Goblin Quest A Brief Forest Rest

"Now that we're clear of Glenwood and their guards, well..." Drow called out from behind his map, "The good news is that the next inn is just one town over, a couple hours from here."

Goblin emerged from the thicket, flapping her tunic to create a breeze across her sweat-drenched chest, relieved by the cool air from the forest cover. In approaching Drow from behind, she caught sight of his tight ass, lovingly shaped by his black leather trousers, and resisted the urge to give it a good slap.

Instead, she stood before him, enthusiastically saluted, and blurted out in a mock soldier voice, "No enemies or threats to report on in the forest's vicinity, SIR!" After a few seconds of realizing that he wasn't going to lower his map to see her, she dropped the pose. "Yeah, and what's the bad news, boss?"

"The bad news", Drow continued, undeterred, "is that if we're to continue our strategy of navigating around the main roads to avoid detection and arrest, we'll be spending the rest of the afternoon entering Panowall Town by way of a hike up a steep hill." Drow's explanation was punctuated by the clapping of parchment, as he laboriously started refolding the map along its worn creases. "Pack, Goblin!" he shouted over the clatter.

She paid no mind at the name he'd been giving her. Several nights ago, in a seedy bar, in the contract they'd hastily drafted and signed, they agreed: no names (or real names, anyway), no backstories, no questions asked. Drow, on the run from the law, needed a shifty sidekick to help him get home, and Goblin needed gold and favored making quips over asking questions. Besides, Drow didn't seem to mind her calling him Drow.

The enormous bag flung from her backside, and landed carefully between them. She crouched and shuffled through the different pockets, until she could find the one he'd reserved for books and documents. "You don't have to talk to me like I'm an animal," she joked. Despite her contract, Goblin made sure he could never get in a command or an order without her pushing back or teasing him, as a matter of personal pride.

"It'd be best if you knew not just how much I regarded you a wild animal."

"Ooh? Is that a flirt? You think I'm a wild beast in the sheets?"

Drow sighed and dropped the map onto the dirt beside her. "Honestly, you green wench..."

She looked up at him with a stupid grin, and immediately recognized how much the tall, shady elf looked even taller while she was crouched over. Cloudy, pale eyes beamed down onto her, seemingly illuminated in contrast to his dark maroon face. A slim, towering pillar of shadow, silhouetted by the late afternoon sky shining down behind him, framed the Demon of Bathnir, capable of levelling small villages with a single incantation. Maybe it was the contract, or the knowledge that he hadn't followed through on any of his threats of torment or punishment the last couple days, but Goblin kept smiling back at the spectre of death.

Drow considered what other words to add. Failing that, he hoped that the silence would intimidate her. "Unbelievable," he finally scoffed after a few seconds, and approached the nearest slanted tree.

"In any case, we're resting here before our trek up the hill." Drow kicked aside a twig, before lowering himself onto a soft dirt patch between the roots and perching his back against the tree trunk, which angled far enough away to allow him to recline. "Don't stray too far, if you're not also napping." His cloudy eyes closed shut, and head pressed firmly against the wood.

Goblin stowed the map and hobbled the hefty sack over to lay it beside Drow. She paused to notice how unexpectedly peaceful his face seemed when his eyes were closed, and his mouth less resembling a scowl. Before he could catch her staring, though, she turned away in search for a comfortable tree to lay against.

But a dumb idea came to mind, then. Before considering any risks or potential outcomes, she committed to the act and turned right back around...

...And sat right on Drow's lap, resting the back of her head against his chest.

"I MEANT," Drow growled, "we're resting 'here' in the forest. Find. Your own. Gods damned tree." Goblin felt his legs quickly shift apart from underneath her, landing her square on the dirt. Despite the cold, firm floor of the forest, she still enjoyed some warmth and softness from his legs now pressing against her sides.

Goblin turned her head, and finding a surprisingly accommodating spot on his chest, decided to keep it there. "What? A hard, cold lump of wood to rest against? Sounds lame. Maybe that works for you elf types, but I found a cozy spot to nap here." She considered tapping his thigh for emphasis, but didn't want to press her luck any further.

"I swear, how can you thieves not know about the rumors about practitioners of magic? Didn't I hire someone with street smarts? Long-term exposure to magical aura can..."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Goblin remained still.

