Horny Cloister of Cstabath

Horny Cloister of Cstabath

With a slam and a hum of wards activating, the glass door disappeared behind an illusion of mountains, sealing me in a fake valley of clay-huts and bamboo inhabited by a tribe of elaborately tattooed curvy green short stacks and female cattle slaves. Slaves, who were apparently being sacrificed as part of whatever insane agreement had led to the researchers housing a full goblin tribe inside their monster-pregnancy research facility.

“Be many greetings, offering. What Word of Calling does offering have?”

Blinking, I nearly jolted at the realization that the jewelry clad shamaness Hupath was talking to me, and addressing me as if I wasn’t a swollen and heavily marked breeding slave currently a slave dressed in little else than durlatex lingerie and a pair of black cuffs on my wrists.

“Uh... Ah...”

“Uh’Ah.” Hupath nodded sagely, continuing in an almost grandmotherly tone, as much as that was possible for a half-naked goblin. “Be many greetings, Uh’Ah, slave of the One Who Created Sky and Walls. And be many welcomes, to the Cstabath, who in human tongues is Sacred Sisterhood of Dick Who Devours.”

My mouth opened, befuddlement stilling my tongue.

“Yes, be many amazed!” Hupath spread her arms wide, lifting those layers of native bling high enough to reveal bits of areola of the deepest darkest green. “Abath—Dick Who Devours biggest of Great Big Ones. Be happy, Uh’Ah, to learn ways of Cstabath and become bestest sacrifice. But be determined also. Many tests await slave who want to be sacrifice. Many trials. Much training. Biggest journey of Uh’Ah’s life ahead of her now, but be not fear. Me, Hupath and sisters of Cstabath here to help and guide Uh’Ah to prepare.”

My permanently lust-hazy brain got stuck waiting for an order to obey, so I didn’t understand her silence as a cue to talk until well after it had stretched into awkwardness. “T-thanks?” I tried.

Hupath’s grin widened. That glint of sharp teeth sent a throb of dread through my venom addled instincts, telling me I was prey and hers to use.

“I’m happy to serve you,” I added and felt my thoughts melt at the admittance of the eager truth already smoldering against the overly tight rubber of my black panties. “...Mistress Hupath.”

“No! No!” Hupath scowled gestured in aggressive refusal, causing my heart to skip a scared beat. “Me not be Mistress or Mastress. All be servants or slaves of Abath. Me shamaness be only first servant. Slaves call me, Shamaness.”

“I’m sorry, Shamaness,” I bowed.

“No! No!” Shamaness growled. “No slave be bowing! On knees. On knees!”

I knelt in a flash and she looped a finger through my choker’s link to push my head lower still all of a sudden my face was pressed against ten inches of intensely musky slab of girldick encircled by golden tribal tattoos. Arousal stirred a purr of a moan from my throat. Completely enchanted by the cock, my mind drew a blank.

“Be listen well, Uh’Ah. Slaves not apologizing with words, but instead— Ngh!”

All ten inches of her had slipped down my throat before I’d had time to even enjoy her taste. Whoops! Instinct, harsh training, chemically induced hyper-awareness of my body, and irredeemably perverted nature guided my tongue and mouth around her girth, finding her favored spots as smoothly as the goblin’s own masturbating hands would after a long day of non-stop arousal. Moaning against her cock, I closed my eyes and savored her sounds pleasure. tuning into every little gasp and twitch of erect flesh. Soaked in my now aphrodisiac spit, her cock pulsed against the walls of my throat, close to cumming. The only reason my own pants weren’t yet creamed with girl-cum for serving her was that insidious little hum of the climax inhibitor that the doctor had installed in me. I pulled her deeper, sucking hard, and-

A small goblin hand pulled me off by the collar and tossed me on my back. “No not good!”

I gasped cockless air and stared at her in shock. “Not...” I stuttered, “You didn’t... But?”

I bit down a whimper of frustration. Dumb! You could’ve been cumming your brains out!

“Uh’Ah, me asks,” Shamaness continued, “What other curses does offering Uh’Ah bear?”

