Goblin In the Basement Part 2

>Nov 5th: I introduced Scrappa to another game. Since I first found her in a cage, I didn’t want to rush her into being trapped or confined. Then again, she did live under the floor for a while.

>I get some of the clothes she scrapped and use them to tie her hands and feet behind her. She wriggles but seems excited for being at my mercy. I warm her up with some petting and stroking, but before long her legs are as open as she can get them and whimpering for more. I start with her mouth as usual and she wolfs it down like she’s starving. I cum into her mouth and she overflows, drooling and choking from trying to swallow it all down. I can’t last that long with her kind of passion, but I’ve definitely developed some stamina from her insistence on marathoning orgasms. She’s still cleaning up from that when I get behind her and fill up her pussy. It rocks her little body every time I thrust, and that just makes her big booty jiggle along with it. It adds more weight to her movement, so even with her stuck in place she feels like she’s humping back. She keeps mewling and trying to say something, but she’s still too distracted to swallow the first load. It’s kind of cute to see my horny little munchkin that overwhelmed. I ask if she’s okay, and all she can manage is a happy little gurgling noise. It’s enough to get me to burst inside her again, this time filling up her pussy. Like everything else on her, she’s too tiny to keep it all inside and leaks out past me.

>I decide to try out anal with her while she’s vulnerable and rested up from the other night. Her rubbery hide and all that booty fat makes her feel deeper and roomier than her pussy, while still keeping that tightness. I’ve noticed that while her body stretches to fit me as best she can, I haven’t really stretched her out or made her loose. It’s less that I’m stretching her out like clay, but more like a rubber band; she just pops back into place. It probably explains her natural jiggle, but also why goblins seem to be so casual about physical roughness. I can feel her strange second clitoris like last time, and she yowls as I ease in. “Sticky! Sticky!” she managed to babble out, her mouth still full of drool and cum. Since experimenting is kind of the theme of the night, I keep squeezing and thrusting into her ass and she keeps wailing and squirming in her bindings. I consider letting her out for a few seconds, but remember the bite mark she still left on my thigh from when I ate her out. Dirty goblin girl does mean dirty bites too.

>Proving my idea right, I learn that anal with a goblin still makes her cum out of her pussy. The squirt of her warm green goo hits my thighs as she shakes around so much she almost falls off the bed. I have to grab her by the hair for her own safety as much as I do leverage. She wheezes as she finishes (might have been 30 seconds, or maybe a full minute, but hard to time that out in the middle of… ya know), and she pants “Bicka cummy!” she pleads, which sounds strangely desperate and sexy with her still too distracted to swallow my cum (or maybe she’s savoring it?).

>I decide to show off a little as I pull her hair and tell her “Bicka plook ab sebby untee.” She give this thrilled little shriek, as I basically told her “I’m cumming in my good/subservient bitch” in gobblish. I cum into her ass at last, and when I pull out, she’s an adorable, sticky mess. All of her holes are dripping with my and her cum (her nose dribbles with some, and I have to assure myself I didn’t go that far; she must have gagged it up there at some point). She’s got that big dizzy smile with her pointy teeth out, battering her eyes at me happily. “Scrappa made her Bicka all dirty,” I say with a smile, petting her head and stepping back in front of her. I stay close so he can sniff at my cock, nuzzling at my balls with her long nose and tongue like she’s trying to memorize my scent. “Scrappa dirty girl,” she giggles proudly.

>Nov 7th: Scrappa has gotten me a gift. I know I told her no stealing, so its sanitation is in question. It does look like it would fall apart in the wash, in truth. She told me she remembered something and ran off this morning after her breakfast. She came back and proudly handed over what was something like a goblin teddy bear. It's shoddily made, visibly mashed together with brute force, staples and glue (or other questionably sticky substances), with a quick layer of some sort of plastic around the would-be pointy bits. It's green fabric and pieces of old garbage bags, I think, and it has a slight crunch when you squeeze it. I think it's stuffed with moss and soft dirt. Its eyes are acorn caps stuck on with thumb tacks.

>Scrappa tells me it's her only toy. In gobblish (we're still in our hodgepodge language, but I favor gobblish at home; not like she'll be speaking to other people), the phrasing is dangerously close to "I wouldn't eat that if I were you." I ask her why she brought this, and she says quite proudly that she forgot about it.

