Grove, Taciturn Mercenary

Chill night air blew gently up and over the cliffside, tinged with brine from the seawater below. It was a quiet night, the sounds of insects and nocturnal critters distant and subdued for they instinctually knew to avoid the Northern lands just beyond the precipice. A lone figure stood by the edge of the cliff, arms crossed, watching the last vestiges of the sun sink below the horizon.

Grove's eyes scanned across the distant lands visible from the natural vantage point. He sighed and turned around, walking back to the smoldering firepit. With a sidelong glance, he peered down the path that he had taken to get here—the path back to the capital—he hesitated. It was not too late to go back... to civilization. To bureaucracy, systemic injustices... to a place where he was a mere pawn for powerful malefactors.

No... I can't go back. he thought, shaking off his stupor and turning to face the path forward. There is nothing left for me there. Out here... maybe I can make a difference.

After gathering his things, Grove kicked sand over the fading flame in the campsite's firepit and proceeded Eastward... quietly marching into the Frontier under the cover of night.

After about half an hour of quiet walking through the woodlands, Grove perked up—there was something just ahead. He silently dashed over to a nearby tree and hid behind it, peering around its trunk to get a good look at what stood before him, bathed in the faint light of bioluminescent vines that hung from the trees.

What's this...?

Grove: In a woodland clearing lit by the bioluminescent glow of the bulbous vines that hang from its trees, two figures are at a standoff. Kneeling on the ground was Grove, stripped to his underwear and covered in small cuts that ooze a magenta liquid. His armor has been ripped off of him, scattered around the clearing. He's grown flushed, panting heavily... his erection straining against the soft leather of his precum-soaked thong.

Bandit Scout: Standing above Grove was some sort of lizardfolk bandit, clad in latex and wielding a nasty dagger coated in the same magenta fluid that is soaking into Grove's wounds. Grinning lasciviously, the bandit brought his dagger to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste the mixture of drake blood and magenta toxin. Just as quickly, the bandit's own bulge throbs as the aphrodisiac took effect upon him, too.

"Well, well, well... and here I thought I was in trouble!" The bandit scout cackled, sharp fangs glittering in the low light. He sauntered over to Grove, placing his foot against the struggling drake's chest and pushing him onto his back. The lizard bandit then knelt down and reached between Grove's legs to fondle his clenching balls. "The way you faltered and let your guard down... almost feels like you wanted this."

Grove: Grove said nothing, glaring daggers at the bandit and stifling moans as he got molested. With a trembling arm, he reached up in a feeble attempt to resist, but the toxin pulsing through his veins stole away his strength—it was all being funneled to on his cock and balls.

H-How... could I... he could not finish the thought, mind fogging up with lust and shame.

Bandit Scout: "Aww, no scathing retort for me, stud? Not gonna punch me in the face?" The bandit scout feigned a pout, then sheathed his dagger and moved to peel away Grove's underwear, letting the stuff draconic member spring free. He licks his lips. "Respectable size! Maybe I'll sample some of you for myself before I take you back to base and we hook you up to the milking machine."

The bandit shuffled forward and straddled Grove's abdomen, rubbing his ass against Grove's aching member, preparing to take the drake's length.

Deep within the woods, hidden between some mesas lies a wide cavern, dark and foreboding. The interior is flooded with cool, tingling blue slime that is a foot or two deep. Strands of the gelatinous goo stretch from floor to ceiling and gobs of it hang from or glom onto every surface. It is filled with the faint sound of roiling, thick liquid and the muffled moans of those engulfed in it.

This cavern is the lair of the region's numerous blue slimes, simple creatures that ooze around and ambush witless wanderers with the intent of engulfing them whole and milking their bodily fluids. Those subdued by blue slimes are dragged into lairs like these to be subsumed into gelatinous prisons, their semen and other fluids endlessly wrung from bodies pumped full of aphrodisiac.

"Mnn... nghh..." Grove moaned into the tendril stuffed into his mouth as the blue slime engulfing his member sucked hard, drawing out another load of drake cum into its repository. A tentacle slid free of his gaping asshole, its tip an exact copy of the drake's own cock. With barely even a minute to rest, the translucent tendril bulged with magenta liquid, which flowed into Grove's maw. It was thick as honey and cloyingly sweet. He swallowed it down greedily, eyes rolling back in his head as his cock throbbed with renewed vigor. "Mmm... mmm..."

The slimy appendage sheathing his member began to undulate and squeeze, eager to wring more cum from its captive. The tentacle that was in his ass a moment ago rose up and shoved itself deep into his bowels, pumping him in time with the slime stroking his cock. The cycle had begun anew. He didn't know how many times this slime had made him cum... he lost count a long while ago.

The morning sun that shone through the cavern's entrance and painted Grove with golden light was suddenly blotted out as a figure crested the corner. His glazed-over eyes struggled to focus on the silhouette at the cave mouth. He wanted to yell, to urge them to flee, whoever they were... but all he could manage was a gurgling groan around the tendril pumping sweet, sweet aphrodisiac down his throat.