"Whatever." She felt him shuffle around behind her. "If the guards find us, at least you'll still be useful as a body shield."

Goblin realized she'd been holding her breath waiting for his response, and drew out her exhale as long as possible to avoid making a sound. She closed her eyes and prolonged her inhale too, and the aroma of the man she'd crushed on excited her - sweaty, but mixed with the earthy tones of a sunbaked leather vest.

Even while Goblin nestled herself in, her silent celebration quickly gave way to doubts. Surely she couldn't pester her way into sleeping with him, or pull a complete U-Turn from constantly teasing him to earnestly asking him on a date. And if the flirting was doing something for him, would these efforts pay off before she could fulfill her end of the contract? She hoped his damn castle was weeks away. And even if she were successful, what would she want out of this? A one-night stand? Some casual dating? Something more?

She held back a chuckle, picturing Drow sporting a apron in a humble kitchen of a small, charming cottage by the countryside, whipping eggs in a bowl and rolling out bread dough for breakfast for her and their demon dog. It sounded... nice, actually.

Her head slumped from the deep breathing, as the warm feelings lulled her to sleep.

By the time Goblin came to her senses, a dreadful gut feeling had settled, causing the hairs on her skin stand on end. She opened her eyes to find herself sitting completely in the dark. She wondered briefly if she'd overslept.

Goblin sat completely still and peered around, trying to perceive any shapes through the seemingly pitch-black environment. She'd been born and raised in a cave system. She'd been used to night heists. This should not be difficult for her at all, and yet she couldn't make heads or tails of her surroundings. After focusing and unfocusing her eyes, she could finally perceive a vast, dark hole directly before her, the edges of which bordered her peripheral vision.

No, not a hole. A massive entity - even more absent of light than its surroundings, as if its own void starved out any remaining light from the environment - stared back at Goblin. Even having perceived its form, Goblin still struggled to make out its true size or distance away, but the knot in her stomach assured her she was far, far smaller than it. And that gut feeling that'd been gnawing at her also told Goblin that, without any eyes - or perhaps thousands of invisible eyes - it'd began to study her. From front and behind. Inside and outside. All that was visible and even what was obscured or hidden.

Several of her secrets and vulnerabilities began to came to mind. It started with her crimes and hidden activities. Each of her petty thefts, every betrayal of a target for whom she'd won their trust. Then more personal feelings emerged: the guilt of stealing from the more vulnerable, less well-off targets, the disdain of kings, guards, and authority figures, and the depths of fear for her life ending in any number of miserable ways. Alone in a prison cell, executed by the royal guard, backstabbed by a former ally, these scenarios appeared and disappeared before her, dissolving away into the darkness.

Then every detail of the physical objects on her - hidden knives, pocketed gold, and vials of potions and poisons - came to mind. She visualized each item, one by one, but each would eventually dissolve away. Even when she'd try to recall them, she'd struggle to visualize it again. Each recollection, each thought, was a public admission to the enemy, as though it were some supernatural customs official, relinquishing her of her valuables. It saw all of her, and took all from her.

Finally, visions of her clothes came to mind. She gasped, and tried to recall anything else - any memories, facts, or fantasies that could distract her. But each possible thought hung out of her reach, like a name or a word permanently on the tip of her tongue. The harder she searched, the more she was convinced that no thoughts remained.

Her tunic, belt, satchel, pants, and undergarments appeared before her in her mind, one by one, and disappeared. She felt her physical body being observed, top to bottom, even beyond the defenses of her clothes. And to her surprise, she sat there motionless, without any reflexive instinct to cover herself. She flexed her arms and legs, but something restrained her in place. The eyes watched her, and like a rookie thief caught in the act, Goblin froze completely. No mental effort could push her past the threshold to bring her body to flee or fight. No clothes could cover her chest, or stop the eyes from peering down the length of her back and fully view her shapely rear, or examine the reddened labia completely unshielded by her widespread legs, which were locked in place. Even just looking down to see whether she still had clothes on would have been a comfort, but her eyes stayed transfixed to the entity before her.

Words played out in her mind in a voice and language she did not recognize:

Abnaris, Nudroth, Gavoril, Eindrok, Revoll.

