You Like Being a Dungeon Master

"Classical D&D is near and dear to my heart," you say after thinking for a moment, "so Dungeon Master it is, even though GM is a broader term. DM sounds more like the guy that sends players into an underground maze full of spike traps and snake pits."

Sandra's smile is made all the more radiant by her excitement. She chimes in, "it also sounds like someone that has a dungeon full of **** woman chained and naked." Her face immediately blanches with shock; she can't believe she blurted out something so blunt. The embarrassed librarian science major quickly looks around hoping no one else had heard her brazen statement.

Fortunately for the curvy conservative, the remainder of the adventurers are still arguing about the perfect halloween game. "Your both wrong," states Saul unequivocally. "October is about corn mazes just as much as headless zombies. The Chicken Coup RPG is the only choice."

"Well a good overlord needs some bait for the heros," you say to give Sandra an out, "but I try to make my dungeons equal opportunity." In spite of your statement and the promise of chivalry you made to Vivian, your mind flashes with a fantasy of ripping the clothing off of the shapely Sandra's body.

Graciously, you buxom friend grins at the joke. "I'm glad to be in the company of such a virtuous evil-doer," she quips just as your vehicle pulls up in front of your destination.

"Everybody out," orders Saul. "I'll join you guys once I find a parking spot." You quickly pile out with only a brief delay so Sandra can give your martyred driver change for the meter.

Outside of the store you see the first obstacle blocking your passage to the low priced treasure. Basement dwellers of questionable cleanliness have formed a small hoard around a Vampirella display at the entrance. Not wanting to waste any more time you quickly devise a strategy. "We form a wedge, Brian at the head and Sandra in the middle." Without much difficulty, your party of four is able to **** it's way into the mass. Though you do stumble a bit when the smell of stale cheetos and taint sweat hits you like a brick wall, the promise of discounts gives you the strength to push on, and you manage to make your way through the vestibule.

Once inside you are faced with another problem: nearly half the eyes in the store turn towards you, or more specifically the busty bombshell beside you. Some are subtle, pretending to read comic books while they ogle your friend, but most stare openly, a few look like they're seconds away from drooling. The sudden onslaught of attention makes Sandra sink behind you.

"You okay?" you ask. "Do you want to leave?"

"No," she whispers back, "It's just a little startling." Her tone is determined, but her gentle hand nervously grabs your arm.

The middle of the store has an island half full of an illustrated book titled "68 Uses For A Naughty Succubus: with Pictures and Limericks." The cover shows a cartoonishly proportioned succubus quite similar to the store's old logo. The overly voluptuous icon bends at the waist to lick a curved door handle while petting it. The suggestive picture is accompanied by a limerick:

If you have a naughty succubus

That is causing quite a ruckus

Give her knobs to clean

Its not all that mean

Gagging her will stifle any fuss

The haphazard display seems to be the most organized shelf in the store, and it is still dotted with an array of figurines in battered packaging. The surrounding shelves are far more dishevelled, indicative of a long day full of customers picking up and putting down merchandise. While the section of the wall labeled maps doesn't seem to have a single one, it does have an impressive stack of rulebooks and other inventory from all four corners of the store. Moreover, as Dave wisely warned you, a scattering of d4s down one aisle will require that area to be treated as difficult terrain to avoid the risk of piercing damage. It would appear this treasure hunt still has some obstacles.

Not least of these hazards are the eyes. Most of the chauvinistic shop's patrons have returned to their browsing, but plenty still let their searing gaze openly crawl over the beautiful woman beside you. One decrepit looking weasel saunters up and loudly states, "I think your one of those fake nerdy girls that just want attention. You probably can't even explain the difference between a missile and an artillery attack." Behind the strands of greasy hair, he has a scowl that says he'd like nothing more than to see her "banished to the black hole."

Sandra smiles back politely. "Oh don't mind me," she replies, "I'm just here picking up something for my boyfriend." The beautiful woman surprises you by grabbing your hand and interlacing her fingers.

The unwashed buffoon looks at you and scoffs, "he's going to see what you buying, dumb bitch."

You feel Sandra's hand flinch when the jerk swears, but she keeps smiling like a cashier telling a customer their coupon has expired, and he eventually slithers off.

"Sorry for lying," your caring crush mumbles while staring at her shoes, but she doesn't let go of your hand.

"I'd be lucky to have a girlfriend half as charming as you," you counter.

She accepts your compliment with a contented sigh and pulls her body closer to you. Hand in hand, the two of you begin perusing the store silently. Only a few minutes later, as you pick out a bag of glow in the dark dice. Sandra mumbles to you "I, uh, am going to get you a gift though, so don't look at what I'm buying, please."

You nod. She grabbed a book of dungeon maps and is holding it tightly in front of her chest. You originally thought it was to shield her heavenly bust from the lustful eyes around her, but she could be hiding a trinket or magazine behind the book as well.

The unwashed customers refuse to let Sandra forget she's a piece of eye candy for them. As the two of you glance over some box sets along the back wall, you hear two nerds snickering nearby. Amongst his friends, one waves a small package containing a cheap dryad costume that is barely more than a leaf-pattern bikini. "The bra has no support so we'd get to see the full range of her jiggle physics," he says.

"Ha, ha, yeah," laughs another, somehow sounding even more nasally, "you should buy it for her and tell her to put it on."

"I know right? That'd be so wild. I'd be all 'put this on now, slut'" the first agrees, with all the bravado of someone that will never fallow through.

You feel pillow breasts press into you as Sandra wraps herself tight around your arm before murmuring in your ear, "I feel like a priestess surrounded by troglodytes."

"If you're uncomfortable, we should leave," you say trying to be supportive.

"No, not really, it feels almost like I'm going on an adventure." The buxom co-ed keeps her grip on your arm, but you can see an odd twinkle of excitement in her eye. Sandra seems almost eager for the next challenge.