The two adventurers look at each other. Their scent passively invading the other and keeping them rock hard at all times. Making any thought difficult as they just stare lustfully to their companion. Taking in every muscle, every hair... they're doomed if they stay like this. Brant clearing his throat and looking to the woods.
"We came from an abandoned village. Perhaps some villagers fled to here."
"Yeah, maybe. No point just standing around then. C'mon, need to go."
The half-orc rolls his shoulders and leads the way. The two looking through the woods for any sign of humanoid life. The dense trees and thick shrubbery making their journey not only difficult, but also uncomfortable. Having leaves rub against their tense and needy bodies causes their dicks to throb. Their pre staining the forest and producing more of that sweet scent they just want to give into. This is not helped by their inability to find anyone else in this forest. They see a few animals, but no footprints and no buildings. The woods beginning to darken as the sun sets and the moon rises. Both men fatigued, sweaty, and needy.
"Oi, Brant. Let's find a clearing and rest up. We go on any longer and it'll be bad. Can barely resist that smell your making."
Brant nods, seeing the half-orcs body glistening with sweat. Dripping down his brawny arms and feeding the plants of these woods. Stinking like a hard day of work, like a hard day of banditry. Made from several men working under the hot sun, pillaging the roads and returning to their king.
"BRANT!"
Brant is only a few inches away from Morgri. Having absentmindedly approached him, the two men making deep breaths and grunts just due to proximity of the other. Brants mind still in a haze, still picturing that perfect life of being a brigand.
"Bro, we should just become bandits. The king's so hot..."
Morgri's fist swiftly lands on Brant's chest. The human knocked back and wheezing as he impacts a tree.
"Can't... think like that! Get up, we need to rest."
Brant's head starts to clear. Ashamed of himself as he silently walks alongside Morgri. The two stopping when they find a grass clearing between the trees. Flatland where they both collapse on their back and look at the sky above. Too overwhelmed by what has happened to say any words or make any movements. Just closing their eyes, and drifting off to sleep...
Brant's dreams are clearer than they have ever been. Himself, Morgri, and Nirbolg. In their full bandit glory, naked and set up near the side of the road. Hiding behind a large rock as they wait for travellers. Hearing footsteps from down south and jumping from their hiding spot. Three human merchants, goods loaded on their backs as they immediately run from the brigands. Morgri and Nirbolg easily capturing their prey, and Brant doing just the same. Leaping at the merchant, arms wrapping around the traders, pulling him tightly against his own chest. The two hitting the ground, Brant resting on his back and keeping the trader still. Having his pecs act as a pillow for his new recruit, the captive's struggles dying out as he feels the raw muscle and might that the king provides to all of his brothers.
The grip loosens, Brant looking to the merchant with a dumb smile. The travellers head pressed between his pecs, rubbing against the thick hairs as his hands grab onto the bandit's arms. Brant flexing, muscles straining and showing their full form. The merchant moaning from just the sight, as his own arms start to balloon. Filled out with new power, building up to his chest which rebuilds itself. Firm, hard, rugged. Hairs sprouting out of his skin, the same dark brown that every brother has. Head remaining bald but chin covered in a chest length beard. Most of which braids itself to a single long strand that rests between his own rock like pecs.
The transforming man's nose is planted against Brant's treasure trail. Taking a deep sniff and following it down. Reaching his pubic bush where he takes in all it has to offer in one long sniff, before taking Brant's dick into his mouth. Taking in this bandit's pride, willingly pleasuring his brother. Tongue licking the head as the first spurts of pre are shot into his mouth.
Brant hears footsteps, seeing that Morgri is done with his own recruit and has now decided to have a bit more fun. Kneeling down above Brant, slowly bringing his green cock to the human's mouth. It's as thick as his fist, straining past Brant's lips, though bandits are well designed to pleasure their brothers. No discomfort felt as the entire pole pushes to his throat, his own nose resting against the man's bush of hairs. Smelling his family. The sweat, the pre, the might of the bandits...
Brant starts to wake. Dreams fading as he returns to reality, greeted by dark brown hairs and green skin. A salty taste in his mouth, a musky scent invading his nose. Mouth stretched as something rock hard fills him, throbbing every few moments as his tongue explores the hard meat. The man having his friends dick far down his throat, idly pleasuring his companion and drinking down whatever he can provide. A moment of clarity allowing Brant to look to his companion's face, seeing that Morgri is returning the favour. Tusks well positioned to hold his cock; eyes closed as the half-orc sucks on his friend's dick. Still asleep and in a lustful daze.
Brant mumbles, happy to finally become a bandit and invite Morgri to the same fate. All he needs is to drink Morgri's cum, and then flood the half-orc's mouth with his own seed. His resistance having all faded, as he dreams of the days to come. Of the two of them reuniting with their catfolk friend and bowing before their new king.