that can both help them make a decision and inject some much-needed genetics into their clan— but not exactly what they expected.
Expect The Last Goblins in 2023!
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