Chapter Text
Ordinarily, seeing Bog was Marianne’s number one aim for coming to the Dark Forest. However, on this particular day, she had an important task to preform, one that needed assistance of a more feminine kind:
“Okay, so what exactly does your sister want these to look like?”
Marianne fished her sample out of her tote and held it up for inspection.
“She wants four hundred of those little scrolls in cream parchment, tied in a butterfly bow with powder-blue ribbon, and each with a single dandelion head inserted through the knot.”
“Very cute. I like her style.”
“Yeah, she’d always had a great eye for stuff like this. Anyway, I’ve already got everything copied on the papers.” She gestured to the three separate supply piles on the table in front of them. “All we have to do is assemble them and then I’ll send them out first thing tomorrow.”
“Well then,” six goblin fingers locked and cracked in preparation, “let’s get to it!”
Sunny had proposed to Dawn two days ago and everyone was beyond overjoyed for the couple.
Marianne’s first job, as the maid of honor, was to construct the wedding announcements. So who better to assist her still-decoratively-challenged-self than the goblin woman who had turned a rustic dining room into Cupid’s breakfast nook in two minutes?
Yep, Griselda was the main reason for Marianne’s visit today.
Not that that was a bad thing, really. More and more (when she wasn’t hinting about marriage and grandbabies) Marianne found that the old mother was growing on her. She had lots of great stories about Bog as a child and of her life as queen of this shadowy, rough-and-tumble realm.
Bog had pouted a bit when she said she’d be busy all afternoon doing girly stuff with his mother, but ultimately let her go under the justification that he had some reports to address, documents to sign, and various other important, but boring paperwork responsibilities on the agenda for today.
Besides, she’d be staying the night anyway, because a storm cloud had been spotted on the northeastern horizon this morning and it had been steadily approaching as the day wore on.
As troubling as is could be for fairy wings, the rain was still quite welcome. The summer heat had finally reached a point where leggings and calf-high boots were out of the question.
Much to her chagrin, Marianne had to trade in her usual warrior attire for a sleeveless, light cotton dress of silver-grey with navy shading along the skirt and a matching pair of slippers. As much as she disliked the more feminine look, despite the comfort, at least Bog enjoyed being able to see her legs uncovered.
And she couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed all the extra touching that came along with that.
Speaking of which, now that she was done packing all the announcements into her bag, where was Bog now anyway? She’d already checked the study and found it empty.
The thunder crashed outside and the sound of the strong, steady rain echoed through the halls of Bog’s new castle, but Marianne wasn’t worried. Though carved into a mighty, and still living tree trunk, the second fortress was as solid and sturdy as the great boulders her own people used for homes in the Fairy Kingdom.
The pelting rain seemed to grow louder as she made her way towards the throne room. Did someone leave a window open or something?
Oh well, hopefully she’d find Bog there, sitting on his throne and watching the storm. Perhaps he’d be up for a flightless spar? Due to her ensemble, she didn’t want to use her wings and risk accidentally flashing any unsuspecting goblins that might come in to watch the faux-battle. Or maybe they could go to the library and he’d read some more Dark Forest folklore to her?
The layout for the new castle’s throne room was much similar to the previous one, except for two things: the skylight was now in the exact middle of the ceiling and there was a rear entrance to the right, just behind the throne.
So wrapped up in possible plans for spending the stormy afternoon, when Marianne swept into the room through the back way, she didn’t notice anything at first but the pattering sound of water and the slightly lower temperature.
Then she looked up…
.
.
.
Oh no.
.
.
.
OH NO!
.
.
.
She’d been right about an open window. Rain was spilling into the throne room through the skylight. The natural grooves in the tree trunk floor served as a drainage system, so there was no danger of flooding; but even if there was, it would’ve been the very last thing Marianne could force herself to give a damn about now.
Much as he had in that stream, only a week ago, Bog was standing directly beneath the downpour, letting the water splash over every inch of his body.
Time turned back as Marianne watched each and every single drop slide down his chest, torso and legs. Her knees lost half their strength at the sight of his darkened exoskeleton and serene, unaware expression. One relaxed groan from his lips as he ran his hands over his plates to cleanse himself, sent a blazing jolt to her lower belly.
She hadn’t realized she’d moaned until his wide blue eyes were suddenly on her.
He froze in his movements; a parallel to the way Marianne’s own limbs locked in place, preventing her from giving in to her initial instinct of fleeing in humiliation at being caught spying on him like a pervert. At first, he looked reasonably startled, but the speedy rise and fall of her breast, crimson blush and glazed eyes soon had him drawing his brow together in confusion.
It didn’t last long.
The dawn of understanding shaded his gaze with arousal and spread his lips into a grin that was was nothing less than devilish.
“Ah, so that’s it.”
