Calin is a big city--big and far from the town that Kret got the tip from. If she was to catch up with the bard who had wronged her, she would need transportation, and quick. Luckily for the kobold, the bouncer at the Muddy Mistress appreciated the time off that the kobold gave him by dunking his boss in the arcane slime that is the brothel's namesake, so he provided her with a small bag of cash and a trip on the back of a covered trader's wagon. Kret thanked him and went on her merry way. He really appreciated how he would enjoy being unemployed. Certainly, she wouldn't like being put in the same situation. Different strokes for different folks, she figured.
It had been a few days on the road, and Kret lays in the little corner that the cart driver had arranged for her. She has a few pillows and a blanket to work with for the cold nights, and he appreciates having the help in case of bandit attacks. That's always a threat when traveling along the road, and Kret had her fair share of random encounters during her time as an adventurer with her former party. As the cart rocks and bounces along on the road, she lays back, staring up at the tented roof of the wagon. Her mind wanders back to that dungeon she and her former companions had gone through. It was an ancient ruin, and they said that it was haunted by the spirit of a dead adventurer. Kret was thinking about that ghost story when her eyes caught the shimmering figure gliding down the hall. Her party knew of her magical talents, of course, and her companion threw her into combat. Little did they know the ghost's true form.
  Kret shudders as she remembers the feeling, but then she pauses. She rolls over onto her belly and looks through her traveler's bag, producing the small, egg-shaped object. Kret prays that she won't need to stop the cart in order to drop off one of her unfertilized eggs. It's a quirk of kobold anatomy that humans never did seem to get used to, and neither did she, really. She rolls her fingers over the egg device, wiping off some of the residual juices from it. She thought it would be clean by now, but the force of the orgasm it caused the woman she saw using it made sense. There was a lot of mess in that room. So, with a shrug, she rolls back onto her back and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. She wasn't too fond of the slime of the Muddy Mistress, mostly because of her previous encounter, but was it so bad?
Her fingers tug at the bottom of her shirt and she places the tip of her egg at her underbelly. Focusing on her arcane talents, she seeks the proper magical trigger to make it work, and, as in a flash, the trigger appears before her and she activates the object. The egg buzzes, sending a delightful sensation tingling down her scales. She breathes deeply, brushing it along her body, down between her legs.
  That ghost she faced in the past. It wasn't a ghost at all, really. No, when she was hurled by her partner towards it, she felt her body hit something thick and gooey, as if she was in some kind of swampy water. As her body passed through, the tingling feeling passed all over her, a little bit like how the egg tingles over her body now. Maybe Panas,the unfortunate elven owner of the Muddy Mistress, designed this device to simulate such things. And the woman who used it, she was brought to the most powerful orgasms that she had ever had. They were unwelcome in her case, but with Kret, that's a different story. She brings her hand, and the device, down between her legs and hums as she runs the egg along her slit. A growl escapes her throat as she melts back into that time in the dungeon.
As the transparent slime coated her body, she realized, to her horror, that she had come face-to-face with a terrible oozy cube. She could only watch as her clothing disintegrated before her, but it was the feeling on her scales that was the most peculiar. While she expected pain as her flesh ripped away from her bones, what she got was different than that. The burning she had imagined came over her more like a rough brushing along her scales. She had taken a bath once, when the head "seamstress" wanted to impress a high-paying client. They dumped her in a tub of hot water and rubbed abrasive soap over her scales. This feeling is not too different. All over her body, she felt the tingling of the liquid mixed with the scraping of her dead scales. While she expected excruciating pain, what she got was not at all unpleasant! Its when she remembers how it felt, entering inside her, cleaning her from within, removing all of her impurities, that she places the egg deep inside of herself. The buzzing of the device, and the spasming of her body meld together as she cries out, letting all hear her shouts of release right there inside the warm embrace of the cube, of the Mistress, of the machine!
  "Hey, quiet back there!" The driver snaps. "Don't you dare get my supplies all messed up, 'cause you can't keep yer legs closed for a couple-a days!"
Kret's eyes open and she sits up, letting out a satisfied sigh. She pulls the egg out and examines it. It is quite coated... but so are her pants. She sighs and tugs them off, pulling her legs in close. Well, at least she doesn't have to wear them for the rest of the trip. Thinking of that, she wonders just how long the trip actually is. As she opens her mouth to ask, a few arrows whiz by, one barely missing her, and the other piercing the driver's throat!
The horses rear back, frantically kicking before two unknown hooded figures run up to them, quickly pulling on the harnesses. Shouts fill the air and a blade pierces through the canvas in front of Kret, sending blinding light through. A green, tusked face pokes through, and the orc that owns it smiles, reaching in and grabbing Kret by the ankle, pulling her with prodigious strength up and out of the wagon. "Lookie what I got 'ere, boys!" The orc shouts, tossing the kobold to the ground. "Looks like there's more'n one kind'er booty on this wagon!"