>I mull this over a bit, but thank her and give her a kiss on the head. She snuggles my leg, and while I'm sitting down on the couch, it buries her face right into my crotch the way she likes. We fool around as usual while I do some work from home, and Scrappa ends up bouncing on my lap. "Did you forget about it too?" she asks eagerly

>We have to break things down a bit more basic for me to get her point of the doll. It was her only toy, and for a while, her only companion. She said she'd hold it and cuddle it when she was cold or lonesome without anyone around. She still seems to have no clue where her tribe went off to, and I don't pry about them much to keep her from getting depressed. The act of her giving it to me is not so much receiving it as it is her giving it up; she's not lonely anymore, and the idea of me forgetting it means that I'm not lonely while I'm with her

>"I forgot all about it," I assure her and kiss her ear. She snorts through that big cute nose and twitches when I do that, as usual. I end up asking her to do me a favor with my new prize...

>Scrappa gives me a little show with the goblin doll. She straddles it and rides it, humping its face and lap with rubbery little noises of her wet pussy rubbing over it. She keeps looking at me, giving her mating call of kissy noises while she plays with her breasts and bites her pouty lips. It's ridiculously sexy to see her play with the toy, which is still half the size of her. I watch her and stroke myself for her own little show before I come over and play with her breasts, letting her cum on her old toy. She spits on it for good measure, like one big, rude, final goodbye to it. "No more lonely, right?" I ask, scooping her up.

>"Nuh uh. Piji-Riti forever," she chirps and licks me up my cheek. Now, when I go back to work, I can't really keep a photo of Scrappa around. Way too many questions, even if I insist it's a big-tittied green niece. My niece's "art project," though, that's fair game. I smell enough like her that no one comments that it smells like wet rubber, candlewax, and honey (aka goblin cum).

>Nov 9th: goblins seem to have various aversions. I've been comparing my notes about Scrappa with Grandpa's, and there's definitely some weaknesses and seemingly instinctual responses built into goblins. This may be some collective memory sort of thing, but it seems like most of them have to do with a massive self-esteem issue experienced by every goblin. They know they're the dregs, the bottom of the monster food chain, and eternal scavengers. While none of these are a silver-to-a-werewolf level weakness, they're notable flaws.

-Cowardice. Goblins are huge fraidy cats. The big ears and strong sense of smell seem help with their paranoia, in more way than one. Unless we're deep in the house like the bedroom or the second floor, Scrappa gets very jumpy around loud noises. She screamed like it was doomsday when I accidentally set off my car alarm. When I got back inside, I found she had peed herself and then run screaming around the house. Not even in the evasive way like a squirrel would, mind you. She just ran in noisy little circles and ran into walls, making herself even easier to find than if she'd hid or even stood still. She had a similar reaction to when I cut myself cooking; shrieked like a banshee and ran around. No wonder all the other monsters conquer them so easily...

>Harmless. While a goblin's sneaky, stealthy, and has sharp little teeth and claws, that's about it. Scrappa's plump little body still has scrawny arms, and with no martial art or weapon training beyond playing in the woods, I think I could take at least 3 unarmed goblins by myself. They rely on numbers and ambushes to be effective at anything. The one time Scrappa got scared enough to hide behind a chair, I ended up dragging her out by the hair while she fought me in a panic. She bit and scratched me a few times, but it was nothing worse than my cousin's cat has done to me. She licked all the tiny cuts until they felt better afterward.

>Smell. Goblins are obsessed with smells. One of the first things Scrappa does whenever I get home is smell any part of me she can. Crotch, ass and neck/face seem to be her favorites, but she'll go for feet or underarm on occasion. Her marking her territory seems to be a part of this, as it leaves a familiar stench about that she can use to better discern foreign (aka clean) intruders. It makes them very easy to track, and if you don’t stay especially clean, odds are you’re less likely to be spotted

>Curiosity/Greed. Goblins have a sort of envious awe towards humans. We can do anything they can better, and much of their social structure and basic ideas have been stolen from humanity. I laid out some old cookies for bait when I first caught her, but she loves to poke and prod at anything new like it's made of gold. I probably could have baited that cage with a colored pencil and some rubber bands and caught her.

