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Squall the Barbarian and the Love Pit of Queen Rubysnatch

by Scrub Pine

Squall the Barbarian towered above the shivering guardsman. Of course, this wasn't too difficult, because the guardsman in question was a tired-looking goblin of diminutive stature. He looked up at Squall with some irritation.

"Could you step back?" he said, shooing the foreigner from the vestibule of the small guard shack.

"I want to close the door while I go over your papers. It's freezing out there!"

Squall would oblige the little man's curtness... this time.

The guard re-emerged moments later.

"I thought you were a merchant with that tome of documents," he remarked.

"These were... mostly not necessary."

"Not_NECESSARY_?" boomed Squall, retrieving his papers.

"Why are you shouting? No, not necessary. Well, the passport, I would have asked for that. But the dream journal? The multiple letters of recommendation from your grandmother? Those were completely superfluous.

"-although," the goblin added quickly, seeing the flame of white-hot wroth surge in Squall's eyes.

"She makes you sound like a fine young man."

Not wanting to draw out his time with the stranger, the goblin signaled to have the gate of the town in opened. The traveler looked mostly harmless, despite the presence of an oversized sword strapped to his back, the weight of which he seemed to be struggling.

There were worse characters in town. And one bumpkin could only do so much damage.

Squall the Barbarian entered the town of Sansvirgene and came upon High Street. Although a modest locale, it was busier than anything in the halfling hamlet from which he hailed.

As he walked down the street, he could hear the chirps and babble of twenty dozen races arguing and cajoling in their respective dialects. Clear-eyed elves sold rare runic tomes, all while girdled with their fantastical metalwork. Lusty goblin maidens made quick work of turkey legs. Humans, having all the rich tonal varieties displayed by hogs.

It was the first time Squall had seen the bustling town. He had recently come of age -- well, it had been some years, really - and his aging parents had softly, and then by degrees, more explicitly, suggested that he take leave from his small childhood home and begin to make his own way in the world.

He couldn't blame them, really. Squall was, after all, the largest boy from his village, and being nearly twice the height of his own father, and would have, before too long, eaten the little halfling couple out of house and home. Some of the village children used to jest that Squall was actually a human child, abandoned in the forest by drunkards, and that it was only by the charity of his adoptive parents that the boy ever stood a chance in the world.

But Squall never minded these mean-spirited rumors, and insisted to his father that there must be giant's blood somewhere in the family line; a theory that the old halfling always politely entertained. But whether from a noble and gigantic lineage, or simply the product of a night of booze-fueled passion (unlikely!), because of Squall's clear physically superiority over his pint-sized playmates, he had always fancied that he could become a barbarian.

And so it was, when this giant little-man had reached 25 summers, and an average to less-than-average physique for a man of that age, he eschewed the ready possibility of honest, manual labor (of which there was desperate need in the small farming village) and set out, instead, for grand adventure.

He spent the entirety of his gold at the first opportunity, exchanging a small inheritance for a large but poorly-crafted longsword for which he had absolutely no training. But faint hearts have never won a thing, and he certainly wasn't going to become a great hero by clipping coppers!

In the town, he soon came upon a tavern popular with adventurers. A small group of fellow barbarians were milling about outside. These guys were huge! Probably full giants (as opposed to Squall, who was just a half-giant).

A short time later, our young hero was within the tavern, and standing before a kiosk wherein was hunched a be-speckled representative of the Adventures' Guild. The figure bent behind a small mountain of manuscripts was an orc, much too large for his cramped workspace; a fact that explained his unnatural sitting posture and also some long-term health effects some years down the line. The orc in question was one "Golak the Skull-Pulverizer", and had once been a member of a ferocious mercenary band. But later in life, he had taken a clerical job at the behest of his wife, and years of this sedentary lifestyle had left him a doughy and low-energy man. Despite the minimal physical demands as a Guild Representative, Golak was constantly tired.

He raised his dull eyes to meet Squall as he finished pressing a wax seal with the guild's insignia into the folds of an envelope.

"Can I help you?"

Squall thumped his chest and gave a long-winded introduction of himself while Golak stared past him and through the leaded window, contemplating his life.

"I take it you're here for a quest?"

The orc leaned over without getting up from his seat and took out a large folio, bound in black leather, which contained a vast catalog of quests and petitions for heroic deeds. But then, turning to face Squall, and really seeing him for the first time, Golak returned the book and pulled out a thinner, blue volume which he placed on the desk between himself and the stranger.

Squall opened the volume and flipped through the various manuscripts, becoming increasingly agitated as he did.

"Errand boy? Cobbler's apprentice? What are these??"

"I thought you wanted a job."

