The walls of her cunt were forced apart. The blunt head tore through her unprepared entrance. The shaft followed. The stretch was immediate and total and completely without mercy. Her healer-soft body had no conditioning for this. Her hips tried to close. The goblin on her legs held them open. Her hands were pinned above her.
PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! KYAAANGH~!! HELP~!! PLEASE~!! SOMEONE~!!"
The second one did not wait.
It moved to her face. Its cock pressed against her lips. She turned her head. It grabbed her jaw. It forced her mouth open.
SKHLRK—
Her throat gagged. The goblin cock was shorter than a human’s but thicker at the base. It pressed against the back of her mouth. She gagged continuously — wet, desperate sounds muffled by the shaft. Her eyes streamed. Her hands pulled at the arms holding her wrists.
PAH PAH PAH PAH—
Both goblins thrusting simultaneously. The rhythm was not coordinated — they moved at their own pace, for their own satisfaction, which created an overlapping barrage of impacts that hit her body from two directions.
"MMGH~!! GLK~!! AAAAAANGHH~!! MMGH~!!"
The third rotated in.
They traded positions with the efficiency of creatures that had done this before. The one in her cunt pulled out — SKHLRK — and the thick green seed poured immediately, hot and viscous, running from her stretched entrance down her inner thigh. The third mounted. The entrance was already gaped and wet and the insertion was instant.
PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! PLEASE~!! I WILL DIE~!! PLEASE SOMEONE~!!"
The fourth moved to her back.
She was flipped. The hands rotating her body like an object. Face-down. The goblin that had been in her cunt repositioned to her anal. She felt the blunt, seed-wet head pressing against the ring.
"NO— NO— NOT THERE— NOT— AAAAAANGHH~!!"
PAH—
"KKKKHAAAAAAANNGHHHHHH~!!"
Two simultaneous. Cunt and anal. The double penetration of two goblin cocks filling both holes at the same time. The walls between were thin and the pressure from both shafts was immense. She felt full in a way that was beyond full — beyond capacity, beyond what her body had been built for.
PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! KYAAANGH~!! HAAAAANGHH~!! PLEASE~!!"
The fifth one found her mouth again.
Three holes. All filled. Her body was being used as a communal drain by five creatures that had no interest in her beyond the heat of her and the sounds she made and the warm, wet resistance of her.
Her voice was giving out.
The screams were becoming lower. Broken. She was still conscious — the healer’s constitution was higher than a standard person’s, the mana-reinforced body of someone who channeled life energy — but consciousness was becoming a burden. She was aware of everything. She could not stop any of it.
PAH PAH PAH—
"Mmgh~!! Hngh~!! Aangh~!!"
The seed came.
All five, in rapid succession. Hot, green, thick, in quantities that suggested the frenzy state had been building in these creatures for longer than anyone had realized. Her womb was filled. Her anal was filled. Her stomach received the third load. The warmth spread through her from three directions.
She lay on the dungeon floor.
Her robe was gone. Her body was a map of green seed and hand-shaped bruising and the stretched, leaking evidence of what had been done. Her legs were spread. The seed ran from her in two thick streams. Her eyes were white. Her tongue was out. Her face was the face of a woman who had gone somewhere very far inside herself and had not fully come back.
The goblins, satisfied, dispersed back into the corridor.
She lay there.
She breathed in small, shallow intervals.
A sword came through the corridor in a single arc.
The blade was plain iron, well-maintained, held by a hand that knew exactly what it was doing. The swing connected with the two remaining goblins in the corridor with the clean efficiency of someone who had decided the situation was unacceptable and had acted accordingly.
The sounds stopped.
Footsteps. Running. Multiple sets.
The fighters from the party broke through the side corridor. They saw her. Someone said a word that was not a word — just a sound. Someone knelt. Someone pulled a cloak from their shoulders and put it over her body.
"Reinforcements—" A voice from the main corridor, male, young, carrying the particular edge of someone who had arrived and assessed and was furious. "REINFORCEMENTS HAVE ARRIVED."
Jacob stood in the corridor.
He was eighteen. Dark-haired. Built narrow but strong in the way of someone who had been training seriously for a year rather than ten — the muscle was there but the mass had not caught up yet. His sword was drawn. The blade was clean except for the goblin blood from the swing. His eyes were moving through the corridor with the fast, systematic assessment of someone who had learned to clear a space before stopping to react to it.
Behind him came a woman.
She was the guild’s registered monster suppression officer — a woman known in the guild town as Commander Vess. She was thirty-five.
Built wide through the shoulders.
Her chest was substantial, straining against the practical leather of her armor in a way that the armor designer had clearly not anticipated.
Her thighs were thick and her hips were wide and she moved with the controlled, ground-eating stride of someone who had been fighting in dungeons since before Jacob was born.
She held a long sword in her right hand.
She looked at the fallen priestess. She looked at the green seed. She looked at the walls. Her jaw set.
"These bastard bullwarts," she said. Her voice was controlled but the edge in it was volcanic. "How DARE they."
She went forward.
She was not slow. She moved through the dungeon corridor with the momentum of a woman who had found her particular fury and had given herself permission to use it. Goblins came at her and she handled them — not elegantly, not with technique, but with the absolute, practical brutality of someone who had been doing this too long to waste movement.
Jacob kept pace.
The dungeon cleared level by level. The goblins in frenzy state were stronger than standard but they were still goblins — still low-intelligence creatures that prioritized targets by warmth and sound rather than tactical assessment. Vess exploited this. She made noise. She drew them. She put them down.
Jacob moved quieter.
He was learning. The week had changed him — the parasite missions had layered his instincts with something sharper, a combat sense that had not existed before. He moved through the dungeon the way the parasite had shown him: read the space, identify the pressure points, apply force where resistance was lowest.
They cleared level one.
They cleared level two.
Level three was different.
The air changed at the bottom of the staircase. The smell changed. Not the wet-rock-and-goblin smell of the upper levels. Something older. Muskier. The smell of something large that had been living somewhere for a long time and had marked the territory with the particular thoroughness of a creature that had no fear of anything smaller than itself.
They heard her before they saw anything.
A woman’s voice. Not screaming for help. Past that.
The sound of a woman who had been screaming for help and had given up expecting it.
The sound of a woman who was being used and could not stop it and had gone somewhere inside where the sounds still came out but the intent behind them had changed.
A sound that was pain and something else mixed.
"Hah— hah— stop— please— hah— stop—"