>Classical music. This was a weird one I didn't expect. Scrappa's done her happy dance a few times, and I've played some music for her. She loves stuff with a quick beat, so mostly hip hop, disco, and club/dance music gets her wiggling that giant booty. I left a playlist on for her while I did some more work, but it switched to Pachelbel's Canon. She sort of froze up for a minute and then started to whimper before she gave a long whine and curled up in an all out panic attack. It's like Mozart was her kryptonite. Maybe it's something with her ears, or more of that self-deprecation instinct (like they hate what's beautiful? no offense to rap fans). Maybe her body works so fast that it can't handle the slow melodies properly. She snapped out of it after about 5 seconds of silence, and looked confused but fine. I asked if something was wrong, and she just shook her head. "Ugly music," she muttered and spit on the floor. I've readied a "Scrappa Playlist" for her, but I've experimented with a few other songs for her. Opera seems to have the same affect, and especially slow modern songs seem to confuse her before kicking in. Basically, if you can't wildly dance to it, she doesn't want any part of it. If you can twerk to it, she adores it. If it's Baby Got Back, she acts like it's Christmas. I wonder if she thinks it's about her.

>Nov 10th: so good news and bad news. Good news is my job liked my work I did while the office was under repair. They're willing to let me work from home more often, and check in with them every week or two in person. More time for Scrappa!

>bad news is, my sister has finally got some free time. She's skipping some classes at college to go on a road trip and is stopping by the area to spend a night with me. This had to happen eventually... Scrappa is, let's face it, a long-term investment. If she'd understand the word girlfriend, I don't think it would mean as much to her as my being her "mate" and "never-leave." But my family's still my family. I did move out here to be more independent, but I'd have to tell somebody if I don't just hermit up and become the goblin king, right? Paige is coming by in a couple days, so I'll show her then. Wish us luck. The best I can hope for out of Scrappa at this point is to see if she’ll at least wear underwear….

>Nov 13th: well, Paige is alive, Scrappa's tucked in next to me, and I've learned how Scrappa reacts to people. When she pulled up, Scrappa was at least smart enough to bolt and hide rather than have one of her panic tantrums. I tried explaining to Scrappa what was going to happen the day before, but she seemed dismissive in a "Uh huh," kind of way. Maybe she didn't believe anyone else would actually enter her den.

>Paige and I hug it out before she comments on the smell. Says it smells like "a sour-apple tire fire." I start with showing her the journal and the stuff about the noises under the house. She's impressed that Grandpa was a monster hunter, so at least she seems more ready to believe it than I was. I finally call for Scrappa, who comes back into the room and looks pretty unhappy with my sister being there. It might be because of the pink skirt and black tanktop I got her to wear for today; they were supposed to look kind of cute, but I'd either underestimated her size or she was still growing, because they fit tight on her to squash up her boobs and ride up high on her hips. We'd also compromised by letting her run around outside to dirty them up a bit. By then, it made her look more like a tiny hooker.

>Paige was definitely shocked, but taking it well. I call Scrappa to sit in my lap to cool her off a little, and Paige has a lot of questions. Scrappa grumbled and hangs onto me tight, glaring daggers at Paige. Petting her hair seems to keep her calm for a while, and I fill in Paige on... most of it. I save the sex part and tell myself I'll admit it if she asks.

>A few minutes in, Scrappa starts to sniff at Paige. I hope it's her getting used to her, but she suddenly spits right on Paige's top. The greenish glob startles her (understandably) and she jumps off the couch. Scrappa spits a few more times in her direction, growling out "Too skinny" and "No titties" at her. She climbs a little higher up on my lap and takes my arm, forcing it around her waist and nipping at my hand, leaving little pinprick bite marks. Paige is too shocked to be properly mad, so I thankfully don't have a half-pint catfight on my hands. I give her a tug on the ear and a "Scrappa, no!", but she still huffily sucks and nibbles on my hand and grumbles "Mine." All I can think is to ask if Paige has a change of clothes, and not to bother just yet.

