Goblins. Of all the creatures to be captured by it had to be goblins. You would have died of embarrassment had anyone learned you had been overpowered by such low ranking, diminutive creatures. You had underestimated their craftiness and, more importantly, their numbers. Before you could put up an effective defense they had hastily disarmed and disrobed you before dragging you deep into their lair.

Bound in the middle of their encampment you could do little more than observe as they went about their duties. It seemed this particular tribe of goblins were all female. A fact that had been hard to miss considering the exaggerated female features on their squat green bodies. Breasts of various sizes, some as large as your head, bounced across your line of sight. Dusky nipples of darker shades of green jutted from the globes of flesh, the ratty leather garments the goblins chose to wear failing to hide them. Further down, their hips exploded outwards. So incredibly wide were their rear ends that you doubted your hands would meet if you tried to wrap your arms around them.

One goblin in particular stood out to you. Sat upon a throne of refuse her eyes never left your body. The goblins had ridiculous proportions, but she was on another level. You wondered how, or if, she could move with breasts of her size, each orb of fat larger than her head. The bags of flesh she called an ass pillowed outwards, devouring the seat of her makeshift throne. You presumed this was the queen of this particular goblin tribe. She was just as short as her compatriots, but her lofty wooden crown assured you of her status.

With salacious desire written upon her face she raised her hand into the air, the goblins dropped whatever they were doing and watched transfixed as she silently brought her hand back down and pointed at you. This seemed to rile them up as they tossed aside their clothing, the musky scent of their arousal quickly filled the lair. Their intentions were clear,