Academy Days: Mechanist’s Club – 5 [❤️❤️]

When you first came to Camelot University, you never expected to find anything that would rival Crucible College’s reputation for arcanomech. Sure, there are engineering classes, alchemy classes, even a few advanced arcanomech courses…but none of them hold a candle to CC’s legendary reputation. At Crucible College, they hold an awesome construct-on-construct competition every semester. Races, destruction derbies, full-on-no-fricks-given-slugfests…

In Camelot, you get fines if the arcanomech makes too much noise. Which is a load of hydra crap! The louder and weirder the noise the arcanomechanism makes, the cooler it is!

Unfortunately, Crucible College doesn’t accept goblins.

If you were going to let a bunch of turd-sniffing dusty old dwarves slow you down, you wouldn’t be Lightspeed. So, you came to Camelot University and revived the arcanomechanist club. You dug through the archives, found the old club book (one of those massive old books dwarves love to use to record history, grudges, and blueprints), took a bunch of classes, and now the arcanomechanist club is big middle finger to all the dwarves who said official goblin designs weren't possible. Or 'safe'.

This is your fourth year here. Unless you get several teachers or, impossibly, have some important noble dandy sponsor you…this will be your last year here.

You’ll be the first to admit, you’re not exactly pleasant to be around. Loud, foul-mouthed, rough around the edges, adrenaline junkie that you are, anybody impressed by your skills isn’t all that impressed with your personality. So the chances of you coming back next year are practically nil.

You’re not really the feelings gal. You live to build, go fast, and build it again to go even faster. But damn it if the thought of leaving the club doesn’t make your eyes go all misty. You and the girls, plus that big lug Thursday…and Snik (you always forget the tiny guy is, well, a guy) are the best team you could have asked for.

A few days ago you presented the team your final project idea. Normally, you’d go for something that goes super fast…this time, you want everyone involved! Damned if you don’t give your last semester one big hurrah!

A giant.

Freakin.

Robot.

The club cheered so loud when you unveiled the blueprint you thought the roof would collapse on you! Thursday even seemed super into it, his roar of approval shaking the triplets off his body like a volcano shrugs off landslides.

You should have recognized the looks some of the girls gave him.

You sigh and rub your forehead as you look at all the drawings in the blueprint margins. This is a team effort, and sometimes teams come with…friction. You were originally against having a guy join the club when Snik first joined, but there hadn’t been any problems with him! When you saw that meathead Thursday open the machine entrance with his bare hands, you thought it’d be worth it to have someone to move the heavy stuff around.

Now look who’s eating crow.

Uuuugh, this is going to be so awkward to bring up!

You slap your cheeks and amp yourself up. You can do this! As a leader, it’s your duty! You reach for the vox-tube, your voice echoing through the shop.

“Thursday, get your butt in here!”

You wince. Poor choice of words, considering.

The largest of the goggled people on the work floor puts down his tools and makes his way up to your office. He takes off his goggles and pulls down the wyrmscale scarf meant to protect him from the heat. You steeple your fingers and stare at him, red eyes meeting nervous purple. He shuffles in his overalls, a bit thicker in the gut than you remember.

Maybe it’s someone’s wishful thinking.

“…Am I getting kicked out of the club?”

“What?” You blink a few times. “No, you meathead. Just…Tell me what you think about this.”

You show him the communal blueprints, the messy notes and schematics in dozens of different handwriting barely hiding the detailed sketches in the margins. Thursday rubs his beard, eyes widening as he flips through the pages. There must be over a hundred different drawings of Thursday, each more detailed than the last. Flexing his biceps, stretching his back, showing off his glutes…very little is left to the imagination.

Worse is that more space is left in the margins, several different handwritings you recognize commenting on the drawings. ‘Nice’ with an arrow pointed at his abs, ‘Dude could bench-press a mountain’ with a cartoon goblin salivating over his shoulders, and most damning of all, ‘WOULD’ with a thick circle around where his groin would be.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times and pats his stomach.

