Adventures of Cocweasel

The short green goblin raced hurriedly down the stairs of the Tower of Doom, home of the wicked sorceress Valeria. The ugly little creature’s name was Cockweasel and he was the slave of the malevolent magic user. Cockweasel had always lusted after the lovely sorceress and when he had discovered Valeria unconscious in the top-most room of her tower he had been unable to resist raping her mouth whilst she lay there powerless to resist. Knowing that if she awoke and realized what he had done he would be a dead goblin, he had decided to flee.

Cockweasel was almost at the bottom when he crashed into something, there was a loud metallic clang and the goblin feel back onto the stairs in a daze.

He looked up in horror to see a tall figure in front of him, dressing in shiny silver armor that gleamed with a dangerously holy light. In the knights hand was a long, vicious looking sword. Cockweasel looked up in fright as the sword ominously rose in his direction.

“Bugger!” swore Cockweasel softly. Now he was screwed.

The pale blue eyes that Cockweasel could see through the eye-slit of the knights helm narrowed slightly as the knight’s sword drew back for the deathblow.

“Wait!” squealed Cockweasel, holding his hands up protectively, although he knew they would do little to stop the imminent attack. “Don’t kill me! I stopped the sorceress! I’m not a bad guy!” he shrieked, desperately pleaded for his miserable life.

The knight seemed to hesitate so Cockweasel continued, “I’m innocent!” The goblin’s mind raced, trying to think of something that would save his life. “I only came here ‘cause the sorceress enslaved my family, I’ve killed her. You’ve got to save me!” as far as he knew Valeria had choked on his cum so he may be telling at least some truth.

The knight reached up and opened the visor of her helmet. To Cockweasel’s shock the knight was a female. And a remarkably beautiful one at that. A few stray locks of golden hair that hung from her helm framed her finely featured face.

“You’re a woman!” blurted Cockweasel in surprise.

“The sorceress is dead?” said the knight, ignoring Cockweasel’s comment.

“Y..yes,” Cockweasel said in a stammer, trying to look as scared as he could.

The knight’s pretty eye’s narrowed slightly. “You’re not one of Valeria the Black minions?” she demanded.

Cockweasel hurried shook his head. “No, not me. I’d never serve that black-hearted bitch. You’ve got to help me get out of here!”

After a moment’s consideration, the knight seemed to accept his word. “Follow me,” she instructed, closing the front of her helm once again and starting down the steps. Cockweasel hurried after her as fast as his short legs would carry him.

They reached the bottom of the tower and stepped out into the night. The knight had a powerful looking, pure white warhorse waiting and she mounted up.

“You’re free goblin,” she told him. “I thank you for saving me the task of dispatching the vile sorceress myself.”

Cockweasel looked around at the wilderness slightly nervously. Valeria had told him the land was very perilous, filled with dangerous wild animals and even more dangerous men. It had probably been just stories to discourage him from attempting to escape, but the idea of venturing alone into the night didn’t sit too well with the little goblin.

“You’re not going to leave me alone are you?” he said to the knight, trying to look as pathetic as possible.

“You can’t come with me,” the knight said. “I travel back to my king in Alastriel City.”

“Please!” begged Cockweasel, falling to his knees and clenching his hands together pleadingly. “I’ll die out here. Let me travel with you.”

The knight glared down at him from behind her helm.

“I can be your servant, please I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave me out here to die!”

“Very well,” the knight said at last. She reached down and offered her hand to the pitiful little creature. Cockweasel took hold of her steel gauntlet as she lifted him up behind her, onto the back of her white warhorse.

“Thank you Master,” Cockweasel gratefully told her as he gripped the sides of her steel breastplate fearfully. He’d never been on horseback before and it looked like a long way down if he fell.

“Gwyneth,” the knight corrected him as she spurred her steed into motion. “Lady Gwyneth d’Lambert, paladin of the Holy Church of Alastriel.”

“Cockweasel’s my name, Lady Gwyneth” the goblin replied.

“Codweasel?” she repeated as they rode away from the Tower of Doom.

“Cockweasel.”

“Oh,” she replied. “Well Cockweasel, my camp is an hour’s ride from here, we should reach it just before midnight.”

“Ow!” Cockweasel said suddenly.

“What is it?” Gwyneth asked, a tone of concern in her voice that Cockweasel had never heard from Valeria.

“Just your armor is sharp,” he replied, doing his best to cling to her back as they rode at a gallop away from the tower.

