Bibiana's Bargain, P1.

[pre-story]Finally getting to work on actual commissions! Well, at least a little. This is the commission I started on months ago that's been on hold while I work on musings and shorts and such. It was basically like this when I came back to it, I just had to tweak a few things here and there and add a paragraph on the end to cap it off nicely as a 'part one'. Very convenient. No sex just yet, but definitely sexiness, involving a milfy shortstack goblin and a sexy futa demoness. 
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted]
Commissioned by the eternally patient Onikumomaru. Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]

Bibiana's Bargain, P. 1 

There are points in one’s life where one must stop and ask themselves how they arrived at them. As she lay there, hog-tied and helpless, while her master began to chant in some unknowable tongue, the mystical lines and symbols drawn on the cold stone floor with black chalk beginning to glow with a sickly purple light, Bibiana found herself at one such point.



Bibiana had been born in a small goblin village she could barely remember. Honestly, it wasn’t much worth remembering, a few overcrowded huts in a small forest clearing, with not nearly enough food to go around. Sometimes, the men would raid a human farm and everyone would celebrate and she’d be able to eat until she was full. Looking back, those raids were probably what brought the adventurers that attacked the village and captured her.

She remembered the first human to buy her, she was still just a child at the time... but that hadn’t mattered to him. She’d learned to speak the local human language, Gallienne, from Gascon, a goblin who was one of the master’s butlers and had heard her crying one night. When the master got bored of her, Gascon had convinced him to keep her as a maid rather than selling her. She’d learned how to cook and clean quickly enough, and she lived there for many years, before the master had gone bankrupt.

After that, she’d served many masters, in many lands, and had learned something from each. She learned to speak Albian, Alemanni, and Iberian, though she could never get rid of the Gallienne accent. She’d learned how to read and write, at least, enough to know the letters and numbers and a couple words before the girl that had been teaching her was sold. She learned how to please men with her body, which wasn’t particularly difficult, considering she’d grown from a scrawny little waif to a full-figured woman over the years. 

Then she’d been bought by the baron, her current master, a fat, greasy little Albian man, so short she wondered, privately, if he had any dwarven blood in his veins. Which would have been ironic, considering his constant rantings about humans being the only ‘civilized’ race and how nonhumans were little more than animals needing to be brought to heel. But, as unpleasant as he was, his gold was just as shiny as anyone’s, and he had plenty of it. He had told her right away, he wasn’t interested in keeping some greenskin bitch as a maid. No, he wanted her for her body, as well as for… darker purposes. The baron fancied himself a mage, and he needed subjects for his mystical experiments. She was one of his favorites, something about goblins being naturally susceptible to transmutation, according to him. Whatever his reasoning, whenever he came to her cell, she knew she was about to be the target of his spells, of his lusts, or both.

When the baron had bought her, Bibiana was a beautiful, but relatively normal goblin woman. Now she looked like some perverse parody of her former self. She still held on to much of her youthful beauty, despite her… maturity. Her skin was still bright green, smooth and soft to the touch, with only the faintest wrinkles beginning to form around the corners of her bright blue eyes. Her long, silky black hair still flowed in an ebon waterfall down over her shoulders to the small of her back. Her lips, however, had been inflated, plumped up and magically stained permanently cherry-red, like a streetwalker’s lipstick. Her breasts, once overflowing handfuls, were now huge, wobbling emerald mounds the size of her head, enormous udders that swayed heavy with milk. She’d always been curvy, but now her hips were even wider than her shoulders, and she had thick, round, meaty ass that bounced and jiggled with her every step, with juicy thighs to match.

For the last month or two, the baron had been hauling her out of her cell even more often than usual. Each time, she would be put into a room with goblin men of every description, and ordered to mate with them. Some of them were decent lovers, but others were rough, almost feral, and no matter what the baron was always watching, making sure they were ‘on task’. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the filthy little man was jerking his tiny dick as he watched. If she couldn’t make them come, or they came anywhere other than her pussy, they were both punished for their failure, and they would be forced to go again, and again, until the man was exhausted. With each goblin, the baron had grown more and more frustrated, more angry.

This morning, when the baron had gotten Bibiana out of her cell, she had expected more of the same, but instead, he’d bound her wrists behind her back and dragged her off to a stone chamber in the basement of his mansion. She hadn’t liked the look of the dark circles and symbols on the floor, but she couldn’t exactly fight him with her wrists bound. He’d thrown her to the ground in one of the circles, bound her ankles to keep her from kicking, then tied her ankle-bindings to her wrists so tight her spine was forced to arch awkwardly, most of her weight on her stomach and her enormous breasts. Then he’d stepped into another circle and started to chant, and now...

