Fiery Knight's Forbidden Enchantment

Our story begins with Leslie (a 5' 11" tall, athletic female knight, with fiery red hair, and amber eyes) coughing as a group of bandits force her to drink a potion while restraining her. Once the potion is down her throat they let her go, stepping back to leer, mock her, and watch. They've taken her sword and shield and removed her breast plate. The potion is making her feel strange. She is furious at the situation and the bandits who have captured her. She isn't completely sure what the potion is doing to her, but she is becoming increasingly aware that she is getting more and more aroused by the second, despite how enraged she is. What she can't see yet is that her skin is turning a vivid light green or her ears have started to take on a pointed shape. We want long detailed posts, not short format entries in this story. Details matter. We will NOT be allowing Leslie to be raped or sexually assaulted by the bandits, this is not that type of story. We will initially be focusing on Leslie's transformation, then adding other elements later.

Leslie spat the bitter taste of the potion from her lips, her amber eyes blazing with fury as she struggled against the rough hands holding her down. The bandits’ laughter was rough, taunting, their grips tight around her wrists as one of them tipped the vial past her clenched teeth. The liquid burned like fire down her throat—thick, metallic, wrong. She coughed, jerking her head to the side, but it was too late. She’d swallowed most of it. The moment they released her, she surged forward, muscles coiled for a fight, but her body betrayed her. A sudden, dizzying heat pulsed through her veins, her skin prickling as if touched by a thousand crawling fingers. Her rage was still white-hot, but beneath it, something else stirred—thick, insistent arousal, pooling low in her belly like molten wax. She gritted her teeth, furious at the betrayal of her own body. The bandits stepped back, leering, their eyes raking over her. She didn’t yet notice the way her skin shimmered, the tan of her arms shifting into a vivid, otherworldly green. Her ears tingled, the cartilage subtly lengthening, the tips sharpening without her knowing. But she *felt* it—the strange, creeping transformation, the way her muscles tensed and flexed beneath her changing skin. She bared her teeth, instinctively reaching for her absent sword. "The hell did you give me?" she snarled, though her voice sounded rougher, deeper. The bandit leader just grinned. "Something to make you *pretty*." Her breath hitched as another wave of heat rolled through her, her nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her tunic. She needed to fight. Needed to *fuck*. And she had no idea which urge would win.

As the bandits watch and laugh Leslie would start to get shorter. Her tall athletic figure will start to diminish, inches of height beginning to melt away. This will of course quickly lead to her leggings, vambraces, boots, and greaves to become ill fitting. But even as her height it diminishing her hips begin to flare and widen, her thighs and as begin to thicken, and her breasts are definitely getting bigger. The light green tint to her skin will become quickly undeniable. And her ears will continue to lengthen and grow in size. Continue with long format entries and focus on the physical description of her changes and her mental state. She is resisting the waves of horny impulses that are hitting her, but she also can not dismiss them. She is very aware her body is changing and does not like it.

Leslie’s knees buckled as another wave of unsettling heat surged through her, and she barely caught herself on the rough stone floor before collapsing. Her vision blurred for a moment—when it cleared, the world looked *wrong.* Too high, too distant. The bandits loomed over her now, their grins widening as they watched. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she realized—she was *shrinking.* Her leggings, once snug against her muscular thighs, now sagged around her calves, the fabric pooling loosely around her boots. The vambraces slid down her forearms, the metal clattering uselessly against the stone. Panic flared, sharp and bright, but it was quickly smothered by another pulse of that thick, unwelcome arousal, making her clench her thighs together instinctively. Her body wasn’t just getting smaller—it was *changing.* Her hips jerked as they flared outward, the bones shifting beneath her skin with an unsettling crackle. The curves were sudden, dramatic, her waist cinching in contrast as her ass plumped, the fabric of her pants growing taut against the swell. Her tunic strained across her chest, the buttons threatening to pop as her breasts swelled, heavy and full, the nipples stiffening against the rough fabric. She looked down at her hands—no longer the calloused, battle-hardened grip of a knight, but small, delicate fingers tinged an unmistakable shade of vivid green. Her ears twitched, the tips now fully pointed, jutting through her disheveled red hair. "You bastards," she hissed, but her voice was higher, softer—less a warrior’s growl and more like the lilt of something... other. The bandits howled with laughter as one of them reached down, tugging at her loosened belt. Her leggings slid down her thickening thighs, exposing the quivering, flushed skin beneath. Leslie’s face burned with fury and shame, but her body *ached,* throbbing with every heartbeat. She wanted to break their skulls. She wanted to *ride* something. The contradiction made her dizzy. Another wave of transformation hit, and she cried out as her spine arched, her body surrendering further to the potion’s relentless pull.

