Mimi the Goblin Chapter 1

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/36357778.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Original Work
Character: Original Characters, Mimi The Goblin, Fick the Goblin, Sir Reg
Additional Tags: Goblins, Fantasy, 18+, Consensual Sex, Butts, Light Bondage, Sex
Series: Part 1 of Mimi the Goblin
Stats: Published: 2022-01-11 Words: 2272

Mimi the Goblin Chapter 1

by MorbidCarnalities

Summary

Mimi the Goblin is roused from her vivid fantasies by the disappointments of the real
world, but she is given a glimmer of hope. Buckfest begins this very night, and in
attendance will be a real, live, human.

The last gout of flame leaped from the dragon’s maw, but it was far too late. The blade had found
its home under the beast’s breast, and the shining knight only drove it deeper. Black blood stained
his billowing red cape in spurts, and painted the glimmering silver of his breastplate until, at last,
the great lizard sputtered and rattled its last.

With a shrug of his shoulders, the crusader discarded the monstrosity atop its piles of gold and
treasure. He turned then, and in a single smooth movement swept his plumed helmet from his head.
His eyes burned with triumph, and the set of his strong, stubbled jaw was firm and edged with
pride. He advanced on the damsel with long, sure strides, and with a single swing of his sword,
split the ropes holding the woman’s arms stretched high above her head.

Princess Mimi nearly collapsed upon the rattling coins and gems beneath her, but her knight was
there to catch her. Throwing his sword down, his strong arms encircled her, and she felt her form
melt against his. “Oh! Sir Reg!” She cried out, clinging to him. “How can I ever repay you?!”

The man lifted her to her feet, keeping her cradled tight to him. “I came to claim the dragon’s
treasure… and now I have.” He said, his voice gruff and low and masculine. From her near
standing position, she was then swept down onto the dragon’s horde, the knight’s rough stubble
tickling her neck as he kissed the tender flesh of her throat.

"Oh! Brave knight!” Mimi called out, throwing back her hair and arching up into the man. The
warrior did… something with his armor that Mimi couldn’t see, and she felt him so hard against
her body. Her many skirts were bundled and bunched up over her long luxurious legs, and she was
so very wet. The man bucked forward, and she felt him fill her just so good.
" Oh! Sir Reg! I’m close! I’m so-”

A thrust struck Mimi’s broad backside with a wet smack, knocking her hips into the shop’s counter
hard enough to bruise her and bringing her rudely back to reality. She grunted, and that seemed to
be taken as encouragement to the young man behind her. “Oh, fuck! Mimi!” He groaned, gripping
her around her waist tight. She felt him swell, and then rupture, the heat of him spreading out inside
her in ways that made her shudder and clench.

The goblin girl gave a soft grumble as the afterglow of ejaculation faded from her, and removed her
sticky fingers from between her legs, looking idly at the string of viscous lubrication connecting
them. She really had been so close too…

“Oh fuck. Mimi, you’re incredible.” Fick muttered, dropping to let his chest rest on her back, if
only briefly. The girl couldn’t help but smile at that. Fick was sweet. She could never hold that
against him.

“So you always say.” She replied, pushing up off the counter to dislodge him, shooing him until
he’d stepped out of and away from her. Another shudder ran through her as she felt a string of his
seed break and fall against her inner thigh. She threw her skirts back over the impressive swell of
her ass so that he couldn’t see her rubbing her legs together, spreading his seminal fluid across her
skin. A sense of satisfaction spread from her core and radiated out at the lewd epilogue to their
lovemaking.

“Scurry on. I’ll have customers soon.” She chided, casting a weary eye and a tantalizing smile back
at the boy. He was working to get his pants pulled back up, struggling to work his fingers
whenever the fabric touched his sensitive prick. He fixed her with a wide, sharp-toothed grin. He
never really stopped smiling when he was around her.

