Hello all! After a short break I’m doing a genre shift and will be writing Fantasy stuff again. I’m starting off with a new Goblin impregnation themed poll driven story but plan on picking up some in progress stories to add to my story rotation! Till then you can find the new story below the break.

Content Warning/Kink Spoilers: This is just an introductory entry and has no sex in it. The story will center on women “untouched by cocks” being defeated/captured by Goblins and used to breed them.

Juliana Birkenhead, Sisterhood Ranger

The sound of small, shuffling feet mixed with the normal sounds of a vibrant deep forest. Ahead of the sound animals fled, sensing something dark and sinister. It wasn’t the diminutive, cloaked figure they fled, but rather the miasma of corruption surrounding it.

Grumbles came from under the cloak hiding the small figure’s features. It had come a long way, something that was no easy task for its frail and aged little body. Any who spotted the figure shuffling its way through the forest might have thought at first glance it was a sickly thin Dwarve, hunched over with age. Those who looked closer might have realized it was far too small to be a Dwarve and might have then figured it to be a Smidgen.

Those who dared to look closer would have noticed the green, overlarge hooked green nose poking out of the hood. That would have been enough to reveal the truth. It was a Goblin! And if it WAS a Goblin then the charm-covered stick it was using to support itself was no walking stick.

The Goblin Shaman had once been a member of a mighty tribe. They’d been slowly hunted down and slaughtered by the “big people”, the ones that called themselves “Adventurers”. He was all that remained now, having barely escaped the final slaughter of his tribe.

Since then he had been following dreams and visions given to him by Azel, the Cock God. Azel had only been one of the many “perverse” deities his tribe had worshiped. That was going to change. Azel had promised the Goblin Shaman much glory and a new tribe if he dedicated all his faith, and all his future tribe’s faith, only to him. The Goblin Shaman had agreed eagerly, although he might not have done so if he had known Azel would require him to travel such a long distance.

But now he was at his journey’s end. This was THE forest he had been led to, and not far ahead was the place his new tribe would be founded. There it was, just like Azel had shown him in his dreams! He picked up his shuffling walk and advanced on it quickly.

It didn’t look like much, just a rocky uprise jutting out of the forest floor. It stood barely as tall as him, and HE stood barely past the knees of an average Human. Anyone passing it in the forest would think nothing of it. Just a small boulder, perhaps a bit out of place in the forest, but nothing that needed closer inspection.

The Goblin Shaman knew it was so much more than it looked. Ages ago a grand temple of Azel had stood here, with the rock being all that remained of the idol to Azel that had stood in the center of it. He’d seen the temple in his visions, a grand place of perverse worship where men and women of all races came to praise Azel the Cock God.

But the temple had fallen, destroyed along with its followers. Afterwards only the phallic idol had remained. Over the ages it had grown weathered, slowly worn down to a stub as the wilds reclaimed the land that had once been a great city. Now it was a weathered shadow of its former glory, with little to no evidence remaining of what it had once been.

The Goblin Shaman ran his old, scrawny, shaking fingers across the rock till he found what looked like weathered scratches. He knew once the scratches had been the inscription at the base of the mighty phallic idol. Even if the inscription had still been legible it wouldn’t have mattered, it was written in a long-forgotten language only a few living scholars would be able to recognize.

Even though the Goblin Shaman had been shown what the writing had said in his visions of the past, what the words HAD read didn’t matter. This had been a place of power and it would be again, but it would be different. Azel’s glory would not come through the rebuilding of his grand temple. It would come through a new Goblin tribe, one different than the one the Goblin Shaman was the sole survivor of. It would not just be a new tribe of Goblins, but a new race of them reshaped by Azel’s perverse whims.

The idol, through Azel’s divine magic, would reform and take on new shape. The words carved at its base would reform too, saying something very different than what they’d said before. The Goblin Shaman had seen these new words in his visions, carved into the stone by divine magic so that anyone looking upon them would see them in a language they would understand.

“Here the wombs of women untouched carnally by cock must be taken in the name of Azel. Through the Cock god’s phallic glory his Goblin servants shall grow mighty and numerous as those wombs, and the women attached to them, are turned into servants of Azel’s servants.”

The Goblin Shaman was the first of Azel’s Goblin servants. As soon as he had a womb, and the woman attached to it, that was untouched carnally by any cock it would begin. His power would grow. His new tribe would be born and grow. They would grow mighty, mightier than the old tribe that had been slaughtered by so many Adventurers.

