Chapter 20: 20 An overlord is born. (NSFW)

Gube.

Darkness had long descended across the land, the silvery glow of the heaven-lit great roots of the Lacunae showering the world in a dim cool glow.

Gube found her eyes fluttering open, mind groggy, every single muscle in her body aching with a radiant joy that saw her sighing with detached relief.

She had needed this… oh goddess, how she'd needed it!

Idly, she reached down, fingers entering the yet fluttering cave of her sex, still trying to close and rediscover its shape. She moaned, scooping a clawful of syrupy cum, bringing it to her lips and nursing on each finger in turn.

It was sort of sweet, oddly enough, not severely so, but subtle, like a blueberry, only less fruity and more mildly tart?

And thick…

She grinned, yawning languidly as she was brought back to the water, the tendrils holding her weight hesitating for a brief pause before moving her much further away, gently lowering her into the pool as a dark breeder bopped affectionately at her nose.

Then they were gone, and Gube knew their time was over—for now.

She took over once placed back in the water, tired muscles finding their second wind as she waded in the pool, simply swimming where she was.

In truth, she'd loved to keep the yet thick and sticky essence of her goddess right where it was, coating her face and hair to the point she was practically slathered in it, yet she had a job to do.

Sadly, arriving back at the cave looking like she'd just been attacked by a legion of purple snails was not in the description.

She bathed herself, cleaning her body in the water, washing her hair and privates, disappointed but, unable to really complain. She'd been shown a glimpse of infinity itself, tended to like never before in her life…

Orgasms were something most goblins never really experienced during breeding sessions, at least, not for the women, but with her goddess? Why, they hadn't stopped!

Normally, it was often up to themselves to finish the job when trying for a litter, a sentiment her goddess seemed wholeheartedly to disdain.

Gube had been worshiped…

A strange feeling, to be sure, but she’d been shown a level of dedication and affection that mirrored her own. It was something ‘beyond’ gratifying to understand just how much one was appreciated, just how deeply her love was reciprocated in turn.

Yet, perhaps inevitably, as all good things did, the fun had ended.

She'd lost the day, her entire afternoon and night—surrendered, as it had been, to carnal rutting that had left her shaky-legged and blissfully sore.

But, at the same time, she was relaxed… Every tidbit of tension just fading away…

Her goddess had been ruthless as she was rough, but Gube had almost wished she'd been heavier with her hand…

Nothing against the tender moments they'd shared, but few things really got her going like a little earnest wrestling!

She glanced at her status window as she cleansed herself, noting the new entry and reading it with care.

Overlord…

Well, it was official. Gube belonged to her goddess, mind, body and soul… and in turn, she was her lady's sole authority. Her right hand, the first among all those blessed by her radiance.

Gube grinned.

In truth, this was more than she'd ever wanted, more than she could have ever asked for. The trust, the power…

Gube had been given a purpose, and now, both she and her goddess shared one more thing as well. A mutual ‘goal’, the failure of which rested above their necks like a gleaming blade.

She rose, stepping from the pool with long confident strides, her gaze glancing towards a cross-legged Itch who observed her from the gloom of a tree.

Chips and slivers of wood surrounded the woman, a small panoply of flint tools all scattered about her, all while the older woman eyed her with an inquisitive expression.

"You watch?" Gube asked, a hand upon a cocked hip, seed yet leaking between her legs, the substance continuing to drip down her thigh no matter how many times she washed it away.

“Was beautiful… looked fun…” Itch nodded, putting down the haft of another spear to talk.

"Want taste?" She asked again, widening her legs as the older goblin's eyes fixated upon the slowly descending essence.

"...If let," Itch shrugged, earning her a contemplative look from the younger Eldritch goblin, who nodded, moving towards her.

Gube grasped a handful of the older woman's hair, forcing her face between her legs as Gube directed her with a single command. "Lick."

After a pause, the other priestess did so, Gube feeling her long tongue slide up her inner thigh before exploring her yet wide and shuddering entrance, allowing her to collect the combined fluids of her and her goddess's love before tugging her head away, looking at the smeared and defiled face of the older priestess who appeared—demure but interested.

"You mine, I goddesses. You do as I say, understood?"

Itch just licked her lips, nodding slowly before Gube released her head, not leaving from her looming stance above the other woman, crowding her personal space with her nethers, staring into her eyes until she looked away.