“Will I see you tonight?” He asked, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“It’s a small town, Fick. Of course you’ll see me.” She answered, running her hands through her
hair to push a few strands out of her face. There wasn’t much to push, not since the month prior
when she had shorn most of it off. That had dissuaded a number of her suitors, but not Fick. Never
Fick.

Mimorosa Birthwort was a goblin girl nearing her 20th year, with features that were at last leaving
adolescence behind. She had always been a source of suspicion in the greenskin village of Frog
Hollow, and that suspicion had only begun to deepen in the past year and a half, as the windows of
her youth began to close. She had whelped no brats, and tied herself to no man. Her employment,
as cashier and assistant at the apothecary of Giorvosa Kamnenena only furthered the distaste that
polite goblin society held for her.

Much of this talk was unrequited lust from those village men who could not, or had not had her, or
jealousy and distrust from their wives, who believed their husbands had, or had at least wanted to.
She was a prize, in the goblin fashion, with a round moon face that housed two big bright yellow
eyes, a prominent, statuesque nose that was not too long, and hooked at just the right angle.
Moving steadily down, as one must, her figure spoke to boundless fertility. Her shoulders were
narrow, her breasts small, but plump, and her belly host to a merry band of chub that expanded out
into an eye popping expanse of hips. Her rear could not hide under any fabric or combination of
garments. She had tried them all, to no avail.

Her hair was not wound into the extensive styles that were the fashion for her people and their
village, but she had died it a rich plum after she’d cut it all off. It had quickly faded into a lavender
that she preferred to the intended shade, and now stuck up into changeable and random ranges of
spikes, easily reshaped with spit or sweat into any manner of arrangements she might desire. It was
also, a hell of a lot cooler, which she appreciated in the climate of Frog’s Hollow, as that climate
was set to be crushingly humid with the coming dawn of spring.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Fick replied, and Mimi couldn’t help but internally wince as
she caught the note of genuine heartbreak in his tone. She needed to cut the boy loose, for both
their sakes, but she shuddered to think what he would do if she stopped fucking him. She
shuddered to think what she would do if she stopped fucking him. She had, wisely, burned bridges
with all the rougher lads of the village, and anyone softer than Fick just wouldn’t do.

She stared at the boy deadpan for a long while, trying not to let any panic into her slitted yellow
eyes. With miraculous timing, the door rattled open, sending a network of chimes to merry
dancing. As Madame Pillgrove slipped in, Fick slunk out, casting one last pained look back at
Mimi. The girl behind the counter pretended not to notice, all piercing teeth and effusiveness to one
of the apothecary’s regulars.

“Give us our monthly, girl.” The Goblin matron demanded, heaving herself bodily to the counter.
Madame Pillgrove was perpetually exhausted and short tempered. This endeared her to Mimi, who
was quick enough on her feet to get out of the woman’s way when she was on the warpath. She
could only dream of having the courage to say the kind of scathing things the Madame spat at
passerbys without a second thought. Pillgrove was an avenging angel as far as Mimi saw it. The
whole of Frog’s Hollow would sink into the muck without her watchful eye and sharp tongue
keeping everyone on their toes and at their stations.

“Right away, Madame.” Mimi agreed, turning away from her and trotting back around to the tea
shop’s storeroom. “Was just going to put on some thistle tea. Would you like some?”

“Aye. That’d do me good, girl.” She said, looking off into the distance. “Mister Pillgrove wants to
try for ten. Says a nice round number’ll do us. Pah! Well what happens if we have twins again?
Gods forbid. Do we not stop till we hit twenty?”

Mimi listened as she slunk back to the corner of the shop’s counter, stepping on a small bellows.
The embers in the stove beneath the counter roared to life, and she opened the grate to toss another
stumpy log in, already feeling fresh sweat bead across her forehead. She’d be suffering behind the
counter for the next hour, but there was nothing for it. She brought the kettle over onto the burner
with a clank, and brought down a couple of cups.

“Not that I mind the trying, of course.” Madame Pillgrove crooned, fixing Mimi with a lecherous
grin. Mimi smiled back at her encouragingly and continued the task at hand.

