168. RETURN TO BASE, PART 2 (R-18)

My first stop is Aello, the Harpy Matron. Judging by her state of recline and relaxation, it looks like she’s been lying around all day being waited on hand and foot by male smallfolk.

“So, how did collecting all the Fuzzies of Fuzzy Field go today?”

*Snort* “Eh? Wha?” I startle her out of dozing amidst a cuddle-pile of bunny boys and mice. She fluffs her feathers, jostling her big bouncy breasts and sending her beaus rolling as she stirs. “Hmm? Oh, and welcome back, Alex—er, your Ladyship! You’re looking particularly powerful and menacing today.”

“The Fuzzies?”

“That? Ah, yes, such an important task. I delegated it to a very competent subordinate while I vigilantly guarded Field Town.”

"~Come little children, I'll take thee away~"

Just as I’m about to inquire who the ‘competent individual’ in question was, a haunting melody answers my question. Lucinia glides into town singing a lilting tune that has a throng of fans following in her wake. That is to say, she must’ve done a pass over Fuzzy Field with her entrancing melody to gather as many young smallfolk as possible before leading them home.

It’s no wonder I saw so many of them in the New Warren. Lucinia is doing a better job than a twenty-man team all by herself!

“Mmm hmm. Any incidents to report?” I ask as Moka leaves to give the Siren a hand with the charmed Fuzzies.

“Incidents?” Aello seems confused for a moment before replying. “Oh, my, yes, incidents

. There was a fight amongst the Dire Wolves over an especially cute mouse. A ridiculous argument when there are so many to go around, but I digress. I knocked some sense into them and the others fell in line.”

“Nobody got injured, though?”

“Of course they—I mean, no, Lady Mayoress! No one needs healing before the war. Only a few bruised behinds and battered egos, I assure.”

“As long as it was settled peaceably and there are no significant wounds to be cared for. Although, I did bring us another healer in preparation for battle, so maybe I’ll have Effie treat the Dire Wolves to be totally sure there’s no internal bleeding or anything.”

The old bird only sweats a little. “Ah, hmm, yes, perhaps that’s for the best.”

She's lucky to be so sexy in that form.

When I reach the Kindergarten, the area is almost unrecognizable. Give a Flower Dryad time and a fertile plot of land, especially an experienced one like Mother Heather, and she’ll transform it into an idyllic garden. Colorful, fragrant blooms practically explode from every square inch of land. That woman may not be trustworthy on her own but, between her, Doug, and Gretta, the three of them are doing an admirable job watching the children. The pregnant Busty Willows have formed a perimeter around the pristine garden as well—serving as both nursemaids as well as guardians.

A segment of the Fleecy Sheeple fashionistas is here handing over outfits in child sizes and tailoring garments to their tiny wards. I’m slightly surprised to see Mother Heather endorsing this but, when I consider the situation more deeply, I realize she’s the one who wove grass skirts for the kids originally. They wouldn’t have any modesty growing up without her influence, so I suppose we should be grateful for that. Doug seems astonished by his first decent pair of pants, and Gretta is thrilled to have the support of a proper brassiere.

For the record, despite everything I’ve done for them, I’m still not popular with the Charlatan Forest kids. They glare at me constantly when I'm around, though at least they've stopped badmouthing me. I probably have Greg and Gretta to thank for that. Maybe I should have Mulu swing by sometime to absolve me of my ‘mean lady’ moniker.

Still, with more citizenry, children, housing, landscaping, and real clothing on our backs, this Field Town is starting to look like a genuinely cute little settlement!

Next, after leaving the Kindergarten behind, I find Jenny, Julia, and Effie are on their backs side-by-side being ‘introduced’ to the Fruit Nymphs as I pass through the Pavilion. Marcy, Nicole, and Serra pound away at their pussies with their fruity dicks while Bruce, Ned, and Lance take the Nymphs from behind and Janine takes notes one-handed as she fingers herself. Mrs. Fleece is still enjoying the services of the Strangler Fig boys while her former students help prepare dinner. The Doggin Guard are the only ones behaving professionally in all this.

Rather than join in the fun, I decide to go looking for my favorite Goblin. It's been a long day since I checked in on my first wife.

