The Bard rolled initiative for combat, but the Goblin rolled for foreplay.
"Step aside Goblin! Or I shall move you by force!" the twink Bard said. But the Goblin didn't move. "Roll initiative, goblin, combat begins!" "Yes, foreplay begins" the Goblin grinned. The Bard casts Vicious Mockery. Manifesting in the words: "Thou willy is as short as thou temper!" It's a psychological slap in the face to the goblin and he takes five damage. The Goblin gasps… In arousal! "Hmm, yes! "You, you like this?" "No, I don't! I hate it. Don't continue, pretty please," the Goblin lies through his horny teeth. "You're a sick pervert." "Oh, yes! That hits the spot!" The Goblin casts Web all over himself. A silky white, sticky substance covers him entirely. "No! I didn't mean to cast Web so prematurely! Now I'm all stuck. There's nowhere I can go! I hope there's no handsome half-heterosexual half-elf to take advantage of me!" Being stuck in the bondage of his own magical ejaculation, the Bard couldn't help finding the Goblin's vulnerability enticing. He wasn't the ugliest goblin he'd ever seen. The pimples on his nose glimmered under the morning son. He could see the Goblin's pronounced muscles move under his fake attempt to break free. "I'm gonna roll a dexterity check to break free from these terrible webs," said the horny goblin. "Oh no, a critical miss? Now I can't move at all! If only someone with extreme dexterity and a toned body could break me out," he winked at the Bard. The Bard casts another Vicious Mockery - "I shan't bed with you, thou hair is so thin thou shall be bald in a fortnight." "OH YES! Keep going!" exulted the goblin. The Bard was on edge. This was the second strangest goblin he had encountered thus far. As he stepped closer, he noticed his foe's unusual armor. Instead of metal, the goblin was wearing heavy black leather. Tightly wound around his skin. He pondered if a melee attack would be fruitful, unsure of his enemy's Armor Class. "It's your turn, goblin! Fight me!" The goblin reached into his satchel. The Bard braced for the weapon he might reveal. Only to find the Goblin grabbing TWO NIPPLE CLAMPS! The Bard raised his sword to strike, but wherever he sliced, the nipple clamps magically protected the goblin. "Impossible!" "Not only do these look great on me. These bad boys also give me +10 AC." "That doesn't make any sense.' "Neither does love, but here we are," the goblin said, biting his lip. "Silly bard, there's only one weapon that can harm me…" the goblin pulled out of his bag a SPANKING PADDLE! He tosses it at the bard and serves his buttocks as a ready dish.
By the lord of light, Lathandor! This is a foe unlike any the Bard had ever seen.
The Bard met the Goblin's smoldering gaze. He flinched. The Goblin emitted heat, warmth, and unyielding desire. The Bard averted his eyes, scared he would take fire damage if he lingered any longer in that oceanic blue. "You deny the lust within, half-elf. A costly mistake. I cast DETECT THOUGHTS." The Bard immediately felt a force witnessing him. Layers of his inner prude mental onion quickly peeled away. He wasn't ready for this sudden vulnerability, so he put on the same defenses he did when trying not to ejaculate prematurely. A voice echoed within: *Stop thinking about your wrinkled granny, although she's a very sexy lady. The goblin rummaged in his mind further. *Embrace your desires*. The goblin continued to cast Mage Hand dangerously close to the Bard. Then, it caressed his hair and face with a gentle touch. *Let go of your barriers. Surrender to yourself. To your essence. I know you like to suck toes.
SILENCE! The Bard screams. The goblin had managed to extract his deepest fetish. During his half-elf puberty, he had encountered a monster with a dozen feet. Somehow, the memory manifested itself, fueled by pubescent testosterone, and flowered into a grand feet fetish. He just loved sucking on toes. It gave him satisfaction he could not describe in any language. When he came to think of it, the Goblin had a "feet-like" look to him.
I can read your name. It's aptly chosen for you. Say it. "My name is… Dick Ballfondler."
The Goblin casts a minor illusion of a FOOT dangling salaciously in front of the Bard. "YES! SUCK ITTT. EMBRACE YOURSELF!" the Goblin squealed.
The Bard had never felt so torn. He wanted to suck the illusionary toes more than anything.
"Stop this illusion, Goblin, I beg you!" "I am only creating this illusion to lift the one you've cast on yourself!" *Embrace the toes. Suck on them. Yes, you are weird. That is ok.
The Bard fought as hard as he could against the intruder. But when his gaze returned to the Goblin, he felt caressed. Warm. He suddenly didn't see the goblin as an enemy but as a friend with good intentions. The Goblin's crude forms suddenly appeared soft. Like how an attractive person making an ugly remark instantly makes them hideous, the goblin had the opposing effect.
I will not force you into anything, Dick Ballfondler. I merely ask you to accept yourself "How did you know?" "half-elves might have a dark vision, but I have a gay vision, and I rolled a nat 20 on my perception check." "Who are you? And why must you confuse me so?" "I am Harold, Harbringer of Homosexuals"
Like for more Adventures of Dick Ballfondler on the journey to his sexual awakening.