“It’s…nice? I guess?” He shrugs. “I worked hard for these gains, it’s nice that they appreciate it.”

You bite your lip. You hate having this conversation. Thursday’s a human, so he’d be ignorant about goblins. Plus, most Prillians in general have a weird…thing…regarding reproduction. You’re from a really secluded part of the Golbin Coast, so it was a bit of a culture shock. Still, you’ve had the talk several times before.

But that was with your brothers, when they first entered puberty and the neighborhood girls started getting handsy. Thursday is a fully-grown man.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “When a man and a woman like each other very much—”

“Woah, woah! I know about sex.” Thursday squirms, and it almost sounds like there’s a squeak in his midsection. “I, uh, never expected you to bring it up.”

Oh, thank the Matron. You never expected to have to give the sex talk to an underclassman.

“I’m flattered, but you’re not exactly my type, and—OW!”

Dumbass! You put down the yardstick, face a dark green blush. Thursday rubs his nose with a wince.

“Not why I brought it up! Dunderheaded idiot!”  You huff and sit back down, steepling your fingers in a way that says you're professional, but not too professional. “I wanted to let you know that goblin women can be a bit…aggressive. And from the looks of it, one of the club members has got a particularly bad case of broodmadness. It’s rare nowadays, but it can be a problem. Do you know who it might be?”

“…are you going to kick her out of the club?”

“If I have to.”

“Then, no.” Thursday shakes his head resolutely. “I don’t want to lose anybody on the team. Especially not when it’s just some harmless sketches of my killer bod.”

Your heart swells. He's thick, but he’s got a head for numbers, a body for moving, and the heart…of something really loyal. Okay, you may not be good at metaphors, but you can appreciate loyalty.

You sigh. He doesn’t understand the risks.

“Thursday. This,” you point at the drawings, “is a big distraction. Worse, the others will catch it, leaving you…and Snik, I guess, surrounded by goblin girls in heat. There have been goblins who died from a broodmadness frenzy.”

You shudder when you think of the fate of your grandfather. Poor guy was a local legend, one of the only male goblins to survive a manticore attack on your hometown. Sadly, his heart gave out a few months later. He’s why you’ve got so many cousins back home.

“Could we finish the robot without everyone working on it?” He asks, a robot-loving gleam in his eye.

Damn it all! The loyal, giant-robot-loving, fool!

“No.” You grit your teeth. “We can’t.”

“Then we have no choice.” He crosses his arms, another little squeak coming from his midsection. A toy, maybe? “No more distractions, Chief. I’ll handle it, promise.”

He extends a large hand. Your smaller hand meets his in an explosion of determination, and you shake, joined by a cause greater than blood or country: the dream of driving a giant, awesome, kickass, multi-pilot robot.

“Damn it, Thursday.” You stand on your desk to meet him in the eye. “You better keep your promise.”

“A man is nothing without his word.” He nods, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. “We’ll have that robot running before the end of the semester.”

He leaves you in your office, still riding the high of an impact-frame dap. You settle back into your seat and deal with the other, more annoying part of the job: resource procurement. The club has a stipend for its materials, and you’re not one to cut corners. Normally, you’d get the magical reagents and beet-fuel from a wood elf that goes by Tess. You haven’t been able to reach her lately.

There’s still materials in storage, but you can’t go far in testing without the special beet-fuel Tess gets you. You may have to look into alternative fuels, more magically oriented ones. Snik is the macro-ritual specialist, right?

He should be able to help. You don’t see his small frame on the shop floor, though. Where is the little scamp?

“Lightspeed found the yaoi.” You tell the triplets.

They immediately stop what they’re doing. The Thursday Appreciators meet up weekly, or whenever you’re all feeling pent up, at one of the abandoned factories near the arcanomechanists club. You spend your time arguing about who Thursday is a best match with, how to get his dick more often, and drawing lewd images of the buff human. Since Thursday often introduced himself as ‘ya boi’, the Thursday Appreciators used shorthand to talk in code when referring to the sketches. From ‘ya boi’ to ‘yaoi’.