“It’s not for long,” the beautiful paladin assured him. They rode on in silence to where Gwyneth had made camp. By the time they reached it Cockweasel, unaccustomed to riding, was in agony, his legs aching from straddling the horse and his body bruised from clinging tightly to the armored knight. The camp consisted of little more than a fire and bedroll, but Cockweasel was very grateful to finally reach it.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Gwyneth said as she dismounted and helped the goblin down from the horse. “You get some sleep. You must be exhausted.”

Cockweasel didn’t argue. He practically collapsed onto the bedroom and within seconds was snoring loudly, the evening’s excitement having drained him completely.

Gwyneth paused a moment to watch the sleeping creature. He was a strange one that was for sure. Most goblins Gwyneth had come across were vile little monsters, showing little intelligence, usually either fleeing from her or attacking her. Cockweasel seemed smarter than those she had met, and the fact he had actually slain the sorceress suggested she had also been taken by surprise by his intelligence.

The paladin unsaddled and brushed down her warhorse as Cockweasel snored loudly on her bedroll. She then got out of her heavy armor and into a loose tunic and pants. As she sat down by the rapidly dwindling fire she glanced over at Cockweasel. He must be having a good dream, as his little green penis was fully erect, poking up from under his meager loincloth.

Gwyneth blushed slightly and looked away. They would have to do something about his clothing if she was going to take him through any towns. Creatures such as goblins and orcs, although not exactly liked, were accepted in most towns and not all that uncommon. The kingdom had a wide assortment of cultures and races and when visiting a town you could bump into anything from a goblin, to a majestic elf, to a stout dwarf or even on rare occasions a rough looking troll or ogre. So long as they didn’t cause any trouble most races were accepted in the cities of the kingdom.

Gwyneth decided to give Cockweasel a little extra sleep and waited until only a couple hours before dawn to wake the sleeping goblin. “Your turn on watch,” she whispered as she shook him awake.

Cockweasel woke up with a start. “Huh?” he said as he looked up at the pretty woman through bleary sleep-filled eyes. Without her armor on Gwyneth looked even more beautiful. She had long golden blonde hair that stretched midway down her back, and although her loose clothing disguised it she had a slim, fit body.

“You take the watch now,” Gwyneth repeated. “Wake me at sunrise.”

Cockweasel nodded as the knight lay down on the bedroll and closed her eyes. He went over and stirred up the last ashes of the fire and crouched down beside it. He could hardly believe he was free of the wicked Valeria at last. It had been quite a night. Cockweasel briefly wondered on the fate of the sorceress. Was she even alive? If she was Cockweasel would have loved to see the expression on her face when she woke up with a mouthful of his cum. Actually on second thoughts perhaps he’d rather not be around.

The goblin glanced over at his savior. Gwyneth looked very peaceful, lying on her side and sleeping soundly. Cockweasel couldn’t help but admire the womanly curve of her waist and the gentle rise and fall of what looked like a rather generous bosom. It had been hard to tell under all that steel she wore, but she was actually a very sexy woman.

Licking his lips, Cockweasel quietly moved closer to Gwyneth, the sleeping paladin didn’t stir as he crouched down at her side. Cockweasel studied her peaceful face for a moment and then reached out and stroked the back of his rough knuckles across her soft cheek. Gwyneth murmured softly in her sleep but didn’t awaken. Feeling a little bolder, Cockweasel traced one fingertip around her full lips, being careful not to scrape her with his sharp fingernail. As he touched her mouth he couldn’t help but remember the fun he had with his former Master, Valeria. His cock stiffened slightly.

As much as he would have loved to have felt her warm mouth around his penis, Cockweasel knew that Gywneth’s sleep was not deep enough for him to get away with something like that. Instead, he gently traced his finger over the swell of her right breast. Her tits seemed big, perhaps as large as Valeria’s. Eager to explore further, Cockweasel carefully hooked his finger into the collar of the slumbering knight’s tunic. He pulled it out from her body so that he could peek down the front. Valeria’s breasts were bare beneath, rising and falling as she slept. Cockweasel could not help but omit a moan as he gazed upon her large naked breasts. They looked so warm and soft, topped by pink nipples that Cockweasel wished he could suck on as he had with Valeria’s.

