The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Special thanks to Vanderbilt for letting me use her Goblins universe.

And Then There Were Goblins

Chapter 10

The New Queen lay, feigning unconsciousness, one eye open just a sliver, and watched The Old One. She had put the gas mask back on—that would make the dance more difficult, but not impossible. The New Queen had moves that no gas mask could defend against.

Beatrice had noticed the New Queen eyeing her off earlier. At first she’d tried to stare her down, but as soon as she’d made eye contact with the New Queen’s, she’d started thinking about what Drew had said earlier. Her eyes were different—not just different to a typical goblin’s milky-white blankness, but different to human eyes as well. The black seemed…deeper, somehow. More intense. Or perhaps it was the iris, there was something about the specks of colour that wasn’t quite right...

She’d only been staring into them for a few seconds, trying to spot what made them different, when Vernita had ordered her to retreat. Beatrice had looked up to discover herself in the midst of a firefight, goblins dying to the right and left of her. Her military training snapped into action, and within seconds she was dragging Drew and the New Queen away from the action.

Now here she was, alone with the New Queen.

Bea had killed more goblins than she could count—she’d captured them and brought them back to base for research, she’d slaughtered them…one of her early missions had specifically required her squad to torture a group of goblins, to see if that made attacking a Queen from another angle any easier.

During the course of her duty, she’d been exposed to the goblin’s musk again and again and again. She’d probably slept with half of the human army by this point, but those passionate post-battle encounters were nothing compared to the true heat of being surrounded by musk, the arousal felt while staring at a scaly goblin, watching their breasts heave, staring into their empty white eyes, breathing in their scent, wanting to throw yourself at them, surrender to their touch…

But in all her years of battling goblins and her own desires, she’d never had much admiration for them outside of a fight. She didn’t keep track of the exact numbers, but Beatrice was extremely proud that after more than one thousand battles, she’d never given into her desires, and only once been in serious danger of being turned.

The New Queen, however…she was different, somehow. Beatrice picked her up; compared to the heavy packs Bea was used to lugging around, the goblin weighed practically nothing.

There was something strangely tempting about the New Queen’s tight skin, showcasing the veins that ran through her small breasts. Never before had the lesions that covered their skin been so alluring—Bea wondered what they’d taste like. Would they resemble her comrade’s scars, the scars that Bea had tasted so many times before, or would they have their own, unique, sweet flavour. Bea had a strange compulsion to lick them, nibble on the colored wounds. Perhaps she’d start on the lesions, follow them along the goblin’s arms until she reached her round breasts...

The New Queen seized the opportunity to strike—while The Old One was distracted with her breasts, staring at her hard nipples, she opened her eyes and spat.

A large glob of spit landed on Bea’s neck, stunning her. No one had ever seen a Queen spit before. She could feel it slowly slide down, past her collar, past her tank top…she could feel as the drop of saliva got into her bra and somehow split into two, each half gliding onto a nipple, where they settled, sending strange jolts of excitement straight to her brain...

Beatrice had no idea what a Queen’s saliva would do to her, but she suspected that it wasn’t good. She dropped the New Queen, and tore her shirt off as quickly as she could. Before she could get her singlet off as well, she noticed that unconsciousness wasn’t the only thing that the goblin had been faking—the New Queen stood in front of her, hands untied, those big eyes staring straight at her.

The New Queen’s lips spread in a grin. One-on-one, at last. Before she had been given the honour of being Queened, back when she was simply Uma the Goblin, she’d never had a chance to turn a human. But she remembered it from her previous life, when she herself had been turned, had been lucky enough to feel the touch of a goblin, feel their kiss, feel the last of her former self drain away…

She’d been looking forward to sharing that joy with a human since she was born, but Uma had been one of the last humans in Denver to be turned. Even when she had been made royalty she didn’t think the opportunity would arise—Queens will typically have thousands upon thousands of servants to do their fighting for them; there’s no need for that group to overlap with their sexual slaves.

But the unusual circumstances that she found herself in gave the New Queen a unique chance to use her special talents. One-on-one…the dance could go either way. Beatrice was larger and more experienced, but the New Queen had more than a few tricks up her proverbial sleeve.

The New Queen leapt; in one swift movement, she rebounded off the wall behind Beatrice and latched onto her back. Bea did all that she could to shake her off, but the saliva that she could still feel on her breast was fogging her brain, filling her with a slow, sleepy arousal…

It was new. Different. It wasn’t the quick rush of desire that was caused by the goblin’s musk. Beatrice was struggling to think; she seemed to be moving more slowly, it was taking longer for her limbs to react to the commands her brain was firing at them. Fortunately, her years of training had caused many of her actions in combat to be purely instinctive—even as her conscious mind was wondering what it would feel like if she shimmied, tried to coerce the saliva down to her rapidly moistening pussy, her hands were reaching around and trying to dislodge the New Queen.

The New Queen leant into Bea’s ear, and whispered.

“It’s time, little sexy. Time to stop fighting. Relax, little sexy, and come home with me...”

Beatrice knew what was on the line. If she was turned, she would be a pawn of the New Queen, unable to resist telling her all of her secrets, all of the troops secrets. Everything she knew about the plan, the location of the chopper…everything she knew about Drew, about Cameron’s arsenal, about Vernita’s strengths and weaknesses…everything she knew would be given to the enemy. Not slowly coerced, not forced out piece-by-piece over months, given immediately and willingly.

Everything she knew, the New Queen would be able to use to her advantage.

She fought through the fog, tried to ignore the distraction of the New Queen’s words, floating into her brain like silk. She grit her teeth and told herself that she wouldn’t let the arousal coming from the saliva on her breasts alter her judgement or weaken her. The troop was counting on her. She wouldn’t be the weak link. She wouldn’t give up to the voice in her ear telling her to give up.

“It will be so easy, little sexy. No more combat, no more battles. No more resisting your desires…let me free you, little sexy. Become what you’ve always wanted. Let me make you mine.”

Beatrice threw her elbow back with all her strength, and was simultaneously satisfied and dismayed when she felt it connect with the New Queen’s leg. The force of the blow caused the goblin to lose her grip and fall back onto the ground. Beatrice spun, trying to spot the small creature before it could latch onto her again. She cursed the lack of peripheral vision her gas mask gave her, but knew that removing it would end the battle that much faster…as it was, the confined space’s lack of airflow meant that there was already a risk of the musk infiltrating her defences, infiltrating her mind…

Despite not being able to see her enemy, she could still hear her words echo around the small chamber.

“I can feel your beauty, little sexy. Let me taste your succulence. Stop the fighting, my sweet. I feel your heart, I know what you want. I feel your heat. Come to me, little sexy. Be mine. Be my slave.”

The word slave wormed its way into Beatrice’s mind, adding to the distractions she was facing. Suddenly her head was full the image of herself as a slave to the New Queen…kneeling in front of her, tasting her pussy…worshipping her, serving her in every way she could. She would look up at her Queen, her eyes would fill her world, her eyes would be all that Bea could see…