>Scrappa is clearly jealous. Paige sits on the other end of the couch, and Scrappa has a smug look to go with her glares now. She keeps leaning into my chest and nuzzling me. I'm at the point of explaining how I can't bathe her after the last time when Scrappa decides she's going to establish the pecking order; she starts to grind on my leg. Now subtle playful grind, but hard, noisy grinding, where she's moaning and squealing and mashing her breasts against me. I trust Scrappa's big hips to hide my erection while I finally tell Paige as clinically as possible that Scrappa has decided that I'm the alpha of the house.

>"Steve, are you fucking the goblin? Because that is hilarious."

>Leave it to Paige. I didn't give her shit when she came out of the closet, she makes fun of me when I sleep with a goblin. I bring out my own journal and start to fill her in on the details when she asks. As therapeutic as the journal has been on this whole thing, it's a load off to actually talk to someone about it. I've been blowing off coworkers and speaking fairly proficient gobblish for so long, that telling someone in English about the weird noises and smells that make her that much sexier is such a relief.

>Scrappa seems content now that Paige is staying back and I'm only touching my proper mate, but I draw the line when she tries to pull my dick out to show off as her trophy. I swat Scrappa's hands away, but turn her around to face away from me and start to finger her under the stretched out skirt. Paige looks curious, and at least a little impressed that I can carry on our conversation while still making Scrappa moan like that. The act is like driving a car by now; a little complicated, but so instinctual that I can get Scrappa to cum while I'm writing with my other hand.

>Scrappa loves to put on a show about it. She spreads her legs out farther than I've seen her go, and moans as she plays with her breasts. She keeps bouncing them up and down, maybe a kind of fertility taunt towards my slimmer sister. An "I'm better built for sex than you" kind of boast. Humans make flirty and catty comments; goblins slap their tits and hump legs.

>"So does she actually cum?" I can't blame Paige for being interested. I tug on Scrappa's ear and hiss in her ear and order her in some angry goblish. "You cum right now or never again." With her legs pulled so high and wide they almost touch her cheeks (and leaving the skirt utterly pointless), she curls her toes and squeals like a piglet just before she squirts through my fingers with that pungent honey in a burst that goes about two feet from the couch. She's still gushing when she grabs my wrist and keeps humping HARD. I feel her twitching like it's overloading her body, and can feel her back slapping into my as she forces herself to go on. She's barely stopped the first gush of her greenish goo when she hits a second. I feel her tiny pussy tense and squirts AGAIN, further than the first. Her little fingers move mine to stuff a third into her at an angle where her pussy starts to gape open a bit, baring the purple-pink inside.

>"Scrappa, no," I warn her gently, but she moans louder. "Gimme gimme... all mine!" She's clearly sweating and shaking weakly but pushing herself to her limits. It makes her ass grind over my dick, and her booty is tighter and squishier than ever now that it's crammed into her skirt. I'll have to see about dressup with her again later. But I can't help but forget about Paige long enough to cum in my pants, and Scrappa clearly feels it against her ass. She shakes and cums again, and despite her noisy thrashing, the orgasm comes out a weak trickle, as she's clearly not built to do that many that fast. She almost collapses into my chest, wheezing and twitching as she stares up at me with glassy eyes and her tongue hanging out of her mouth, her fresh, slimey cum on the carpet in front of us. It's as fucked silly as I've ever seen her.

>I just pet Scrappa gently, catching my breath myself before I notice Paige again. She's been watching with visible concentration. I expect her to storm out, though I had explained Scrappa was pretty much in constant heat. "Do you love this goblin?"

>Scrappa just gives me a stupid, witless grin. She probably can't hear us anyway. "I think I do. I love my Scrappa. Smells, slime and all." I scratch at her purple hair fondly as Paige laughs at me a little. She can tell. I end up putting Scrappa in bed while we go out for a quick dinner together. A rested Scrappa smells my crotch thoroughly when I'm back, but she doesn't act as agro towards Paige. Maybe her letting us mess around showed she wasn't a threat to us, or because Paige gives up some of her leftovers. There's a small guest room for her that we never use, and Paige teases about it being a good spot to keep our great grand-goblins. I'm just lucky Scrappa doesn't get the reference. Before we let her settle in, Paige adds that if nothing else, I should think what to do for Thanksgiving. The family's going to want me there, if nothing else.