"How taste?" Gube asked a moment later, her point made and her mind already moving on towards a dilemma that had been bothering her for some time.

"Good…" Itch mused, smacking her lips in thought. “Better than should, sweet, touch bitter, not berry but close…”

"Thought the same thing." Both goblins nodded at that, Gube turning away and looking at the lake, which from her revised angle, looked somewhat odd. "Lake look ‘darker’ than should be over there?"

"Is."

"Why?"

Itch shrugged, picking up her gear and standing herself. "Goddess, probably. Started spreading where purple cum drop like waterfall into lake. Been growing larger ever since. New spot over where she put you down. Twice as big as it was already when you got out."

Gube considered the water for a moment; her goddess did seem to be somewhat... well, insatiable…

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Her mind wondered about the curious purple hue that was spreading across the surface before her thoughts drifted again, shifting to what was to come.

Regardless of what it was, it wasn't really ‘her’ problem...

The two women arrived at the camp a time later, most if not all of the cavern already asleep. The old watchman, who was forever awake, greeted them with a grunt. Gube looked at the man, expression calculating before she strode up to him, crossing her arms as she towered over the old goblin, face to chest.

"Kneel and kiss feet if want blessing," Gube intoned, her voice as cold and severe as a driving glacier.

Swift-spear wavered, looking up at her expectant gaze before coughing, glancing towards the other priestess, as though looking for some answer that wasn't forthcoming.

After a moment, he sighed, nodded, and seemed to make his decision as he lowered himself to hands and knees. She felt his lips upon her toes a moment later, lingering for a second or two longer than likely necessary, perhaps even feeling a little tongue roll over her though she didn't pull away.

"Swear oath to dark lady, loyalty, life, soul."

Again, the old warrior hesitated, peeking back up before draping his head again.

"Swear… life, loyalty, soul, all for dark lady…"

"Good!" Gube smiled, pushing the old goblin upright with her heel. "Where you want it? Mouth or arse?"

Behind them, Itch cackled with delight as Swift-spear, uncertain in his own decision, opened his mouth to protest, considered it, then kept it open while closing his eyes, looking for all the world like he was fighting back against every instinct he had.

Gube didn't even smile; she simply forced a palm against his face before a tendril ‘burrowed’ into his throat.

Swift-spear.

Swift-spear hacked as he felt a lungful of something thick discharge from his mouth, gnashing his teeth and wiping away the clinging substance from his face with a boiling sense of violated fury that rose in his gut like a furious grizzly!

He seethed as he rose back from the ground, never having been treated so… so—what?

Abruptly stilling, eyes losing that brief flash of anger, ichor still stretching across his face, his eyes fixated upon the strangest of anomalies.

A box had appeared in his sightline.

Not a physical manifestation, not something he could reach out and touch, but more like a hallucination after a long battle where he stumbled away, right on the brink of death.

A ‘creature’ of dark grey skin was kneeling in the window, numbers denoting—what he was good at?

No, they were all—hmmm…

He frowned, losing interest in everything else around him, focusing on the odd symbols as his mind began to churn like it never had before!

Three in strength, six in physique, two in finesse, two in intelligence, another three in wisdom, zero in charisma, and nothing in luck…

They were ‘him’, he knew it in a way that was almost instinctual, though he didn't know ‘why’ he knew it.

Yet, that uncertainty made him no less confident of the suspicion as truth!

Confused, he stared at a face that could hardly be considered a day past its prime, jaw firm and robust, chin large and dimpled. Features carved as though from ivory itself… A body firm and tight with corded muscle and veins.

He looked up, noticing how the figure in his vision did the same, eyes locking onto the ruthless dispassion of the young woman still standing above him, her hand rising to fold over her stomach, even as a gleaming tendril slid away back into her hand, expression clinically curious.

He looked back down, looked at his fingers, saw their shade, the claws, looked at the priestess's toes, the same obsidian talons staring him in the face!

He wiggled each finger, testing them, feeling the power as knuckles popped, and he rose, standing near the height of the woman who'd changed him, head reaching her chin.

He grinned, darting down for his spear and bouncing away! Twirling it and flourishing the tip as he danced and spun, fighting off a phantom army of foes that he bisected with each burring motion of his chosen weapon before hurling it like a bolt of lightning towards a tree!