Leslie's former 5' 11" height will get pulled down to a mere 32" in height by the next wave of transformation. Her hips popping into a lewd wide spread, her ass swelling round and firm to match. Her breasts rebelling until each is nearly the size of her head, full and firm, the new flesh taunts and not pulled down by the sag of time. Her ears will lose some of their rigidity, low long and floppy, the pointed tips resting on her shoulders. A goblin, a horny, dummy thick, floppy eared goblin. That's what the potion had turned Leslie into. Continue the long format and detailed description of Leslie's physical changes and mental point of view. Again the bandits will not be physically assaulting her. She is still in control of her self, but incredibly horny and defiant of her captors.

Leslie’s scream tore through the air as the next wave hit—like every bone in her body snapping and reforming at once. The ground rushed up to meet her, or rather, *she* rushed down to it. Her tall, proud frame crumpled inward, her spine compressing violently as her height dissolved in seconds. The leggings, already loose, slid off entirely now, pooling around her ankles as her legs shortened, her thighs thickening further, the plush flesh jiggling with the force of the transformation. Her gasp was high-pitched, almost squeaky, as she stared down—*way* down—at her own body. Thirty-two inches tall. A *toy*. The bandits’ boots were colossal now, their laughter booming like thunder. Her hands flew to her hips, feeling the obscene flare of them, the way they jutted out like a vulgar caricature of femininity. Her ass had swollen to match, round and heavy, the cheeks clapping together when she shifted, the sound muffled only by the fabric of her ruined tunic. And her *tits*—gods, they were massive, each one nearly the size of her new, tiny head, full and buoyant, the nipples stiff and aching against the stretched cloth. She could feel their weight, the way they swayed when she moved, mocking her. Her ears—no longer rigid points—dangled now, long and floppy, the tips brushing her shoulders like some absurd ornament. She reached up, tugging at one in disbelief, but the sensation sent a bolt of pleasure straight to her core. A whimper escaped her, her thighs squeezing together as wetness soaked the inside of what remained of her smallclothes. The bandits were howling, clutching their stomachs. "Look at her! A proper little goblin slut now!" Leslie snarled, baring sharpened teeth. "Fuck you!" she spat, but the effect was ruined by the breathy hitch in her voice. She tried to lunge at them, but her body was too small, too altered—her center of gravity thrown off by the ludicrous proportions of her new form. She stumbled, her tits bouncing, and had to catch herself on her hands and knees. The worst part? She *burned*. The arousal was unbearable now, a constant throb between her legs, her body screaming for release. She wanted to hate them. Wanted to kill them. But more than anything, she wanted to *grind* against something, anything, until the pressure eased. Her breath came in ragged pants as she glared up at them, defiance and desperation warring in her too-bright amber eyes. She wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. But her body had other plans.

We will now begin an action sequence that will lead to a scene transition. The door to the bandit lair will fly open, the lock blasted apart by a burst of arcane energy. Cade, (Cade is 6'2", lanky of build, ragged brown hair and blue eyes. He's a normally gentle and even tempered sort, who deeply respects Leslie) Leslie's adventuring partner will enter room and shoot two of the bandits with his arcane gun. He will call out for Leslie unsure of the situation and tell her to close her eyes as he throw the magical equivalent of a flash bang grenade. In the ensuing chaos Leslie can stumble run to him, and he will be shocked and confused by her state. But he can scoop her up and they can make their escape. We can then scene cut to them having just arrived in an in room to prep for our next scene. Continue the long format entries.