"I want an ADVENTURE!"

The Skull-Pulverizer again stared out the window.

"Look, kid. I've done this awhile, and I can tell you're a little wet behind the ears. So let's start small, okay?"

Then, gesturing with his chin to the broadsword on Squall's back,

"Can you even swing that thing?"

"I swung it into your dad last night," Squall muttered.

"What? Was some kind of sexual remark? Or are you saying that you physically assaulted my father with a sword the evening prior?"

"I... your -your dad."

"Sir, my father is alive and well, and a respected member of the Orcish-Maldevan community. I would recommend you refrain from such antagonistic statements while at the guild hall. Now, do you want a job or not?"

The fierce contest of words ended, with the Skull-Pulverizer coming out victor. He flipped through the folio of low-tier quests in front of the Squall, thumbing the pages until he stopped on a more recent one.

"Okay, here's one that might fit you. It's a simple escort job. A merchant wants a hired guard to travel with them to the next province. The road between here and the neighboring province's capital is relatively safe, so the presence of a hired sword is probably enough to deter any troublemakers-"

Squall pounded his fist onto Golak's desk resolutely.

"I will demolish any who cross our path! I will see to it that bloodlines end!"

"Please don't," said Golak, without looking up.

"The only characters you're likely to encounter on that route are kobolds. They're everywhere in the region to the north of here. But they mind their own business... unless..."

He stared over the top of spectacles at the barbarian, somewhat accusingly.

"...unless someone riles them up."

The merchant who had posted the quest soon appeared, as she had been staying in a room at the tavern. She was a pretty goblin with a thick head of black, curly hair. Squall remarked to himself that she was somewhat like the girls from his own village, in that she was short and spade-eared. Although this woman was green in complexion and was greatly endowed in certain areas where a modest and _chaste_halfling girl would not be. It was quite obscene!

Squall had never met a goblin before today, but he had heard about the race from the locals' stories while in the village tavern back home. And these stories had convinced him that when goblinfolk weren't swindlers or outright thieves, they were still the most lecherous and lust-ridden creatures in the Four Realms.

He recalled now the tale of the woodsman, Scappoli, (an honest man if there ever was one!) and how he had to be bailed out of debtor's prison by his brother after a group of goblin maids at the neighboring public house had somehow tricked him into giving them all his gold! The innkeeper had found Scappoli in an upstairs room half-conscious and even robbed of his trousers! The poor man!

And then there was dear Miss Eventide, an apple-cheeked and motherly lady who served as the village's schoolmistress. One day, when she failed to show for her lessons, one of the townsfolk went to her cottage to see as to her health. When they came to call, they found the kindy Miss Eventide in bed, on all fours, lowing like a sow, as a traveling goblin tinkerer, thick and as green as a cucumber, thrust into her from behind. That even such wicked goblin magic could deceive a lady as wholesome as the schoolmistress!

Yes, every tale involving a goblin seemed to end in some debauchery, so surely this merchant-woman was no different! Why look at her!

Despite the fact that she was dressed conservatively --her sleeves went all the way to the wrists and her jacket buttoned up just beneath her chin-- it was all clearly just a ruse meant to hide her true nature! Sham civility! The outfit did nothing to prevent Squall from noticing her extraordinary figure and contemplating what she looked like in the nude.

A halfling girl had the decency to possess a willowy form: petite, and free from such wanton curves! But the shameless goblin knew no such prudence! Her neck was delicate, but her deliciously large ass and tits came off her thin waist like ripened fruit. In Squall's eyes, she might has well have been naked, and therefore, the many layers of dense clothing were for naught. A false pretense to modesty like the transparent silk held by a dancing-girl that is used as much to entice as it is to conceal!

Why, by simply unfastening the twenty-odd buttons on the goblin's outer jacket, and then everyone could just see her blouse! Scandalous!! And it wouldn't be too difficult afterwards to pull said blouse up over her head, under which she was probably wearing a cute, little undergarment. How shameful!

And if one unfastened the ties that held in place such anundergarment, how easily those goodly green globes would come bounding out! Round and soft! Squall could vividly see them in his mind's eye. She probably had great nipples too... Goblins were clearly of the most lustful and manipulative nature! She knew exactly what she was doing!

And none of this was to mention her clothing below the waist! For example, if one were to simply unlace her knee-length boots and undo the double-overhand knot keeping her garters in place, (a goblin woman as lewd as her probably had sexy, silken garters) why, her-

"Why is he just staring at me like that?," said the goblin woman, suddenly.

"What the hell is wrong with this kid?"

The merchant thus interrupted the flow of imagery she was forcibly projected into the hero's head (classic goblin head games!).