The sickly violet light grew brighter and brighter with each syllable the baron spoke, shining straight up from the lines of black chalk, forming short walls, palisades made of spears of purple light. The light formed three circles, one around Bibiana, one around the baron, and one empty, for now. Suddenly, a fog formed in the empty circle, a low, thick cloud that completely obscured the ground, the mist contained within the wall of purple light. Then, from the mists, something began to rise. A tapered obsidian spike was the first thing visible, the wicked point of an unnatural horn, followed by short, dark hair, spiked up like the tongues of an ebony flame. A purple forehead bearing the base of four unnaturally angular horns emerged, their diamond-shaped cross section making them look almost blade-like as they thrust up and forward, then angled sharply to thrust straight up. Only one horn remained wholly intact, almost a foot long and tapering to a wicked, rapier-like point, the others all broken off at various points. The figure’s face was… beautiful, to say the least. Feminine, narrow, with flawless violet skin, high, regal cheekbones and full, soft-looking lips, her eyes eyes closed peacefully.

The woman; no, the demoness, for there was no mistaking this being for a mere mortal; continued to emerge, rising out of the mist effortlessly, like she was being lifted from below. She had slender shoulders and a narrow chest, standing in stark contrast to the impossibly perfect, melon-sized breasts that perched, perky and full on her chest, without the slightest hint of sag. Her waist was inhumanly slim, not an ounce of fat to hide her tight eight-pack of sculpted abs, and her silhouette flared out again to meet her hips, which would have looked generous on a human, but looked simply impossible on her slender build. Those rounded hips supported the very ideal of an ass, the twin globes of tight, bouncy bubble butt that all other asses were but pale reflections of, so shapely and defined it stood out like a shelf. But perhaps even more impressive than that ass was the cock that thrust proudly from her hips, the foot-long shaft thicker than her wrist and permanently iron-hard, ready to ravage innocent holes. Its underside was studded every inch or so with gleaming steel barbells, matching the one gleaming in her cumslit, but the upper side was covered in dozens of randomly-spaced thorn-shaped nubs of rubbery flesh that promised to tug and scrape at every fold and nerve of the pussies it claimed, much like the blunted points thrusting back from the ridge of her gleaming, fist-sized cockhead.

Fully emerged, the demoness opened her eyes, revealing featureless orbs of burning, crimson light that shone beams of hot, red light wherever they looked, and her lips parted in a wicked smile, revealing a mouthful of pointed fangs. A quartet of black-and-purple batlike wings unfolded from behind her back, seemingly too large to have been hidden by her slender frame. She already towered nearly a foot taller than the baron, but when she unfurled her wings, filling the summoning circle entirely, and fixed the greasy little man with her glaring, searing spotlight gaze, the small man seemed to shrink. Bibiana could only stare up at her, eyes wide with fear and awe.

The baron recovered quickly enough, straightening his straining vest and clearing his throat before beginning speaking. “Demon! I am the great Baron-”

“Shut up.” The demoness commanded, her voice rich but her tone firm, furling her wings, her attention already sliding off the fat little human toward the glowing symbols drawn on the floor.

The baron blinked, somewhat surprised, but attempted to recover. “I- I have summoned you by your true name, Violla Blackspark, and I seek a contract in accordance with the old laws! I offer you this sacrifice-” He began, gesturing casually over to the hogtied goblin woman. “-in exchange for your power-”

“I’m fairly certain I told you to shut up. I don’t care who you are or what you offer me.” The demoness shot back, cutting him off again as she continued to study the circles and the lines connecting them, her neatly-trimmed eyebrows furrowing slightly.

The baron sputtered. “How- How dare you! You are bound and in MY power, demon, and don’t you dare forget! I could simply trap you here until you agree to my terms-”

“No, no you couldn’t…” The demoness muttered, squinting at a very specific set of sigils on the line between his circle and Bibiana’s. Then she smiled, baring pointed teeth. It was not a pleasant smile. It was a smile of cruel pleasure at another’s misfortune, a smile of gleeful anticipation of devastation to follow. “Ha! I thought that was it! Oh, Himself, you fucked up BAD!” She laughed.

“...You can’t trick me, demon! The circles hold you, the sacrifice is in place, and I am in the seat of power!” The baron insisted, sweat beading on his forehead.

The demon’s eyes flicked over to the bound goblin. Bibiana’s skin tingled as the heat of the demon’s gaze settled on her, it felt like the warmth of the sun, but… unsettling. “Do me a favor, would you, and order him to shut up?” She asked with a sigh.

“Don’t talk to her!” The baron snapped, his face ruddy with anger. “I am in control here! I am the master of this circle! I will not be ignored! I will not be sile-”

“S-silence.” Bibiana half-whispered, unsure. The word had immediate effect, the baron’s voice suddenly cutting off completely, leaving him flapping his lips uselessly. Her eyes widened, as did his. The baron’s face flushed bright red as he stared at the goblin slave with abject hate and a rage she’d only seen on rare occasion, veins in his neck bulging as he launched into a silent bout of screaming, mouthing what she could only assume were obscenities.