Azel’s power would keep this new tribe safe for a time, hiding them from the world as they grew while drawing women untouched carnally by men to them. By the time Azel withdrew his divine protection it wouldn’t matter how many Adventurers were sent to “clear” them out.

The Goblin Shaman smiled an evil grin. When next the Adventurers came for his tribe they’d be ready. They would slaughter the men the way the men had slaughtered them. And the women? Well, even if they weren’t untouched carnally by men and had wombs that could help grow their tribe they could still be put to good use…

But that was all a long way off. The idol needed to be reawakened so that the first womb and the woman attached to it could be drawn to him.

He started chanting out perverse prayers to Azel’s might. As he did this he used his staff to draw phallic runes and artwork in the dirt surrounding the weather-worn rock. Those etched symbols started to glow with sparking red energy. Soon the glowing art and runes were sending a flowing river of sparking red divine power into the rock.

The Goblin Shaman took a few steps back, chanting louder. His beady little eyes, nearly white with cloudy cataracts, glowed red. The divine power of Azel burnt away the cataracts, giving him clear vision. Under him the ground rumbled. The rock before him started to shake then rise from the ground. As it did its shape changed, becoming more phallic and obscene in shape.

As the newly reborn idol of Azel grew in its erect glory something else grew erect as well. The Goblin Shaman felt as renewed as the idol, and the little green pecker that had hung limp between his legs for so long now rose just like the idol. How long since he’d felt so hard? And did his painfully raging erection feel bigger?

After throwing off his cloak to reveal he was naked under it the Goblin Shaman looked down and saw his little green cock WAS bigger. He dropped to his knees, bowed his head, and in his chattering Goblin tongue he praised Azel’s might. He’d worried even when the womb was drawn to him he’d not be able to impregnate it. But now he saw he never should have worried, Azel would take care of everything.

The womb would arrive soon, the woman attached to it untouched carnally by any man. Azel would give him the power to subdue her. Azel would continue to renew his old body and by the time the woman was in his grasp he’d have the sexual stamina to take and impregnate her. And then the tribe’s rebirth could begin!

* * *

Juliana Birkenhead was a Human Ranger and a member of the Sisterhood of Righteousness. Like many of the organization’s members she had been raised by the Sisterhood and trained from a young age to be one of its warriors. Although only a few years past coming of age she’d already proved herself worthy many times over. She was trusted to explore the wilds alone, searching out places tainted by The Corruption to lead larger groups of Sisterhood members to rid Alaria of these places needing cleansing.

“I think we’re getting closer, Furrowleaf,” she said in a soft, quiet tone to the lumbering Dire Wolf moving through the forest alongside her. She reached out to the best, her ever-present traveling companion, and stroked its back. “You feel it too,” she said as she felt the wolf’s hackles rise.

“This is the place those dreams have been leading us. This forest has the taint of The Corruption in it… But it’s new. Fresh. We must discover who or what is causing the taint to spread. If it or they are something we can cleanse we’ll do so on our own. But if not… well, you know how it works by now, my dearest friend. We pull back and report back to the Sisterhood keep and return leading a MUCH larger force.”

Furrowleaf the Dire Wolf stopped then growled.

“What is it, girl?” Juliana knew that growl. It meant danger that needed sniffing out.

The Dire Wolf led them off the game trail they’d been following, sniffing and snouting into the nearby underbrush. When the wolf froze then barked Juliana rushed to her side, drawing and stringing her bow then nocking an arrow before reaching her companion.

When Juliana saw the danger Furrowleaf had discovered she lowered her bow and let the arrow pulled tight on the bow string loosen, although she didn’t return it to the quiver on her back. Even if THIS danger didn’t require an arrow through its throat there might be others nearby.

“Not too close,” she warned Furrowleaf. When the Dire Wolf backed away she moved closer, kneeling to inspect the danger her companion had spotted. “Tookabrew mushrooms,” Juliana whispered, glaring at the red-capped fungus.

The evil mushrooms only grew in places infused with The Corruption, the perverse power the Sisterhood had been formed to combat. Wherever the dark power spread it changed things, perverting and corrupting them. Often when The Corruption started to take hold of an area Tookabrew mushrooms were one of the first physical signs of the power taking hold and changing things.

She got to her feet and backed away slowly, looking all around to make sure there weren’t any other patches of the vile red mushrooms nearby. They were tools of The Corruption and were not to be trusted. When brewed and added to potions they would cause the magical drinks to have strange, often sexual side effects. And when encountered in the wild they were known to be able to explode into spore clouds that were even more potent and dangerous, especially to a woman like Juliana.