  The pillagers surrounding Kret are a motley bunch--men of alls hapes and sizes wearing armor and clothing old and new, fancy and simple, but each of them stare down at Kret with an all-too-familiar hunger in their eyes.
The Kobold scrambles to stand up, but as she pushes herself, a stocky dwarf places his large hand on her head and shoves her face down in the dirt. "Now, now, where ya goin,' lass? This be no time tae stand an' fight. It's time to take what ye owe us!"
Kret speaks from the side of her mouth, snarling. "I owe you nothing. Let me go!"
More laughter rises up from the ranks of the bandits.
"Ain't no way we's lettin' a piece a' ass like yerself free. That is, likely, if ya don't have other holes ta share!"
"Oh, she's got them... a voice hisses. "Though, I wouldn't expect mammals like yourself to notice."
Kret cannot see the speaker of the voice, as she is preoccupied with clawing at the thick glove that pushes her down, yet she is unable to do anything about it.
"Well, you know the rules," the orc says, grabbing Kret by the tail and yanking her away from the dwarf. He tosses her upwards with his strength and when she falls back to him, he wraps his arms around her, holding her against his chest. "We get all the other ones, but the boss keeps 'er ass.
  Kret whimpers at that, but can't go any further when he drops his drawers, revealing his large and veiny orcish cock. Its larger than most men she had ever seen. Before she can protest, the orc drops her right into it and she grits her teeth as her slit forces open and the cock stretches the sex inside. She kicks around, trying to break free, but he falls back on the ground, letting her sit erect over his cock. The orc holds her hips and bounces the kobold upon his pole like a toy. 
She sits upon his shaft, her mouth agape as his cock pretty much bulges her stomach from the force and size. But that's not all she has to endure. More men approach from around her, the dwarf and a human. Each of them have lowered their pants and jerk off while a half-elf stands over the orc and in front of her face. "Better get to pleasin' us, lass, or we'll get really rough!" The Dwarf warns.
Whimpering, Kret lifts her hands, wrapping fingers around the human and dwarven shafts and pumps them vigorously. When the half-elf approaches her, she rolls her tongue out, licking the tip and then guiding it along into her maw. She closes her eyes, feeling the burning sensation in her cheeks, though it is soon overpowered by the piercing jolts shooting up from her body. Nevertheless, she bounces on the orc and works the other three men, each of them either chuckling or grunting in approval.
  "Gods damn, this little'un's quite the whore!" The human exclaims.
"Uhh, I never found a gal as talented as her that didn't tak ecoin for 'er service!"
"Haha, free whoring. Amazing!" The half-elf says.
"Quit yer gobbin'!" The orc shouts. "I'm tryin' ta shoot me load inside 'er, and I can't do it if I have ta' listen a ya three runnin' yer traps!"
The men shake their heads and hover around her renewed fervor, the two on her sides pushing her head forward, taking the long elven pole down deep through her throat. Her eyes water, but she doesn't gag in the midst of all this assault. But, oh, did they not know who they were messing with. The whole time her fingers brush up and down the cocks of the dwarf and the man, she draws patterns into their flesh, invisible, save for those with the arcane eye. Once completed, the spell will strike them all down with violent lightning. Already, the ozone in the air increases, and their climaxes will be the most explosive that they've ever had in their lives. Just thinking about it makes her go faster, with more vigor, hoping to give them exactly what they came for, and more!
  That's when the collar locks around her throat. Suddenly, as if someone snuffed out a candle, she feels all of her magical power disappearing. Her eyes widen and she seeks to find who could have placed the collar on her, who could have crippled her so, but at that moment, all three men reach their peak. While she deals with being bloated with the orc, trying to adjust herself so she doesn't pop, she chokes on semen spewing down her throat and she is blinded when the others shoot on her. Almost as quickly as they began, the three men pull away from her and the orc lifts her up with a sickening squelching sound before tossing her off to the side.
That's when that voice that identified her spoke up. She opens her eyes, looking through blurry, jizz-stained eyes at the figure standing before her. "You fools nearly got yourselves killed. I told you... collar first, then fucking.”
Kret scoops the globs from her face, blinking a few times to let her tears flush her eyes and give her a view of the bandits' supposed leader. Standing before her is a tall, vibrantly-scaled figure, with an impressive set of frills on top of her head. Her scales leathery in a way, rough in the fashion that suggests a tough life on the road. Her eyes, though slitted, show a tiredness underneath of them. Despite her slim build, she carries with her the impressive stance of a leader and tested warrior. Her top is unclad, and various scars mar her body, from rough battles. Underneath, she wears a armored skirt and boots and her clawed hand rests upon the shaft of an axe.