“Much better.” Violla purred, turning back the little man. “Allow me to explain the full scope of your failure, now that you are incapable of interrupting me. Normally, both the summon and sacrifice are bound by the runes to listen to and obey to the summoner, to a certain extent. But the moment you began to speak, I felt no such compulsion, and I knew you’d messed up the binding. Honestly, you were so very close to getting it all right. You scribed everything just right… And then you went and dumped your sacrifice in the summoner’s circle.” She elaborated, her grin widening evilly as the color drained from the baron’s ruddy face, his eyes going wide. “That’s right, you’re figuring it out, oh ‘great baron’. You managed to fuck it up at the very last second. You sacrificed yourself!” She crowed with laughter as the baron began to silently pound at the invisible barrier the circle formed.

“S-so… I am ze master now?” Bibiana asked, hesitantly.

The demoness’ attention shifted over to her, and Bibiana almost immediately regretted drawing it as those burning eyes fixed upon her prone form. There was a lingering moment of silence before the demoness smiled again, a wicked, eager smile that bared her sharp teeth and gave Bibiana goosebumps. “...For the moment. Tell me, little goblin, what would you like?” She asked, her voice rich and smooth, like buttered silk.

Bibiana swallowed, nervously. “I… I would like… I would like to not be tied up.” She replied, hesitantly.

The demoness arched an eyebrow, and with a flick of a single claw-tipped finger, the ropes holding the goblin blackened, then crumbled to ash. “I’m in a good mood, little goblin, so I will call that a fair trade for silencing the annoying little man for me.”

“Merci.” Bibiana replied, pushing herself to her feet, rubbing her wrists to soothe the itch that lingered where the coarse rope had been. She looked over to the fat, angry, terrible man who owned her as he pounded futilely at the mystical barrier, eyes bloodshot with rage as he howled in silent fury. “...What would such a man be worth?” She inquired, half to herself, half aloud.

“Well… mortals are rare enough to be of significant value, though, this one isn’t exactly suited for pleasure, or display, or even labor…” Violla mused. “Perhaps you’d get more if he were sold as parts. Souls are always valuable, and magicians’ souls especially so. The body could be butchered for meat, blood, bone, organs, fat… There’s always a market for flesh.” The demoness replied, stroking her chin, considering her options as the baron’s silent tirade intensified.

Bibiana shook her head. “If I offer him, whole, for you to do with as you will, market or abattoir… What would you offer in return?” She asked, ignoring the baron’s frantic pounding.

Violla shook her head. “Depends on what you want. Wealth? Power? Youth? Beauty? Freedom?”

Bibiana paused, watching the baron rage for a moment, chewing her lip. Then something clicked, and she turned back to the demoness. “...What if I asked for what he has?”

The demoness arched an eyebrow, then smirked. “I like it… But get specific.”

Bibiana nodded. “Everything of his, becomes mine. His money, his land, his slaves, his title…” She listed on her fingers, then looked up, an idea occurring to her. “I inherit it... But ze world would not believe he would name a slave, a goblin, as his heir... Unless you can make ze world believe.” She continued, a wicked smile spreading across her permanently-reddened lips.

The demoness paused for a moment, considering the offer. “...What is your name, little goblin?” She asked, finally.

The goblin hesitated before answering. “...Bibiana.”

The demoness snapped her fingers, and with a burst of black fire, a roll of parchment burned into existence, landing in her hand. She flicked her wrist, letting it unroll to reveal a page covered in the baron’s calligraphic handwriting, bearing his wax seal at the bottom. “This is a version of the baron’s will, declaring his slave Bibiana freed upon his death and all his possessions passing to her. The ink is infused with my power, such that anyone who reads it will believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it is truly his words, his intentions.” She explained. “Here’s what I’ll do for you. All existing copies of his will be replaced with a copy of this, wherever they are in the world, so that anyone looking for evidence to dispute your inheritance becomes convinced that your claim is, in fact, legitimate.”

Bibiana’s smile grew wider, her eyes shimmering with eagerness, but the demoness flicked her wrist again, and the scroll furled once more, and she closed her clawed hand around it, protectively. “However. For this sacrifice alone-” She commented, gesturing to the sacrifice circle, where the baron now slumped, panting and sweaty. “-such a task is simply not worth my effort.” she finished, shaking her head.

Bibiana’s expression dropped, shifting from glee to panic. “But… But… What else can I offer? I have no money, no possessions… Do you want my soul?” She asked, beginning to despair.

The demoness smiled, a sharp-toothed, predatory smile that made Bibiana shiver. “Not your soul, little goblin…” She purred. “I would much rather have your service.” She explained. “My name has faded from your world. Once, I was worshipped, revered by my faithful and feared by their enemies. Then, I was a secret, whispered in the ears of the desperate and greedy. Then I was a curiosity, a relic only invoked by the curious and learned. Now, my name is all but forgotten, hidden away in dusty tomes kept under lock and key. Your former master was the first to summon me in quite some time.” She elaborated.