Pushing his luck to the limit, Cockweasel pulled her clothing out further and slipped his other hand down inside the front of her tunic. He moaned as his cool hand closed over one of Gwyneth’s ample breasts, the firm mound more than filling his palm. She’s not quite as busty as Valeria, but very close, Cockweasel decided as he cautiously gave her tit a squeeze. The lecherous goblin slid his hand over to Gwyneth’s other tit, cupping it in his palm and feeling it’s warmth.

“Nice,” he whispered softly as he squeezed her other boob.

“Mmm,” Valeria moaned sharply in her sleep and Cockweasel jerked his hand out of her top, almost knocking her chin in the process. He released her tunic and scurried back to the fire, if she woke and found his feeling her up he didn’t like to think what would happen.

Cockweasel rubbed his throbbing crotch and shuffled closer to the fire. Perhaps another time he would have a better opportunity to explore the pretty blonde knight.

Cockweasel lay down on his side and closed his eyes, just wanting to rest his heavy eyelids for a moment. When he opened his eyes again Lady Gwyneth was towering above him.

“Fall asleep on guard duty?” she asked him. As she stepped aside the sunlight she had been blocking streamed down onto Cockweasel’s eyes, blinding him momentarily as he struggled to adjust to the bright light. Goblin’s at the best of times preferred the dark, and the sudden shock of bright light gave Cockweasel an immediate pounded headache.

“Come on, get up,” Gwyneth urged him as she finished saddling up her horse. “We’re moving out. I want to reach the village of Crompton by evening and thanks to you we’re already an hour behind schedule.”

Cockweasel grunted as he sat up. He glanced down at his grubby loincloth and saw that he had morning wood as usual, his grubby green cock poking out from the even dirtier piece of material he wore. He looked over at Valeria and saw her preparing to don her heavy steel armor, Cockweasel winced at the memory of the sharp hard steel rubbing against him as they rode.

“Do you have to wear that?” he asked with a grimace.

Gwyneth turned to him in surprise, “My armor?”

“Yeah, it hurts me when we ride.”

Gwyneth considered for a moment, “I guess I can leave it off for now, ‘till we get you a horse anyway. We should be able to buy one in Crompton.”

“That’d be great,” Cockweasel eagerly thanked her.

Instead of getting into her armor she strapped it into the saddlebags of her warhorse and mounted up. Gywneth then reached down and helped Cockweasel up behind her. The little goblin hugged close to her, no longer hindered by her metal armor. Gwyneth frowned as she felt something hard poking into her posterior from behind.

“What’s that poking me?” she asked in discomfort.

“Erm…” Cockweasel sounded a little abashed. “Morning wood,” he said in a muffled tone.

“Oh,” replied Gwyneth, a little embarrassed herself now as well.

The paladin spurred her horse on its way as Cockweasel snuggled in behind her, grinding his hard cock into her ass a little. Gwyneth almost wished she had worn her armor after all, and briefly wondered if the horny little goblin had an ulterior motive when he suggested she didn’t wear it.

They rode for several hours without rest, Cockweasel remained pushed up against Gwyneth from behind, hugging her tightly as his cock nestled soundly between her firm buttocks, insinuating itself nicely into the crack of her ass and remaining hard. The goblin imagined what Gwyneth must look like from the front, her heavy tits unrestrained by armor and no doubt jiggling delightfully. Unable to help himself, as the mental image of the knight’s breasts entered his mind, one of his hands stole up from around her waist and cupped Gwyneth’s ample right breast through her loose tunic. The paladin didn’t notice the grope at first, but when Cockweasel gave the large melon a squeeze, Gwyneth gasped in surprise. She looked down to see his green hand clenched over her tit and she immediately pried his hand free.

Gwyneth reined in the horse at that point and dismounted.

“Time for a rest break,” she told him, her gaze not meeting his eyes.

After a short break they remounted and continued on their way. They had gone less than a mile when once again Cockweasel’s grubby little hand stole up and closed over Gwyneth's heavy breast. The paladin clenched her teeth to suppress her angry and immediately peeled his hand off and brought it back to her waist. Cockweasel moaned a little and nestled his crotch harder in against Gwyneth’s shapely ass, letting the motion of the horse grind him against her.

For the rest of the afternoon, every half an hour or so Cockweasel’s busy little hand would find it’s way back up to Gwyneth’s boobs, and every time she would pry his hand away. Finally, on about the tenth time she gave up and just let the horny goblin squeeze her breast. For the last hour of their journey both of Cockweasel’s hands were closed over Gwyneth’s tits, squeezing and kneading at the abundant melons whilst the noble paladin did her best to ignore them. The sooner they got Cockweasel his own horse, the better!

