Chapter 15 Pain, Humiliation and the Grotesque Ritual to Carry the Eggs

Minutes dragged on. The air grew thick with dread. When the door creaked open again, the first goblin stumbled out, his face a mask of shock and pain. He was grunting and clutching his belly, it was bulging as if he had swallowed a balloon. He collapsed to the ground, unable to stand. The guard's grin had widened, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

“Next!” he called, and another unfortunate slave was pushed forward. One by one, we were herded into the shed, each of us knowing we might not come out alive.

When it was my turn, my legs felt like lead. I stumbled forward, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. The guard shoved me inside, and the door slammed shut behind me. The inside of the shed was dim, filled with the rank stench of sweat and fear. Rakrak stood in the center, his eyes glinting with predatory glee.

I was forced down onto a rough wooden bench, the splintered surface biting into my skin. The goblin master and his guards watched with twisted anticipation, their eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as I was positioned for the grotesque ritual to carry the eggs. My body trembled uncontrollably, a visceral reaction to the horror that awaited me. The guard’s rough hands gripped me, his claws digging into my flesh with merciless force.

The initial touch sent a shockwave of searing pain through me. I felt my body being violated, my dignity shredded. Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the dirt and blood that caked my skin. The guard’s egg-laying straw, a grotesque and unnatural appendage, was thrust into me.

"REEEEEEEEEEEE!" I screamed in pain.

My innocent, tiny anus felt as if it were being torn apart, a raw, relentless agony that consumed my every thought.

Each second was an eternity of suffering. The guard pushed deeper, the straw burrowing into my insides with brutal insistence. The sensation was beyond excruciating, a torment that defied comprehension. I squealed, "WREEEEEEEEEEEE!" and squirmed, my body’s desperate attempts to escape the pain futile against the guard’s overpowering grip.

 "Hold still, you pathetic wretch," the guard snarled, his breath hot and rancid against my ear.

The guard, a hulking figure with mottled green skin and jagged teeth, loomed over me. His eyes gleamed with a perverse hunger. He grabbed my shoulders with a bruising grip, his claws digging into my flesh. I tried to squirm away, but his strength was overwhelming. The guard's body pressed against mine, his weight suffocating and oppressive.

With a guttural growl, he began to thrust harder. His body moved with a brutal rhythm, each thrust sending waves of agony through my frail frame.

"Reeee! Wreeee! Eeeeek! Eeeeeep!" I screamed with each thrust.

 It was a hideous parody of mating, more akin to the violent coupling of wild beasts. The guard's movements were savage, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. I could feel his claws tearing at my skin, leaving bloody welts in their wake.

My cries of agony filled the shed, a chorus of despair that seemed to feed the guards’ perverse pleasure. They laughed and jeered, their cruel voices a backdrop to my suffering. The egg-laying straw pulsed and convulsed, depositing its vile eggs within me.

As the pain intensified, I squeezed my eyes shut and bit into the bench, trying to block out the reality of what was happening. But the sounds were inescapable - the wet, slapping noise of flesh against flesh, the guttural grunts of the guard, and the muffled cries of the other goblins outside awaiting their turn.

"Take it, slave! Take it!" he hissed, his voice a twisted whisper of pleasure.

The guards laughed and jeered, their voices a cruel chorus. 

"Look at him squirm! Bet he wishes he was dead now!"

"That's right, slave. Take those eggs. You're nothing but a broodmare for us now."

With a final, violent thrust, the guard's body convulsed. I felt a sickening warmth as he shot his load and eggs inside me, a sensation unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was as if my insides were being overspread, corrupted by this vile act. The eggs settled heavily in my guts, a grotesque reminder of my new, horrific purpose. I felt my belly bulge as the guard continued to shoot his load.

The guard pulled away, leaving me crumpled on the floor, my body aching and bruised. He stood over me, a sadistic smile playing on his lips.

 "Get up, filth. Your job is done. Get lost!"

I struggled to rise, my legs shaking beneath me. The other goblins in line watched with wide, terrified eyes as I stumbled out of the shed. My body felt foreign, weighed down by the eggs now nestled within me. The pain was overwhelming, but the shame and humiliation cut even deeper. I couldn't even walk straight.

As I rejoined the others, the process continued, each goblin forced to endure the same horrific ritual. The shed became a chamber of nightmares, where our dignity was stripped away, and our bodies were used as mere tools for breeding. The once vibrant green of our skin grew dull, our eyes hollow from the relentless torment.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of pain and exhaustion. The guards had no intention of letting us rest. They barked orders and cracked their whips, forcing us to return to our labor even as our bodies screamed for respite. Each step sent fresh waves of agony through me, the eggs within shifting painfully with every movement.

Nightfall brought a brief, uneasy reprieve. We huddled together in the dark, our bodies forming a tangled mass of suffering. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and fear. The other goblins who had been chosen for breeding lay nearby, their faces contorted in pain and terror. The rest of the slaves, though spared this particular torment, were no better off. The relentless labor and constant beatings had taken their toll, leaving us all teetering on the edge of collapse.

As I lay there, trying to find some small comfort in the shared warmth of my fellow slaves, I couldn’t help but wonder how much longer we could endure this. Our numbers had dwindled to nearly half of what they once were, and those who remained were little more than walking corpses. The goblin master’s promise of death for those who failed to carry the eggs hung over us like a sword, a constant, oppressive threat that left us all in a state of perpetual dread.

The next morning, the guards roused us with kicks and shouts, dragging us to our feet and shoving us back to work. Despite the agony and exhaustion, we obeyed. The fear of punishment was a powerful motivator, driving us to continue even when every instinct screamed for us to stop.

In the next few days, the farm took shape. The cave, the sheds, and the crop fields were all completed. The hatchery, the cruel heart of this operation, was now fully functional. The goblin master walked among us, a smirk of satisfaction on his twisted face as he surveyed his handiwork.

 We clung to each other for support. We whispered words of encouragement and shared what little food and water we could scavenge. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep us going, to give us a glimmer of hope in a world that seemed determined to crush us.

The days passed, each one marked by the relentless grind of labor and the agonizing weight of the eggs growing within me. As the seventh day neared, my belly had swollen to an almost grotesque size, the eggs inside pushing my skin outward in unnatural lumps. The physical discomfort was immense, but it was the psychological toll that weighed heaviest on my mind. Each egg represented a future hatchling, a tiny life brought into this world through an act of violence and cruelty.

Despite the brutality of my situation, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of joy and anticipation. The thought of bringing new life into the world, of nurturing tiny gobbies like once myself, filled me with a strange mixture of hope and despair. I remembered Kaka and how he cared for us hatchlings, his eyes filled with a deep, abiding love despite the harshness of our existence. Now, I too would have my own little ones, and the instinct to protect and love them surged within me, overwhelming the pain and humiliation.

On the morning of the seventh day, the guards came for us. The tension in the air was high as we were herded toward the hatchery. The goblin master, Rakrak, stood at the entrance, his eyes cold. He watched us with a cruel smirk, his gaze lingering on our distended bellies. The sight seemed to amuse him, and his laughter echoed in the air, a chilling reminder of our subjugation.

"Ah, my loyal slaves," he sneered, "It's time for your precious eggs to be delivered. Remember, if any of you fail, there will be no mercy."

We were lined up and led into the hatchery, our bodies aching from the effort of carrying the eggs. The room was dimly lit, with makeshift nests prepared on the ground. We squatted down like chickens on a coop, our legs spread to ease the laying process. The guards watched closely, ready to beat us at the slightest sign of hesitation or weakness.