From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem
Chapter 62: Stretch Me Goood!

Chapter 62: Stretch Me Goood!

Alice lay there, her breath shallow, her mind unraveling like yarn in a storm.

All the memories from that day.

The day she had drunk his strange, thick green juices, rushed back into her like a tsunami of sin.

Her thighs clenched. Her kitty began to purr again, funnelling heat like a freshly stoked furnace.

And finally... finally, she understood.

Why she came here.

Why she’d been so conscious of her appearance.

Why she’d worn the cloak, the dress beneath, styled her hair just right, why she hadn’t even shown Alex or Celeste.

It wasn’t just for the team.

It wasn’t just for recovery.

It was for him.

Rae.

The way he made her feel like a woman again.

Not just a healer, or a mage, or a milk factory for her baby.

But a real woman—a sexy, desired woman.

Someone who could surrender.

Someone who could be led, pushed, claimed.

She came here for that. For him.

But like all good fantasies, this one snapped back to reality.

Rae had already climbed off her and tugged the blanket up to her shoulders like the perfect little gentleman he pretended to be.

Just like that, the warmth of his body left her back... but not her heart. He was still here. Still within arm’s reach.

It was only a matter of time.

’What the hell am I thinking?!’

She shook her head vigorously, burying her face into the pillow.

She wasn’t going to do anything.

She was going to be a good girl.

Even if he lay beside her, curled up like an innocent gremlin, whispering sweet obscenities in his sleep, she would not give in.

She promised herself.

...Again.

"Gud nighd, Madame. Rae bill cum cheg on u domorrow."

Rae said sweetly as he waddled toward the tent’s entrance.

Alice blinked, confused, lifting her head slightly and peeling the bedsheet off her face like a disgruntled ghost.

"Where are you going at night?"

"Oh, Rae ish now sdaying widh Melissa-madame."

’What?’

"...Why?"

"U Madame need brober resd. And Melissa-madame is goooood caredaker... Bye~"

There was a rhythm in that "good." A swing. A damn melody.

Before she could string together a coherent sentence, Rae slipped out of the tent like a mischievous raccoon.

"...What the hell?"

Alice stared at the empty entrance flap, baffled and utterly flabbergasted.

That "good" wasn’t just innocent praise.

That was capital G good.

That was "gawk gawk five thousand" kind of good.

She had thought he was going to stay.

That maybe—maybe—the other guy was gonna show up later in the night and—

"Stop it, Alice!"

She slapped her cheeks, hard enough to sting, and yanked the blanket over her head like it could smother her thoughts.

She wasn’t going to cry just because someone didn’t grope her again.

She was a strong, independent woman.

A strong woman who, under the safety of her blanket, winced as the memory of his grip replayed in her mind.

Gods, he had grabbed her—like her chest was a divine artifact and he was claiming ownership in the name of Lust himself.

One tight, merciless squeeze and—bam—milk everywhere. Like someone popped a milk balloon.

Her breasts still ached from the sudden, forbidden ejection. Still felt warm.

"I am going nuts..."

She whispered, curling into herself.

...

The next day, everything was perfectly normal... for everyone else in the camp.

Except for Alice.

Alice was not okay.

She was jittery. Restless. Her thighs kept rubbing together with a mind of their own.

Every step she took made her feel like she was about to explode.

Her kitty was burning. Not like a gentle candle flame—but like a wildfire in heat, clawing at her from the inside.

And Rae acted like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t clamped down on her overflowing boobs like they were stress balls and then bounced, leaving her to marinate in the aftermath.

She caught glimpses of him throughout the day—chipper, innocent, borderline saintlike. And every time, she wanted to scream.

’You lit the fire, you little bastard! At least help me put it out!’

But she said nothing.

Because technically, it was an accident.

The Rae she saw now—this wide-eyed, chirpy childlike version—he didn’t do anything wrong.

But the other one?

Oh, gods.

If he had been the one in that bedsheet mess last night, she would’ve had to tap out. Beg for mercy.

Probably black out from overstimulation.

’Am I seriously fantasizing about him already? The monster version?’

Yes. Yes, she was.

She was a lost cause. A walking, talking, milky mess of a woman.

"When can we fight again?"

The annoying voice pulled her out of her spiral.

It was Alex—her husband. Her useless husband.

The same guy who got one-shotted by a glorified teenager.

Honestly, she was embarrassed for him. And for herself.

Was this really the man she married?

She bit her lower lip hard enough to leave a dent.

’He’s doing his best. Don’t judge him. Be supportive. Be a good wife...’

But then again, what kind of wife spends her nights thinking about another man’s goblin juice and moans into her pillow like a sinful schoolgirl?

’Goddamn. What the hell is this change in me?’

The change didn’t happen overnight.

It was years of slow erosion.

Of silence, of rejection, of Alex brushing her hand away when she reached for him in bed.

Of his lips never pressing against her skin, of cold shoulders and colder nights.

Alice hadn’t just fallen into this mess of emotion and desire.

She had been starved into it.

Love is a basic need.

And what happens when the one who’s supposed to give it—refuses?

Neglect breeds resentment.

And when resentment bubbles long enough, it only takes a spark to blow it open.

In her case, the spark had fangs and sharp eyes and hands that gripped her breasts like they were life-saving floatation devices.

The spark made her feel wanted. Alive. Like a woman again, not just a healer, or a hero’s neglected wife.

It shattered the brittle shell of tolerance she had built around herself.

"Alice..."

Alex’s voice pierced through her thoughts.

She blinked, turned, and met his gaze. A smile automatically formed—soft, rehearsed.

"Yes?"

"Can we? In... uh, a day? With proper rest like this?"

She nodded, keeping her tone even.

"Yes. One more day should do."

"Good," he sighed in relief. "Also, make sure Celeste or Melissa don’t sneak off into the forest without us."

She had to bite her tongue not to snap at him.

’And what would change if you were there, huh? You’d just get knocked out again...’

But she swallowed the thought. She always did.

"I’ll make sure."

Just then, footsteps approached—soft, quick, familiar.

Rae entered, carrying a stack of freshly cleaned towels.

The moment Alice heard his steps, her heart jumped.

She tried not to react, but the rhythm, the weight, the sheer presence of him sent a thrill up her spine.

He came up behind her, close—too close.

He was standing just a few centimetres from where she was sitting. She didn’t dare turn around.

"Here, Madame..."

He said, lowering the towels on his hands.

"Th-thank you..."

Alice stammered before accepting the towel. Just then, Lyra spoke up from her bed.

"Ah, just the man I was looking for."

Alice froze.

What the hell is she talking about?

And when did this two gotten closer?

Then she said something that made Alice’s whole heart jump out of her chest.

"I need you to stretch me goood after this, okay?"