Friday, January 31, 2014

Goblin VS Elfess...

His voice caressed her thoughts with deep rumblings, bringing
vivid images of his tongue with it. “I want to taste you.” His
calloused hand slid over her exposed thigh. Her panties grew wet.
The familiar tingle clutched her stomach and extended outward
at an alarming pace. Not again. Clover suppressed her groan. She
met a coal-black gaze, reached for his perfectly pointed ears, but
knew she’d disappear before an explanation fell from her lips.
She smiled and closed her eyes, resigned to floating away into
the nether and rematerializing at the goblin’s door. Cursed to disappear
every time she became sexually aroused, always coming
back to the same damn place.

Stupid goblins. Never seek refuge in their home. Clover wished
she could go back in time and tell herself that a goblin lived in
the old beautiful cottage on the hill. She remembered the night
vividly. It had been storming and his home stood the only one
within miles. Clover, soaked to her core, had needed a place to

dry, warm, and sleep till the storm passed. He had walked out of
the cottage like a knight ready to rescue a damsel. A goblin with
a human form. Only she hadn’t known he was a goblin then. He
looked like any other human she’d ever seen, except more attractive
than most. He had a smooth jaw line and a smile that complemented
his pretty brown eyes. He’d reached out to her, beckoned
her in.

In the elven realm, goblins were avoided because of their mischief.
They tended to rely on curses to get what they wanted, and
if an elf were to ever owe them, it would be unlikely the debt
could ever be repaid, as the goblin took complete control with
magic. The older the goblin, the stronger the curses. If only she
had looked closer, paid more attention that night, perhaps she
wouldn’t be in this mess now, two years later. Still in debt. She
could be back in her own glen in the elven realm. She missed the
twinkling fireflies, how the moonbeams bounced off the wisps
wandering around the glen, giving the tiny creatures a blue hue.
They had always been her favorite. Never made a sound, but always
floated throughout the glen.

In the human realm, wisps didn’t exist and Clover had not
been allowed to spend any free time back in her glen since the
goblin cursed her. Her poor hut had probably fallen to the insects
by now. She’d have to rebuild—well, if she ever freed herself from

“Just in time, little morsel. I ran out of my potion. Now be a
good elf and hand them over.” His scratchy voice brought her
back from the memory. Malik held out his pudgy green hand.
He stood half her height, but after he mixed his elixir, he turned
human, reaching nearly six feet. She had no idea what he actually
wove into his concoction, except he needed her desire to make
it work. Clover guessed it could be any female’s desire, really.
However, she was an elf, thus creating a much more potent potion
for Malik to use in order to change into a human a woman would
adore. And Malik loved his human women.

When she’d first met him two years ago, he’d been handsome,
a savior from the storm. But she couldn’t see his good looks anymore.
Potion or no, she always saw his plump green form with his
nose protruding out from his face, sunken, red beady eyes, and
rotted teeth. She cringed, pulled her panties down, and handed
them over without touching his sandpaper skin.

Good thing she wore a skirt when he forced her to go out.
His magic compelled her to do his bidding, so to speak. The only
thing she had control over was what she wore—otherwise, her
petite body took over without using her mind—just her desire.
It consumed her beyond thought. Right before she materialized
back to Malik her body became hers again. She’d been doing this
for the better part of two years. Still, she hadn’t found a cure or
even a witch to counter the goblin magic. Though she had run
into rumors—rumors she fully intended to investigate in order
to free herself. Hell, most of the magic users she had spoken with
hadn’t even come across this particular curse, as if the goblin had
made the spell for her alone. She wouldn’t put it past a nasty goblin
to have thought that far ahead, scouted her out even. Though
he never gave her any inclination he had done so.

“He must not have been that good-looking, or perhaps the
chemistry was off a bit. These barely have anything to work with.
You’ll have to go find another.” Malik stuck the panties into a boiling
pot. Blue smoke rose up and he turned the fire down from the

“It’s been two years since I’ve had an orgasm. Can’t you just
give me some time? Why don’t I sit right here and play with myself
until you have what you want.”

“You know that’s not how it works. How many times do we
have to have this conversation? You are in my debt. You can’t get
off and I won’t allow you to. Your desire must be induced by a
male, or my potion can’t turn me male. You are just that special.”
He turned and smiled at her. Malik poured the contents of the pot
into a magically charged glass jar. Her panties evaporated, and as
the contents cooled, it turned into a blue gel.

Clover had no special qualities to make her stand out. He just
liked to torture her. Her frustration mounted. “Look here, no one
can get me off, and I can’t get myself off. What do you think will
happen to me without ever getting release? It’s worse than a male
with blue balls.”

“It will be most interesting to see what happens. Let’s call it
our little Clover experiment. Do keep me posted on your condition.
Now be a good little elf and get me more juice. Pick someone
who really gets you stirred. Take your time so you don’t have to
go through this process again tonight.” He flicked his wrist and
her underwear appeared in his hand, dry and clean.

Clover snatched them from him, slid them on, and stormed
out of the quaint little cottage. She had stomped down two steps
when the familiar draw came and the goblin’s magic moved her
into the nether, materializing her outside an upscale bar in the
middle of downtown Nirra, one of the many elven cities parallel
to the human realm. Malik chose to live on the human side.

A steady dance beat blared out from the bar. Females in silks
and fur skirted in and out of the place. Clover looked up at the
name, Reed, carved in fancy black letters lit across a silver background.
The glass doors swung open and two women giggled as
they clutched the arm of a guy dressed to the nines. She straightened
her skirt, plumped her breasts, drew her blouse down to
catch cleavage, and headed inside. Black pumps clicked on the
pavement as Clover walked past patrons filing out. A gentleman
held the door for her and desire kicked into high gear. Her body
vibrated, and overcome with a need to feel hands on her, she
rubbed palms along her hips and sashayed forward.

“Can I buy you a drink?” a voice asked from her left.

Clover glanced over. Too short. “No thanks.” She moved up
to the bar. Luckily, a seat sat open at the end. She slid onto the
stool and waited for the bartender to come over. He had his back
turned towards her, with several females vying for his attention.
She turned in the seat and placed an elbow back on the bar for balance
as she searched the crowd. She needed tall, dark, and predatory.
Someone with some spunk. Lately she’d been feeling a bit
feisty and wanted—scratch that, needed—a challenge. Someone
who could back her into a wall and trap her between it and his
hard cock. The small thought sparked her lust higher.

The crowd pumped to the beat on the dance floor but no one
caught her eye. As she surveyed the bar area, most of the men
were either with someone or not in her age group. Neither being
conducive to her need.

“What can I getcha?” a deep, masculine voice asked behind

“A shot of Jack.” Clover didn’t bother to look back. She uncrossed
her legs, re-crossed them, and finally spotted a potential
panty-wetter. He’d just walked through the door and his eyes
searched the crowd. She waited for him to spot her. He seemed in
good shape, a solid form from this distance. From here, he looked
to be at least taller than her five-foot-two frame. He’d ponytailed

his blond hair back. He glanced up and blue eyes found hers. Gotcha.
Clover fluttered her lashes, grinned, and nodded him over.
She twirled around. The shot of Jack sat on the bar. She picked
it up, brought the glass to her lips, and tossed it back. When her
eyes opened, she came face-to-face with a smoldering emerald
gaze. The blond no longer had a chance.


If you have enjoyed this sample of
Tempting Clover: The Trouble With Elves,Book 2
Check out the full version at:

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