The Thistle was always kept close to the tea bar, and she threw a healthy pinch of it into each of
their cups. She ground wild carrot seed every morning as well, and she added it to each beverage. It
wouldn’t do Pillgrove much use, taken as a one off, but Mimi still hadn’t had her dose for the day.
It was easier to make them the same. That done, she stepped into the storeroom to search out the
woman’s order, letting the water heat on the stove.

“Are you going to the Buckfest tonight?” Pillgrove’s crackling voice called out from the lobby.
Mimi did not answer until she had assembled the woman’s order. Black Tea. Shaved Ginger. Milk
Thistle. Ground Willow Bark. Peppercorn. She brought her back two bags, both filled heavy. The
Matron didn’t like to be seen entering the Apothecary more than once a month.

“I planned to stop by.” Mimi at last replied, setting the bags down, and moving over to awkwardly
stand by the kettle as it began to bubble. An impatient part of her wanted to start the pour right
away but she refrained.

“Good. Good.” The older goblin commented, nodding to herself. “That’s not what you’re wearing
is it?”

Mimi looked down at her garments. She was wearing her favorite embroidered vest, buttoned up
tight to her chest, and her skirts, which consisted of a great bloom of chaotic fabrics, patched
together out of any bolt of cloth she had come to fancy, or old garment that had given out on her.
She lifted her leg to watch how the many layers parted and swished past each other, a kaleidoscope
of color combining and parting before her eyes. She loved her skirts.

“I rather figured I wouldn’t wear anything at all.” The tea maiden answered matter of factly. This
was the right answer, as Madame Pillgrove clapped excitedly.

“Perfect. As it should be. Pretty little thing like you should strut every chance she gets.”

Mimi gave a swish of her hips as she stepped back towards the stove, which elicited a cackle of
laughter from the matron. That only made her like the old bag more. At least she thought the girl
was funny. She couldn’t get more than a good natured chuckle out of Fick.

The tea pot was gently humming now, and the two women stood in silence until it began to
properly whistle. Mimi snatched it off the stovetop, hissing along with the steam as she lightly
scalded herself on the handle. She filled their teacups, gave them a moment to steam, and then
brought them over to share. She knew this was a bad idea. Madame Pillgrove might have the
patience to sit there and let her drink steep, but Mimi always started sipping too soon.

An awkward silence stretched between the pair for a brief moment as the water in their cups
steadily darkened. As always, Pillgrove spoke first. “You hear the news about Uberfather Greznik
and his lads?”

Mimi couldn’t help but groan. “No. What’s that old gasbag whinging about this time?”

“Oh, the usual, I suppose.” Pillgrove said, waving her hand to chide the younger woman for being
presumptuous. “But that’s not the news. No. He and his boys caught a human the other day.
They’re gonna show him off at the festival tonight.”

“A human!” Mimi blinked her eyes rapidly. That was news. “Where’d they catch it?”

“Oh, out in the swamp somewhere. You know those boys love playing with their traps”

Mimi reeled at this information, a cavalcade of emotions galloping through her mind. Mentally, she
was paging through a dozen books she’d read on the outside world. The woman felt a burning
ember of indignation light in her belly. Why was she only learning of this now, when everyone in
town knew she was the resident expert on humans?

“Probably just a lost trader, huh?” The tea-maker pressed, trying not to sound too excited.

“Oh no. Warrior. He had a sword and armor.”

A Knight!

“Greznik says he was coming to kill us all, but he would say that. Probably lost, yes.” Pillgrove
remarked, leaning down to blow on the surface of her tea. If she noticed the way the young goblin
girl across from her was now buzzing with excitement, she did not comment on it. “Poor dear. I
don’t imagine they’ll keep him long after the festival.”

“A real live human.” Mimi muttered, only half listening to the matron now. She brought her tea to
her lips and gave a yelp as she drank. She’d burned her tongue.

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