The door exploded inward in a burst of splintered wood and violet energy. Arcane shrapnel peppered the walls as Cade lunged through the smoke, his revolver already leveled. Two quick cracks of enchanted gunfire—two bandits dropped, clutching ruined shoulders, their screams drowned out by the ringing aftermath of the blast. "Leslie!" Cade barked, scanning the room—then froze. His sharp blue eyes flicked downward, widening in disbelief at the tiny, *obscene* figure on the floor. *"Close your eyes!"* Leslie barely had time to obey before Cade hurled a glowing orb into the center of the room. A searing flash erupted, blinding white, followed by a concussive *bang* that rattled her teeth. The bandits howled, staggering, their hands clawing at their faces. Gritting her sharp little teeth, Leslie scrambled forward on all fours, her oversized tits swaying, her plush thighs rubbing together with every frantic movement. She barely recognized her own body—every sensation *amplified*, every jiggle sending sparks through her oversensitive nerves. A hand closed around her waist—large, warm, familiar. Cade hauled her up against his chest, his grip firm but careful, even as his breath hitched at the feel of her ludicrous curves pressed against him. "What the *fuck*—" "Later," she hissed, her voice a breathy squeak. "Just *go*!" Cade didn’t argue. He bolted, Leslie cradled awkwardly in one arm, his revolver barking behind them to cover their retreat. The cool night air hit her flushed skin as they burst outside, her floppy ears whipping in the wind. Then—darkness. The muffled slam of a door. The creak of floorboards as Cade set her down on something soft. Leslie blinked up at him in the dim candlelight of the safehouse, her chest heaving, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of transformation and need. Cade stared back, his expression caught between horror, confusion, and something far more dangerous. She swallowed. The room was too small. The air was too thick. And Cade—*steady, dependable Cade*—was looking at her like he’d never seen her before.

Cade would quickly realize he was leering and snap his head away to stare at a wall, ceiling, floor, anywhere but Leslie. For Leslie's part her body was still ready to go and unlike the bandit's gaze Cade's was not unpleasant, quite the opposite. Cade would ask what had happened and if she was okay, if they'd... done anything to her before he got there. He'd likely stumble through a sting of apologies for not finding her faster, guilt obvious in the tremble in his voice. Leslie is still aware and responsive and can answer Cade, but she is also very aware that she is still incredibly horny, and kind, dependable, trust worthy Cade is right there... Continue long format structure, dialog and conversation interaction is the focus for this scene.

Cade jerked his head away, his cheeks burning as he fixed his gaze on the far wall. His fingers clenched at his sides, knuckles white. “Fuck, Leslie—sorry, I didn’t—” He swallowed hard. “Are you—are you hurt? Did they… *do* anything to you before I got there?” His voice cracked, rough with guilt. Leslie shifted on the bed, her thighs pressing together as another wave of heat coiled low in her belly. Cade’s stare had been brief, but it had *lingered*, and gods help her—she’d liked it. His hesitation, the way his breath caught—it wasn’t disgust. It was *want*. “No,” she managed, her voice higher than she remembered, breathier. “They just—shrank me. Messed with my body. *This*—” She gestured helplessly at herself, her tits jiggling with the movement. Cade’s jaw worked. “I should’ve been faster.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Fuck, Les, if they’d—” “You *got* me out,” she interrupted, sharper this time. She scooted forward, her tiny feet dangling off the edge of the bed. The motion made her hips sway, her ass shifting against the sheets. She saw the way Cade’s throat bobbed as he *didn’t* look. A beat of silence. Then, hushed: “Does it… hurt?” Leslie’s laugh was strained. “Not the way you’re thinking.” She flexed her fingers, then—deliberately—let one hand drift down to her thigh. “I’m just… wound up.” Cade’s breath hitched. His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for her. Like he *shouldn’t*. “We—we can find a healer, or—” “*Cade*.” Her voice was a plea now. She couldn’t stand the way he hovered, all careful restraint and trembling guilt. Not when her whole body was screaming for *touch*. His eyes finally flicked back to hers—wide, conflicted. Leslie held his gaze, her own heavy with need. The air between them crackled.

