mean-green-dean
SCIENCE FICTION FANTASY

Mean Green Dean

Mean Green Dean

by chntiixx
19 min read
4.86 (4800 views)
adultfiction

Mive always took a sneaky shortcut in and out of town.

It saved a couple minutes, so why wouldn't he?

That's the reason he would tell anyone who asked, but it wasn't the truth. It

did

save a couple minutes, but that meant little when the trek to the next town over was an hour at least. The real reason was what his shortcut led him to pass.

At the edge of town was the one and only goblin academy in the surrounding miles of green plains. Years ago, when diplomatic relations between humans and goblins appeared to be promising, a great effort had been put into various prestigious, beautiful structures. Of course, after the, ahem...

incident

, human views on goblins rapidly dropped, and now the academy's existence itself was a matter of controversy within the town.

The academy was one of these such structures. It was a flawless combination of detailed, grand human architecture and the pleasantly chaotic tendencies of goblins.

The building itself wasn't the reason he liked to pass nearby, though. It was what occurred within its walls.

Look, Mive wasn't a pervert, alright? But the stories about the fall of the King were interesting. The Royal Crest would claim they were baseless rumours, of course, that the King had merely suffered an unknown incident.

But as the stories told, the King had met a Queen. Although she wasn't a queen at first - she was a lonesome goblin girl wandering the lands. The stories say that, inexplicably, the King had hired her. To improve diplomatic relations, he had said. To show trust, he had claimed.

Yet rumour has it that, as the sun crept below the line of the horizon, the guards would hear noises within the King's chambers. Sultry noises. Husky whispers. Gasps buried within the throes of pleasure. Soon, the goblin girl was seen by his side all the time, receiving promotion after promotion within the King's ranks.

Suspicions grew and grew and, eventually, were confirmed. Standing by the goblin girl's side, the King had made a spectacular speech as the masses of the city flocked to the streets and courtyards. A poetic flurry of persuasion, determining that humans and goblins could get along like never before. And, most notably, passing the crown down to her.

Of course, The Royal Crest hadn't allowed it. At the very first hurdle the goblin girl's command was thwarted, and... well, the stories always differ after that. Mive didn't much care anyway - he cared for what happened before.

How

had a single goblin girl manipulated the King so easily? The stories were sexual - which wasn't surprising given goblins' naturally perverse tendencies - but to claim she had seduced the King into dropping a kingdom at her feet... that would be quite the task.

So every time Mive cut through the grounds of the goblin academy, he would keep his ears perked up. And almost every time he would be rewarded.

An open window, a door ajar, whatever it may be - the sounds of sex would emerge. Cries of bliss and grunts of adoration would cradle his ears. It always caused him to think of the stories. Of a teasingly seductive goblin girl winning over an entire kingdom with the merest grazing of her lips, the gentlest touch of her skin.

And then he'd pass, and have something to reminisce for the remainder of his journey.

This time, it went a little differently. A crude scaffold had been put up along his regular trail, reaching up to a shattered window. Atop it, a goblin woman was inspecting the damage.

Despite the many times Mive had heard goblins within the academy walls, it was exceptionally rare to see one. Ever since the incident, the two communities were almost entirely separate. The back of the academy was less well kept than the famous gardens out the front, and he was confident by this point that almost nobody ever came back here. Normally, he would walk nestled between the academy wall and a thick hedge shrubbery, hiding him from any wandering eyes - but from her position on top of the scaffold, the goblin was sure to spot him. He had no idea how she would react, or if humans were even allowed on the academy grounds.

After a moments hesitation, he decided on a new route. He could've turned and left, but how could he pass up the opportunity of seeing a goblin in the flesh?

A ditch ran through the back of the academy grounds. It weaved and snaked like a dried riverbed, but it was far deeper. Deep enough to hide him if he bent down a bit. Crouching into it, he crept along. A little further in, he stopped. Laying flat against the side of the grassy ditch, he peered over its edge.

He gazed at the goblin woman. The ditch had taken him a little distance away, so the finer details were difficult to make out. She was short, as all goblins were when compared to humans. Mive vaguely guessed that she'd come eye level to about his navel. Yet despite this, she was temptingly curved.