>Nov 14: Paige left the house pretty quickly the next day. A quick breakfast, shower and a hug and she's out to meet her friends. Scrappa didn't seem to give her any more shit, but Paige breathes pretty deeply once she's out in the fresh air again. She sort of dismissed the whole goblin girlfriend thing. I apologize for the mess of things, and that Scrappa can be a real handful. Paige points out that she's much more than a handful, complete with gestures around her chest to emphasize her point. I admit that it's a little fucked up in hindsight, but she reminds me that mom and dad weren't big on her coming out didn't go over great for a while. She dismisses it all with one last line that she says with a weary sort of smile: "If you wanna be fucked up, be fucked up. Just so long as you're happy. Love you, Steve."

>Scrappa is glad to have me to herself again. As much as I kid about becoming a hermit as her goblin king, I'm sure that Scrappa would be absolutely content to have me and only me in her life. I'm not sure how much disagree with her.

>I do get a text a little before bed just to bust my chops a little more: "Still fuckin' that goblin?"

>I text Paige back. "I'm being happily fucked up, thank you" and set the phone down on the table, reaching over my naked, dozing goblin girl.

>Nov 15: I've tried to piece together exactly what it's like living with Scrappa. She's somewhere between living with a girlfriend, a pet, a servant, a child, and a horny homeless woman all at once. I feel like this morning was the most summarizing encounter I've had with her.

>I wake up to a pressure on my head. I first think headache, then I think there's a pillow that fell on my face when Scrappa ran out of bed. Instead, it's her sitting squarely on my face. I can feet her thighs braced on either side of my neck, and her little toes wiggling happily by my ears. She shifts her hips now and then, but isn't humping yet. I try to talk before bothering to lift her up, and it just opens my mouth to catch her plump little pussy and all its sticky juices

>"Wakey, Bicka!" she declares proudly when she feels my mouth moving beneath her. "Brekfizz in bed!"

>I give her a quick spank for misbehaving, but when that booty jiggles against my face I can't stay mad at her. My first act of the day is eating out her sludgy pussy and breathing in her round, musky ass. All the while she's cooing and bouncing, and thanking me everyway she can think as if this were my idea. If you ever need an ego boost, get a goblin girl. It took weeks to make her stop being curious why I haven't beat her around yet. She humps and jiggles on top of me until she squirts over my face, falling over comically as she loses her balance with all the vibrating. She ends up facing my feet, so I put an arm around her hips and smooch her on her ass. She kicks and giggles but doesn't try to escape. "Is that where Scrappa wants me to kiss her from now on? Is she bored of her lips now?"

>she laughs and squeals as I tease her, and tells me she couldn't wait. I finally let her go so she can turn around and lick up her mess from my face. Even with the mix of goblin spit and cum on my face, I don't feel like getting in the shower today. Scrappa must be rubbing off on me, literally and figuratively. But then, when you girlfriend has an ass like that but an aversion to water, sacrifices need to be made.

>Nov 15, afternoon. Q&A with Scrappa. I showed her some of Grandpa's books. She can't read any of them, but the pictures and my reading aloud help. She recognizes a number of the monsters he sketched, making his stories that much more believable. That, or goblins had the same fairy tales that we did. I'm recording a few tidbits here; I don't have the guts to deface the old books with my shitty handwriting and Scrappa's questionable advice

>Trolls. Big ugly fuckers with aversions to sunlight, fire, and most things religious. Scrappa's never met one, but says they're scary because despite how big they are, they can squish into just about anywhere. Goblins have a saying of "troll pile," which is just everyone climbing on somebody for warmth or casual torment. It's apparently the way of appeasing a troll by a bunch of goblins literally climbing onto his dick to squeeze and suck from all sides

>Witches. Scrappa says that goblins think the first goblins were made by witches. I realize that after some probing questions, goblins don't have a word or concept for gods. She laughs at the idea of anything that powerful caring enough to create something as tiny and forgettable as a goblin. I decide to hug her extra tight after that one.