Cade will look at her, at what has become of his friend and partner, the noble stalwart knight. (Here is a good opportunity for a full description of Leslie now). He'd be ashamed at how he found her attractive like this, desirable. The mix of emotion would show on his face, Cade is often an open book. For her part Leslie would be feeling safe for now, but also throbbing horny in her new tiny body. Her nipples stiff and aching to be handled or sucked, and she could feel the slickness of herself between the press of her thighs. And as much as she could see Cade's inner conflict, she could also not see the bulge in his pants. Continue long format scene layout.

Cade’s gaze dragged over her—*really* looked—and the shame burned hotter in his chest. Leslie was still *her*, but… *gods*. The delicate point of her ears, the way her creamy skin flushed pink with every hitch of her breath. Her tits were obscenely full, nipples peaked and begging for attention, her waist cinched tight only to flare out into wide, tempting hips. The curve of her plush thighs pressed together, the dampness glistening between them impossible to ignore. She was *ruined*. And he was *hard* for it. Leslie shifted, a needy whine escaping her throat as her thighs rubbed together. She could *feel* his stare—knew exactly where it lingered—and her body responded in kind, her nipples tightening further, her cunt clenching around nothing. “Don’t,” she breathed, watching his face twist with guilt. “Don’t apologize. Not for *this*.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Leslie, you’re—you’re not *yourself*—” “I’m *right here*,” she insisted, her tiny fingers digging into the mattress. “And I *need*…” She trailed off, biting her lip. Cade’s fingers flexed at his sides. His cock ached against the seam of his pants, his self-control fraying with every ragged breath she took. Leslie’s eyes flicked downward—then back up, dark with understanding. She *saw* him. The realization hit like a gunshot. Neither of them moved. The air between them was thick, charged. Then—slowly—Leslie spread her thighs.

Leslie will have to convince him. He wants to but he thinks she's compromised. What she is, is a proud knight compressed into a very green, very horny goblin. Leslie will beg him if she has to, but she'd rather not, she'd rather just tell him what she needs right now and that means him, inside her. Cade won't make her beg, he values and respects her to much for that. Continue long format scene layout.

Leslie exhaled sharply through her nose. "Cade," she said, voice low but unshaken. "I'm still the woman who sparred with you last week. The one who drank you under the table at midsummer." Her fingers flexed against her own thigh, leaving pale marks on flushed skin. "Just because they shoved me into this... this *body* doesn't mean I don't know what I want." His jaw tightened. "You're not thinking straight." She laughed—short, frustrated. "I'm thinking *very* straight. Specifically about your cock." Cade made a strangled noise. His hands were fists at his sides, but his hips gave a tiny, betraying twitch forward. Leslie leaned back on her elbows, letting her tits rise with the movement. The way his eyes locked onto them sent another pulse of slick heat between her legs. "You think I'm compromised?" She arched her back slightly. "Then *compromise me*." A muscle jumped in Cade's jaw. He took one step forward—then stopped, his breath ragged. Leslie didn't blink. "I need you," she said plainly. "Not a healer. Not time. *You*. And if you walk away now, I swear to every god, I'll just find some other way to take the edge off." That did it. Cade moved so fast the bed frame creaked as he crowded over her, his knees bracketing her hips. His hand caught her chin, forcing her to hold his gaze. "Don't," he growled, "you *dare*." Leslie grinned, sharp and victorious. "Then *fix it*." His mouth crashed down onto hers.