"Look at him," said Golak, dryly. "This kid's straight off the farm. He probably thinks you're gonna steal all his gold, or his teeth, or something."

"Goblins are nothing if not crafty creatures!" retorted Squall.

Golak shook his head.

"It's year 7,453 of the reign of Lord Ba'hewmuff and people are still so ignorant. And I bet you think I'm some big, bad lout who does nothing but pillage and ravish every woman I see, but I haven't even made love to my own wife in over five years."

The goblin crossed her arms.

"I have to leave town immediately, and this is the best the guild can offer?"

"I dunno. He's a bit odd," conceded Golak.

"But he's a barbarian, so I'm sure he'll be fine for an escort job."

"Barbarian?" responded the lewd goblin, incredulously.

"He's not even that big."

"I'm part giant, part halfling."

"Are you sure you're not just an average-sized human dude? A little below-average, actually, now that I'm looking at ya."

Such were the hostilities that these monstrous races visited upon our hero. But he took the job nonetheless, because nobody else would hire him.

????????????????????

Squall and the betwitching goblin (and when I say "bewitching" here, I don't mean alluring, because an iron-willed hero such as Squall wouldn't get distracted by that sort of thing. Big green tiddies did absolutely nothing for a man of his heroic nature. No, I mean bewitching in a more literal sense. Like she's casting some sort of dark magic and getting in his head) shortly set out upon the road.

The goblin eventually introduced herself as Claire, of the Nettleborne family. The clan were wine merchants going back several generations and the current members often went about the country, looking for buyers, or unusual ingredient for experimental infusions.

The woman had a small cart drawn by a single horse. She held the reins with Squall seated beside her. They traveled in this manner for some time until Clair stifled a yawn and shook her head.

"The orc said you were a country boy, didn't he? I'm sure you can manage the reins a moment?"

And with that, Claire passed the reins and hauled herself into the bed of the cart.

"I had a full morning," she called out, "So I'm just going to lie down for a spell (A "spell"? See, I told you!). Just stay on the road. We'll be going in this direction for awhile."

Claire began removing her boots, and the sound of the shoestrings passing through the eyelets caused Squall's head to pivot around.

"I knew it!," Squall said to himself.

"That toad is trying to seduce me! Seduce me with bare feet!"

And even though a goblin would totally do something like that, Claire did seem genuinely tired, and would have been horrified to find that Squall's attention had strayed from the road. But the heat of the day proved too oppressive to notice such things. There were no trees along this stretch of road to offer any shade, just a scattered series of low hills, a few having the occasional aperture, signaling entrance to a kobold nest. So instead of closely monitoring her hired hand who was, after all, a grown man, she began to make herself more comfortable, removing the stiff leather vest, and folding it up to use as a pillow.

When Squall saw this, he gasped and nearly fell off the cart. In righting himself, he managed to pull the horse's lead to the left, and the whole cart began to slowly drift into the middle of the path.

Claire, still fully clothed and looking thoroughly un-seductive, settled into a comfortable position and closed her eyes. This was too much for Squall, who was determined not to be taken in by the goblin's tricks. He leapt into the back of the cart and began to bury her in the loose hay that cushioned the glass bottles of wine in their crates.

"COVER YOUR SHAME, SIREN!"

Realizing that hay was being heaped upon her, Claire began to scream.

"What the HELL are you doing??"

The commotion at its rear caused the horse to break into an anxious sprint and, having no one to correct the animal's course, it continued across the road, eventually leaving it completely and continuing down a washed out berm adjacent. Squall lost his footing and fell on his face as several wine vessels bounced off the back and shattered against the earth.

They were now speeding down the steep incline of a small valley as Claire clambered to her feet and began to climb over the hapless barbarian, grabbing the back of his trousers for leverage which caused Squall to let out an indignant screech. She crawled forward, reached for the reins of the horse, but it was too late. The wheel of the carriage hit a large stone and caused it to jump upward, snapping the leather ties which bound it to the horse. The horse jumped free of its burden neurotically pranced up and away, but the wagon continued on its course, sledging down the incline.

Claire saw then, that the shadowy bottom of the small valley beneath them was, in fact, the ledge of a pit that fell sharply down. The cart reached the precipice at full speed, and it, wine, and passengers all plummeted downward into the blackness.

In the brief free-fall, the faces of Claire and Squall went white, before the wheels of the cart folded beneath them, and they hit the bottom with a loud, echoing crash.

When the dust had settled, Claire held her breath for a moment, fearful she had broken every bone in her body. After a moment of nervously prodding her own limbs, and realizing that she was in one piece, she leapt to her feet with a tiny roar.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you...? Do you realize how much MONEY you just lost me?? You will NEVER set foot in that guild hall AGAIN!!!"