Noticing that Kret sees her as she truly is for the first time,the lizardwoman smiles a sharp-toothed grin down at her. "It isn't very often we find kobolds walking around here. You'll be quite the present up in Calin."
Kret can't help but let a nervous smile crease her mouth."That's fortunate. I was heading that way, anyway!"
"Oh, what a lovely surprise," The lizard woman says, squatting down to be eye level with the kobold. Her tired eyes glimmer with some mischief. "Then, allow my band to escort you along the way. You must be exhausted after all the exercise.
  The bandits around her chuckle and whistle, though each of them look hungrily to their leader. She reaches a hand out and brushes it around Kret's frills. The kobold stands still, closing her eyes as she's being touched so gently. "Now, then," the leader growls. "I'm sure you know you haven't finished paying the traveler's tax for us yet, and a friend of ours back down the road let us know that a sexy little thing was coming this way with a sack of gold and a body to die for. So, let's see the rest of that body."
Kret draws in a sharp breath and moves her hands down to her stained shirt and pulls it off. There's nothing else she can do right now, but comply. She tosses the cum and beer-soaked top aside, letting it get dirty on the dusty road.
The leader stands up, undoing her battle skirt, letting it fall down onto the ground. She then holds a hand out. "Talgrin... my manhood."
"Yes, sir!" The dwarf salutes and runs off, and Kret blinks with a frown, wondering what she meant. Surely, the humanoids of the group would have a hard time telling their leader is a female. Did they not know...?
  The dwarf returns with a leather strap, and, attached to it, something made of bone, thick, long, and--
Kret gasps as the lizard attaches it at her waist, giving her a large and erect member. Even without her magic, Kret realizes that the device must have properties, as it glistens with fluid and hums with energy as it attaches to her. The lizard gasps, tilting her head back and then rolling her shoulders. She looks down to Kret, grabs her by the shoulder,and spins her around!
Kret is simply overpowered. There's no way the tiny kobold without her skills can stop this lizard, and so, she resigns herself, reaching around and spreading her cum-soaked slit to get it over with.
But the lizard lifts her tail, and she doesn't press against the kobold's slit. Instead, Kret grunts as her tail hole is penetrated by the lubricated magical member. She grits her teeth, grinding them tightly asher body spreads for this lizard.
"This world," the lizard grunts, wrapping her arms around Kret's stomach. She slams into her, hips touching hips, thick pole filling deep and burning as it stretches her. "Has two kinds of people." She speaks now into Kret's ear as her hips continue to slap against her, threatening to bruise the kobold with the continuous pounding. "Those who fuck, and those who are fucked!"
  Kret cries as her arms give out, her legs wobbling uncertainly. Loud slaps fill her ears as her body starts to numb from the sensation. Its bigger, more powerful than anything she had inserted into her before.
"I chose to fuck!" The lizard growls, her tongue flicking out onto the kobold's cheek. "And people follow me. No more will I be fucked! If you can't fuck, you will be fucked. Understand!?"
"F... Fuck you...!" Kret groans, her cheek pressed against the ground.
"That's the spirit," the lizard says, and she closes her eyes, slamming her rod deep into Kret once more, clawed fingers scratching at Kret's scales, gently cutting into soft flesh below in some places.
Kret hisses, but she cannot do anything else. Her eyes stare hate up at the woman and she speaks once again. "I'll... I'll find you. I'll kill you..."
The lizard pulls out from Kret, her rod oozing with fluids of various kinds, some clear, others crimson. "That's the spirit," she says. "There's no greater thrill in life than crawling from the bottom to be on the top. If you survive your little journey, you can find me and do whatever you want to me. I'll look forward to your attempt." She shudders at the thought and unhooks the strap-on, handing it back to the dwarf. Without looking at Kret or anyone else, she gives her next orders. "Load her back on the cart. We need to get back to Vijaya's place by the end of the night. Vince, Nico. You two ride ahead and find a holy man. She'll need some healing before she's presented at the manor."
  "Anything else, boss?" One of the bandits ask.
The lizard's mouth curls in a little smile. "Yes. Get the girl something nice to eat and drink. I'm sure she'll appreciate it after we trade her off. It's the least we can do..."
With that, the weakened and abused Kret is lifted up under her arms by burly men and dragged back to the cart. She may be sore all over. She may have suffered the greatest of indignities, her abusers may have made it a game, but she is at least going in the right direction, and she knows this lizard's face. She takes solace in that...
