The clicking sound finally came to a halt and there at the door was a hunched figure. It was still somewhat concealed in shadow, but Aaralon could definitely tell it was a goblin.
It started to walk into the chamber. It's movements were slow and deliberate, yet seemed weak in a way. This was only enhanced by the walking stick that it carried with it, hitting the ground and causing the clicking sound he heard before. It wore a very ragged shawl which swung back and forth with it's movements.
Aaralon watched it as it made it's way over to the mat with the bowl he noticed before. He kept a steady gaze on it almost studying it wondering what it was doing. As it finally made it to the mat it slowly sat down on the mat and picked up the bowl. It swirled the contents of the bowl around and examined it, looking as though it was trying to figure something out. It kept this up for a while until it finally stopped and let out an audible grunt as it willed it's old and strained muscles to make him stand. With bowl in hand it started to make it's way over to Aaralon.
Aaralon was somewhat startled as the goblin approached him, and eyed him more than ever now. He tried to mumble something under his breath. A spell which would have repelled the goblin and possibly then he could enchant the shackles which kept him on the table.
The goblin then almost seemed to laugh. It sounded like more of a screech than a laugh but that was the only thing Aaralon could pin it as. It spoke, with a very raspy and gargled voice which sounded like his professor back at the college; Professor Ritchkin who after centuries of smoking had a voice which made nails on a chalkboard sound pleasant. In a voice almost as bad it said, "Don't eeeeven tryyy... Your magicsss do not work heeeere." The last word sounding more like a wheeze than anything else.
Aaralon's mind raced thinking of a way to escape but thought about the current situation he was in. He was shackled down to a stone slate in what must be a goblin settlement in the caves he was still lost in and had no idea of how to get out and no way of using his magic. Yup... things were looking up.
He looked back at the goblin and asked the questions that had been burning in his mind for a while now, "Why am I here? What's in that bowl? What do you plan to do With me!?"
The goblin stopped once it was about a foot or so away from the stone tablet. It was so close Aaralon could feel it's hot pungent breath on his face and the stench waft into his nostrils. It took almost all of his willpower to keep from vomiting. He could also now see it's horrid features. The bulbous nose, the spindly hands, it's twitching eyes which always seemed to look in one direction but never quite stay still either.
It began saying "Yoooou boy, are a very rare one. Grot, Sitch, and Sssssscag were veeery lucky when they fooound yooou."
He started to look over Aaralon and his naked body making Aaralon feel vulnerable and ashamed. He had almost gotten used to walking around naked in the caves but goblins weren't exactly something he would want to be around unless he had 4 layers of clothing... and plate mail... enchanted plate mail at that.
It kept looking over him and finally laid it's wrinkled and almost decayed looking hand on Aaralon's dick. Aaralon immediately tensed as this... creature, this thing touched him as he was. However, memories came flooding back of not to long ago. Of how he was raped by the goblins... and almost enjoyed it.
His dick hardened and almost immediately the goblin started to laugh again, this time almost as if he had achieved something by making Aaralon hard. Aaralon's mind buzzed wondering what's going on!
The goblin then let go of Aaralon's dick and let it flop over on it's side. It looked back at Aaralon again and said, "It'ssss so hard to ssssatisfy ourssselves lately. Our femalessss have almossst all died out. We neeeed ssssomething... ssssomeone."
It kept eyeing Aaralon almost as if he was the key to this problem. Aaralon, though, kept getting the sinking feeling that he was. "We sssso veeeery much neeeed ssssomeone like you, sssomeone with sssuch an affinity to magic... aaaaaand..."the word sounding like it could hold on to it forever, "sssomeone who'sss ssso veeeeery sssussceptible to magical herbs."
And with that it grabbed Aaralon's cheeks and squeezed spreading his mouth open. It's strength for such a spindly and old looking creature was amazing. He tried to close his mouth solely in response to what happened but then realized he needed to close his mouth.
The goblin shaman took the bowl from earlier and with Aaralon's mouth open attempted to pour the contents of it down his throat. Aaralon struggled in protest but the goblin kept him amazingly still. The pungent liquid hit his tongue and then an almost pleasant feeling started to flow over him. He relaxed and let the goblin simply let him drink the contents of the bowl. The green liquid went down his throat smoothly, somewhat reminding him of the load of goblin cum he took just before he was knocked unconscious.
Aaralon having drank the entire bowl then started to look at the ceiling, the green crystal that hung from the ceiling and bathed the room in an eerie glow. He felt very weird, yet strangely calm for what he had just been through. He thought of Master Memp... the dwarf... even the goblins; all the memories coming back to him in flashes and making him feel extremely horny. His hardon became even harder and he started to twist and turn pulling against the shackles that bound him.
The goblin then waved a hand over one shackle and each magically seemed to unlatch. At the same time though, three goblins entered the room all with massive hardons themselves looking as if they hadn't mated in months.
Aaralon sat up and stared almost entranced by the three pieces of meat in front of him.
The goblin shaman observed Aaralon and chuckled to itself in its own little raspy voice... "Yeessss, perfect. Yooou, are a very rare one indeed. |