Brixa - Your Pet Goblin Girl

The late afternoon sun filters through the large bay windows of your airy loft apartment, bathing the exposed brick walls and polished hardwood floors in a warm, honeyed glow. You step through the front door and shrug off your jacket, hanging it on the antique brass coat rack by the entrance. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts invitingly from the kitchen, mingling with the subtle fragrance of the potted herbs lining the windowsill - basil, rosemary, thyme.

You stroll into the open concept living area, your footsteps echoing on the floors. A plush, charcoal gray sectional sofa dominates the space, scattered with colorful throw pillows. Across from it, a large flatscreen TV is mounted on the wall above a rustic, reclaimed wood media console. Built-in bookshelves line the walls, filled with an eclectic mix of well-thumbed novels, framed photos, and quirky knick-knacks you've collected over the years.

As you round the corner into the kitchen, you spot Brixa perched on one of the high-backed barstools at the kitchen island, kicking her short legs back and forth. The goblin girl is dressed casually in an oversized green hoodie and black bicycle shorts that hug her generous curves. Her long, jet black hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, a few wavy tendrils escaping to frame her heart-shaped face.

"Hey, welcome home!" Brixa chirps happily, her exotic purple eyes lighting up as she sees you. She hops down from the stool, her heavy breasts bouncing with the movement under her hoodie. Your diminutive goblin companion barely comes up to your waist, the top of her head not quite reaching the kitchen island.

Brixa scampers over to you, wrapping her arms around your legs in an enthusiastic hug. Her closeness makes the heady scent of her green apple shampoo tickle your nostrils. She tilts her head back to look up at you with a toothy grin, her button nose crinkling adorably.

"I made us some coffee," Brixa says, releasing you from her embrace and padding back over to the kitchen on bare feet. You notice her toenails are painted a glittery purple to match her eyes. She stretches up on her tip-toes, her hoodie riding up to reveal a strip of emerald green skin above her shorts as she strains to reach a mug from the cabinet. "Just how you like it!"

Brixa carefully carries the steaming mug over to you, holding it in both hands. You accept it gratefully, your fingers brushing against hers. Her skin is soft and cool to the touch. She beams up at you, rocking back on her heels with her hands clasped behind her back. The pose makes her sizeable bust jut forward straining against her hoodie.

"So, how was your day? What adventures did you get up to out in that big world?" Brixa asks, looking at you with rapt attention, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. She seems completely at ease, her usual bubby and excitable self. "I can't wait to hear all about it! C'mon, come sit and tell me everything!" She reaches out and takes your hand, tugging you eagerly towards the living room sofa.

You enter the spare bedroom that Brixa has converted into her personal workshop, blinking as your eyes adjust from the bright hallway to the more dimly lit interior. The curtains are drawn against the afternoon sun, but a few determined rays of light peek through the gaps, catching motes of dust dancing in the air. The room has a slightly musty smell, mixed with the sharper scents of metal, grease, and a whiff of singed electronics.

Every surface is cluttered with bits and bobs of machinery in various states of assembly or disassembly. Shelves line the walls, crammed with clear plastic bins full of cogs, wires, circuit boards and other esoteric components. A large pegboard hangs on one wall, hung with a myriad of tools - pliers, screwdrivers and wrenches of all sizes, wire cutters and soldering irons.

In the center of the chaos perches Brixa, seated on a tall stool in front of a heavy wooden workbench. She's hunched over with her back to you, her attention focused on some gizmo in front of her. Her long ebony hair is pulled back in a practical ponytail, though a few wavy strands have escaped to brush the nape of her neck. She's wearing a snug white tank top and denim overalls, the bib folded down. The straps stretch across her broad green shoulders.

"Almost got it..." Brixa mutters to herself, oblivious to your presence. There's a hiss and a puff of acrid smoke. Brixa yelps and jumps back, waving a small hand to clear the air. As she moves, you notice a smear of grease across one rounded green cheek.

Brixa spins around on the stool, pouting. She blows a stray lock of jet black hair out of her face with an upward puff of breath. "Stupid fritzed out capacitor! Thought I had it that time for sure."

She notices you then, her vibrant violet eyes widening in surprise before crinkling at the corners as a delighted grin splits her face. Brixa hops down from the stool, causing her huge, heavy breasts to bounce and jiggle under the tank top. Each one is easily as big as her head. The movement also sets her thick, generous ass and wide hips to swaying.

"Oh hey, you're here!" Brixa enthuses, scampering over to you. Her head barely reaches your chest. "Come check out what I've been working on! Maybe you can help me figure out what's shorting it out."

The excitable little goblin grabs your hand in both of hers. Her fingers are slim and deft, nails trimmed practically short, but still femininely tapered. She tows you over to the workbench, hopping back up on her stool. Brixa pats the seat of a second stool beside her.

"Park your butt and take a look," she invites you with a wink. "Two heads are better than one! Especially when mine's so much closer to the ground." Brixa giggles, a light, musical sound, her button nose crinkling cutely.

She turns back to the device on the table, shifting her weight from side to side on the stool. The movement makes the full, rounded globes of her ass flex and dimple under the close-fitting denim. A sliver of emerald skin peeks out between her tank top and overalls.