>Skeletons. She says they're delicious and don't move very much, so I think she missed the point

>Fairies. Little insectoid women. Scrappa immediately flips out when she sees these, but in delight. Apparently fairies have some kind of natural aphrodisiac effect on goblins. Their goblish word means "horny flies," but I'm not sure what a super horny Scrappa would be like, if this is supposed to be her normal. She just coos and bats her eyes at me instead of answering

>I'm learning more about goblins than I am the other monsters, and most of them she hasn't encountered in person, just told stories about. I think I have a decent grasp on goblins, but there's one thing she's talked about that I think I need to explore just in case... goblin babies

>I have to literally hold down Scrappa when I ask about goblin babies. She’s so excited that she babbles and runs around in circles until I catch her by her puffy, dirty hair and tie her hold her feet together. She bounced and giggled and wiggles her hips expectantly, but I tell her it’s not time for “rub rubs”... yet. She hasn’t had any herself, naturally, being fairly young for a goblin (she can’t count well enough to remember how old, naturally). It sounds like they’re more or less how humans operate, but much easier and quicker. Goblins breed, grow and heal rapidly enough that it sounds like a goblin is independently functional and breedable after about six months, and fully matured by 1 year. Goblin babies come out tiny enough to fit in your hand, and come in litters of more than ten at a time (Scrappa just held up all her fingers for that one). The “pups” nurse a while, but grow their teeth within weeks and can eat solid foods any time after that. They tend to take care of themselves, but pregnant she-goblins get “mother thoughts.” Apparently the ONLY time in ANY goblin’s life when they’re reasonably responsible or intelligent is when they are about to or just had kids, and even then just for their pups. A normal goblin would just lose track of them and their species would be done.

> I ask why she wants babies, since they were all she talked about at first. She buries her face in my crotch, snaking her tongue into the hole in the crotch and mewls “Cuz want more of Bicka. Love Bicka, and love Bicka’s big humper.” My heart melts, but my dick is diamonds.

>Nov 17: the rare day when I have to go to work. I promised Scrappa that if she’s good and doesn’t make any messes, I’ll bring her a bunch of presents. She’s bounced up and down (all parts of her do too) at the idea and I hoped it hadn’t just made her more hyper and become a self-dooming prophecy. I keep considering if I should get her a phone to check up on her, but I assume she’d either break it, eat it, or not understand how to work it. All three at once are pretty likely.

>I swing by a thrift store in town and the house is pretty tidy, all things considered. She made a crude stack of the books I never got around to reading (between the monster logs and Scrappa’s neediness), which I think was her trying to clean up. She’s seeing how many baby carrots she can fit in her mouth at once when she sees me, swallows them all and runs up to me. “Bicka brought giimme’s!” she cheers. I dump out the contents of the bag on the coffee table so she can’t immediately tear into them, since that’s the opposite of what I have in mind. She sniffs and peeks at th'em while I unfold a little tanktop and tell her we’re going to play dressup

>I got a bunch of clothes that looked like they’d fit Scrappa, which was a challenge but fairly cheap. It’s all a crazy mix of plus-sized bras and the young girls section. Basically anything potentially sexy and on the cheap, because I’m confident that Scrappa will stretch or destroy almost anything I get her. I also make sure to have the camera up on my cell whenever she changes, because I have no idea if I’ll ever convince her that clothes are a good idea ever again.

>I start her with basics, and I have to help her get into a sundress, bra and panties. She pulls at the underwear a lot, like she’s not used to something properly covering her crotch, but I tell her she looks like a pretty girl and she gets all proud and embarrassed. She has fun posing for the camera and flashing up her skirt to show me the panties, as if she’s especially proud to wear those. Every time she hugs or plays with her breasts, that soft green skin just floods over the edges. She sees I especially like that, so I end up taking some pictures of her popping her big green mams out, smiling and winking at the camera while she titfucks me. The bra’s as stretched as expected, but at least I have a secret stash on my phone of Scrappa giving me the “v for victory” fingers with cum all over her face and tits

>we mess around with a few other things. I put her in an apron only, which does well for showing off her bubble butt sticking out the back. She’s better with the hot pink bikini than she is with the underwear, maybe because the whole thing covers a lot less. The top has her areolas poking out, and between her chubby pussy and ass, the thong… might as well not be there. I give her a little button up blouse and a mini skirt with some non-prescription glasses, and she seems to like the tiny secretary look, even if she keeps playing with the glasses on her broad nose. She seems okay with sandals, but says she wants to save them for outside. We tried high heels, but she can’t stay up for more than a few steps before she falls over. She finds it hilarious. The jeans are tight on her and look great, but she doesn’t seem to like anything that long. Maybe something with her pores needing to breathe, or the grease on her skin getting soaked up? We try some short overalls, and she seems to not mind those since her boobs are only really covered by the shoulder straps