Goblin's gut knotted, and her face and skin heated up. Damn, DAMN whoever put her up to this. She continued to tense the muscles in her arms and legs, and when they couldn't move, she tried shaking and tilting her head. Each part of her body felt limp and light until she tried to move them, but each effort felt like shifting through a thick mud.

In lieu of available physical actions to take, Goblin made it her mission to employ every method available to her to rebel and revolt, dedicating all of her thoughts towards hating, and cursing, and imagining horrible, violent acts upon her tormenter. As long as the bastard could read her mind, she thought, she may as well dedicate her counterattack to verbal assaults in her head, as she stared daggers at the general direction of the lightless being.

Jiventu, Urmus, Mortiari, Bhumak, Llevanso, Eclipsium.

As she continued to stare forward, considering other insults to throw at the entity, it racked Goblin's brain how she couldn't recognize its form. For that matter, what forces were at work for restraining her? Who was responsible? Was she under the influence of some spell, or a poison, or some hallucinogenic substance? Even more concerning, how long would this effect last? And if her captor had the motive to restrain her, was she in danger? How in the hells was she not dead already?

She gazed back at the unrecognizable void, losing faith in her senses. The ambiguity of her surroundings was getting to her. Where she previously struggled to conjure any thoughts, questions now flooded her mind, and all she could visualize in the darkness was a vast ocean of unconquered uncertainty, teaming with questions and doubts in the murky depths. She attempted to grab onto a thought, any thought, but it slipped away like a fish. Swimming in unanswered questions and untamed thoughts, Goblin felt as though she was about to drown.

Stelagnus, Orvi, Pranthium, Optrio, Relazier.

Goblin recognized how sharp and quick her breathing had become in her panic. She took a deep breath. Her cloudy and muddled line of questioning slowly dissipated. Another breath. The seemingly endless fog in her mind began clearing up, and her body slumped. She praised herself for her ability to regain a hold of her emotions. With no way of moving her limbs, head, or even her eyes, the control she had over her breathing reassured her.

Now in a more rational, calmer state of mind, she reconsidered her previous thoughts - if her captor would have wanted her dead, they would have surely killed her by now. And if there's nothing she can do to free herself of her restraints, she may as well get comfortable, and make peace with the moment. With each breath, the swarming sea of questions all began to float away, group by group, leaving a single doubt remaining: how she could so easily relax under these conditions. But with another deep breath, even that worry disappeared.

Her shoulders slumped further, and her heavy head drooped. But despite her eyelids sinking lower, bringing her closer to to the brink of dozing off, Goblin continued to stare on, floating peacefully in her mind, wonderfully free of thoughts, completely absent of worries. She felt a smile spread across her face, and her heart and spirits lifted. There was no reason to suffer. There was no reason to move. No reason to close her eyes or look away. The peace of mind was all she'd needed. She wondered why she'd ever want to plague her mind with unpleasant thoughts, or questions that'd weigh her down.

Avarno, Rotum, Oltrysia, Unsyncronum, Stelbitra, Erotasma.

With a sigh, Goblin recognized how tense her body had become, and her weary body tingled as any remaining tightness in her muscles melted away. Her arms, which had been resting against her thighs, began to tense and twitch. A familiar yearning beckoned her hands to massage and alleviate the warm, sensually aching spot tingling between her legs, as the other tingles throughout her body settled. But still stuck in place, her arms just helplessly shook and convulsed in place.

She drifted back to that blissful moment she often had before bed, when she'd idly stroke herself under the covers, without any strong sexual urges or desires. It was in this moment that she could simply let her unconscious desires take control of her hands, and bring her just the amount of pleasant stimulation to fall asleep. Despite her hands only resting inches away from satisfying herself, stuck in place, the memory played out in full, as her brain experienced pleasures that her body couldn't.

Goblin's eyes glazed over, and mouth lay slightly open. The increasingly vivid memories promised her wonderfully simulated sensations, calling for her to abandon all awareness of her surroundings. She recalled the moments she'd spend fully pleasuring herself, lying face down on her bed with one hand tooling and twirling around her wet pussy, and the other cupping and caressing her tits, squeezing and teasing herself in tandem.