He shook himself as he stepped out from under the stream. Glimmering pearls of water flew off his scales and flashing wings, making him appear almost ethereal as he stalked towards her with all the grace and fluidity of a true predator.
She reacted accordingly, by stumbling backwards and scrambling onto his throne.
He was on her in an instant, kneeling before the throne and bunching her dress up to her waist, exposing her spider-lace panties to the cool air. Her legs found themselves hooked over his shoulders. The large plates helped secure them firmly on either side of his neck.
Marianne thrilled at the shift in power. As much as she liked being dominant, it was such an addictive rush when Bog took control. Mostly because it was such a rare occurrence. Normally, he was so worried about accidentally hurting her with his claws or armored body, he let her take the lead in their more risqué activities. So it was always beyond exciting when he lost his reserve in moments like this. His shyness was endearing and still very sexy, but his confidence was a far more time efficient turn-on.
Case in point…
Bog brought his face as close to her throbbing pussy as he could without touching it. As he examined the rapidly moistening crotch of her underwear, his lips spread in a crooked smile and his brow quirked up in a manner that could only be described as sensuously playful.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s wet.”
He inhaled her scent deep into his lungs and nudged the tip of his nose against the damp spot, making Marianne gasp and brace her hands against the arms of the throne.
“Bog!” She whined as she squirmed, too desperate for him to care that she was shamelessly begging. “Bog, please!”
“Oh no, Tough Girl.” He whispered, keeping her legs firmly in place and lightly tracing his claws over her hips. “First, yer gonna tell me a little story.”
By God, how could he go from being an awkward nerd one minute, to a sex god the next?
It’s not that surprising; you know royalty involves a lot of negotiating. Gotta have one hell of a poker face. Her last shred of logical thinking managed to quickly reason before joining the rest of her senses in a puddle of Bog-induced elation.
“So what happened that day, Marianne, after ye saw me bathing in the stream?”
“I……I…I…”
Bog traced the seam of her panties with a single claw, making her tremble.
“Ye what, love?”
“I-I went home!”
“And?”
“And I……I couldn’t…stop thinking……about you, so I……I came over and I-!”
“Sucked me off.”
Marianne whimpered with lust at his dirty talk. She could feel even more wetness gathering in her core in response.
“So ye couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me, hmm? Tell me, did ye touch yerself, Marianne?”
!!!
She couldn’t answer him with words, but Bog saw the way her face flushed red while her nipples tightened beneath her dress.
“I’ll take tha’ as a yes, ye Naughty Girl.”
Helloooooo, new favorite nickname!
“I think it’s time I thanked ye fer tha’ night. Would ye like tha’, luv?”
Could you get whiplash from nodding too hard?
At her sign of consent, Bog immediately sliced her underwear to ribbons with his talons, which only drove her libido impossibly higher, and revealed her naked, dripping center to his ravenous eyes.
He’d never done this to her before. He had only touched her there a few times in the past; rubbing her to completion in their most recent heated encounters, through her leggings. Now, they were about to take another step forward in their physical relationship, with no more clothing barriers.
And Marianne was certainly all for it!
If only she could suppress this sudden wave of anxiety she was feeling.
She was not anxious about what he was about to do to her; far from it! She was just nervous because……this was the first time he had ever really seen her.
This was her body’s most secret and sheltered place, and now she was truly sharing it with someone else. The someone else. The someone else that she adored more than the sky and all its stars.
What if she looked weird to him? What if she smelled bad? What if she tasted-?
Her concerns were hurled over the horizon once she felt the warm caress of Bog’s awed breath on her sacred mound. Soft as a summer evening breeze, the tips of his claws ghosted over her petals and curls, stuttering her heart and seizing up her lungs.
“Oh Marianne, yer absolutely stunning.”
Tears welled in her eyes at both his compliment and the mesmerized look on his face as he continued to gape at her. So intense was his study, she wasn’t sure of he was speaking to her or himself when his made his next statement:
“I really am a goblin…”
Unsure of his meaning, she looked down at him and her breathing came to a sharp halt when she caught the deliciously dark promise in his eyes.
“…cuz I’m gonna eat ye alive.”
Parting his mouth, and keeping his wicked stare locked on her pleading face, his tongue finally slid between her folds and gave her a long, gentle lick.
She had to bite down on her lip to stifle a shriek as she bucked towards him.
His starving mouth fully descended on her then, alternatively sucking her pearl and lapping at her entrance. His arms were wrapped firmly around her thighs, keeping her open to his lustful attention. Occasionally, his hands massaged her legs comfortingly as she sobbed and writhed in erotic abandon.
What an image! Being pleasured by a king on his own throne!
