Chapter 7: The Goblin King's Price
The throne room stank of old blood and older magic. Green firelight licked up the walls in slow, hungry pulses, illuminating the bones of a thousand failed challengers. Candice stood before the dais, her shoulder still weeping blood from the paladin's blade, her heart hammering against her ribs like a caged animal.
Morgana was beside her, silent, calculating—already three steps ahead, as always.
Thresh occupied his throne like a god of rot and ruin. Twelve feet of muscle and malice, his crimson eyes fixed on Candice with an intensity that made her skin crawl. His fingers—thick as tree roots, tipped with black claws—drummed against the armrest of blackened bone.
"I asked you a question, hero," he rumbled. "Show me your mark."
Candice's mouth went dry. Every instinct screamed at her to run—but where? The paladins were behind them. The forest was swarming with goblin scouts. There was no escape, only choices.
She looked at Morgana.
Morgana nodded.
Slowly, her hands trembling, Candice lifted the hem of her torn armor. The leather had split during the fight, barely covering her stomach now. She pulled it up, exposing the smooth plane of her belly—and there it was.
The mark of Lilith.
It glowed against her skin like a brand of living pink fire, intricate and terrible, a sigil that pulsed with each beat of her heart. The symbol of the Demon God of Succubi. The mark of everything she'd been raised to despise.
Thresh leaned forward, his massive body creaking like a mountain shifting. His eyes widened—not with surprise, but with recognition. With hunger.
"Perfect," he breathed. "Absolutely perfect."
Morgana moved before Candice could react. The witch pulled up her robe, revealing her own mark—smaller, messier, scarred around the edges from where she'd carved it herself years ago. It glowed too, but fainter, imperfect, a pale imitation of Candice's divine brand.
Thresh glanced at it, dismissed it, returned his gaze to Candice.
"I've been watching you," he said. "For weeks. Ever since you started glowing with that pretty pink light. I felt it—the demonic power blooming inside you like a poisoned flower. I know what you are, Candice Dixon. I know what you're becoming."
Candice's throat tightened. "And what's that?"
"A succubus mage." The words slithered from his mouth like oil. "A creature of lust and power. A whore blessed by a dead god."
"I'm not—"
"You are." Thresh rose from his throne.
The motion was slow, deliberate, and utterly terrifying. He kept rising, and rising, until he towered over them both—a wall of green muscle, his chest crisscrossed with scars, his arms thick as barrels. His cock hung between his legs, semi-erect, the size of Candice's forearm. The sight of it made her stomach clench.
"I can protect you from the paladins," he said. "My territory is vast. My soldiers are many. They won't dare follow you here."
"And the price?" Morgana asked, already knowing.
Thresh smiled—a horrible thing, full of jagged teeth.
"Both of you become my Goblin Whore Queens. For one year. You serve me and my elite warriors sexually, whenever and however we demand." He tilted his head. "In exchange, you live. You grow stronger. You become something more than you ever could have been alone."
Candice's vision swam. Whore Queen. The words echoed in her skull like a death sentence. She thought of her village—the people who'd cheered her name, who'd celebrated her victories, who'd turned on her in an instant. She thought of the paladins, their holy blades burning with righteous fire.
She thought of the mark on her stomach, pulsing with heat.
And she felt it—a dark, shameful thrill that curled through her guts like poison.
"I accept," Morgana said immediately.
Thresh's eyes remained on Candice.
"I—" Her voice cracked. "I need to think—"
"You don't have time to think." Thresh stepped down from the dais, each footfall shaking the floor. "The paladins are regrouping. They'll send more. They'll burn this forest to find you. Your only choice is whether you face them with my army at your back, or alone, with nothing but that pretty pink light."
Candice's chest heaved. Her mark burned hotter, hotter, until it felt like her skin might ignite. She could feel something writhing inside her—not her own will, but something older, something hungry.
Her inner slut.
The thought disgusted her. Aroused her. Both at once.
"I accept," she whispered.
Thresh's smile widened.
"Good."
He moved faster than anything that size had any right to move. His hand shot out, claws hooking into the shredded remains of her leather armor, and he tore it away like wet paper. The sound of it—the rip, the tear—was obscene. Her breasts spilled free, full and heaving, her nipples hardening instantly in the cold air.