“Well, um...” So I gave her the list: Voidbee venom and honey that gave me a fear kink, a chemically enforced prey kink, magically sensitized and enlarged nipples and clit, hyper awareness of the senses that slowed my perception of time when feeling pain or pleasure, arcane tattoos of unknown meaning all over my body, aphrodisiac body fluids, a climax inhibitor to make sure I don’t cum spontaneously from the perma-arousal I was in, multifunctional torture piercings, and the geas chip for manual orgasm triggering and denial.

Shamaness nodded sagely. “Hm. Hm. Me understand. Middle of the brood, if compared to other offerings. Not problem! Some helpful for learning worship of Abath. Me knows how Uh’Ah path to being sacrifice can now begins.”

“O-oh?” I licked my lips, eager in every way a horny girl high on her own aphrodisiac juices can be.

“Come. Come!” Shamaness urged, tugging my collar excitedly.

So yeah, my legs noodled up and my brain went blank as I let out some hot wet moans right there in the middle of goblin-town.

We did move along eventually, to the edge of the village. Behind a huge clay hut, that by the sound of it contained like ten orgies, was a stretch of dried mud. The place was littered with giant stone totems depicting cute goblin faces in different stages of orgasm. Chained to the earrings and nose-piercings of the giant stone faces were female cattle, or offerings as Shamaness liked to call us. One per each totem.

Interestingly enough, the only bondage they were in was the collar built into our black durlatex suits, and the locks used to attach them to the totems. Meaning, their hands were free. Three girls withdrew their gloved fingers from their pussies and assholes. One brazen soul, bless her, continued to shlick like there was no tomorrow. But those four were the minority.

The rest of them had their eyes glued to Shamaness’ prodigious cock, which, granted, was worth pining after. However, instead of starting to fap at the sight like any normal horny degenerate in their position would, these gals began bending over and displaying their holes, shifting from one pose of naughty invitation to another in slow, almost dance-like motions. Even more baffling was the yelp of shame one girl let out after brushing her own nipple.

Shamaness gave those presenting themselves approving looks. “Good. Good offerings be learning. Be welcoming new offering Uh’Ah to Garden Of Joyful Faces!”

Everyone but the furious fapper said their welcomes.

“This way, Uh’Ah.” Shamaness tugged my collar and led me to an uninhabited totem pole. She grabbed two meters of chain hanging from the lip of a gigantic ahegao goblin-face and, with a rusty click of a lock, shackled my rubbery collar to it. Then, for the first time in months, cuffs came off my wrists and I found my limbs free.

It made me feel oddly naked and confused, like I’d been set adrift without a map. I shifted from foot to foot under Shamaness’ gaze, not sure how to hold my arms.

“Now, Uh’Ah. Lesson first for becoming sacrifice. Flesh and orgasm be an illusion. We be mere vessels to serve pleasure to Abath. All pleasure be his gift. And to earn ultimate gift of Abath’s seed, we must learn to sacrifice own pleasure. Sacrifice must learn to present to the sisters. Must learn to entice sisters. And must learn to refuse sisters’ offering to ease the horny. Only then, after ten nights sacrifice has resisted offers to take cock, can sacrifice be ready. Now best luck, Uh’Ah, in journey of rebirth through mercy of Abath.”

“Thank you Shamaness,” I bowed. Oki doki, this one was gonna be a walk in the park. Self enforced pleasure denial? Pfft, bitch please, you're talking to the reigning expert of perverted life decisions.

Five seconds later, I was on my back, suckling on my pierced nipple, four knuckles deep in my anus, and wrist-deep in my own pussy. Five minutes later, I was on my tenth orgasm. Five hours later, I and the second last offering (a thick blue drae if you were wondering) had our chains pulled taut to swap sloppy lust-fueled kisses, while fingerbanging each other. Five days later, I was starting to realize that I’d not stop masturbating or groping my fellow drae offering, renamed by Shamaness as ‘Greetings’, for more than the five minutes it took me to eat and take care of business. Five weeks later, I was beginning to come to a realization.

“Shit,” I said after waking up to find I’d kept fapping through the night. “I might have self control issues.”