Swift-spear heard the meaty thunk of punctured timber as he breathed, taking in the cool night air as though it were his first breath after his other hand squeezed the mighty sword dangling between his legs.

Swift-spear felt strong…

"Made you little better than should have," Gube, lazily denoted, watching with careful interest. "Asked dark lady to add extra into physique for ‘test’. How feel?"

"I feel young again!" Swift-spear roared, reaching down with both hands now to fully take hold of the wyvern guarding his family jewels and jerk it, marveling at its rising girth and length as he laughed!

"How young? And how old were you before?"

The man paused in his merrymaking, turning with an earnestly troubled look, though his hand never stopped pumping his dick. I-it had been quite a long time since he'd gotten this hard, and he wasn't eagre to give it up!

"Ugh… Says so in ‘status’ window, stupid boob!"

Swift-spear merely grinned. He was flying too high to fall now. And after feeling what the goddess had done to him? Ha! The priestess could kill his firstborn son and he would merely smile and encourage her to take the second. After all, with a might dragon like he now had, Swift-spear could sire hundreds of brats! What was one or two of them in the grand scheme of things?

"Says thirty-eight, feels like it should be more…"

"Really? That old?"

"Truth," Swift-spear nodded, stretching and flexing every muscle he could remember.

"Look ‘good’ now…" Itch observed, biting at her lower lip…

"Want to try out new dangling bits?" He grinned, pumping himself toward the priestess in question, who struggled to really say much of anything as she stared.

"Go ahead, have fun," Gube sighed, both goblins' eyes brightening as she offered her consent. "Try to make baby as much as want, Gube want to ‘know’ if they come crawling out gob or us."

Both the older goblins looked at her a moment, strange emotions warring across their face as the high priestess proposed a concept that was intriguing as it was filled with the possibility of change.

However, after a few seconds, the two Eldritch goblins practically tackled each other, tearing and grunting as they wrestled, Gube simply shaking her head as she turned to let them have their privacy.

"Idea worked dark one… All ideas… Any luck, Itch get pregnant and we see if we make more the natural way. Also, not telling shaman ‘mouth’ is an option. Going to shove foot up his rear and teach him who ‘really’ in charge."

Gube got no semblance of a reply, but that was okay. She knew her goddess was hurting for power, expending so much of it so recently. Just talking and knowing she was listening was good enough until she really needed to communicate as she had.

After all, Gube knew what had to be done and wouldn't need any reminders.

She entered the cave and immediately started screaming, her voice booming through the cavern loud enough to wake the dead.

"Get up! All goblins! Priestesses, bring everyone before bonfire, shaman!" She roared, gaze roaming over to the man in question who stirred, scratching his ass and peering her way. "Light flames, we begin ‘large’ ceremony.”

It took some time for the bleary and weary-eyed to assemble, all looking confused as Gube stood with crossed arms, staring out over the crowd.

"Only one more goblin to be made as us," she proclaimed, gesturing to her fellow sisters with an arm. "The rest receive gifts, but no transformation! That will be earned as ‘privilege’ and reward later!" She turned, pointing at the shaman who was watching her carefully. "Old man, come, ‘accept’ the goddess's blessing."

Frowning, the old sorcerer hesitantly approached, licking his lips with nervous energy before stopping to stand hunched before the high priestess.

"Kneel and present ass," she hissed, grinning widely as the man's eyes bugged, his form looking about ready to try and dart away, head shaking before he abruptly screeched like a dying animal! His body falling to its knees as dark whisps of magic seemed to burn him from the inside out.

Gube pushed the spellcaster sideways, rolling him over with her shin before stomping between his cheeks, summoning the thickest tentacle she thought she could get away with, then, she shoved it violently inwards.

The shaman's howling only grew insensate as she molded the appendage, adding lumps and ridges, lifting her foot before slamming it back down over and over again.

She took ‘vile’ satisfaction in the way his body stopped moving after she'd spent some time ‘breaking him’, finishing her work once he'd quieted and kicking him aside afterwards, watching as smoke began sizzling in a ring upon his back.

After, Gube regarded her work with lighthearted satisfaction. Though she pointedly ignored the blood around her now coating her foot.

"Only one like that," she announced to the horrified onlookers. "Promise."