"Thresh—" she started.
His other hand found Morgana's robe. One yank, and it was gone, revealing the witch in all her glory—voluptuous curves, full breasts, the mark on her stomach glowing softly.
"On your knees," the Goblin King commanded.
Morgana dropped immediately, her knees hitting the stone floor with a crack. She looked up at Thresh's towering form, at the massive green cock now fully erect and throbbing, and licked her lips.
Candice remained standing.
"Candice," Morgana said softly. "Please."
"I—"
"Trust me."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Trust me. She'd already trusted Morgana, and look where it had gotten her—kneeling in a goblin's throne room, about to become a whore. But the alternative was worse.
She knelt.
Thresh's cock was a monstrosity. Thick as her wrist, long enough to choke her, with veins that pulsed with dark blood. The head was broad and blunt, already leaking precum that glistened in the firelight.
"Suck it," Thresh growled. "Both of you. Show me what my new queens can do."
Morgana moved first, her purple eyes gleaming with something that might have been excitement. She leaned forward, her tongue flicking out to lap at the head of his cock, gathering the precum, moaning softly at the taste.
"Delicious," she murmured. "Candice, come here. Taste him."
"I can't—"
"You can. Open your mouth."
Candice's heart pounded. Her mark throbbed. Her pussy clenched around nothing, already wet and aching. She hated herself for it.
She leaned forward.
The smell hit her first—musky, primal, utterly male. It filled her nostrils, her lungs, her brain. She felt dizzy.
Then Morgana took the head into her mouth, and Candice watched, transfixed, as the witch's purple lips stretched around that massive cock. Morgana bobbed her head slowly, taking him deeper, her throat working to accommodate his girth.
"Good girl," Thresh rumbled. "Now the other one."
His hand moved faster than thought, fingers tangling in Candice's short black hair. He yanked her forward, positioning her mouth at the base of his cock, where Morgana's lips couldn't reach.
"Lick," he commanded. "Lick my balls. Show me you want this."
"I don't—"
His grip tightened. Hair tore. She yelped in pain.
"I said lick."
She obeyed.
Her tongue dragged along the loose skin of his sac, over the thick balls beneath, tasting salt and sweat and something darker. The musk was overwhelming. Her eyes watered. Her mark flared bright pink, visible even through her closed eyelids.
Morgana pulled back, gasping, her chin slick with saliva. "That's it, Candice. Use your tongue. Make him feel good."
"I hate you," Candice whispered.
"No, you don't." Morgana smiled. "You hate that you love this."
Thresh laughed—a deep, cruel sound. He grabbed Morgana by the hair and shoved her back onto his cock, all the way down in one brutal thrust. The witch gagged, her throat bulging, but she didn't pull away. She stayed there, breathing through her nose, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Now you," Thresh said to Candice.
He pulled Morgana off by her hair—she gasped for air, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his cock—and directed Candice to the head.
"Open."
She opened.
He shoved inside.
The taste hit her like a wave—bitter, salty, overwhelming. Her jaw ached immediately, struggling to accommodate his girth. She felt her throat spasm, her gag reflex triggering, and she pulled back on instinct.
Thresh didn't let her. His hand pressed against the back of her skull, holding her in place.
"Take it," he growled. "All of it."
She choked. She couldn't breathe. Her pink mana flared around her body, desperate, helpless—a light show with no purpose. She felt her lips stretched wide, jaw dislocated, throat full. Every time he moved his hips, his cock went deeper, until she could feel the head pressing against her gullet.
"That's a good whore," Thresh moaned. "Take it. Fucking take it."
He fucked her face.
Slow at first, letting her feel every inch, every vein. Then faster, harder, until her eyes were streaming and her lungs were burning and her whole world had narrowed to the cock in her mouth.
Morgana moved beside her, not idle. The witch crawled behind Thresh, her hands tracing the thick muscles of his back and thighs, her lips pressing kisses to his scarred green skin. She knew how to please a monster—years of practice, years of study.