Mive could tell this easily even at such a distance because her clothes were hardly suited for her task. She wore a grey crop top with an image on the front he couldn't make out, which cut off early towards the top of her midriff. From Mive's angle, below the scaffolding, he was able to see under its fabric as it hung loosely from her body - specifically, her tits.

If she tilted forward in the right pose, the top would reveal the plump underboob curve of two outrageously large breasts on her otherwise small body. It was a salivating sight. Her hips, too, thrust out at her sides to make way for her thick, jiggly ass, caught inside tight shorts.

Mive watched for a while as she cleared away some broken glass, admiring the way her flame-touched red hair blew in the wind, and shamelessly ogling her curves whenever she unknowingly showed him an eyeful. The muscles of her legs and back flexed and stretched as she moved - likely to support her heavier features.

It had been far longer than a couple minutes when he decided to move again. So much for saving time.

He stumbled along the ditch, his progress slowing as the ground gradually became less even. He at least knew that the other side of it emerged by his usual exit, where he could slip through a hole in the overgrowth, but he'd never traversed it before.

Roots crept up from under the soil like grasping hands reaching for his ankles. He swept past thick shrubs and crouched lower at points where the floor of the ditch raised.

There was a hill. Mive swallowed. It was only a meter across, maybe two, but he'd be completely visible.

Peering out, he swept his eyes across the grounds, and over the academy. The goblin girl on the scaffolding was facing away. He saw no watching faces, heard no approaching sounds. So, swiftly, he made a run for it.

A crack under his feet alerted him of his mistake. His foot had stepped into the small gap between a thick root and the ground, and on the next step it had caught. As the rest of his body followed its intended path, his leg was tugged sharply back. Tumbling forth, he rolled into the ditch, coming to a halt on his back. It was an embarrassing error, a failure of footing, one which any of his friends would mock him for. He was lucky there was nobody around to see.

"And what are

you

doing here?" A stern voice called from above. Mive's eyes shot open as he gulped. He should've been more careful.

His gaze flicked to the edge of the ditch, where a goblin woman was now standing. From this perspective, she seemed to tower over him, although Mive was sure the opposite would be true if they stood side by side. Adjusting his head, he got a better view of her.

She wore a stern, agitated expression that, somehow, did little to hide the beauty of her face. Elegantly shaped eyebrows furrowed but did little to distract from the twinkling violet irises in her large, bright eyes. Thick eyeliner, mascara, and an eyeshadow a few shades deeper green than her skin completed her intense gaze.

Forest green lips shining with a thick gloss pursed together yet still appeared full and pouty. Thick, pointed ears stuck out either side of her head, and in their lobes were golden earrings with a pattern of hanging diamonds glittering in the sunlight. Her hair was black, but where it caught the light it showed the slightest nightshade purple. It was tucked neatly backwards, behind her ears, but a few strands fell down to frame her face.

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She wore professional attire, a grey waistcoat with white pinstripes adorning her torso, wonderfully filled out by her chest, with a simple shirt-collar snaking around her neck. It would be modest if it wasn't for the undone top button that, even from this angle, showed a generous glimpse of cleavage. Mive's gaze briefly fluttered underneath her short pencil skirt, witnessing the top of her semi-transparent thigh-highs gently indenting plump thighs. She was a curvaceous beauty.

A curvaceous beauty that had caught him where he shouldn't be,

Mive reminded himself. "I- uh, I was..." Put on the spot, it suddenly became difficult to find an excuse.

"Get up." She snapped. "You'll do yourself no good at all rolling around in the dirt." As he shuffled to a stand, she inspected her fingernails - dull lilac nails that protruded slightly beyond her fingertips - with an air of boredom. A glint of light drew Mive's attention to a thick golden ring, engraved with a spiralling pattern, snugly fitted around her middle finger.

"Better." She regarded him a little less harshly as she looked him over once more. Now he was standing, still down in the ditch, and their heads came to around the same height. "Skipping class, are we?" She glared. "You know that gets you a trip to the dean's office. Luckily for you, I'm right here."

Mive opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted. "You can explain yourself in my office. Follow." Without another word, she span around on her shallow heels and began to strut towards the academy.