Looking around him, Squall saw that they had landed into a sizable cavern. The air was dense and gloomy, and the only light came from the large opening that had just feel through, some thirty feet above.

The tiny goblin continued to rave about her companion's idiocy, but Squall was only half paying attention. As the moments ticked on, he realized that it was more than Claire's shouting that was breaking the quietude of the cavern. From one direction, and then another, and soon all about the periphery of the cave there came a rustling, as if the cautious tread of many small and taloned feet.

The sparse glow from above caught the glassy sheen of reptilian eyes, and a host of chattering begin to bubble over Claire's words, eventually silencing the merchant altogether when she, too, realized that they were not alone.

The cavern's inhabitants, initially startled by the sudden intrusion, now made themselves plainly known. A sea of kobolds encircled the pair, their collective bodies, an iridescence of scales: red, gold, turquoise, and violet. Squall reached for the grip of his longsword, but Claire stopped him, clutching the sleeve of his shirt, anxiously.

"Don't," she whispered, urgently. "You can't do that..."

"Why not?" replied Squall, keeping his voice low. "They're small."

"Don't you see how many of them there are? A guy your size could take on a few at a time, sure. But when you get this many? They're no joke."

The creatures continued to circle them, and Squall could not read if their intent was one of curiosity or hostility.

"Plus, we don't know how to get out of here," added Claire

"The worst thing we could do right now, is provoke them to attack."

Squall realized she was right, and moved his hand away from his sword.

Suddenly, the tense air was broken by a commanding cry that rose above the general chatter.

"Make way! MAKE WAY!!!"

The source of the voice followed the course of a bobbing ostrich plume which zig-zagged toward the carriage through the crowd.

"I said...MAKE WAY!"

The voice's owner emerged at the edge of the clearing: a kobold with bright yellow scales, a bit more petite than its compatriots, except for its thick haunches which made it resemble, to Squall, some flightless bird that had been plucked clean.

The creature was evidently an individual of some status, as evidenced by the pretense to authority over its fellows, and a legionnaire-style helmet, unique among the half-naked denizens of the cave, from which the large feather sprang.

"YOU THERE!" she barked, pointing a miniature bardiche accostingly at Squall.

"What's the meaning of all this??"

"Huh? All what?"

"This! All this!" yelled the kobold, pointing at the various refuse that had scattered from the cart. Her plume nodding furiously as she moved her gaze from one spot to the next.

"Such clutter! And right before the breeding festival! All this glass will NEED to be cleaned up immediately!"

There were some nods of assent from the crowd.

"Yes...safety first...hmm, yes..."

As a few individuals stepped forward to assist in the cleanup, the armed kobold espied a few undamaged bottles of wine, still in their crates.

"THAT'S not the traders' entrance!" she screeched, pointing directly up at the hole in the ceiling.

"Be more careful next time, or you will lose your privileges of commerce with the GREAT Kingdom of Deepbottom!"

Squall looked to Claire, thoroughly confounded. But the goblin took the opportunity to command the situation, and slid forward with clasped hands.

"Yes, of course! Our deep apologies! The roads above are in abysmal disrepair."

Then, moving in closer to the kobold's side, "You know how poorly the surface government manages its infrastructure! We did not mean to enter the kingdom by incorrect channels."

The kobold seemed satisfied with the show of deference, and nodded her head curtly, which caused the plume to waggle.

"Hmph! Yes, I imagine you surface-dwellers are quite careless as to your own affairs. You could learn a thing or two from the beneficent rule of Queen Rubysnatch!"

The other kobolds had made quick work of the cleanup, even the damaged cart had been hoisted away under the effort of many small hands. There were still a number of wine vessels which had remained intact, and Claire made no hesitation in scooping one up and offering it to the small reptile commanding the scene.

"Please, accept these as a small compensation for the inconvenience we have caused you!"

"It's not me you should be offering them to!" squeaked the kobold.

"But the Queen! She will be arriving shortly for the breeding festival!"

Squall moved to Claire's side.

"What this 'breeding festival' it keeps talking about? I don't wanna hang around in some stinky kobold orgy."

"Would you, shut up??" hissed Claire.

"We're lucky to be alive right now! Don't insult the local custom!"

Squall shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Leave it to a goblin to be right at home in a big, lizard love pit. This was probably her plan the whole time. But Squall decided that the goblin had done enugh damage for one day.

"Well," he announced.

"I don't think we need to delay any longer. Don't let us intrude on your fuck party. We'll be taking our leave!"

Claire shot him daggers. And the kobold knight clapped the butt of the bardiche against the stones.