"Use your tongue," Morgana whispered in Candice's ear. "Trace the vein on the underside. That's what he likes."
Candice couldn't respond—her mouth was full—but she tried. She dragged her tongue along the pulsing vein, felt Thresh's hips stutter, heard his deep, guttural groan.
"Better," he rumbled. "Much better."
He pulled out.
Candice gasped, air flooding her lungs, drool dripping from her lips. Before she could recover, Thresh grabbed Morgana by the waist and bent her over the arm of his throne.
"You first," he said. "The other one can watch."
Morgana's legs spread willingly. Her cunt was already wet, dripping down her thighs, the mark on her stomach pulsing with arousal. She looked back over her shoulder, her purple eyes meeting Candice's.
"Watch," she said. "Learn."
Thresh positioned himself behind her. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance—only the head, and it already looked impossibly large.
Then he thrust.
Morgana screamed—not in pain, but in something that sounded dangerously close to ecstasy. Her body arched, her fingers clawing at the throne's armrest, her breasts swaying with each brutal thrust.
"FUCK!" she shrieked. "Yes! Harder!"
Thresh obliged.
He pounded into her without mercy, each thrust shaking the throne, each impact echoing through the cavern. His massive balls slapped against Morgana's thighs. Her cunt stretched obscenely around his girth, gripping him, milking him.
"Watch," Morgana gasped, her eyes finding Candice's. "Watch how—how a real whore takes it—"
Candice watched.
Her mouth hung open. Her cunt throbbed. Her mark burned.
And she couldn't look away.
Thresh fucked Morgana for what felt like hours—or maybe it was only minutes, time distorted by the firelight and the sounds and the smell of sex filling the air. Morgana came twice, screaming both times, her juices running down her legs and dripping onto the stone floor.
Then Thresh pulled out.
Morgana collapsed, gasping, her body trembling with aftershocks.
Candice was still on her knees.
"Your turn," Thresh said.
He yanked Candice up by her hair, bent her over the throne beside Morgana. The cold stone bit into her stomach. Her body was trembling—from fear, from arousal, from the unbearable heat of her mark.
"I'm going to fuck you now," Thresh said. "And you're going to take it. Like the whore you are."
"I'm not—"
His cock pressed against her entrance.
She was so wet. So impossibly, shamefully wet.
"You're dripping," Thresh observed. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mouth says otherwise."
"Fuck you," she hissed.
He laughed. "Maybe later."
Then he thrust inside her.
Candice screamed.
The pain was immediate and overwhelming—he was too big, too thick, splitting her open like a butcher's knife. She felt her cunt stretch to its limit, felt him fill every inch of her, felt the head of his cock press against her cervix.
But beneath the pain—beneath the tearing, searing agony—there was pleasure. More than she'd ever felt in her life. Her mark blazed, pink light flooding the cavern, and she came instantly, violently, her whole body convulsing around him.
Thresh didn't pause.
He fucked her through the orgasm, his rhythm relentless, his grip on her hips bruising. Each thrust sent her higher, until she was coming again, and again, her screams echoing off the cavern walls.
"SEE?" Thresh bellowed. "SEE WHAT YOU ARE? A WHORE! A SLUT! A COCK-HUNGRY LITTLE—"
His words dissolved into a roar.
His cock swelled inside her. She felt it—a massive, pulsing heat—and then he was coming, flooding her cunt with thick goblin seed. The warmth spread through her, filling her, and her mark blazed brighter than ever before.
She came again.
When Thresh finally pulled out, Candice collapsed. Her legs wouldn't hold her. Her vision was swimming. She could feel his seed dripping from her cunt, running down her thighs, pooling on the floor.
And she could feel something else—power. Her mana reserves had swollen, pressing against the limits of her level. She'd grown stronger. Just from this. Just from being used.
Morgana crawled over to her, still trembling, still glowing.
"Told you," she whispered. "You'd like it."
"I hate you," Candice said. But there was no venom in it.
Thresh returned to his throne, his cock still glistening with their juices. He sat down, surveyed them both, and smiled.
"The pact is sealed," he said. "You are now my Goblin Whore Queens. For one year, your bodies belong to me and my warriors."