The problem was that the invisible ink to draw in the margins of the club notebooks didn't stay invisible for long.

You are Snik, and you only know this because you offered yourself to Thursday as portable onahole. It took a lot of convincing, some generous ass-to-leg rubbing, and a few lines the triplets had prepped for you. Within the hour, you were pressed against his body, his cock firmly lodged up your boipussy. It would have been great, until Lightspeed called him into her office.

Afterwards, he pulled you off his titanic, throbbing, wonderful cock and gave you a stern talking to, but…You were a bit distracted since he’d cum so much inside you! Your tiny green pecker was still twitching from the repeated beating your prostate took.

“Dang it, Tumble!” Grumble snaps. “I knew that the ink needed more lemon juice!”

“Uuuuuu~” Tumble moans from the vibrating saddle in the middle of the room, her entire body jiggling from the intense vibrations as the machine digs into her pussy. “I-I’m s-s-sorry!~”

“That’s the least of our worries.” Bumble closes her notebook. “Knowing what we do now, ‘broodmadness’ would be a term for goblin women free from the ECS. Lightspeed’s on the lookout for girls with broodmadness…Girls like us.”

Bumble and Grumble rub their abdomens softly and blush. You find your hand in the same position, and you know they carry the same urge as you. Yet theirs is possible, and the inner desire you've gestated within since the Lunar Celebration is…not. You try not to let your disappointment show.

“Thursday did warn us this could happen.” Grumble drums her fingers on the table. “We’ll be found out eventually. The other club members will eventually figure it out and squeal!”

“N-n-n-yeeeeees!~” Tumble squeals, a spray of feminine juices running down her naked thighs.

“We can’t involve them.” Bumble purses her lips. “Too much risk.”

Why not? Everyone in the club knows that Thursday brews his own beer. The entire club is used to keeping secrets. After all, nobody from the Prillian Illicit Substances Division busted down the doors of the club to arrest you.

“It’s not like they’re not already salivating after him…” You mutter. “Someone’s been leaving comments on the sketches.”

Bumble raises an eyebrow. Grumble rolls her eyes. Tumble shakily gets off the saddle and sashays to Bumble’s side, kissing her older sister’s cheek as her fingers play with her constantly drooling cunny. Bumble sighs and brings a vibrator wand between Tumble’s legs, the middle sister giggling giddily as she mounts up to another orgasm.

Bumble doesn’t join her, in large part due to the bracelets the three are wearing. Being constantly horny all the time has eaten up into their time, so you helped them miniaturize joined ritual circles that would transfer their collected horniness into just one of them.

The concept isn’t new; ancient goblin ritual magic had many instances of centralizing aspects of many donor goblins into one recipient, known as a ‘hobgoblin’. Most of the time it was traits like ‘strength’ or ‘cleverness’, but you’ve tweaked it to collect ‘horniness’. Normally, you’d need much bigger rituals with sacrificial components, but the triplets are so similar that you only needed to sacrifice a bit of body heat for the ritual to activate properly.

“Why do you want more girls to join us, anyways?” Grumble pokes you. “Aren’t you happy you get to act as Thursday’s relief at the club?”

Yes. The problem is you’re the only one that acts as his onahole at the club. It’s part of the reason you worked out the ritualism bracelets. The triplets insist so much, it almost feels like they’re living vicariously through you! Not to mention the strange aversion they have to inviting others into the Thursday Appreciation club. Being the only one who regularly takes care of Thursday’s fat cock is a pain in the ass…

“Yeah, I like it. It’s just…”

It’s not like you’d get everything you wanted if he fucked you some more. You catch yourself rubbing your stomach again, right where a womb would be. Shame and irritation rushes through you again.

