Goblin Girl and Mage - Episode 2

Episode 1: https://www.patreon.com/posts/124841232

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The silence of the quiet goblin settlement was shattered by a drunken shriek mixed with a raspy laugh. Robert — now going by Robla — staggered under the arm of her new “friend” Grumla, a stout gobliness with a perpetually twisted face and a dumb grin, even when she wasn’t drunk on Marsek. Right now, Grumla was supporting the clearly wasted Robla and pointing somewhere with her long, crooked goblin fingers, still wearing that same ridiculous grin on her mug:

– Let’s go to Gnurksh! He always pours for free if you show your tits! – She laughed so hard that Robla sobered up for a second when the sound suddenly pierced her brain with its high-pitched frequency.

– T-tits?.. – she mumbled, blinking and barely staying on her feet. A wave of absurdity hit her all at once, and for a moment everything slowed down — the rain dripping into a puddle, the dim tavern light dancing on the wet stone, and Grumla dragging her somewhere with all her goblin determination.

Robla swayed; her breasts, as always, reacted disgustingly late — bouncing in her shirt that clung to her body. She’d gotten used to the weight by now, but after three mugs of the local “Mushroom Marsek,” any pair of tits turned into two overly sensitive living sacks.

– I… I’m not showing anything, got it?! – she exhaled with effort, grabbing the wall. – I’m actually… actually… a virgin! – the last word burst out unexpectedly even for Robla herself, and she immediately covered her mouth with her hand.

– No waaay?! – Grumla stopped, her mouth dropping open in surprise as she slapped Robla’s ass so hard she nearly fell over. – You’ve been waddling around with that meat on your chest for half a year, and not a single one?! What the hell, Robla, you some kind of saint?!

– I’m not… a saint, I’m a man! I’m a knight! – Robla muttered, once again feeling how the alcohol sharpened every damn detail of her cursed body.

– A kni… what?! – Grumla couldn’t hold back her laughter, clutching her stomach as she snorted, until her shoulder slammed into the nearest house’s frame. – You said “knight”?! Oh-ha-ha! You, Robla, with tits down to your knees and that juicy ass, and… a knight?! Ha-ha-ha! Damn, you’re a riot!

Robla, gasping, pressed her forehead to the cold wall, feeling the wind pierce through the damp fabric clinging to her breasts. Her head spun, and her temples throbbed like someone was drumming inside out of rage and despair. Her body was drunk, and she realized she’d just spilled the truth she’d been hiding from everyone here, but what did it matter if no one would believe it anyway.

– I needed that damn “GRABARKA” herb, and it’s, hiiiic, not here! – she growled and immediately slammed her back against the wall, slowly sliding down. – And they won’t, hic… won’t let me out past the walls.

– Then why the hell were you stalling?! – Grumla slapped her on the shoulder so hard she nearly toppled sideways. – All your problems would’ve been solved if you’d just married Gnurksh already!

– W-what?! – Robla jerked up. – Never! I’m just waiting for the right moment — once I get what I need, I’m outta here! Back to my body! My sword! My normal… flat-ass life!

– Pff... Sounds like the drunken rambling of a dumb little goblin bimbo who’s already had too much – Grumla snorted and took a loud gulp from her clay mug, spilling some onto the ground. – You, Robla, look... if you really are a “knight” – then I’m the archmagess of Upper Urumtar! Heh-heh-heh!

Robla let out a quiet sob. Her lips were trembling, her stomach ached from the knot twisted tight with booze and emotions. She was on the edge again — teetering between a meltdown and another wave of vomit.

– I... I really was, – she whimpered, hugging her shoulders, pressing her back into the damp stone. – Robert. I... I fought… a dragon at the northern pass… I was in the Order... I had a sword… and I didn’t have these… these… – she stared at her breasts, sagging lifelessly under her wet, thin shirt. – THESE THREE-KILO BLOODY BAGS!

– Oh, enough already – Grumla shook her head and let out a muffled burp. – Listen, Robla, seriously… just go sleep it off. You’ve got that day tomorrow! The most… uhh… final one. That’s it! The first bachelor you see — you’re marrying him. That’s the law, you know that. You’ve been hanging around here for six months and not a single groom, what the hell?

Robla froze. Her pupils twitched.

– Tomorrow?.. – barely audible.