The odd pair of traveling companions reached Crompton just before dusk. Lady Gwyneth gratefully pulled her goblin travel companion’s hands from her bosom and dismounted.

“Let’s get you sorted for some clothes before we find an inn to spend the night,” she told Cockweasel as she helped him down from the horses back. As soon as Cockweasel’s feet hit the dirt he started to rub his aching inner thighs and balls.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” he yelped. Gwyneth couldn’t help but smile at his display, at least she wasn’t the only one who had found the journey uncomfortable.

“Come on,” she said impatiently, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him in the direction of the tailor’s shop.

“What can I do for you m’Lady?” asked the tailor politely as they entered his shop. The tailor was a tall, very skinny man with a large bulbous nose and a bushy moustache.

“We’re after some clothing,” Gwyneth said, she gestured down towards Cockweasel. “For him.”

The tailor noticed Cockweasel for the first time and looked down at him. When he saw that Gwyneth was referring to a goblin his face immediately showed distaste. “Oh,” he said in surprise, his expression made him look like he had just taken a bite from a very sour lemon. “A Goblin. Well I’m not sure if we have anything for his kind.”

Gwyneth ignored the man’s obvious revulsion. “Anything will do, as you can see he’s not exactly dressed to travel through towns.”

The tailor nodded, staring down his nose at Cockweasel. The little goblin scowled up at the tailor, the man’s disgust not unnoticed. Cockweasel reached up and picked his nose, just to piss the rude tailor off further.

“Well,” the tailor sighed, deciding he wanted the pair out of his shop as quickly as possible. “I think I have some children’s clothing around somewhere that should fit.”

“Anything will be fine,” Gwyneth agreed, giving the man the most winning smile she could muster under the circumstances.

The tailor gave a curt nod and then moved over to a pile of clothes stacked up in a dusty corner of the shop. He searched through the pile for a few minutes before pulling out a pair of bright red pantaloons and a fluffy white blouse that looked like it was made for a little girl.

“Is that all you have?” Cockweasel said, eyeing up the clothing dubiously.

The tailor ignored the goblin and handed the clothing to Gwyneth.

“Thank you,” Gwyneth replied. “That will do just fine.”

She passed the clothing down to Cockweasel and at her instruction the grubby little goblin tried them on. He stripped off his loincloth and Gwyneth immediately averted her eyes from the thick green penis that hung between his legs. Although quite small compared to a fully-grown man, it seemed bigger attached to his small body.

Cockweasel pulled on the red pants and white blouse, scowling the whole time. Once he was fully dressed he noisily cleared his throat and Gwyneth turned to look at him.

The busty paladin had to stifle a laugh as she looked at the little goblin. He looked quite comical in the children’s clothes. The bright pants coming down to just below his knee’s and looked quite tight around the crotch. The white blouse had a fluffy lace collar that pointed up around his ears and he had only half buttoned it up, leaving his green chest sticking out.

“I look like a friggin’ elf!” he complained.

Gwyneth smiled at her new companion. “You look very handsome,” she assured him.

Cockweasel glowered at her, biting his bottom lip as he failed to think of a clever retort.

Gwyneth scooped up his grubby loincloth and handed it to the tailor. “Take care of this will you good tailor,” she said as she once again took Cockweasel by the hand and led him from the shop as if he was a child.

The tailor gingerly gripped the filthy loincloth between his thumb and finger, “I think I’ll burn it,” he said in a half-whisper as they left his shop.

Gwyneth led Cockweasel to the large tavern that was right in the center of the village of Crompton. Had Cockweasel been able to read he would have seen the sign above the door read ‘The Tavern of the Laughing Dog’.

Inside it was rather busy. About two dozen travelers and local farmers will all enjoying either a hot meal or a cold ale. There were four buxom serving wenches that circulated the common room, each with a large jug filled with ale that they used to refill the men’s mugs. Every so often one of the men would give the serving girls a swat across the ass or even a pinch, and they actually spent more time dodging groping hands than pouring ale.

Gwyneth approached the bar, where a portly, balding man dressed in a grubby white apron was serving drinks. As the lovely knight came closer he gave her a warm grin. “Evening ma’am, a room for yourself and your son?” he asked. He leant over the bar with a big smile, intended for Gwyneth’s son. When he caught sight of not a human boy, but an ugly little goblin his face paled. “Oh,” was all he said.