“Mmmm~ I get it.” Tumble moans, grinding her crotch deeper on the massage wand. “Snik has got a worse case of broodmadness than the three of us combined.”

You freeze. The other two stare at you in surprise and you shrink away.

“But…Snik’s a boy?” Bumble cocks her head. “He can’t have broodmadness.”

“Yeah, that’d be dumb. Only goblin women get broodmadness.” Grumble crosses her arms. “Men just get horny.”

“Welllll~” Tumble pushes the wand deeper inside her and bites her lip. “Then Snik isn’t a boy! ‘Cause you wanna get pregnant, right?~ You want to get stuffed full of Thursday’s kids and spend the rest of your life rearing them, right?~”

She whispers that last bit in your ear and you whine, your traitorous member stiffening under your clothes. Stupid penis. Stupid Tumble. Stupid you, for dreaming everything Tumble has mentioned and more. You want to get pregnant. You want to bear Thursday’s kids. You want to populate a village with his young. Just the thought of it alone is enough to—

Ah. You came in your clothes again. The triplets see you twitch and they know Tumble is right.

“Frick, you have it bad, hmmm?~” Tumble bites the tip of your ear. “I think you’d make a great brood—”

Embarrassed and irritated, you rip the wand out of Tumble’s cunt. She yelps and a spray of arousal jets from her wet folds, her bracelet crackling with energy.

Crap, pleasure overload! Bumble and Grumble fall to the ground and yelp, the feedback slamming into them like a runaway train. A kink you still haven’t worked out from the ritual bracelets rears its ugly head, sending the three of them into a pleasure feedback loop. The same orgasm bounces between them, getting them hornier with each cycle until they inevitably pass out.

The last time this happened, they passed out for the entire weekend. The only way to delay it would be to pleasure themselves.

They rip off their clothes and shakily scamper to the vibrating saddle, the three of them mounting it ass-to-pussy to ride out the orgasms. Tumble is at the front, tongue lolled out as she grinds her already-abused cunny deeper on the saddle. Grumble plays with her breasts, mashing them violently as she bites her sister’s shoulder. Her glare, aimed at you, rolls back as Bumble gets behind her and caresses her inner thighs.

“Mfffm~ Snik!” An orgasm hits Bumble, then Tumble, then Grumble, each successive climax shuddering their bodies deeper onto the saddle. “Fix this! We’ve got a-ahn~ test tomorrow!”

Crap, crap, crap!

You grab a piece of chalk and hastily scrawl a ritual circle around the triplets. It’s based on an idea you’ve been entertaining and encompasses most of the room, using the original pipes and wiring as conduits for the circle. Theoretically, it should siphon off the ‘femininity’ from donors, though you’re modifying it as you go to also pull the horniness away from the room. Following the pipes, you’ll be able to pull the traits to somewhere near the entrance of the building, by the long-abandoned oil refiners.

You spare a glance at the triplets. Tumble and Bumble are making out, and the middle sister in front is almost unconscious from the pleasure, fingers flicking her innie nipples as she sways back and forth. A puddle of femcum steadily spreads as the arousal drips from the saddle.

“You b-better fix this!” Grumble breaks the kiss to growl at you.

“Shut up and kiss me, sis~” Bumble moans and pulls her back in.

“Weee-eeee-eeee!~” Tumble grinds her clit into the saddle.

Since you’re different from the triplets, the circle has to be more complicated and requires a powerful ‘sacrifice’. You quickly pile a bunch of reactive potions in the sacrificial circle, hoping that the inherent magic and potential energy would be enough to affect you.

You were never brave enough to try it. It’s purely theoretical. Yet, you find yourself blushing and getting excited. Even if it doesn’t work, the basics of the ritual ensure that you’ll shoulder most of the horniness for the triplets. And if it does…maybe your deepest desires can come true.

Now all you need is to step into the recipient zone and—The circle activates.

What? You haven’t even left the room yet!

