Hot Goblin Girls 4

By Paul Lucas

After their last brush with death, the quartet of sexy goblin women and their human companion retreated into the mountains with their new pet, content to live apart from civilization for months. But on a supply run to the nearby merchant city of Linlea, Hemlock and Black Ember meet a strange female goblin named Skaver being sold as a sex slave. Tension and danger arise when the two female warriors infiltrate a high-priced bordello to rescue her, with more at stake between them than just their lives.

Can Hemlock and Black Ember escape the unexpected perils they encounter?

BOOK FOUR of the HOT GOBLIN GIRLS series!

Contains sexy shenanigans, explicit romantic naughtiness, and some violence. ADULT READERS ONLY!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Lucas
• Release date: Nov 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370420186

Paul Lucas

I grew up on the shores of Lake Erie, just a few snow drifts away from Buffalo, NY. I am a life long science fiction and fantasy fan, and avidly keep up on developments in the fields of science, technology, and ancient cultures.Currently I am a freelance writer and artist, with fifteen years of experience in the field. In 1998 I had a tabletop RPG published, and in 2005 my first novel CREATURA came out. My shorter works have seen the light of day in publications such as Strange Horizons, Afterburn, Tales of the Talisman, Fables, and others. Currently I do a lot of personal commissions and ghost writing work.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Hemlock threw off her vest and tattered undershirt, exposing her heavy green bosom to the cool forest air. She pressed her body right up to the naked Black Ember, who leaned back against a wagon wheel nearly as tall as she was. Two pairs of dark nipples rubbed together while long, agile tongues wrestled passionately.

Like most goblins, Hemlock was diminutive, barely four feet tall, with rich green skin, large pointed ears, and a prominent nose. She sported midnight-dark hair tied up in a broad functional bun. Her curvy figure edged toward plump, not unusual for women her age no matter the race. Broad hips, a thick rear, and a not-so-narrow waist complimented bouncy, apple-sized breasts. Even so, a foundation of solid muscle still peeked out from under her softer surface layer from her lifetime of mercenary work.

Black Ember shimmied Hemlock's loincloth down her partner's thighs. The goblin shaman was two years younger than Hemlock's thirty-five years of age. She was an inch taller, with rich mahogany hair cut in a straight line above her shoulders. She possessed a thin, lithe build, with apricot-sized breasts topping a modestly-curved figure. Gold-flecked tattoos of archaic mystical symbols swirled over various parts of her body.

After their light-hearted teasing on the driver's bench had escalating to full-blown foreplay, the goblins had pulled their wagon into a small clearing beside the barely-visible track through the heavily-forested hills. Their horse munched indifferently at the sparse grass. The back of the cart was piled high with cured hides and furs their group had culled from months of hunting. They were still adjusting to life in their group's makeshift burrow in the highlands two days' travel away.

Black Ember flung the loincloth onto their pile of discarded clothes, eagerly surrendering to the older female's very aggressive necking. Callused fingertips roamed over Back Ember's hips and flanks, then shifted back to knead over soft jade buns. The shaman's throat rumbled pleasantly as she rolled her rear back into her lover's grip.

The goblin warrior bent down to suck at the magic user's nipples, gently teasing them one at a time with sharp teeth. Black Ember mewled softly, flexing her hands through Hemlock's dark locks.

Hemlock suddenly pushed the smaller goblin harder against the wagon wheel, growling softly and nipping at the meat of the other woman's shoulder. Black Ember snarled back, a wolf challenging an alpha, as she softly scraped her small finger claws down her lover's solid back. Hemlock tightened her bite and growled even louder, stopping just short of breaking skin. Black Ember's defiance melted away as she abruptly mewled in heated submission. With a servile whimper she sensuously caressed her thigh along Hemlock's own, showing off her eagerness to please.

Hemlock chuckled in triumph, fingers caressing the shaman's flowering slit. The small green woman squalled with pleasure, spreading her legs and pressing her moist sex against those fingers like a feral bitch in heat.

Hemlock shifted down into a squat, nudging at the other goblin's open pussy with her lips. Black Ember spread herself more, offering up herself ardently.

The thick warrior's tongue snaked out, raking gently along the other female's outer lips. She yummed softly in delight at the salty-creamy taste. A gush of juices met her as she wormed her oral appendage into the heated silken sleeve just beyond.

Hemlock hooked lack Ember's shapely leg over her rounded shoulder, allowing much better access. Black Ember leaned to her side to better accommodate the new position, tightly gripping the wagon wheel's wide wooden spars to brace herself.

The goblin leader's tongue jabbed wetly at her lover's salty depths. It was long and agile enough that Hemlock could simultaneously curl it up over the other woman's pubic mound, allowing her to rasp lightly over Ember's clitoris with every inward thrust.

The wooden spokes squeaked under Black Ember's tightly-gripping fingers as her inner ecstasy built rapidly. Lovers for years now, Hemlock knew every inner crevice and bump that would drive the magic-user crazy. Her tongue plucked at her lover like a lyre, Black Ember's soft cries her symphony.

The shaman's entire face flushed red as she began undulating her hips involuntarily, pumping her pussy hard on that invading tongue. The sharp sensations built and built. Then all at once, the erotic furnace between her legs burst over and she groaned wildly into the countryside. Her orgasming cunt drenched Hemlock's tongue with little squirts of heated lubrication.

Hemlock slowly pulled away, murfling in satisfaction. She gave the half-turned buns of Black Ember's rear a quick little swat, then kissed her way back up the shaman's body. The other woman mewled sensuously as they swaddled tongues, tasting her own heat on Hemlock's lips.

