A fierce struggle ensued as the two goblins locked horns over the "prize".
One lunged forward, swinging his crude wooden sword with enough force to split logs.
The other parried clumsily, the impact jarring its small arms.
They grappled briefly, teeth bared, before being thrown apart by mutual blows.
One managed to kick the other in the gut, doubling it over in pain.
But the standing goblin didn't wait; it brought the flat of its blade down onto the fallen creature's skull, cracking bone.
Crack!
The dazed goblin flailed weakly, trying to rise, but the other jumped on top of it.
A frenzy of stabbing rained down into its chest and abdomen.
Warm blood pooled rapidly around them.
Finally, the survivor stood panting over the corpse, raising its weapon high for a final taunt scream.
Lyssandra watched from the sidelines, a satisfy smile hanged on her face
"I didn't even know this could happen. Beauty can kill, I guess," she thought with amusement.
The surviving goblin let out a triumphant squeal, its muddy face smeared with gore.
It spotted Lyssandra sitting against the wall.
With drool dripping from its lips and that lewd look returning to its eyes, it lumbered forward, stepping over its dead companion.
Its hand reached out, fingers clawing at the air as if already grasping her waist.
Then, just as it was about to make contact, a Fireball exploded right behind it.
The sphere of heat struck its back first.
Instantly, the hair on its scalp curled and blackened, smoking.
Skin blistered within seconds, bubbling up before bursting open in rivulets of hot fat and grease.
The smell of charred flesh filled the corridor instantly, thick and cloying.
The goblin shrieked, thrashing wildly, its movements spasmodic and uncoordinated.
Flames licked hungrily across its body, fusing clothes to skin, melting muscle.
Internal organs began to steam under the intense heat.
Eyes boiled over, popping with wet pops.
Tongue curled inside its mouth, swelling until it tore through its jawbone.
It tried to scream again, but the vocal cords were cooked shut, turning the sound into a gurgling choke.
The goblin collapsed, twitching violently.
Its core remained intact, so it wasn't dead yet, but every nerve was firing agony signals.
Lyssandra stood up slowly, watching the spectacle of flesh roasting alive.
"I am… enjoying this? Impossible, but why am I feeling this right now?"
A feeling so raw, powerful, and primal permeated her body.
Her eyes couldn't leave the burning goblin torch on the ground.
When she was about to pull down her pants, she noticed the other supposedly dead creature still twitching.
She cast a glance over it and realized it was still alive, though for perhaps not much longer.
At the death's door, a big bulge had formed below its waist—a stiffening erection despite the mutilation.
"Interesting. I think I can experiment with this," she said with a hot breath escaping her lips.
Undressing her clothes, her full body stood naked to the world.
The mangled, half-head-smashed corpse lay there, chest caved in, still spasming.
The one intact eye traced the godly beauty standing before it.
Then Lyssandra canceled [Slime Mimicry] on her penis.
With a wet schlop sound that sent waves of pleasure through her core, her organ plopped out of her pussy.
It quickly regained its intimidating and angry appearance.
Thick veins pulsed beneath the stretched skin.
Its head nestled comfortably between her massive, jiggling breasts as it swayed freely.
"I'm coming, little goblin," she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy and arousal.
"I think I can die happy now," the goblin thought frantically.
He closed his eyes and imagined the soft, wet inside of the female vagina when she finally pulled down his pants.
A meager 10 cm green dick plopped back and forth in front of her face.
"Ahh~ How cute. Look at this tiny thing," she said.
She trailed her finger from the base of the goblin's dick up to the swollen tip.
The pleasure was too much; the goblin's eye snapped open wide.
He struggled violently between the searing burning sensation of dying and the overwhelming lust about to erupt from within him.
Lyssandra moved faster.
She quickly squeezed her hand tightly at the base of his dick, preventing the hot cum from his balls from reaching the tip.
"Not too fast," she whispered, a sadistic smile playing on her lips.
With her other hand, she began stroking the goblin's dick rhythmically.
Simultaneously, she held his cock's base firmly to prevent him from cumming too soon.
Smoke wafted up from their surroundings, thick and choking.
The heat of her body and the fire radiating around them created a stifling, sweaty atmosphere.
His breathing grew ragged and shallow, sputtering between burnt air and desperate need.
His hips bucked involuntarily, trying to ride her palm, seeking friction against the gloom of death.
Every stroke brought him closer to oblivion, yet the pinch of her fingers denied the release he craved.
His remaining muscle twitched, sweat mixing with soot and blood on his brow.
The orgasm built up like a dam breaking, pressure swelling until his testicles ached, ready to explode.
Yet Lyssandra held firm, teasing the edge of his climax again and again.
He couldn't let go.
He couldn't finish.
Just trapped there, suspended between eternal pleasure and the finality of ash.
After what felt like an eternity, the goblin kept whimpering.
Blood choked his throat, making each breath rattle painfully.
His single remaining eye glared daggers at Lyssandra, bloodshot and wild.
His balls swelled with an angry purple hue, matching the engorged flesh of his clutched dick.
If looks could kill, he would have murdered himself a thousand times before daring to lay a hand on this demon incarnate creature.
"Is it time?" she asked softly, almost pityingly.
Then, with a final, wicked stroke, she released her clamping hand at the base of his dick.
The goblin's eyes rolled back in his head.
His mouth spurted out blood mixed with white foam.
His entire body spasmed uncontrollably, muscles jerking as life drained away.
A massive amount of sperm rushed out from his abused cock.
It sprayed upward like a high-pressure water fountain, hitting everything in its path—the walls, the floor, her skin.
Lyssandra quickly brought her hands together, forming a cupped basin beneath the stream.
Her tongue stretched out long and slender.
With luscious lips parting wide, she eagerly sipped the warm semen from her caught palms, letting the thick fluid coat her tongue and throat.
She hummed with delight, savoring every drop of the dying creature's essence.
"This feels good," she thought, licking her fingers clean of residue.
The goblin had been cumming non-stop for two whole minutes before finally ceasing.
His one remaining eye went blank, lifeless.
He could die now.
He could go to a better place now, away from this wicked dungeon and this devil herself.
Just as he was about to close that last eye into eternal sleep, a hard smack against his cheek jerked him awake.
He couldn't believe his own life force—that stubborn vitality kept him alive this long through pain and torment.
"We are not done yet," Lyssandra said, a grin stretching wide enough to reach her ears.
Plop.
Something soft yet heavy smacked against the goblin's battered stomach.
He looked down and saw it.
A snake-like monster, thick and phallic, almost reaching half his own height.
It wiggled hungrily, slick with anticipation.
She slowly withdrew her real penis and replaced it with the slime form, pushing it lower and lower toward his entrance.
The goblin's eye followed with horror etched deep into his expression.
His pupil dilated until it was nothing more than a pinpoint of light.
He tried to shake his head violently, frantic tears mixing with sweat.
He begged silently, lips quivering as he formed mute pleas.
But there was no escape.
His anal sphincter clenched tightly, trembling in dread.
Dread turned to agony as the soft tip brushed against his hole.
Then it pressed harder.
Stretched skin screamed under the invasion.
He kicked out his legs uselessly.
Foam bubbled from his lips again.
With a wet squelch, the massive slime cock breached the tight ring of muscle.
The goblin howled, a sound torn between human scream and animalistic misery.
Lyssandra held him steady, feeling the stretch of his flesh giving way to her desire.