With his arms pinned against his sides, there's nothing much for Johan to do to keep himself out of the orc's stomach. He can't bring his weapon to bear on Drodjee, he can't even really get any leverage to kick, he's being held tightly enough (but not, he notes, as tightly as he might be) that wriggling around like a hooked fish would just tire him out faster, and talking doesn't seem particularly likely to help. Instead, relaxing a little to save energy, Johan leans forward and gives the hefty orc a quick kiss on the right side of her left breast, putting his face a bit of the way into her cleavage. It was warm, and her green skin was impressively soft and supple- it made for a very good pillow were he able to indulge in such things. As part of the kiss, his tongue brushed against bare, slightly sweaty skin, and Johan froze at the sudden jolt of flavor. Was- was that how orcs tasted?<br/><br/>Was that how<span style="font-style: italic">people</span>tasted?<br/><br/>Was that how<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">Johan</span></span>tasted?<br/><br/>Momentarily frozen by the foreign sensation, his own stomach grumbles at almost the exact same time as Drodjee's- with her in a commanding position and being larger, it was her stomach that was going to get its request answer. Looking up, Johan's eyes widened staring into the orcish maw as it opens. “But I've always thought black was more a better color on me, as fetching as green is-” he starts to say in one last instinctive attempt to divert her attention. It's not enough, as his face pushes forward into Drodjee's gullet. Feeling sharp-ish teeth poking into his neck, Johan freezes; puncture wounds at this point would just ruin his ability to focus on escape later. But that wasn't the only reason. The slimy, hot, slightly pebbled texture of a tongue covers his face and from the happy noise it becomes apparent that if Johan doesn't taste “like that”, he does have a taste worth enjoying. Still not moving, he lets the orc's throat claim him as teeth work their way down to his armor.<br/><br/>He halfheartedly wraps his legs around Drodjee's waist, whether to resist or keep himself stable wasn't for sure. That lets the orc worry less about her balance as her extended jaws clatter down his armored chest. Pulling his legs off of her without much effort, the orc's hand probes at his pants, and then plunges into them. With effort, he muffles the involuntary squeak, only to rapidly come fully erect under the combined stimulus of the throat rippling around his head pulling him down and the gentle massage on his most sensitive part. He still doesn't resist; why, when it would still just be tiring? He was a veteran enough to know that when you started in a bad situation, your best hope was to turn around and come back out and hope to be better positioned to avoid a repeat trip. When the orc's hand wraps around his rear and pushes, that's a much less compelling reason behind his compliance than simple pleasure.<br/><br/>As his head comes to rest against the orc's sphincter, Johan feels a loop of fabric on his pants get caught on one tusk. Boots are plucked away and discarded to be salvaged for a few silver once Drodjee's meal is more settled, and in the circumstances he can't argue- but with most of his body immersed in her heat, the air feels damnably cold on his bared feet. When the sphincter finally allows Johan in, the immediate wave of fiery thick air and sour scent send Johan into an instinctive trip down memory lane, one filled with pleasant memories as well as the fear of mortal battle; his pants tug free, stuck on her tooth, and for a few seconds his bare and erect member slides over her tongue and into the tight gullet. Sighing- under his breath- with pleasure, he wriggles around a little out of habit as more of his drool-slickened body slides wetly into Drodjee's stomach. Considering where he started, he's not surprised that the orc can stretch to accommodate his large, muscular frame- the bandit's obviously done this before with other marks, and left them as nothing more than a steaming pile in the forest and some of the padding he'd pressed his face against. When his feet splorch into the stomach, he quickly tunrs around in the cramped confines, moving to be head-up instead of head-down and submerged in acids. That that coated his entire body with the thick, hot slime faster than it otherwise would wasn't a real high-priority.<br/><br/>Quickly, Johan took stock. The buzzing euphoria of being swallowed was present, of course, but he could keep that in the back of his mind for now. It was less pleasure in being digested than a thrill-seeking giddiness at being<span style="font-style: italic">close to</span>death; the closer you came, the higher the thrill. Curled up in a hungry orcish belly was exceptionally close, and when combined with the heat and slime around him and his own private thoughts about what it would feel like to be on the other side, Johan's erection was hardly going away despite the danger. Still- there was businessto attend to.<br/><br/>Johan heard Drodjee start to talk to him, and he nodded. That was a good sign- you were in more danger with the ones that treated you as mere food from the get-go than ones that conceded you personhood by talking at all. “I'm afraid I can't let you do that, my dear,” he says quietly, pressing his face into one oozing wall to be sure that the orc- and<span style="font-style: italic">only</span>the orc could hear her food talking. “If you attack my friends, you'll find out you've swallowed a more potent enemy than you thought- and if the acids start to dig into my flesh, you'll find the same thing. I don't expect you to agree, but if you don't digest and withdraw from the fight, you don't have to have an unpleasant time. Sure, if my friends win, you'll be in trouble- but you'll be in far worse trouble if I'm not able to reassure them you're okay. And if your friends win, well, what does a minute's delay stacking me on your hips cost you?” It's a standard tactic- delay, delay, delay. Johan knew from experience that inside a stomach, you usually had on the order of 30 seconds of real, intense digestion before the combination of churning motion, bad air, and heat sapped any real energy to resist. Once that happened, you still lived, but as a helpless and steadily softening ball of meat, not a person. Anything that pushed that time horizon back was priceless, no matter how insincere it might be.<br/><br/>He moves only lightly yet, repositioning himself, sheathing his sword, and tenderly feeling around to find the wrinkled flesh of Drodjee's esophageal sphincter in the likely event she denied his bargain. There was also the animal pleasure of being tightly held in something wet and hot, feeling a stronger heartbeat ripple through his own body as his new home adjusted to his presence with the first faint gurgling of juices pooling under his bare rear, and if he was enjoying those sensations and even the abstract thought of melting away inside a beautiful woman at the same time he played for breathing room and prepared to fight back if unsuccessful, well, nobody could blame him, could he?<br/><br/>((Reaction post. XD I will save my action for the other PCs to catch up and it to be our next round... and, of course, if he gets a response~))