"No!" she declared. "You stay!"

Suddenly, there was a hush among the assembly in the cavern. A large figure was moving at the periphery and there was a yelp as some jumped aside to make room.

"Don't you know how kobold society works?" whispered Claire.

"The 'Queen' is probably a dragon!"

A smirk appeared on Squall's face and he put his thumb and forefinger on either side of his chin thoughtfully. Defeating a dragon? Now _that_was a task worthy of a real hero!

Claire looked up at him furiously. "Whatever idiot thing you're thinking, _don't_think it! If we wanna leave this place alive, we gotta play along!"

As the mysterious entrant approached through the shadows, the kobold knight jumped to one side and snapped her heels together in a smart salute. The dragon-queen approached, reared her head slowly... slowly...and then stopped, for she wasn't really that tall.

"Hail Queen Rubysnatch!" screamed the knight. The vast assembly repeated the salute.

Claire bowed deeply. Squall stood there, stupidly.

"You're the queen?" he asked.

"Why, yes. Isn't it obvious? I am a dragon after all...!"

"You haven't got any wings."

"Dragons don't always have wings!" snapped the queen. "Haven't you ever heard of a 'drake'?"

"I dunno. You kinda just look like them, but bigger," said Squall, pointing to the kobold knight.

"God damn it, will you please just shut up...??" hissed Claire.

"I don't know where to _begin_with how stupid you're being."

"How dare you, human!" screamed the kobold knight.

"She's not just 'bigger', she's deliciously THICK!"

"That'll be enough, Sergeant," said the queen.

"I'm not a human, I'm a _giant,"_protested Squall. "And is that really what you do? Just pick the chick with the biggest ass to be queen?"

"Well, why not?" said Queen Rubysnatch, defensively. "That's what bees do, isn't it? I can't think of any better way on which to found a system of government."

"Queen bees have wings."

Claire rushed forward before her compatriot could say any more.

"Your majesty, your majesty!" She bowed again, so deeply her pointed nose nearly hit the ground.

"Please forgive my traveling companion! He is but a simpleton from a remote countryside, completely ignorant as to the decorum needed before royalty!"

"I will say, he is_quite_ uncouth!" said Queen Rubysnatch. "You should do better, merchant, than to keep such miscreants in your employ."

She turned her head and gestured disdainfully with her open palm. The sheen of her talons glittered like jewels. Her fine scales were light blue with those at her neck and front, paling to a creamy white. These were offset by a scarlet, ankle-length, velvet skirt, that had a slit on either side to reveal her shapely thighs. The garment hung loosely on her hips, encircled by a leather belt with a round silver buckle. She wore no top, but embroidered bands of the same material as the skirt fit snugly on either arm, and gold bands adorned both her wrists and ankles.

"Sirrah," she said, addressing Squall and pointing to the sword on his back.

"There is no need for a trader's assistant to carry such a weapon while within the kingdom. Please yield to the sergeant your sword."

Before Squall could protest, the tiny kobold had jumped on his back, and with great exertion, unsheathed the longsword -which was about as long as her, from snout to tail-- and immediately fell on her back and into the dust under its weight. Squall went to take it back, but half-a-dozen other kobolds jumped up and wrestled him to the ground.

"Tsk, tsk," admonished the queen, shaking her head at the boy, now lost in a knot of writhing lizard tails. "I expect guests to be better behaved!"

Then, turning to Claire, "I'm almost tempted to exclude you two from the festival!"

"Oh, um," Claire looked about her anxiously. A great number of the kobolds in the pit had grown disinterested in the newcomers and had prematurely begun their habitual practice of mass-mating. In the shadows, the goblin maid saw small groups, here and there, engaging in their carnal delights.

"I can see that our presence has been a great inconvenience," said Claire. "So my companion and I will be on our-"

"BUT!" interrupted Queen Rubysnatch.

"I am a ruler known for her largesse, and let it never be said that I turned away a guest! Therefore, you will stay."

"Oh...goodie." said Claire.

A number of male kobolds had lined up behind the queen, already unsheathed and ready.

"Ah!" exclaimed the queen, and toyed with the shaft of the nearest thoughtfully.

"You, dear merchant, shall have your pick among my men.

"Now," here she clapped twice. "Let the festivities begin!"

At the signal from their queen, the kobolds not already rutting began to find partners. There was much chittering in their native tongue as the creatures paired off individually or in groups. If there was any organization to such designations, it was not apparent to Claire, for all the kobolds seemed to approach whichever of their neighbors was most readily at hand.