The warrior goblin turned them around, so that she was the one leaning against the wagon wheel and Black Ember was facing her. She split her legs and pushed her hips forward to emphasize her black-furred pubic mound. Her fingers split the glistening lips just beneath. My turn, Wolfie, she proclaimed.

Black Ember slipped down onto all fours, playfully rubbing her cheek against Hemlock's knee like a begging puppy. Hemlock smiled and ran her hand over her lover's swarthy scalp with genuine affection.

Small rivulets of moisture dripped down Hemlock's green thighs. Black Ember followed the trails of dew with her tongue, eventually tracing back up to their source. Her agile tongue rasped slickly over Hemlock's exposed slit, long nose nestling in the other woman's black bush.

The goblin leader's soft gasps were interspersed with quiet little titters. One of Hemlock's odder quirks was where most other women would moan or gasp during sex, she often laughed or giggled involuntarily to express her pleasure.

Black Ember traced her way completely around the puffy green outer lips, slowly spiraling in to the slick pink tunnel beyond. She continued in broad circles, licking up every inch of the inner vaginal walls she could reach, eventually arching her oral appendage up to wiggle heavily at Hemlock's sensitive g-spot. Hemlock's whole being felt flushed with warmth as she was pushed deeper and deeper into body-shivering ecstasy by that probing tongue.

After a few moments, the shaman pulled away. Turn around? she asked.

Hemlock did so, grabbing onto the wheel spars and poking her jiggly jade rear out for her lover. Black Ember wasted no time in pulling those soft jade moons apart and using her tongue tip to tickle at Hemlock's tight anal ring.

Hemlock's giggling took on a much deeper, heartier guffaw, intermixed with genuine erotic moans. The goblin warrior adored having her ass played with.

Black Ember drilled her tongue deep into Hemlock's pucker. The plump female's whole body trembled hard, then even more so as first one finger, then two, simultaneously slipped into her sopping yoni.

The shaman's tongue stropped in and out, lips pressed tightly against that green rosebud as her digits churned through Hemlock's pussy to the knuckle. Hemlock orgasmed hard, her body convulsing head to toe just before every muscle locked up tight in rapture. Her anal ring spasmed tightly on Black Ember's invading tongue even as her pussy walls did the same on her fingers.

Afterward, the shaman stood and nuzzled against her lover from behind. Hemlock twisted her head back for a kiss, but stopped as she sensed the shaman's body abruptly tense against hers. We are being watched, the magic user said quietly into her pointed ear.

CHAPTER 2

K-keep pretending nothing's amiss, Hemlock whispered back, trying to concentrate through the lingering tingles from her orgasm. How many?

Black Ember nuzzled perfunctorily against Hemlock's neck, even as her nostrils flared wide for stray scents. Three, I think. Humans males. They're moving in now.

Hemlock gave a shallow nod. Probably waited for the 'show' to end. Let them get close enough to surprise them, then attack. When you move, so will I.

Black Ember murfled pleasantly, running a hand over Hemlock's naked rump and squeezing. Purely for show at this point, as the older female took that as a disguised assent.

A handful of heartbeats later the strangers jumped from the cover of the surrounding brush and rushed the two naked women.

The trio of humans had surrounded their wagon and came at them spread out from three different directions, probably thinking to cut off any possible escape. Hemlock smiled thinly. That meant they expected the two goblin women to flee. If so, they were in for quite a rude surprise.

As soon as Black Ember pushed herself away from Hemlock, she willed her form to shift. Her flesh and bone seemed to instantly turn to liquid, flowing and cresting unnaturally like a wave of water. In the space of a breath, her body splashed up, and then down again onto all fours into the form of a large, shaggy, gray-furred wolf.

The two attackers at an angle to see the transformation stopped in their tracks, mouths agape and unsure of what to make of the shapeshifter.

The transfigured goblin leapt on the nearest one, growling hideously through the air. The human was caught flat-footed, trying to block her with his wooden club, but was a split-second too late. The wolf's forepaws landed on the attacker's chest, even as her teeth fastened around his throat. In an instant, she crushed his larynx with a savage clamping of her jaws. Blood sprayed everywhere even as sharp rear claws raked down the doomed soul's abdomen.

Even as Black Ember was transforming, Hemlock dashed around the nearest corner of the wagon, grabbing her large, curved scimitar from the driver's bench. From long-ingrained habit, she always placed her weapons within easy reach, and even at the height of her tryst with Black Ember she made sure they were never more than an arm's length away.

She had her blade clasped firmly in hand as the third human reached her. She easily dodged a downward blow by his cudgel, then parried as he tried to swing it back up at her. He was nearly twice her bulk, but goblin muscles were usually an even match for any human's, no matter the difference in size. He did not get a third stroke as the small woman separated his weapon-baring hand from his forearm with a powerful downward chop.

The big male squawled in horror, his new stump spouting crimson high in the air. Hemlock quickly disemboweled him with her next stroke as he stood there, stunned. He slumped to his knees, then tumbled backward, his face a mask of horrified disbelief even as he died in a dark puddle of his own entrails.

Black Ember was still finishing her first victim. Not content with just ripping out a throat, she shook the human like a rag doll in her jaws, breaking his neck like a wolf would with a caught rabbit. The instincts of her canine form could sometimes override those of her normal goblin self, especially with the taste of blood on her black lips.

That left just one attacker. The remaining human could only gape at the fate of his comrades. He held his club before him like a warding symbol as he took a step back, apparently intent on turning and running.

The one smart one, Hemlock noted, and likely their leader. She ran at him, scimitar poised high. The human gobbled in fear, unsure whether to flee or defend himself. He seemed loathe to turn his back on her after seeing her dismember his comrade, so he swung his club hard enough to knock her sword to the side.

Just as she had anticipated. He was a clear amateur at fighting,