-- 
The journey off of the road and into the bandit's encampment went on for so long, it might has well have been months, but Kret lay in the cart, used and abused, dusty and oozing with seed pumped into her from the rough ride she had only a few hours before. The Kobold, now shackled with a collar, feels a sort of instinct churn up within her. It's like some primal urge within her whispers into her very soul, telling her to go along with her captors--to listen to what they say, to do everything they asked of her--until the time is right to strike.
  Once the cart stops, rough hands grab her shoulders and hoist her out. "Out ya go, ya little lizard!" A rough orcish voice says, before tossing her out of the cart and into a muddy puddle.
"Damn yer clumsiness, Korash!" The dwarf, Talgrin, pipes up. "Don't go mishandling the goods, or the chief will be none to happy. He wants to see her now that we've made it to the camp."
"Where is he?" The orc says, with a snort.
"Down by the river. You know how he is after a conquest."
The orc rolls his eyes and hoists Kret up. "Move along, slave. We ain't got all day!"
Keeping her head low, Kret steps lightly through the base, her nose close to the ground, but her eyes checking on the situation. Probably a dozen or so bandits here, each of them cataloging booty, sharpening weapons, or doing some other maintenance task. Her eye catches the blacksmith, who is working on more collars. If she were to find a key for this, that might be the place to look.
Soon enough, though, the sound of flowing water catches her attention, and Korash pushes her towards to cover of some bushes. "Chief should be over there. You'd best not keep him waiting."
  She takes a deep breath and marches forward, making her way behind the bushes and to the river on the other side. She notices some rocks that make a natural bridge just a few meters down and turns toward them, only to hear another voice call out to her. "You're not going to get far without your magic, you know."
The voice makes her freeze. Kret builds the courage to turn to look at the owner, only to discover the scarred form of the lizard woman from earlier. "You're... the chief?" She asks.
Can't expect a high-paying job to go without a hitch, can I?" she, or was it he, says.
Kret, falling into her natural obedience, shakes her head.
"And you're a crafty one. All of your kind are. But then again, I'm not one to judge by appearances. Now, though, I feel it's right to judge one thing. You're dirty. Clean yourself."
Kret hisses, wrapping her arms around her mud and jizz-stained body.
"You're being rather childish," the bandit leader says. As the lizardfolk speaks, it drops its skirt, standing there with its leathery, scarred, and clearly feminine body. "There's no way Vijaya will have anything to do with you if you aren't presentable." With that, the leader steps into the river, sighing as its form dips into the water. "I have no ill will towards you. All that was earlier was asserting my dominance over you."
  Kret's snout wrinkles, but it is true that the bandits haven't been rough since she got here. She looks to her dirt-caked hand and grumbles, dipping a toe into the cool water. She shudders, but takes the plunge, disappearing under the water and kicking off downstream. Her freedom coming soon, she swims great strokes down the river in hopes of escape, yet a dark mass looms over her, and scaly hands wraparound her body. Kret thrashes as the two emerge, the lizardfolk holding onto her tightly as they slosh over to the shore. "And here I thought you were clever," the bandit chief says, voice low more in disappointment than in anger.
"Let me go," Kret hisses.
"There's your rebellious spark," the lizardfolk says. "You look like a kobold, but your heart is something else entirely, isn't it?"
Kret grits her teeth, but doesn't fight back. She's much too small, and there's nothing her tiny body can do. In a nude wrestling match,the chieftain has the advantage. "Why do you care?" she asks, her body falling limp in the bandit's grasp.
  As the bandit speaks, the lizard's hands run over her form, slopping off dirt and mud, letting it wash away in the river. "I am of two selves, too. Weak body, made for being bred, yet I have a strong soul, made to conquer and to breed." The fingers slide down under the water, between Kret's legs. "You felt that firsthand. My manhood may be fake, but my man's soul is not. Through my actions, I've impregnated you with a new purpose."
Kret's will explodes, and she kicks against the lizard's stomach, scratching at her flesh. Though blood mixes with the mud in the river, the bandit chief does not lose grip of Kret. Yet, neither do the scaled fingers penetrate her further, instead, they spread her lips, helping to let the male remnants flow out of her.
"What is your soul little one? Are you subservient? Are you a weak creature? Or are you of a strong mind? Your blood speaks of magic. If you prove yourself useful to Vijaya, you may yet survive the tortures and be seen as an asset--a strong spell caster is a powerful ally. If you serve with no regard to yourself, you will be just another breeder, useful only for the weak body you've been given."
  Kret stops again, her heart beating quickly. Even now, the lizard lets go of her, letting her bob in the water a moment before catching herself.
"My name," she speaks up to the chieftain, "Is Kret. And though I hate you for what you did, I still respect you"