Despite her offer to Claire of having first pick among the males, the queen lifted up one of her more endowed subjects so that he was straddling her shoulders from the front, and begin to suck him. The lucky male held on by the queen's horns and an idiot grin broke out upon his face as his eyes rolled back into his head. Claire wondered if this one was one of the queen's regular consorts, or if he just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Despite her pretensions to regality, the dragon seemed to possess no hesitation in partnering with her subjects, and took the male deeply into her mouth, lavishing his cock with her long, thick tongue.

Claire, in truth, was fascinated by this exchange. As a member of a family whose business had brought much commerce into the empire, the Nettleborne clan was constantly petitioning the imperial government for a lighter tax contribution. As it was, you would be lucky to get a standardized reply from the office of a regional governor. By contrast, the fact that a commoner of Deepbottom had ready access to blowjobs from the monarch herself, gave Claire pause to consider that there was something to the kobold system of social organization.

As Claire was contemplating such things, the rest of the queen's male retinue had gradually approached the goblin. They seemed surprisingly shy with the newcomer, in light of the debauchery that was going on all around them; but were clearly fascinated by her non-reptilian features, gingerly tracing the lines of her pronounced ears and caressing her smooth skin.

The goblin decided that the touch of a kobold male wasn't the most unpleasant thing she had experienced. The creatures were a little strange in appearance, to goblin eyes, but the fine scales that coated their body were surprisingly smooth, and few even had impressive physiques; comparable to goblin men of a more athletic bent. So, why not? And withthat, she grabbed one of the bottles that still sat by and uncorked it to take a deep drought.

"Fuck it," she said, wiping the wine from her lips. "Guess I'm here. Any of you boys give a good footrub?"

When Queen Rubysnatch had announced the start of the festivities, the several kobolds who had detained Squall now began to strip him of his gear. The chorus of the throng, now in full passion, met his ear. The goblin temptress was nowhere to be seen, but Squall knew intuitively that this whole disaster was entirely her doing.

Despite the barbarian's intense mental fortitude and his iron resistance to all things debacherous, when one kobold maid pulled down his trousers, Squall's erect penis sprung up, full-mast, for all his tormentors to behold. There was a round of impressed squeaks from the kobolds assembled. A creature such as this stranger was a rare treat for them, and it wasn't long before Squall's full body was subject to the attentions of many tongues and hands.

The enthusiastic reptiles took turns sucking him off, competing with each other as to who could take him deepest in their throats. One maid was bold enough to mount Squall's face, and although he refused to indulge her (noble soul that he was!), she was content to tease him as she rocked her hips back and forth, tail held high.

When Squall looked past the enthusiastic creature bouncing on his face, he could see some of the local males receiving similar group adorations; writhing in a heap with three or more partners. And there were also the kobold maids, likewise too popular to take on just a single lover, and instead squealing in delight midst a ring of lusty suitors.

In the middle of it all was the dragon queen. The orgy was her court, and every orgasmic cry from her subjects, praise to her rule. She had since cast aside her belt and skirt, and in her lap was the Sergeant.

With one had, the queen lifting her subordinates ankles to one side as the male whom she had previously been pleasuring, thrust into her with great enthusiasm. With her other hand, the queen periodically bade the pair drink from a bottle of Nettleborne wine.

"Oh, how I adore my lovely subjects..." she sang.

The Sergeant's head rolled back into her eyes with a shuddering orgasm. The queen smiled, took a drink, and lay back, now lifting the girl and placing her so that she sat in the notch of her jaws.

The kobold was too weak in the legs to resist, and so her pussy was at the whim of the queen's searching tongue. Her legs shook uncontrollably as the queen set the bottle aside and braced the kobold with her hands, viciously tongue-fucking her. The sergeant screamed in pleasure.

"OH! My queen! I am unworthy!"

"Nonsense, my lovely!" replied Rubysnatch.

"You are my favorite little subject, and I love to see you happy!"

The queen spread her own thighs wide, singaling her own desire to be mounted by the male. The male did not need to be told what to do, but fell upon the monarch reverently and slid himself inside. Although the queen was much broader in the hips than her subjects, she was still extremely tight. And it was only after a few moments of patient churning, that the male was able to slide his whole length inside.

The queen moaned, and with every plunge of the male into her quivering sex, her tongue, involuntarily, surged up deeply into the Sergeant.

Claire was close enough to watch all this, and was impressed with the dragon's sensuousness. She wasn't the only one. The queen's lust was infectious to her subjects. The males who had been lavishing their attentions upon Claire ran their tongues on her neck and caressed her breasts with increasing need. And whether it was the influence of the queen, or the wine, or simply all the attention, Claire began to swoon and was fully consumed by the energy of the place.