Leslie is normally the strong tough one. Now she's so small and soft. And yet some how huge, her thighs, hips, her ass lifting her off the bed sheets, her massive tits. Cade's kiss will hit her like a jolt to the brain, in her charged state that alone will make her half cum. Continue long format scene.

Cade’s kiss was rough, desperate—all teeth and possessiveness, and Leslie’s body *arched* under him like she’d been struck by lightning. Her back bowed off the bed, her plush thighs clamping around his hips as a choked, shuddering moan tore from her throat. She was *dripping*. The slick heat between her legs painted Cade’s thigh as she ground against him, her tiny fingers scrabbling at his shoulders like she couldn’t decide whether to push him away or drag him closer. His grip on her jaw tightened, tilting her head back to take the kiss deeper, and Leslie’s hips jerked—once, twice—before her whole body tensed. A broken, high-pitched whine escaped her as she came, her cunt fluttering helplessly around nothing. Cade pulled back just enough to watch her unravel, his own breath coming fast. "Fuck, Leslie—" She cut him off with a weak shove, her face flushing darker. "Shut *up*," she panted, her chest heaving. "It’s just—this *body*—" His thumb swiped over her swollen lower lip, silencing her. "Still you," he murmured. "Just louder." Leslie groaned, her head thunking back against the mattress. "Stop being *right* and fuck me." Cade’s laugh was dark as his fingers slid down her ribs, over the sinful dip of her waist, before palming the full, heavy curve of her ass. "Bossy," he mused, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. "Some things don’t change."

They'll both fumble awkwardly as their hands trip over each other trying to get Cade's belt off and pants down. Some where in the undressing chaos Cade's dick will get free and land slapping Leslie right in the middle of her face with its hard length. At her size it will look and feel massive. And her little goblin body will want big human cock even more, the intensity of the want sensation will catch Leslie off guard and and shock and confuse her. Continue long format scene.

Their hands tangled in a frantic mess of pulling and clawing—Leslie’s fingers slick with sweat as she wrestled with Cade’s belt, his own grip slipping against her soft, too-small body. The leather strap finally gave way with a sharp *snick*, and as Cade shoved his pants down, his cock sprang free—thick, heavy, and *impossibly* large compared to her now-delicate frame. It slapped against her face with a lewd *thwack*, hot and rigid, the blunt head brushing her parted lips. Leslie’s breath hitched, her pupils blowing wide as the sheer *size* of him overwhelmed her senses. A whimper escaped her before she could stop it, her hips jerking instinctively, her cunt clenching around nothing. "Fuck," Cade hissed, but Leslie was already moving, her small hands wrapping around his shaft with a hunger that surprised even *her*. Her tongue darted out, tasting the salt-slick skin, and the groan that ripped from Cade’s chest was raw. "Didn’t—*ah*—didn’t know you wanted it *this* bad," he gritted out, his hips flexing forward. Leslie blinked up at him, dazed, her lips already swollen from the kiss. "Neither did I," she admitted, her voice shaky. Then, with a sharp tug, she dragged him down to her. "Now *stop talking*."

Continue with long format. Detail reminder Leslie is a mere 32" tall, very curvy green skin, floppy eared, red headed goblin. Cade is 6' 2" slim human with ragged brown hair.