There was something undeniable about her authority that caused Mive to instantly fall into line behind her. It took a few moments of introspection to think about what he

actually

wanted to do. The situation was strange - why did she seem to think he studied at the academy? He peered down in case he'd undergone a sudden bout of morphosis - but no, he still clearly wasn't a goblin.

He weighed up his options. It was clear that he was going to be punished in some way, which didn't sound

great

to him, but he was sure she'd stop once she figured out he didn't study at the academy. But in his minds eye, he could see himself wandering the halls of the academy, the only human in a sea of green. Oh, the things he would see and hear, and the stories he would have. As thoughts flickered back to memories of the sounds he'd heard from outside the academy, the choice became clear.

With a new confidence in his stride, he followed the goblin into the academy.

As they entered a door, they emerged into a beautiful, fantastical, high-ceilinged, chandelier-lit chamber with intricate tapestries and gorgeous paintings and... Mive didn't much care. Exactly two things had engulfed his attention since the moment he stepped foot inside.

The first was the endless, bustling maze of thick goblin bodies. It was one thing to let his gaze wander down the goblin dean's sauntering curves as she had led him inside, but it was entirely different when, whichever direction he looked, his vision was met with the teasing curve of an ass under a too-short skirt, the jiggle of breasts as a goblin bounced or laughed, and the tens and tens of eyes that suddenly appeared to be locked right on him. It was unescapable.

The second was, to put it crudely,

the sex.

At first the sounds reached his ears. Wet slaps, messy kissing, whimpers and moans. Then the scents. A stench of sweat and sex hugged every morsel in the room.

Then the sights. Public decency, it seemed, wasn't in their vocabulary. Picture goblins, both male and female, kissing passionately. Pushing each other against the walls and shoving their knees harshly into each others crotches. Girls teasing their shirts up high enough to reveal a dark, puffy nipple, circling it with a finger shiny with a layer of spit. And those were the modest ones.

Girls on their knees, tongues trailing up and down thick goblin cocks. Guys shoving girls' faces into their crotches until they were audibly gagging, mascara running down their cheeks. Other guys with their heads deeply buried between a woman's legs. A few were just plainly fucking. In the room, the goblin women outnumbered the men maybe three-, maybe four-to-one.

The males were swarmed. One lay on the floor, a girl riding their cock while another rode their face. Another had not one, not two, but three women pressing their faces together to lap at his balls. One had a ditzy, blissed-out expression drooling across his face as two women, one on each side, made out with his large ears like they were genitalia. Some of the women, whether by preference or by convenience Mive wasn't sure, had given up on pursuing the men in the room and instead were greedily pressing their bodies together as they cried out in pleasure.

It would cause a reaction in even the strongest men, and Mive was no different. As he watched and walked, he felt his crotch stir to attention.

The crowds seemed to flawlessly part before the dean as she walked, her authority clearly respected amongst the goblins. Soon - too soon, a part of Mive whined - they were through another door and into a corridor. It was far emptier, and devoid of the overwhelming sense of sex that weighed down on him in the previous chamber. On his way out, he glanced at a label on the door - 'Public Study Space'.

How strange.

"Umm, where are we going?" Mive asked as he caught up once again to the dean.

She turned to face him. "Firstly, you will address me as Miss or Ma'am. You should know better." Even though she clearly had to peer up to meet his gaze, her expression made him feel like she was towering over him. "And to answer your question, we are heading to my office. If you were listening, you would know I already told you this." She glowered at him for a moment longer before turning back and continuing her steady pacing.

As they turned this way and that, Mive noticed that the goblin students didn't share the apparent lack of eyesight or logic that the dean did, and could tell he was human. Their eyes lingered on him, some curious, some hungry, some downright lustful. Mive wasn't sure if it scared him or turned him on.

Eventually the dean slipped inside a small, innocuous door, helpfully labelled as 'Office of Dean Miribelle'.

Inside was a cute, cosy study. A large wooden bookcase lined one of the walls, and a wooden desk sat in the corner. Rays of sunlight streamed in through a large arched window, illuminating the room with a warm glow.

Miribelle - so Mive assumed - strutted around the table and placed herself neatly into a plush red armchair embroidered with golden strands. With a single finger pointing downwards, she gestured to the opposite seat - a dull green armchair, slightly smaller than hers. "Sit." She commanded.