But as the energies of the breeding pit increased, the first kobolds who fell upon her were peeled away by other kobold partners, or displaced by more eager males. And eventually, Claire found herself sandwiched between two bulkier specimens of the race.

The pit was a pulsing knot of bodies, and so even without conscious effort, the two males found themselves on either side of the goblin the same way waves will slap against each other in a choppy harbor. Claire never imagined she would feel small in the embrace of a kobold, but here she was; both males, broad-shouldered and about a head taller than she. There was a warm tingling in her chest as her full breasts pressed against the muscular torso of the male in front of her.

Even in the dark, she could sense his eyes widen, surprised at the decidedly non-reptilian form that fate had pinned to him.

"Oh, that's right," giggled Claire. "Your girls don't have these."

She rubbed her tits against him more and permitted him to explore them with his hands. The kobold to her rear had made similar discoveries as to Claire's being an outsider when he ran his claws through her coarse hair. Claire rolled her shoulders from the sensation of the claws running down the nape of her neck. She took his free hand in her own and guided it to play with her nipples, feeling the compact sinew of the arm as she did.

"Damn, I got two of the studs, didn't I?"

The pair of males did not understand the goblin; neither did she understand them when they chattered in their own dialect, the sound being somewhat like the tremelo of a poorly-tuned viola. But common speech was not necessary in the breeding pit where the shared language was lust.

The orgiastic sessions did, of course, fulfill a reproductive function for the tribe, but not exclusively; for here and there were many participants outside of their fertile years. There were also same-sex pairs, and of course, non-kobold outsiders such as Claire and Squall did occasionally manage to wander in, typically unaware of what awaited them, but other times, knowing full well.

Regardless, the locals didn't discriminate and, if anything, a strangers participation was the price of their intrusion. So whether a maid was goblin, or human, or anything else, the lusty males would eagerly spend themselves into her as they would any one of their own kind. And neither did the naughty kobold maids hesitate to try new kinds of lovers when given the opportunity, the bravest ones rolling their eyes back into their head as their little pussies stretched out as cocks as big as an ogre's.

Claire was still partially clothed when she felt one of the kobold males put his fingers into the waistband of her hose and begin to pull them down, struggling for a moment do get them around her big ass. Claire kicked her hose to the side, not considering how she might find them later, and raised her arms to allow the other kobold to pull the tunic up over her head.

From somewhere within the caves recesses, a current of air moved through the grotto and filled the space with a pleasant heat, drawn from the host of mating bodies. Claire stood between the two adoring males, shameless in her nakedness, though she would have never dreamed herself in the situation. There was something intoxicating about the place: the hiddeness of it, the readiness of all present.

And the many pleasured voices of the kobold females surrounding her held so many promises for Claire as to her own imminent pleasures. The lucky little bitches! How often did they get to do this?

The goblin maid reached down near the stomach of the male in front of her, eager to find what a kobold's manhood would feel like, and when her hand found what it had been seeking, she practically wet herself.

Even at the thinnest part, just beneath his barbed head, Claire found she could not meet her thumb and middle finger around the kobold's penis. It wasn't even close. She hastily reached back behind her to assess the other male. He was even bigger. Claire stood there in the dark, dumbfounded, a lizard cock in each hand as her heart pounded in time to the orgy happening all around her. She swallowed as her pussy alternated between clenching violently shut and then spasming open; her body possessed in equal parts by anxiety, and the eagerness to experience what would certainly be the most intense fuck of her life.

Claire's hands unconsciously felt up the dicks. Her thumb played with the barbed ridge of one, thinking about how it would catch her soft insides, the fleshy barbs interlock with the ridges of her own g-spot. No goblin dick could do that! She slowly slid her palm down the shaft, searching for the widest part, mentally prepping herself to accept just how much she was about to be opened up.

"Oh...GOD!"

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When the male fucking Queen Rubysnatch came, she rose and dispatched the small mob that was covering Squall. It was time for her to give this outsider just chastisement for his earlier impropriety. She was queen, after all, and demanded respect before her subjects. She shooed away the one squatting on his face and took her place.

The dragon's bottom came down and smothered everything from Squall's view. She wiggled back and forth, spreading her juices all over his face. But Squall had not submitted to pleasuring the earlier kobold, and he certainly would not give this creature the satisfaction of breaking his iron will! So, his tongue stayed firmly within his closed mouth.

The Queen rolled her eyes and sighed.

"He's being difficult. Sergeant, he's being difficult!"

The sergeant jumped up.

"PLEASURE THE QUEEN, KNAVE!" she squeaked and flicked him in the testicles with her middle finger.

Squall screamed a muffled protest beneath Rubysnatch's generous ass and thighs.

