A refrshing drink, perhaps?

Susan stood slowly at the Forg-Lord's command, not wanting to give in, but seeing no other choice but to obey.

“Wh... What do you have?” There was still a strong distrust in her eyes, voice and spirit.

“I know that your ordeal has been tiring, golden haired toy, and this is a tincture of a plant only in my swamp that can help heal you, restore you.” Gorgmoth walked towards a table by the bed – from behind Susan could now clearly see his green cock swaying behind his loin cloth.

Susan was certainly thirsty – she couldn’t actually remember when she had last had something to drink.

“Water will do.”

“But water I will not offer.” Gorgmoth croaked. “This is so much better. If you don't trust me, watch, my ****.” Gorgmoth drank down a whole goblet of the potion, a cinnamon and ginger smell filled the air. It reminded Susan of the smell of eggnog. Of warm feelings, and hope.

She took an **** step towards him, and then another, arms out reached as he poured another goblet.

“Please... please...” Susan was now half way through the tent, and modesty unprotected entirely as her hands seemed to plead for the cup. Gorgmoth looked at her pale pink body, her fair golden hair on her head and on her loins, lust filling his eyes

“Now, halt ****. You need to address me properly first.” he held the goblet high above his head – far too high for Susan to reach.

“You must say 'please, my lord'”

Susan looked at him, looked at the goblet, and looked a rising cock starting to push aside a loin cloth clearly far too small for it in its full glory.

Her eyes started to go wide seeing the Fog-Lords pulsing, throbbing member.

“Yes... my lord” she said hesitantly...

She took another step, another two paces and she would be directly in front of the Frog-man. Or rather right in front of his erect organ.

“Please... my lord...” She said louder. There was something in her expression that looked fatigued, defeated. Gorgmoth smiled his wide toothy grin – he could perhaps very well swallow her whole if he ever so desired to.

“Excellent.” He looked triumphant, haughty and proud.

“Open your mouth, ****”.

Susan did as she was commanded, and the Frog-Lord slowly poured the drink into her mouth – careful that she take in every last drop.

Susan for her part drank it down gleefully- the potion tasting of warm spices was some how also fruity and refreshing at the same time, perhaps citrus-like even. As she drank it in so many of her former troubles began to be washed away. Or perhaps it was more like a wind, blowing all the dark clouds out of her head.