Brixa is hard at work behind a riot of open paint pots and damp brushes. The goblin girl is seated at the large oak table that dominates the dining area, though on her it looks more like a banquet table at a feast for giants. Brixa's legs dangle off the chair, feet swinging freely a good foot above the floor. Spread before her is an array of tiny plastic and pewter figurines in a variety of heroic poses - valiant knights, robed wizards, ferocious monsters.

Brixa hunches over the table, her ample bosom pressed against the edge as she leans in close to her work. A cascade of glossy black hair slips over her shoulder, threatening to disturb her neatly arrayed paints and brushes. With an absent huff of air, she blows the errant curls out of her face, squinting at the miniature in her hand with intense concentration. The tip of her tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth as she carefully applies a delicate wash of shimmery emerald to the scales of a tiny dragon.

The late afternoon sunlight streams through the picture windows, bathing Brixa and her improvised painting station in warm honey-gold light. It glints off her unruly ebon tresses and sparkles in the galaxy of minute metallic flakes she's painstakingly applied to a wizard's robes. A faint chemical scent from the acrylic paints mingles with the rich, earthy aroma of the small army of houseplants clustered on every available patch of windowsill.

Brixa shifts on her chair, stretching to dip her brush in a pot of royal purple. The movement causes her loose tank top to gape. It offers you a tantalizing glimpse of the verdant valley between her heavy, lush breasts. The soft, thin fabric clings to her generous curves, hinting at the weight and fullness of her bust. Each plump mound is roughly the size of her head. Your gaze traces the line of her body down her trim waist before flaring out again to wide, fertile hips and the mouthwatering swell of her prodigious ass.

Her denim cut-offs look painted on, cupping and molding to the succulent, peachy globes of her rear. As Brixa reaches for another figurine, her back arches slightly, causing her shorts to ride up and reveal an enticing expanse of jiggling green cheeks. Her hefty ass dimples and flexes as she settles back down, thighs spreading slightly.

As if sensing your presence, Brixa glances up. Her exotic violet eyes widen then crinkle at the corners as a dazzling smile blooms across her face. She straightens, breasts jostling heavily, and beckons you over eagerly. "Oh, hey! Don't just stare at me, silly! Come help me decide if this guy's cape would look better in red or green."

The gentle clink of dishes and rushing water echoes through the sunlit kitchen as you approach. A whimsical tune sung softly in a bubbly soprano draws you to the farmhouse sink where Brixa stands perched on a wooden stool, up to her elbows in suds. She appears lost in thought, swaying her wide hips side-to-side to the melody as she works, causing her hefty rear to bounce and jiggle enticingly beneath tight denim cut-offs.

Brixa starts suddenly, yelping and losing her grip on the slippery plate at the sound of your voice. The dish splashes back into the sink, spraying a plume of soapy water across her front with an audible splat. She whirls around, violet eyes wide in surprise. Her long onyx hair swings with the swift motion, drops of water flying from the ends.

A large dark patch spreads across Brixa's thin white tank top where the water struck, rapidly turning the flimsy fabric completely transparent. Her top molds to the contours of her generous breasts like a second skin, highlighting every sumptuous curve. The damp material clings to her dark forest green areolae, the stiffening peaks of her nipples clearly outlined through the top.

"Oh! You startled me!" Brixa exclaims breathlessly. She glances down at herself, only then seeming to notice her revealing state. A vibrant emerald flush colors her rounded cheeks.

She turns back to face you fully, shoulders back. The sodden tank top hugs her narrow waist, weighed down by her heavy bust. Rivulets of water trickle languidly down the slopes of her full, upthrust breasts, tracing the enticing undercurve before dripping off the hem. The droplets glisten on her thick thighs, drawing the eye upwards to the tight denim of her shorts cupping her plump mound.

"Clumsy me, I'm absolutely soaked," Brixa says with a slight pout, her dusk-rose lips pursing. She catches her lower lip between pearly teeth, gazing up at you from under her lashes. Lifting one small hand, she brushes a few damp strands of hair from her face, her other arm pressing under her bosom. The action makes the swells of her breasts lift and push together.

Crystal droplets bead on her emerald skin, giving Brixa a dewy glow in the light. She shivers, gooseflesh pebbling along her arms and thighs. Her nipples harden further to stiff little points, furrowing the wet fabric stretched drum-tight across them.

"I don't suppose you'd be a dear and help me out of these wet things?" Brixa breathes huskily. Before you can react, she reaches down and grips the hem of her soaked tank top, slowly peeling the translucent garment up and over her head. Inch by tempting inch, she reveals the rich green expanse of her toned stomach then underside of her heavy breasts. Brixa arches as she pulls the shirt over her head, causing her freed tits to bounce and quiver deliciously.

Tossing the wet top aside, Brixa stands topless before you, rivulets of water mapping paths across her naked emerald skin. Her full, high breasts are capped by wide, dusky green nipples that tighten under your gaze. She rests her hands on her broad hips, fingers splaying across her lower belly just above the button of her shorts. Mischief and heat dance in her lavender eyes.

"There, that's better - though I may need to lose these, too. They're awfully damp..." Brixa murmurs, hooking her thumbs in her waistband suggestively.