“Find the source of the Corruption,” Juliana muttered as she and Furrowleaf made their way carefully back to the game trail. “Find it, cleanse it, or if it’s too dangerous return with a greater force to do the job.”

Once they returned to the trail there was no question in her mind they were getting closer. The forest was growing thicker, with the underbrush and canopy overhead growing more wild and dense. The Corruption did that to places.

As she and her companion advanced deeper into the forested wilds the air grew thicker, stuffier, muskier even. The land and its vegetation were growing dangerously fertile in this place. But the taint of The Corruption was still faint. It hadn’t yet taken root here, meaning it could still be easily cleansed.

“A person or relic is causing this,” Juliana told Furrowleaf, talking as much to herself as the Dire Wolf. Her bow was still drawn, but she had returned the arrow to the quiver on her back. If she needed one she could have it drawn far faster than most could draw their sword.

“We’ve seen it before,” she went on. “I’ve cleansed such things before. So why am I so anxious about this outing into the wilds? It can’t be the dreams that led me here. Divine in nature, no doubt about that. Clearly a blessing from one of the deities aligned against those perverse gods who have given themselves to The Corruption.”

Furrowleaf nuzzled its huge snout into her hand. The soft, reassuring touch was all Juliana needed to be reminded of why this potentially dangerous adventure into the wilds was different from all the others she’d set out on. In the past she’d had only the drive of the Sisterhood’s mission to protect Alaria and its inhabitants from The Corruption. But in the time between her last adventure and this one she’d grown close to one of her fellow Sisterhood members who lived in the same keep as her.

The memories of the woman’s warm, soft body against hers sent a wave of flush heat through Juliana’s body. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling slowly as she indulged in the memory of her lover’s hand running through her long red hair as they lay together in the dark. That memory melded into one of the woman braiding some of Juliana’s long red hair in preparation for this mission.

Juliana reached up, fingering the braided strand of hair tucked behind her ear. “I want to return to her,” she whispered. “That’s why this all feels so much more dangerous than it normally does. I want to return to my love and share the nightly passions we’ve been sharing… To feel her hands exploring my most womanly of places. To feel her lips stopping to kiss those same places!”

Furrowleaf stopped, her hackles rising once again, as she let out a long, low growl.

“I feel it too,” Juliana whispered, crouching beside the Dire Wolf as an arrow flew in a flash from her quiver to her bow. She pulled the string back, peering carefully around the forest. “Feel it but don’t see or hear anything.” She waited in silence for a bit longer then let the string loosen slightly.

“Something isn’t right about this place,” she muttered. All her carefully attuned senses that came from being a Ranger were telling her there was danger here, not just ahead but closing in on her. “I might already be in over my head,” she muttered, realizing the fond memories of her lady lover had distracted her from the danger she faced.

The fierce, lithe warrior suddenly looked like a scared girl as she bit her bottom lip. “I know you don’t like leaving my side, Furrowleaf, but I think I need to send you back to the keep,” she whispered quickly to the Dire Wolf. “If I am in danger I can’t escape on my own they need to know. You go home, you let them know I might need help, and you lead them back here. Understand?”

For a moment the Dire Wolf met her gaze, the connection between them exchanging a whole conversation in a few heartbeats, then the wolf bowed in submission. She would do as her master wanted even if she didn’t like leaving her behind.

Juliana leaned down and nuzzled the wolf’s muzzle. “Go on, girl, I can take care of myself. Any danger strong enough to overcome me would be strong enough to overcome you as well. Now go, quick and quiet,” she told the wolf.

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I intend on this being a series of shorts about women being defeated and made to breed Goblins. I’d like each to show the growth of this race of corrupted goblins over time, but I want to let the polls determine the length of each story and how quickly the over all story moves as we go. If you want the stories to be shorter and faster paced help that along with the choices you make in the polls, if you want it slower and longer choose accordingly as well!

Although it will take at least a few more entries before Juliana meets her doom we’re going to decide now what happens to Juliana’s Dire Wolf, Furrowleaf. (Choose up to 2 options from this poll)

As the story continues what perverse danger will Juliana now face? (Choose up to 4 options from this poll)

We’ve established the power of Azel is renewing the Goblin Shaman. But how much should the wizened old Goblin change? (Choose up to 2 options from this poll)