The triplets’ climaxes slow down, their identical boobs and butts shrinking somewhat. They go from D-cups to C’s, then B’s, as their facial features become plainer and their hair grows duller. Your butt shrinks as well, your hips narrowing by an entire foot. You sadly pat the flat ass that Thursday only so recently call the ‘most fuckable butt in Camelot’.

Who…Who’s in the recipient zone? Who stole your butt?!

The triplets have been acting odd for a while now. You chalked it up to freshmen being freshmen, only for your ex to start being more furtive than usual. Snik has always been a bit shy, even when you were dating him last year. But the way he and the triplets cling to Thursday, plus the sketches that have been appearing in the communal blueprints…well, it’s got you asking questions.

Not that you mind the drawings. You weren’t the first to leave comments in the margins, and you know you won’t be the last. Even with the protective clothing on, he’s got the physique that makes girls swoon. Hells, you’ve even had him pick up some tools you’ve ‘dropped’ more than a couple times so you can get a good look at his butt when he bends down.

You are Glimmer, and you’re glad the human is so dense.

However, you’ve been curious as to where the triplets and Snik have been going after club meetings. Thursday doesn’t seem like the type to be a bad influence. Still, even if he isn’t your boyfriend anymore, Snik can be very sensitive.

Must protecc!

So you waited by the entrance of the abandoned refinery. An hour passed, then two, and you decided to sneak inside.

Just as you pass the refinement tanks, goosebumps shiver across your body. That’s your only warning as a ritual circle activates around you. You gasp as electricity courses through your changing body.

Your orange hair becomes fuller and more lustrous, your curly tapered cut looking more like it belongs on a supermodel than on a mechanist. Your lips part in surprise, getting plump and juicy as your clothes strain against you. You almost fall over as your center of balance shifts, your thighs, hips, and butt expanding so that become even more bottom heavy than before. Your boobs balloon through your shirt and you yelp when they grow to the size of basketballs and burst through your shirt. You barely have time to question any of this, your hips continuing to expand and stretching your panties into your drooling womanhood, drowning you in a buzz of pleasure.

You pull at your panties, moaning sultrily as they dig deeper into your puffy lower lips. You’re even thicker than Snik now! Your ragged breaths escape from your lungs, a burning sensation in your loins driving you to pull and stretch your panties deeper into your sopping wet entrance.

What is this? Rapid onset broodmadness? Who cares, who cares, dig deeper inside you! Rub your cunt, pinch your dinner-plate sized nipples, taste the nectar flowing from your between your thunderthighs! You catch sight of yourself in a reflection and pull your panties deeper inside you, your pouty lips twisting into a come-hither smile at the view.

You look like one of those statues of Grand Matron Booba! So fertile, so curvy…ready to sire the next ten generations!~

You pull your panties deeper and they snap, jolting through you in a climax that has you spraying fluids from your green cunt like a firehose.

“Oh, crap…”

Maybe normally, you’d be a bit embarrassed upon having your ex see you in torn clothes and cumming repeatedly at the sight of your own reflection. Now though, you lick your lips and jiggle your gigantic tits between your arms and wink. He’s looking manlier than normal…he could impregnate you!~ Stuff you with his brood!~ Breed you, breed you, breed you!~

“‘Oh crap’ is right.” Grumble joins him, already fully naked.

Is she trying to take your man? Doesn’t matter, her wet pussy looks delicious~

The rest of the triplets appear, and after some arguing, they get together to explain what’s going on. You have trouble following, even with your entire hand up your snatch, so they grab a delightfully textured toy and take turns shoving it inside you as they explain.

With your horniness attended to, you have an easier time understanding. Some sort of nation-wide spell you’re supposed to keep secret, how they were trying to keep it under wraps and deal with it using rituals, and Thursday’s involvement in the whole thing. You came several times during the explanation, especially when they brought you into the Thursday Appreciation club room and showed off all the drawings.