Leslie’s tiny fingers barely wrapped halfway around Cade’s cock, the contrast obscene—her delicate green skin flushed darker with arousal as she stroked him, his girth stretching her grip to the limit. A bead of precum glistened at his tip, and before she could think, her tongue flicked out to catch it, the taste sharp and musky. The noise Cade made was half-growl, half-plea, his big hands trembling where they braced on either side of her head. She could feel the heat of him against her cheek, her floppy ears twitching at the ragged sound of his breathing. At this size, every inch of him felt *monstrous*—her lips parted wider, taking the head between them, her tongue swirling experimentally. The sensation was overwhelming, her cunt throbbing in time with the pulse she could feel under her fingertips. Cade’s hips jerked involuntarily, and Leslie gagged as his length hit the back of her throat. She pulled back with a wet gasp, her nostrils flaring, but her eyes stayed locked on his cock, hypnotized. "Shit—Leslie, *fuck*—" His voice was wrecked, his abs flexing as he fought to stay still. She didn’t let him finish. With a shaky breath, she dove back in, her small mouth working desperately to take more, her free hand cupping the heavy weight of his balls. The *size* of him, the *heat*—her body burned with the need to be filled, stretched, *ruined*. Cade’s fingers tangled in her wild red hair, not guiding—just holding on. "Gonna wreck that pretty little mouth," he warned, voice rough. Leslie moaned around him, her thighs squeezing together. *Good.*

Continue with long format. Cade can figure out her ears are sensitive and she'll enjoy the touch. Leslie will quickly figure out that female goblins can have 'oral orgasms' from sucking dick, the back of her throat having a very similar sensation to what's between her legs, like there's a little clit at the back of her throat that only deep throating can hit.

Cade’s fingers brushed against the base of Leslie’s floppy, green ear—just grazing, just *testing*—and the reaction was instant. Her whole body shuddered, a high whine vibrating around his cock as her throat clenched involuntarily. He did it again, firmer this time, his thumb dragging along the velvety edge, and Leslie’s hips bucked, her wet cunt slicking further against nothing. *Oh. Fuck.* Her mouth worked faster now, desperate, her tongue pressing against the thick vein under his shaft as she took him deeper. Every time he touched her ears, the pleasure spiked—her body lit up like a live wire, her moans muffled by the stretch of him. Then, suddenly, she *felt* it—a sharp, electric burst of pleasure as his cockhead nudged deep into her throat, pressing against something *new*, something *deep*. Her eyes rolled back. Leslie had never—*gods*, had *no idea*—her throat was *sensitive*, *hungry*, the pressure there sending shocks straight to her clit. She sucked harder, frantic, her nose buried in the coarse hair at his base as she *chased* it. Cade swore, his grip tightening in her hair. “Fuck, you—*shit*—you like that? Like taking me *deep*?” Leslie couldn’t answer—could only moan, drool spilling down her chin as her throat pulsed around him. She was close, *so close*, her body taut as a bowstring. Then Cade thrust. Just once—just hard enough to grind against that spot—and Leslie *screamed*, her orgasm slamming through her, her thighs clamping together as her cunt clenched around nothing. She came untouched, her throat milking his cock like it was trying to pull him deeper. Cade’s curse was ragged. “*Holy hell*.” Leslie pulled back, panting, her lips swollen and glistening. She licked them, dazed, before locking eyes with him. “*Again*.”

That was new for Leslie, well giving head at all was a first, let alone having an orgasm because of it. Cade was doing well to hold out this long. After she gets him to blow his load in her Cade will need to take a potion to refresh himself to keep up with her. Leslie will also find out that apparently goblins either like the taste of cum or she specifically likes the taste of Cade... She'll also learn that to female goblins cum is basically an energy drink. Continue long format scene.

Cade’s cock twitched against Leslie’s tongue as she swallowed his last pulsing load, her throat working greedily to take every drop. The taste was *intense*—salty, thick, with an almost metallic edge—and instead of pulling away, she *moaned*, licking her lips clean as if savoring a rare delicacy. A rush of warmth spread through her, her limbs tingling with sudden, buzzing energy. Her belly felt full. Her skin *hummed*. *What the fuck—* Leslie’s ears perked, her pupils blown wide as she looked up at Cade, still catching his breath above her. His broad chest heaved, his abs glistening with sweat. “Damn,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You look like you just *woke up*.” She *felt* like it. Every nerve was alive, her cunt aching anew. “I think—*fuck*—I think I *like* that,” she admitted, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. Cade smirked, reaching for a small vial on the nightstand. “Goblin thing?” He downed it in one gulp, his muscles tensing as the potion hit his system. Almost instantly, his cock stirred again—hardening back to full attention, veins already prominent. Leslie didn’t wait. She climbed into his lap, her small frame dwarfed by his, her green fingers gripping his shoulders as she ground down against his thigh. “Yours,” she breathed, her voice husky. “*Again*.” Cade groaned, his hands sliding down to grip her ass. “Greedy little thing.” Leslie bared her teeth in a grin. “You have *no* idea.” Then she sank onto him—no hesitation, no teasing—her tight cunt stretching obscenely around his girth. The *fullness* was overwhelming. The *heat* was *everything*. And the energy—*fuck*—she could already feel it building again, her body hungry for more.