Every loving stroke and prod at her private parts played out in her mind so vividly, she lost herself in the fantasy. She knew they weren't real. They couldn't be real. But her imagination promised her such a good time, she didn't want to stop pretending. A warm, pleasant aura radiated from within, and her sensitive parts tingled with each touch she imagined. For a moment, she briefly caught herself breathing loud and heavy, distracting her enough to notice her thighs had begun twitching and bouncing excitedly. But an unexpected wave of pleasure from her pussy caused her to gasp, and called her attention back to the erotic daydream.

As she inched closer to orgasm, her recollection began to waver, but the wonderful feelings remained. She struggled to hang on, and whimpered desperately for more. "Please", the word escaped from her lips between breaths.

From the dark corners of her mind (or possibly from her surroundings - it was difficult to tell), fuzzy depictions of wriggling lines gained definition and form, approaching closer to her. A warm tendril snaked its way down her backside, sliding sensually left and right as it descended. Another crawled up her right leg. Then two more around her neck and cheek, then a couple more here and there, until she quickly lost count. Before long, her whole body became awash in the smooth, crawling motions of dark tentacles sliding and caressing every inch of her skin. She cried out, and the convulsions spread to the rest of her body.

"Yes!" she shouted, to which the swarm rewarded her with a synchronized squeeze that sent waves of pleasure she couldn't just feel on her skin, but deep within. Pulse after pulse, she rode what she felt must have been a cycle of orgasms, but couldn't recognize without physical stimulation. Each peak transitioned seamlessly into the next.

Stanlos, Umbra, Blotredo, Mobius, Igniarum, Tranchior

Goblin wanted to be nowhere else but this very moment, and welcomed the fantastic psychic sensations to take her completely, make her their own. "I'm yours," she spoke with a renewed clarity. Every caress of her skin, each wonderful prodding of her erogenous zones, even her body-shaking orgasms became background noise to her regained focus on the entity before her. With all of her remaining physical strength, she fought for her weary eyes to stay open.

She sat breathing through her open mouth. Each breath eased her body further into relaxation, primed every muscle to act at a moment's notice. Each breath cleared her mind, preparing her to welcome any new thoughts or feelings that she could cling onto. And each reminder of her suggestible state of mind, her susceptible body, and the fantastic lingering sensations, all reinforced her trance, encouraged her to go deeper. And Goblin accepted the invitation in full, and embraced the call to let herself be hypnotized.

"I... will b-be good. I w-will obey." Despite her stammering, her emotionally flat words carried a calmness that reflected the character of someone completely unlike Goblin. "I will submit myself to you. I submit. I am yours, completely."

In an instant, silence surrounded her, halting the low hum in her ears that had grown so gradually, she couldn't detect it before. In fact, Goblin seemed numb to nearly every sensation.

Then, only a second later, she regained her senses.

She shook her head, and recollected herself. Gravity pressed her down onto a soft texture cradling her back. She felt the tightness of a cloth around her eyes whenever she tilted her head, and when she opened her eyes, she could make out a faint orange tint of candlelight passing through the white cloth. Muffled echoes of rowdy merriment reverberated through the surrounding walls, perhaps coming from downstairs, or several rooms away.

Goblin shifted, and immediately felt the resistance of a rope tied around her wrist, far and away from her head. She twitched her other limbs and felt the same forces restricting her, spreading her across the length of the bed. She could tell that several hours had passed since they rested in the forest, and it'd since become evening - perhaps it was the croaks of frogs and crickets outside, or the cool air passing over her bare chest.

Oh.

She realized she was completely stripped naked.

A condescending elf voice from the foot of the bed spoke to her, and she immediately yiped. "How would I possibly know what kind of assistant I'd be getting when I met you, naughty goblin girl?" Her body heated up, and she squirmed against the ropes. Her cheek pressed firmly against the sheet as she attempted to hide her smile. Without any outlet for her arousal, she hummed, groaned, and continued pulling against the ropes.

Cool, thin fingers traced their way up her inner calf. Goblin couldn't decide whether she wanted to relish the sensation of Drow's fingers caressing her toned legs, or beg him to stroke and finger her wet pussy. "Needy, greedy Goblin," Drow cooed, "Wanting so much, even from so little. Yet she's too prideful, too coy to admit what she wants." His hand reached her thigh, only inches away now. Goblin reflexively thrust her hips, tried shifting closer to him, tried looking down at how close he was. It pissed her off how right he was. She absolutely needed him.