“And, unf~, how long am I going to, nnnngh~, be like this?~” You squeeze your tits and cross your eyes as another jet of femcum erupts around the textured dildo. Grumble glares up at you from between your legs, her fingers slick with your arousal, and she twists the dildo deeper inside you. “Hnnnng~ So deep!~”

“Well, you’ve got about three goblin’s worth of broodmadness—” Bumble starts.

“Four.” Tumble interrupts. “Remember Snik?”

“Three and a half goblins worth of broodmadness.” Bumble waves her hand. “Either way, it’s a lot. It shouldn’t last longer than…a week?”

A week of being a fertility idol, cumming your brains out every minute as the heat in your pussy, in your womb continues to grow with need? You whine and your ass cheeks clap together as you anxiously hop in place, moaning as you thrust the dildo deeper inside you. You need something thick and warm, something real. You gaze at Snik and lick your lips.

He shrinks back.

“Oh Sniiik~”

“Sorry, um…my penis isn’t big enough to satisfy you.” He shrugs in a ‘what can you do’ way.

You bite your bottom lip. Is he lying? Somehow, you can tell he isn’t packing much. Some sort of horny matriarch instinct? The dildo Grumble is thrusting inside you is almost as thick and long as your forearm. Not having something shoving inside you leaves you feeling empty in so many ways.

“Thursday, then?” You beg. “He can, mmm~ help, right?”

They wince.

“Yeeeeah, he’d be disappointed in us…” Bumble rubs the back of her head.

“He’ll probably refuse to put out for a while if he finds out we messed up…” Tumble nervously touches the tips of her fingers together.

“We’re not willing to risk that…” Grumble mumbles from underneath.

“T-then make a ritual circle using those massive tanks of essence you have stored over there!” You shriek, pointing at the source of the masculine essence your senses have been scream at you to wallow in. “J-just get a fat, ahhnn~ DICK inside me, stat! Or so help me Booba, I’ll go to Lightspeed right now!”

Bumble, Tumble, and Snik race off to set up the ritual. When they uncap the distilled essence they’ve been harvesting from Thursday, your knees collapse from underneath you and your fat ass lands on Grumble’s face. You watch them set up the ritual, flicking your obscene nipples and grinding yourself deeper onto the dildo as Grumble’s struggles to get air drive you into moaning orgasm after orgasm. The dildo kisses the entrance to your womb, your walls squeezing the textured toy as they begin the ritual…and exploding another flood of arousal between your legs as the essence concentrates on Snik’s crotch.

His pants erupt, a foot-long schlong and orange-sized testicles slapping between his thighs, a virile scent drowning your mind in want. He gapes at it, his small hands running up and down the length as it grows.

“This is…Thursday’s cock…” He says, almost lovingly.

You are a good goblin. You want to be bred. You want that cock to breed you so hard.

You crawl on all fours towards the delicious member, your ass lifting up with a trickle of fluids as Grumble sputters for air. Your tits brush against the ground, full and matronly, perfect to feed an entire litter of cute goblin children.

The dildo slips out of your slick entrance and you present yourself to Snik’s mighty cock. A haze of lust overcomes him and he slides his member inside you with a groan so manly, you almost doubted it came from him.

He thrusts into you, your shortstack body rocking back and forth as your inner walls clamp down on his member, desperate to keep his virile warmth inside you.

“YES~ YES~ YES~!” You scream in ecstasy, orgasms blending together in an never-ending avalanche of pleasure. “CUM INSIDE~ BREED ME~ HARDER~!”

Snik cums and you squeal, your ovaries twitching in delight as his spooge fills your insides. And he keeps going, keeping you in a fog of pure pleasure as he shoots load after load inside you, stuffing your womb so much that you take on a maternal swell.

The sun is low in the sky when you’re finally satisfied. You pat your gurgling belly, as round and as firm as a beach ball, and sigh contently as Snik’s thick seed spills from between your fat pussy lips.

The hunger is finally gone.

But if they think you’re going to keep this ‘ECS’ stuff from the others, they’ve got another thing coming~