Bibiana nodded, hesitantly. “...I see, but… what could I do?”

The demoness paced in the confines of her circle. “I require a priestess. A servant to do my bidding upon your world, a messenger to spread my name among the people, and an example to show what I can give those who offer sacrifice to me.” She explained, then turned to face Bibiana again. “So, here’s my counter offer. I take your former master off your hands, I fix your inheritance, giving you all the wealth and power you could ever desire, freeing you from your earthly master, and ensuring that you will never be a slave or servant again. In exchange, you pledge to serve me as my priestess, to worship me and spread my name in the mortal world.” She explained, then paused, the hot, red light of her gaze roaming up and down the short and curvy goblin once more. “...And to ensure your devotion, after the deal is made, I will remain here for seven days and seven nights, during which time you will worship and serve me. If your service pleases me, I will offer you one final boon before I depart. And if you don’t... I will simply bring you back to my own realm, where you can share your former master’s fate.” She warned.

Bibiana was hesitant. She’d heard stories of mages who thought themselves clever and struck bargains with demons, only to have their words twisted around to the demon’s benefit and their own horror. But then, what choice did she have? She glanced over at the baron as he raged in silence in the circle beside her. If she refused to make a deal, the baron would be freed and he would surely kill her, or worse. Even if the demon simply took him, she would still be a slave, to be captured and resold again, or convicted of killing her master and put to death. This demoness was her only chance for survival… and so much more. She took a deep breath, standing up straight and gathering her resolve, then turned to face the infernal contractor. “I believe we have a deal, mademoiselle.” She spoke, firmly.

The demoness smiled a predatory smile. “Excellent.” She purred. With a flick of her wrist, the scroll of parchment in her palm lifted, floating up and unfurling in midair, and she furrowed her brow with concentration. The sickly violet light forming the baron’s circle intensified, the wall of light rising into a glowing curtain, bright enough that Bibiana could only barely see the baron flailing within. Violet flames flickered to life along the bottom edge of the sheet, then rapidly rose, consuming it entirely, leaving not even ash in their wake. As the flames rose, Bibiana could see the baron’s form sinking behind the curtain of light, until, as the final wisps of flame consumed the last inch of parchment, she couldn’t see him any more. The light faded back to normal a moment later, and the baron was gone, the circle now empty. The demoness grinned, momentarily satisfied. “And now that the first part of the bargain is complete…” The demoness muttered, turning to Bibiana.

Bibiana watched with fascinated curiosity as the demoness raised her hands in front of her, flattening out one as though she were looking at her nails. She brought her clawed index up to the pack of her hand, and Bibiana gasped, suddenly feeling a sharp pressure on the back of her own hand. As the demoness began to draw with her claw, Bibiana watched wide-eyed as lines of red light began to form on her skin, mirroring the demoness’ strokes, until the lines formed a complex sigil. The demon turned her hand around, showing a matching sigil on her own hand. “A soul tether. It binds our souls- Well, your soul to my… me. It will allow me to remain in this world once the binding circle ends.” The demoness explained. “Now, to close the circle, you have to say ‘The contract is complete’.”

Bibiana took a deep breath, readying herself for the trial to come. One week. She had to be the perfect servant for one week, and then she would be free forever. “Ze contract is complete.” She spoke, and the circle reacted. The black lines forming the circle ignited in a flash of violet flames, the lines of light fading out, the flames dying moments later, leaving the floor of the stone chamber unmarked, the only evidence of the circle’s existence a swiftly-dissipating whiff of sulfurous smoke in the air. Suddenly, there was nothing between the two of them, nothing to protect the naked goblin servant from her demonic mistress’ cruel whims, and Bibiana bit her lip, nervously. She bowed before the towering violet-skinned demoness, miming a curtsy with a nonexistent skirt, her enormous breasts swaying heavily as they hung beneath her. “I am your servant, mistress, how may I serve you?” She asked.

The demoness closed her eyes for a moment and stretched out, drawing in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the air of the mortal world for the first time in hundreds of years, the act pushing her inhumanly perfect breasts to even greater prominence. She spread her wings fully, now unrestrained by the borders of the circle, and then furled them again, opening her eyes and turning the warm red spotlight of her gaze upon the small, green-skinned woman’s curvaceous figure. Then she smiled, a hungry, eager, sharp-toothed smile that seemed to promise both pain and pleasure in immeasurable quantities. Bibiana shivered, despite the warmth of her new mistress’ gaze. She’d freed herself from the Baron’s ownership… but what sort of mistress had she given herself to? What was the saying again? ‘Out of the frying pan and into the fire’?