Mive obliged, sinking into the comfortable cushions of the chair. The seat was clearly designed for goblins, and he was far oversized for it - to rest his feet on the floor, his knees had to slightly raise, and the height of the chair back only just supported him enough to lean back. The dean inspected him for a moment.

"So do you want to explain what was more important outside in the grounds than class? Your duties

do

require you." She chided him sternly.

"I'm, uh, not a student here, actually." Mive interjected.

"

Miss.

" She scolded.

"Oh, um, sorry..."

He trailed off. She waited.

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Mive cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, Miss..."

Her expression softened, just a little. "And of course you aren't a student. You're a human. Humans aren't students here, they're assistants." She spoke bluntly as if this much should have been obvious to him.

"I'm, uh, not an assistant either." He fiddled with his fingers. "Miss." He quickly added.

"You aren't?" Miribelle cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Why, then we must correct this at once."

Finally,

Mive thought. The whole situation was starting to feel a little too strange for him. "We'll get you signed up right now."

Mive blinked.

What?

"I... think there's been a mistake... Miss." He suggested. "I'm not here to...

sign up

to anything."

Miribelle pondered for a moment. In a swift motion, she swung her legs up onto the desk, leaning back further into her chair. Her feet were bare, no longer confined to the insides of her shoes, and covered only in the thigh-highs that trailed down her legs. Her toenails were painted similarly lilac to her fingernails.

Mive looked back.

Had she always had the top

two

buttons of her top undone?

"No? Then I must report you as a threat. There's only ever humans on our grounds for two reasons. Either to assist us, or for some unseemly, dangerous deeds." She briefly glowered at him.

"No, Miss, I-"

"Enough of that. I have, somewhere around here..." She shuffled through a slim pile of books at the edge of her desk. "Ahah. Here. A test of sorts to see if you are fit to assist or hiding something sinister." In her hands she ruffled through the pages of a thin book.

Mive clenched his jaw, but didn't complain. He wasn't sure what would happen if he was deemed a 'threat', but he couldn't imagine it would be an outcome he would enjoy.

Miribelle cleared her throat. "Alright, what is your name?" She read from the book.

"Mive."

"Hm." She studied him again. "Doesn't sound too threatening." Mive wasn't sure whether this was supposed to be an insult or a compliment or something in between. He decided to stay silent.

"What do you think about the events between King Damon and Pitilla the goblin?" She gazed intensely into his eyes as he thought over his answer. It was difficult to judge what she wanted him to say, and her expression gave him no hints.

"I think it is... interesting." He concluded vaguely, sprinkling in a little truth without delving into any potentially troublesome details.

"Interesting how?" As she spoke, her fingers came to her collarbone to adjust her collar. As she did, the fabric slid slightly along her breasts, growing her visible cleavage. Even under her watching eyes, Mive couldn't help but glance.

"It... surprises me. That King Damon did what he did."

"Does it?" She seemed surprised, and Mive swore he saw the slightest smile tug at the corner of her lips. "And why is that?"

"He... was a strong leader. I think many were surprised when he tried to forfeit his lands."

"Well

clearly

, many of you don't know how good a goblin girl can be for your silly, stressed minds. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." Before Mive could question this vague statement, she continued to the next question.

"Do you find goblins attractive?" She shuffled her position, her jewelled earrings glittering in the light. Her calves flexed, followed by her feet, before she relaxed once more. Mive realised it was almost like his gaze was being directed.

"I, uhh... that feels like a leading ques-"

"Alright, let's make this simpler for you. Do you find

me

attractive?"

Mive's mouth suddenly felt quite dry. This was one of those questions that only had incorrect answers. Say no, and he was rude. Say yes, and he was lecherous. For a few moments he considered which one was more likely to lead to her considering him a 'threat'.

"You're..." He took another glance at the expanse of her cleavage. "Yes." He gulped as the truth slipped out - he absolutely

did

find her attractive - dearly hoping this wasn't offensive in any way.

"Good." There was definitely a hint of a smile playing on her lips now. "You'd be stupid not to. I can see the way you're looking at me." Her eyes bore into his as he tried his hardest to maintain eye contact.

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