His tongue lashed her clit and prodded her channel, foreshadowing things to come someday very soon between them. The wet sound of his sinfully enthusiastic ministrations wreaked havoc on Marianne’s senses. She couldn’t think of anything clearly, except how much she loved him and how incredible he was making her feel!
“By God, Marianne!” Bog groaned, lips and chin glistening with her cream. “Ye taste so good, luv!”
She wouldn’t have a prayer of lasting very long if he kept talking like that! Or if he-!
HOLY FUCK!!!
Spurred on by her pleading cries and eager to see how he could please her more, Bog carefully slipped two long, clawed fingers into her tight passage and steadily pumped them in and out.
“Ah! OH! Oh, yes! Yeeeeeees, just like that! Mmm, Bog! Oh God, baby, YES!"
Arching and thrashing in passion, Marianne couldn’t help but delight in Bog’s powerful grip on her lower body; ensuring that she wouldn’t miss a single titillating caress of his mouth and hand. There was just something so strangely irresistible about surrendering all control of such unbelievable sensations to your other half.
As if to concur with her mental observation, Bog growled hungrily against her slick flesh.
“I could do this to ye all day! Do ye have any idea what ye do to me? How much I want ye?!”
Marianne could hardly breathe anymore! Every unbelievable swipe of his tongue and stroke of his fingers felt like he was opening the very depth of her soul and filling it with sun and moonlight. She was getting even more turned on by the fact that anyone could just stroll in and catch them in the middle of this smutty act! Sure, the goblins tended to be pretty inactive during rainstorms, but still!
Bog twisted his wrist so that the pads of his fingertips curved up in a ‘come here’ gesture, brushing against an inner spot that blinded Marianne’s vision with stars and sent keening moans bursting from her throat.
To HELL with it! This felt too hands-down-fucking-fantastic; she couldn’t even pretend to give a rat’s ass about being seen anymore! She didn’t care if she died right now, just as long as he NEVER STOPPED DOING THAT!
“Time to cum fer me, Tough Girl!”
Suckling her jewel a final time, Bog started rapidly shaking his head back and forth and driving his fingers into her lightning fast, casting flames of pure ecstasy under Marianne’s skin.
Drowning in rapture at his motion, her voice grew high and tight. She wasn’t even sure how much of her babbling was said out loud or in her head.
“Oh my God! Mmm…oh-oh-oh, Bog! Fuck, yes! Right there, right there! Ngh, ooooooh, I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum! Oh yeah, please don’t stop…please-please-please! Keep going! Oh Bog, I’m cumming! I’m cumming! YES-YES-YES! AAAH-!”
One last curl of Bog’s tongue and Marianne was flying apart, screaming as the pleasure exploded inside of her like a firework: spreading and burning out in sparkles of purple and gold fire behind her clenched eyelids. Her hands clutched his scaled head, holding him against her as wave after wave of wanton bliss rolled through her veins and Bog worked her all the way through.
Withdrawing his fingers, Bog swallowed every last drop of her sweet honey as if it was the very essence of life itself. As far as he was concerned, it was. Even wiping the excess off his lips seemed like a waste of something divinely precious.
Practically boneless from the slow burn of satisfaction, Marianne let Bog slip her legs off his shoulders and around his waist. He then tenderly hoisted her up into his arms and took her place in his throne, resting her against is chest and soothingly combing his claws through her hair and down her back.
Eventually, she managed to purr like a sleepy kitten and cuddled even closer to him.
“Are ye alright?” Bog asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Marianne gave an exhausted smirk at the familiar question and nodded, drawing random patterns across his chest with her index finger.
“It was…okay?” He pressed. “I didn’t hurt you?”
Okay? Try completely PERFECT.
“Uh-uh.”
“Are ye sure, Marianne? If I did, I need ye to tell me! I would never-”
It took all the remaining energy the princess had to sit up. Why did he always have to do this after they successfully broadened their sexual encounters?
“Bog?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Shut up.”
“But I-!”
Two dainty fingers pressed against the goblin mouth she had a renewed appreciation for.
“Shut. Up.” She repeated forcefully, only dropping her hand once she was certain he wouldn’t protest any further.
Before she gave her explanation, she kissed his lips and almost swooned all over again as she tasted herself.
Focus!
“I’m too tired and way too happy to repeat myself right now, so listen. You did not hurt me, Bog. You were amazing! If I wasn’t positive my heart would give out, I’d want to do that with you every single day for the rest of my life! I didn’t think I could love you any more than I already do, but you just proved me wrong. You made me feel so beautiful and wanted! Please don’t ruin this by doubting yourself……or me. Understand?”
It took some deliberation, but soon Bog wilted under Marianne’s fierce glare and went back to cradling her until she fell asleep, assured that he had repaid her in kind and fantasizing about the time they would take the final plunge in their intimacy.
Little did he know, the slumbering fairy in his arms was dreaming the same thing!