I find Gabby where I left her in that ritual circle this morning. Except, the scene is much changed. My Goblin bride, completely nude with her heavy breasts dangling free, is tending to her Third Tier needle where it rests suspended on a spit over glowing coals. The smell of burning hair fills the air, ragged cuts in her black locks evidencing the source. Purple glowing glyphs in miniscule script decorate the needle’s shaft as she hardens it with flame. Then Gabby lifts the spine with tongs and drops it in a bowl of crimson.

Thirteen times bound, thirteen times fired, and thirteen times quenched in blood…

The relevant passage from the Book of Monsters echoes in my mind as I watch Gabby complete her ritual. The Goblin Apprentice-no-longer holds her hand above the bubbling, hissing bowl while scarlet drips from her palm. The glyphs shine brighter, tendrils of smoke rising like snakes along the trail of blood to coil around her wrist and then tighten to draw the blackened wand up into her grip.

Gabby douses the fire with the bowl of her blood and a dark cloud rises from the coals. She stabs her wand into the heart of the fumes while I watch in fascination. Twirling the tip, she sends the smoke spiraling into a cone that solidifies before our eyes. The Goblin Witch snatches her newly formed black hat from the air, waves her wand over its mouth, and then draws forth a set of robes as dark and silky as liquid shadow.

After donning her robes and hat, Gabby raises her wand in a skyward slash. A Third Tier Harpy Matron Air Blade leaps from the purple-glowing tip of the black spine. I’m properly wowed by the display, proud that my wife has overcome her limitation in being able to execute the Third Tier spells she has memorized. Just as I’m about to start clapping in applause, the Air Blade stops in its fight to hover in place.

My jaw drops and my eyes bulge as Gabby slashes the sky again, conjuring another Air Blade that collides with the first above our heads. Both spells hang suspended until a third Air Blade merges the trio together. Below, the Witch conducts an eerie confluence with her magical baton, manipulating leylines until an enormous Air Blade takes shape. Like an executioner, she brings her wand down on the depleted ritual circle, dropping the Air Guillotine to cleave a deep furrow in the ground.

Nearby heads pop up from work or fornication to assess the situation, and then carefully retreat before the intimidating sight. The newly minted Witch adjusts her spectacles while seeming to measure the depth and breadth of the savagely cut trough.

“…Honey, I’m home.”

Gabby whirls about to face me with eyes that glimmer a smokey purple light. Her icy expression melts when she sees me, and a niggling worry that the Dark Magic coursing through the Gobliness is affecting her mind dissolves with relief. Despite the shortstack’s size, she cuts an imposing figure with those voluptuous curves—her glimpses of green skin sexier than ever once clothed in black silk—breasts larger than her head forming cleavage that I could get lost in thanks to the dress’s low-cut neckline, not to mention her conical hat spearing toward heaven, and her dangerously glowing wand. Gabby stows the magic needle in her robe’s girdle and strides forward with newly emboldened confidence.

“Alex, welcome home.” Her gaze lands on my fleecy collar dimly radiating blue energy, and her lips curl into a soft smile. “A successful ‘hunt,’ I see.”

I nod, then make a show of letting my eyes rove over her from head to toe. “It looks like your ritual went off without a hitch.”

“Yes, thanks to the Book of Monsters. I’d be at a loss for my evolution without those notes. The others you’ve gathered to date depend on luck or instinct for their progression, and that admittedly seems to be working well for some..." she trails off, probably thinking of Suka, Megan, or Cottontail, then resumes, "But I fear I’d have not been much use without the wealth of knowledge I inherited.”

Shrugging with all four arms, I reply, “What’s the use of hypotheticals? We’re here now, and that crater tells me we’re ready for a fight.”

She grins up at me with a broad smile of razor, predatory teeth. “You’ve been in the lead for a while now, but I think I’m finally ready to protect my human bride. Perhaps you should stay home to raise the children while I go win this war tomorrow.”

I know she’s joking by her tone; it’s a callback to our early relationship that leaves me nostalgic even though it was only a few days ago. It feels like years…

“You still think of me as human?”

Gabby takes my hand and raises it to show the ring on my finger—the ring she gave me when we exchanged vows. “You’ll always be my human, Alex.”

I suck in a breath as her husky voice soaks my panties. “Damn greedy little Goblin.” Clenching my thighs together like a needy bitch, I gaze into her lusty purple eyes and say, “Those robes are in the way.”