Perhaps surprising to both of them, Leslie's tiny body can accommodate Cade with ease, though she will feel tight around him. Goblin anatomy apparently is designed to facilitate paring with larger mates. Her wide hips making straddling Cade's lap easier as well. She's literally made to fuck right now. She's all drive and jiggling, gripable curves and hungry flesh. And some where in the back of her goblin mind the mate bonding instinct is starting to kick in. Continue long format replies.

Leslie’s hips rolled with a rhythm that was *instinct*, not thought—each bounce driving Cade deeper, her slick walls fluttering around him like they were trying to *keep* him buried inside. Her thighs flexed, her wide hips making every movement fluid, effortless, the perfect leverage as she rode him. Cade’s hands clamped down on her waist, fingers digging into the soft give of her lush curves. “Fuck, you’re *built* for this,” he growled, watching her breasts sway with every lift and drop of her body. She didn’t answer—couldn’t. Her mind was a haze of pleasure, the *need* coiling tighter with every thrust. Something primal in her clawed to the surface, a low, possessive whine escaping her throat as she leaned forward, nipping at his collarbone. *Mine.* The thought was sudden, visceral. Cade hissed at the sting, then *laughed*, dark and rough. “Oh, it’s like that?” His grip shifted to her ass, squeezing hard before delivering a sharp *smack* that made her squeal. Leslie’s cunt clenched around him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she dragged his mouth to hers. The kiss was messy, teeth and tongue, her body moving faster now, chasing that cresting wave. And then—*pressure*. A new, electric spark flared deep inside her, her inner walls suddenly *rippling*, tightening in deliberate, aching pulses. Cade’s groan was ragged. “*Shit*—you’re—” She didn’t let him finish. Her orgasm hit like a storm, her back arching as her body *locked* around him, milking him with desperate, rhythmic clenches. The pleasure was *blinding*, endless—and when Cade finally spilled inside her, filling her to the brim, Leslie’s moan was downright *triumphant*. She slumped against him, panting, her body still thrumming with restless energy. Cade exhaled thickly, dragging a hand down her spine. “You’re *insatiable*.” Leslie grinned against his skin. “Guess you’ll have to keep up.”

Leslie's goblified brain is registering Cade as half her mate now. She's claimed him, but in the instinctual part of her new mind he hasn't claimed her, and she desperately wants to be claimed by her would be mate. These impulses would surprise Leslie as they hit the thinking part of her mind, the concepts are foreign, alien to her knight's personality. And yet there it is, the deep want to be bent over, held from behind. Just the idea of being railed from behind with her fat ass pressed to Cade's hip while she's pinned against the bed face down propped up by her own massive tits? Simultaneously embarrassing and enough to make her quiver. Continue long form narrative structure and description format.

