Chapter 19: Dong no down. Raedon Dead!

Chapter 19 - Dong no down. Raedon Dead!"Wait! Raedon!!!" Alice shouted after him, but the little gremlin had already disappeared down the hall like a streak of offended chaos. "Shit. Shit! What the hell have I done?" She stared at the door, then down at her hand—the same hand that had sent him flying. Guilt hit her like a brick to the chest. No, this wasn't just about a slap. This was her fault from the start. He hadn't caused trouble. Not once. Not for her, not towards her child, not even for that nosy neighbor who kept peeking over the fence. And yet... she'd let him under her skirt. No—invited him, practically! And before that, she'd gone and made him sniff her—Gods help her—her soaked, dripping, traitorous fingers. Then slapped him across the head like he was the villain. And now his enormous, thick, mouthwateringly stupidly oversized dong was hurting because of her. Bigger than her husband's. Way bigger. She hated how vividly she remembered it. Alice clenched her fists, eyes blazing. "No. I'm going to fix this." She didn't care if it was insane. She didn't care if it was weird. She didn't care if Emily came back and found her crawling around the estate calling out for the dick-hurt gremlin like a lunatic. 'I will make this right.' With one last deep breath, she set off, barefoot and determined, with the posture of a war general and the shame of a woman who'd just orgasmed into a tea party. ... First things first—Alice scooped up her son and carried him upstairs like the responsible mother she technically still was. She tucked him in snugly, kissed his forehead, and whispered a lullaby, even though her mind was still reeling. Because let's be honest—what kind of mother would leave her kid alone in the kitchen just to chase after a horny little goblin with a dong so girthy, biiiggg, and monstroussss it probably had its own gravitational pull? 'Fuck... why am I thinking like that?' She slapped both cheeks, hard, as she descended the stairs, trying to beat the degeneracy out of her skull. It didn't work. She was sure, he was in his hut. Well, he can't run out to the road with that monstrously big, and long and girthy-- 'AH, HELL nah! What is happening to me?!' She shook her head like a wet dog, trying to clear the smut-filter from her thoughts. But all that came was more unholy thoughts, multiplied by every bounce of her step. It was a problem. If Raedon had been watching her from a distance—which, thankfully, he wasn't—he would've absolutely blown two full cans of his special green sauce at the sight. Her boobs were bouncing like divine water balloons blessed by the gods, her hips swaying like she was grinding on invisible danger, and her ass? Clapping loud enough to summon a low-tier demon from the underworld. But Raedon saw none of that. Poor little bastard was curled up in his hut like a goblin version of a tragic prince, nursing three kinds of trauma—his bruised skull, his dented pride, and a pole that wasn't going down. Alice finally reached the hut, her breath a little ragged—not from exhaustion, but from the sheer absurdity of everything that had happened. She raised her hand to knock, but froze as she heard a muffled noise from inside. '...Is he crying?' She pressed her ear to the wooden door. "Ahhh... Hurt... Pain... Me dead... If dong not down, me dead..." Alice's heart clenched. It was so pitiful. She clutched her chest as if the drama alone might kill her. Then the sound became louder, like the owner of the voice knew has has audience. Of course, that wasn't the case at all, since all of this was real and Raedon was on the edge of death. "Raedon is goblin. Goblin horny. Raedon suppress. Madame sexy... and most bootiful. Raedon horny again." That line about her being sexy and bootiful hit her like a cursed arrow to the gut. Her heart skipped, then thudded louder. And her lower half? It did that thing again—that traitorous, purring throb that reminded her she was still very much aware of him. She bit her lip, cursed under her breath, and kept listening. The sound become louder again. "If dong not down... Raedon die. But... Raedon drank most delicious, most yummy liquid. Raedon think he go heaven. Raedon want drink more. But... if Madame hate Raedon... then dong stay up... and Raedon die." Alice blinked. Her vision blurred. Tears. She was tearing up? "...What the hell is wrong with me?" She whispered, wiping her eyes. And yet, deep down, she knew exactly what was wrong. It was all her fault. She knew the rumors. Everyone knew about the goblins and their craze for breeding. Second only to succubi on the World Horniness Index. And yet, somewhere between her teasing, her spread legs, and her soaking panties, she had forgotten one crucial fact: Their instincts were magically suppressed for a reason. Thanks to Celeste's soul magic, goblins pervy urges were sealed tighter than a nun's diary. But all that suppression? Shattered. Cracked like an egg on a furnace the moment her divine juice hit Raedon's nose. Now he was in pain. Real pain. Dying-of-a-boner pain. All because of her. "Stupid me..." she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. Then she remembered his words, stupid and sweet in the dumbest possible way. "Raedon drank most delicious, most yummy liquid. Raedon think he go heaven." A smile tugged at her lips despite herself. "If that's how he acted after just a taste... what if he drank from the source...?" Her cheeks turned crimson. Her thighs pressed together instinctively. "Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with me?!" She slapped her own face—not once, but twice. She was spiraling. Becoming one of those women in smutty tavern novels who fell for morally questionable dungeon guides with mysterious pasts and gigantic... swords. Still... She glanced at the door. "I can't let him die," she whispered. "I broke the seal. I'll help him. Whatever it takes." With a deep breath and trembling fingers, Alice pushed open the door.