>Scrappa absolutely loves her last outfits. One’s an old set of lingerie, a lucky find at the shop. It’s a soft pink, and came with garters to go with some stockings we managed to yank up to her mid-thigh. Its bustline’s a perfect match for her as it barely covers what it needs to while still jiggling around inside when she shakes her shoulders. But her last one is what really blows her mind

>purple tube top, some clip-on earrings, black lipstick, bandana around her head, and apink thong poking out from her shorts. The low booty shorts ride up her ass with “Spank it” across the upper part.  Remember how much Scrappa likes rap music? Apparently the look rubbed off on her somehow. She kept trying to eat the lipstick until I forced her mouth open and worked from there, but she actually gasped when I showed her a photo of herself. She keeps licking her lips, probably liking that oily feel. I take her ears and pop on the costume jewelry, and she shrieks when she sees them. “Goblin queen! Goblin queen!” she cheers, bouncing up and down on the bed. Apparently she has a thing for shinies.

>She starts posing without my asking. I think it’s because she’s become kind of trained to it from the photoshoot, but she keeps scrambling over to look at the pics. It’s sexy as hell to let her bend over to show off her ass and tits, making kissy faces with her big painted lips, and tug her shorts down enough to show off her cameltoe, but there’s something else to it. I have never seen Scrappa so proud of herself. She actually says “Scrappa pretty!” when she sees the pics. Sometimes it’s shocked, sometimes it’s just happy. She gives me an affectionate lick on the cheek between shots. I even end up turning on some of her favorite songs and recording a short videos of her stripperific dance. She even turns on all fours and wiggles her bottom as she says “Spang it, Bicka!” I’m impressed that she’s starting to learn how to read, even if it’s not exactly Hop On Pop (phrasing).

>It’s clear this has done wonders for her self esteem. It might just be human psychology; like how they tell you to dress for success and don’t just leave the house in sweatpants all the time. Not all of the clothes survived, since she clawed her way out of the jeans (maybe she’d wear them now that they’re torn? Convert to shorts?). I keep them in one of the spare dressers, since I don’t want to risk her wanting them and tearing through my closet. She ends up wearing her ghetto outfit all day (Scrappa just calls it bereeza, her “war paint”), but we end the session with her licking her lips again. “Feels funny,” she giggled. “Bicka wanna feel Scrappa lips?”

>I’ll need a shower after this one for sure, even if she’s very proud of seeing me with her big black lipstick marks all over my thighs, cock and balls

>Nov 18: I’m putting off my decision for Thanksgiving with the family. I’m giving them a vague yes, but I keep trying to prep Scrappa for the idea. It’s about 3 hours either way, so it’s most of a whole day to do it. She is definitely not happy with me even discussing it. She looks variously worried, or downright scared, and bites her lip a lot. I realize she hasn’t spent a night alone in over a month, even if it was the main reason I came out here in the first place. Except for work, she hasn’t really left my side for more than about a half hour, and that’s if I’m out doing work in the yard or go shopping; something where she needs to keep out of sight.

>speaking of, I did address one thing: can Scrappa deal with cars? Short answer is yes. She scampered around the back seat and sniffed everything. Despite her messy looks and the smell in the house, I don’t think my car’s been cleaner than since Scrappa got into it. She’s like some kind of car symbiote: she just got into every crack and ate every loose fry, piece of granola bar, or loose change she could find. She makes little growling noises once in awhile when I accelerate, like she’s copying the car (or threatening it back?), and she looks amusingly hot with a seatbelt stuffed between her giant boobs. However, she can slip in and out of them easily enough, so she kind of gets everywhere. This does prove useful when we discover road head together. She just slips between my legs and I do all I can to focus on the road. It gets into the more windy forest roads, so I end up having to pull into a side road let her finish. It’s that much more distracting that she still purrs “Vroom vrooooom” once in awhile, making her teeth and tongue vibrate against my cock until I squirt inside her

continued https://luffy316.blogspot.com/2017/01/goblin-diaries-part-3.html