"You intrude upon the GREAT Kingdom of Deepbottom and don't even have the decency to lick the royal cunt??" raved the sergeant.

"You ingrate PEASANT! You welch! You perfectly ill-mannered-"

"Sergeant, that will do," said the queen, briefly lifting her hips to allow Squall a gasp of air.

"You've demonstrated your loyalty, yet again. Now come take your reward."

With that, she waggled Squall's dick back and forth between her index and ring fingers. Now you might think that, being a halfling, Squall was not particularly endowed. But both queen and sergeant were eager to try him, so his giant's heritage was certainly at play in this key area.

The sergeant jumped up with a yelp of excitement and the helmet fell forward over her eyes. She adjusted it back and leaped over, biting her index finger.

"Are you certain, my queen?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Of course, qergeant," said the queen, still playing her fingers on Squall's erect shaft. "But turn around, I would like to watch your ass this time."

The sergeant clapped her hands excitedly and lifted her tail high, allowing the queen to guide Squall's dick into her. The kobold put her hands flat on the ground and bent her knees, allowing Squall to sink completely into her with a single drop of her hips.

Squall moaned beneath the queen as the sergeant rose her hips again, with shuddering thighs that similarly shook the oversized plume. The kobold pussy was narrow, but deep, and squeezed on Squall like nothing her had ever felt.

It was clear that the Sergeant's enthusiasm for shouting abuse was matched by her vigor in the sexual act. Neither was she less noisy, although the insults were now replaced by a different king of screaming altogether.

"YES!!! THIS DICK IS EXTRAORDINARY! THANK YOU, MY QUEEN!"

"I think she likes you more than she was letting on," said the queen through her legs to the red-faced captive. "Maybe you know, kobolds do have a taste for human boys and girl. I suspect they get it from us dragons. Those stories where the hero has to rescue the princess? Yea... maybe it's just Swordsbend Syndrome, but those damsels-in-distress always turn out to be the horniest little things, and end up sitting on more than just the dragon's pile of gold."

"I'm not a hu-" Squall began, but the relentless talents of the sergeant's pussy prevented him from finishing the thought."

"Maybe," continued the queen. "I'll keep you here as one of my treasures. I'm sure the sergeant here wouldn't mind that one bit!"

The sergeant's hips spasmed and Squall felt a wet heat grow steadily from where he was enveloped as the kobold croaked out an orgasm.

"Look at her tight little ass go, human. Don't you think she's just terrific?"

She shifted her position, taking a knee, in order to play with herself, while the kobold continued to furiously ride Squall with much vocalization.

"You know," mused the queen. "Most kobolds are pretty shy by nature. That's why you don't see them outside of their dwellings much. And I think they wouldn't embrace their horniness as much either, if we dragons didn't so encourage it."

The thought was enticing to Rubysnatch and she began to rub herself more vigorously. A dribble of her honey-sweet pussy juice fell onto Squall's lips.

'_Aaah.._yes, I... I think it is our job to inspire it. When I first became queen of this territory the kobolds were quite shy. But they were all so cute! I wanted to fuck them all... but there are only so many pebbles in the hourglass. So, instead, I encourage them to fuck each other. And that's just as good.

"And then, because dragons live so much longer than kobolds, every once in a while, I find I have a whole new set of lovers to invite to bed. That, human, is my real treasure! Not a heap of gold or jewels. But an infinite supply of kobold dicks and pussies to make cum and make me cum, forever!"

The queen thrust her fingers into herself, just as the sergeant squatted down roughly, hitting Squall's dick into her deepest part. The queen squirted all over Squall's chest as he climaxed into the kobold's womb; and dragon, kobold, and human all came together.

????????????????????

In the end, Squall never did fuck the queen. She was clearly too much woman for him. However, because the presence of a part-halfling-part-giant (who did very much just resemble an average human guy) was too enticing for many of the kobold girls, Squall was subjected to an hours-long train of wet kobold pussy; more than anyone should have to endure, ever. It was completely unbearable, as you can imagine.

These were details that Squall omitted when he spoke about the kobolds' grotto later. Neither did Claire the goblin merchant ever have a sensible reason as to how she managed to lose a whole cart of wine on one of the safer roads in the empire. Although, her route later did include a stop-off in the kingdom of Deepbottom, despite her cousins in the family business often complaining that her sales in the underground kingdom did not anywhere near justify the amount of time she was spending there.

Yet, there was still a story for the bards to sing, about how Squall the Barbarian fought his way, more or less unscathed, through an army of kobolds. And how he just barely missed a dire fate at the hands of the dragon. And that is a happy ending. For, it is how a hero is remembered in song that is more important than what he actually gets up to.