– Yep – Grumla nodded, drawing some weird circle in the air with her finger. – You showed up in the village and said: “I’m a bride.” Been strutting around for half a year with those giant tits, an ass like my house, ears like the best dragon-flycatcher, and turning your green nose up at everyone! Aren’t you fancy!

Robla swallowed. She’d heard something about six months before, but she never realized it meant a forced marriage — let alone that it had already been that long. All this time she’d been fending off the annoying creeps, especially that disgusting, always-stinking fatass Gnurksh. And all this time she was trying to sneak out beyond the village limits to get to that damn cave with the "Grabarka" and snatch the fucking herb so she could get back to the mage. God, if only she had known she could’ve just gone straight there and picked the herb herself. If only she hadn’t followed that dumbass plan of the mage’s, pretending to be a “bride” just to get into the village. If only she could turn back time, she’d have burned that cursed potion vial to hell — and tossed the mage in with it. But now… now her breasts ached sharply, her thighs rubbed uncomfortably with every move, and one single thought throbbed in her head:

‘Tomorrow morning I’m getting married. To whoever. The FIRST... guy I see. SERIOUSLY?!’

– Oh, no-no-no! – Robla groaned, dropping her head onto her knees, nearly toppling over from the alcohol sloshing inside her skull. – I... I can’t… this can’t be real…

– Oh, my dear, I envy you so much. My first little goblinkins were such adorable little lumps! – Grumla went on dreamily, leaning back against a damp fence, like she was genuinely enjoying the memory. – One had a lump on his forehead, the other had three fingers. Ah, good times! And after I popped out the second one – bam, I was free! Do what you want — stay, leave. I even went to the fair in Mook-Tir, can you imagine?

– Oh, I can imagine... – Robla groaned like someone had just kicked her in the liver. She lifted her head; her hair stuck to her cheeks, her mouth dry. – I can imagine what a load of shit all this is! Why the fuck won’t they let me leave?! Why didn’t anyone tell me the TRUTH from the start?!

– Damn, you’re one drunk bitch! No one owes you shit just because you’ve got... – she jabbed a finger at Robla’s tits, making them jiggle like jelly – …these things! Just like every other regular bitch out there.

Robla flinched, but even that small movement made her breasts shift uncomfortably inside the soaked shirt, like living flesh crammed into a tight cage.

– What the fuck are you saying… – she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. – I’m not... not a woman. I... I’m just...

– Just, just, just. Your new little fairytale is funny, but I’m sick of hearing it – Grumla snorted, stood up from the ground and yanked Robla’s arm. – Let’s go to Gnurksh! Better the bastard you know than waking up under the fat gut of some swamp fuck like Jarmlesh!

– Get off me! – Robla shrieked, weakly pushing her away, but there was no strength left — not in her hands, not in her voice. Only her tits jerked again, painfully hitting the edges of the damp shirt. – I’m not going! I... I’ll think of something else...

– You won’t think of shit, dumbass! – Grumla pulled her forward, stretching out her arm and pointing ahead – Just promise me that once you become his wife, you won’t forget me and you’ll tell your husband to pour me a double every time! ‘Cause I basically raised you, like my own! And I set you two up!

Grumla leaned in and whispered something right into her ear — something way too dirty — and Robla’s mind felt like it dropped into a pit of cold sludge.

– …and he’ll fuck you SO hard, you’ll grow a damn lump on your forehead! – Grumla whispered, then burst out laughing and slapped her on the back.

Robla yelped, staggered back, lost her balance and tripped over her own feet — short, thick, and still wobbling awkwardly with every step — and fell flat on her back into a muddy puddle. Water rushed under her shirt, her breasts pressed hard against her ribs like two soaked, weighted sacks, and she groaned — not from pain, but from sheer humiliation.

– I… I can’t take this anymore… – she wheezed, lying in the puddle, hair soaked and stuck to her face, breasts rising with every shaky breath.

– Oh, sweetheart – Grumla said with a soft smirk, reaching out a hand. – You’re a true gobliness. Only goblin girls can cry in the dirt and still know they’ll be wives by morning.

Robla stared silently into the gray night sky, as if it could give her answers — or at least hope. But there was nothing. Just stars, rain, and mud under her ass. As real and solid as the fact that there was no escaping — not from marriage, not even from popping out two kids just to be allowed past the village limits, escorted by her fucking husband.