Leslie’s breath hitched as the realization clawed its way through the haze of pleasure—*she wanted him to own her*. Not just fuck her, not just use her, but *claim* her in a way that made her pulse hammer in her throat. The thought tangled in her mind, clashing with the part of her that still remembered steel and duty, not this desperate, *needy* instinct. Her fingers flexed against Cade’s chest, nails scraping lightly over sweat-slick skin. She could feel his cock still buried inside her, thickening again—gods, how was he *still* hard?—but the hunger twisting in her gut wasn’t just for another round. She wanted him to *take*. Cade’s brow furrowed as he studied her expression, his grip tightening on her hips. “What’s going on in that head of yours, little menace?” Leslie swallowed, her voice embarrassingly small. “...Wanna be pinned.” The admission burned her cheeks, but her cunt *dripped*, clenching around him involuntarily. A slow, wicked grin spread across Cade’s face. He didn’t ask twice. In one rough motion, he flipped her onto her stomach, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Leslie gasped as her breasts crushed beneath her, the sheer *size* of them now forcing her torso up, her ass arched obscenely high. Cade’s hand traced the curve of her spine before landing another sharp *smack* on her backside. “This what you needed?” His voice was pure gravel. Leslie whimpered, pushing back against him, her tailbone grinding against his cock. “*Yes*.” He didn’t make her wait. One hand fisted in her hair, yanking just enough to make her back bow deeper, while the other guided himself back inside her with a single, brutal thrust. Leslie’s cry was muffled against the sheets, her fingers clawing at the bedding as he set a punishing pace, hips slamming into her with enough force to jolt her entire body forward. Every snap of his pelvis sent her tits swaying, the friction against the mattress maddening. She was *full*, stretched, *his*—and when his teeth sank into the nape of her neck, Leslie *shattered*, her vision whiting out as her cunt spasmed around him. Cade growled against her skin, his rhythm stuttering as he spilled inside her again, his grip on her hip bruising. “*Mine*,” he rasped. Leslie’s goblin-brain purred in satisfaction. Finally. *Finally.*

This round of sex will be their last for now, the effort and intensity will spend them both. Cade can take a grip on Leslie at the crook of both her arms, where her elbows bend. Her back bowed, massive tits bouncing against her ribs and jiggling with every thundering thrust from behind her. Leslie's Firm, round ass clapping against Cade, punctuating the completion of every deep penetration cycle. In these moments it's all Leslie wants, to be full of Cade, and his seed, it was what her body was meant for. When they finally finish they can lay down, spent and satisfied, Leslie's tiny form spooned back against Cade on the bed. Continue with long format and high detail response format.

Cade’s breath was ragged against Leslie’s ear, his grip iron-tight around the crook of her arms as he hauled her back onto him with every thrust. The angle forced her spine into a deep arch, her breasts crushed against her ribs, the sheer weight of them jolting with each punishing snap of his hips. The slap of flesh was obscenely loud—her round, firm ass meeting his pelvis in a rhythm that left them both gasping. Leslie’s vision blurred, her cunt *aching* around him, every nerve alight with the need to be *filled*. She could feel him bottoming out inside her, his cock stretching her to the limit, the wet, slick sounds of their joining only driving her higher. Her toes curled, her body tightening like a coiled spring— Then Cade *roared*, his hips jerking erratically as he buried himself to the hilt, flooding her with his seed. Leslie’s climax hit like a lightning strike, her walls clamping down in desperate, rhythmic pulses, milking him dry. Her rapturous moan flooded the room for a long moment, her thighs trembling violently as pleasure wracked her in wave after wave. For a long moment, neither of them moved—just the ragged sound of their breathing and the slick heat between them. Then Cade’s grip loosened, his body slumping against her back as he gently guided them both down onto the mattress. Leslie whimpered as he slid out of her, her oversensitive cunt clenching at the sudden emptiness, but the warmth of his spend seeping from her was a comforting reminder. Cade pulled her tight against him, one arm draped possessively over her waist, her back pressed flush to his chest. His lips pressed together is a satisfied o, a low, satisfied hum vibrating through her. Leslie let out a shuddering sigh, her limbs heavy, her mind blissfully blank. *This*, she thought drowsily, *this was right*. She nuzzled into the pillow, her body spent but sated, Cade’s steady heartbeat against her spine lulling her toward sleep. No more words. Just the quiet, the heat, the *belonging*.