The moans of pleasure were just a little louder than the whimpers of pain, and that’s how Dvini liked it. He stalked down the hallway, putting the sounds of debauchery behind him. A pair of squat, square-faced Dwarf guards nodded at him as he passed. They spun their cudgels which they kept just in case a slave broke loose. It didn’t happen often, but it was better to be safe.
Dvini hated losing a profit.
The cool air of the slave dungeons gave way to the muggy heat of the southern jungle as Dvini stepped outside. Short, shabby wooden buildings rose around him in lopsided tiers. The sounds of commerce and coin pricked his ears. Seagulls cawed overhead. Somewhere, far off, he heard the bell ringing, declaring that a large ship was entering port.
He had a meeting and shouldered his way into the crowd. Being a Licani, he stood out because of his extreme height. People craned their necks to look at him. The Dwarves and half-breeds didn’t even bother.
It was also uncommon for any Licani to be this far south on part of their fur. Having a thick coat and being in the humid heat wasn’t a good mix. Dvini panted as he walked. Truthfully, he hated the weather, and found most of the locals to be insufferable drunks. The things you do for money.
Dvini ducked into a back alley. The winding, labyrinthine alleys of Bayreach were near impossible to navigate without a map or a guide. Plenty of drunks had stumbled into one, only to be ganged up on and stripped down by the port cities many, many beggars. They looked at Dvini with watery eyes, shying away from the towering Licani.
It was a little cooler in the alleys since the rooftops crisscrossed over them, but you couldn’t get away from the humidity. That was impossible. Nothing made the air any dryer down here. Bayreach was an important port and neutral city in the south, but Dvini still didn’t understand how someone saw this shitty slice of jungle and thought of turning it into a city.
He made his way up some stairs, taking them two at a time because of his longer strides. Stairs turned into rope bridges, which turned into more stairs. The higher he went, the cleaner the beggars looked. Most cities had their lower levels full of poor and their upper levels full of the rich. Bayreach was progressive in that there were plenty of poor people even at the very top.
Dvini finally made it to his office. The “building” looked like a wooden box with a flat roof perched precariously on an edge. He stepped inside. On the first floor was a small bar to entertain guest. The second floor was for business, and the third were his personal chambers. He trudged up the stairs.
“All hail, Lord of Chains, Almighty Dvini!” A female voice cried out. Sitting in one of the chairs was a woman with golden hair, dressed in expensive robes. Two tall, shirtless men flanked her, both with swords on their hips. They were massive by human standards, neither of them having necks. “How’s my favorite slaver?”
Dvini still had to look down at them. He frowned at the woman. “Businessman.” He corrected.
“Well, slaving *is* a business I guess,” She rolled her eyes. Noble by blood, noble by appearance, the woman was gorgeous by anyone’s standards. If she was trying to be modest with her robe, it didn’t do any favors as the cloth was stretched by her breasts and the curve of her hips. She lounged in the chair, one long leg dangled off the side and swaying slowly. “I was worried you wouldn’t be coming. I’ve been waiting…For how long, Grotto?” She looked up at one of her meaty bodyguards.
The man grunted and shrugged.
“I was checking the product. Anything to satisfy the illustrious Anne Suffers.” Dvini said, sliding into his chair behind his desk. He didn’t understand why her last name was Suffers. He found her perfectly reasonable, more so than most of the nobles he sold to.
“Illustrious? You sound like my husband, Dvini. Trying to butter me up for something other than selling?” She smiled.
“No,” grunted Dvini as he reached for a quill and the appropriate papers.
“Ugh, so stoic! For a pleasure slaver, you’re not as cock-brained as we all expect, isn’t that right, Grotto?”
The hulk grunted again.
“You ordered something exotic.” Dvini flicked through the papers with a claw. Exotic races were anything other than Humans, Dwarves, Half-breeds, and Pure Elves. Sometimes they were easier to get, but they didn’t go to war with each other nearly as much, so the vultures of society like Dvini couldn’t profit off them as easily.
Still, he was the best in the business for a reason.
“You do know how to treat a client well! What’s the surprise? Minotaur? Equine Licani? Fishman? Spiderling?” Anne licked her lips. “I’ve never had eggs inside me, you know.”
“Ash Elf.” Dvini slipped the paper out. Anne tried and failed to blink away her surprised expression.
“You have an Ash Elf?”
“Mhm.”
“How’d you get one of those?” She asked. Ash Elves were notoriously reclusive, staying in their home country of Wrunelend, which was really just a big, obliterated forest from some apocalyptic event, or something. Dvini wasn’t keen on their backstory. They had a reputation for being quite a nasty race, very poor travel companions since so many of them practiced dark magic and more than often tried to use people for demon-summoning. Bloody business, that was.
“Got lucky,” muttered Dvini, scanning the contract for any hanging clauses. He’d been away on a business trip up north, trying to procure some slaves from the most recent war. On his way, he happened to run into the Ash Elf. They’d talked, and the Elf had told Dvini all about his reason for leaving Wrunelend, exploring the world on a quest for vengeance and destiny. Something about finding the witch who’d cursed his family. Dvini tuned it out about halfway through, and that night drugged the Elf to bring him to Bayreach. Everyone was on a quest. Everyone had a ‘great purpose.’ It was a chore to keep up with it all.
If he listened to every sob story, he’d be out of business.
“Well, I might be the luckiest woman this far south of the border.” Anne swooned.
“S’pose so.”
“I’ve never had one before.”
“Few have.”
“Have you?”
Dvini shrugged, folding the contract and slipping it into an inner pocket of his coat. “Shall we go?”
“Ugh, Dvini, you’re so boring, you never share any of your juicy details! I hear you Licani are well endowed with your species cocks – that true?” She grinned and leaned forward. Dvini had no idea what the fascination uptight nobles had with his race. Maybe it was a taboo thing, being fucked by towering half-beast humanoids.
This was the same woman who bought a merman from him once though, despite the logistics of keeping one. They were a lot like giant goldfish, though had the sexual appetites of dolphins. Many women had gone for a casual swim in the sea and ended up pushing out eggs a month after. Lady Suffers was a woman of great taste.
“Shall we go?” Dvini repeated. Anne groaned and flopped back into the chair.
“Fiiine. I guess we’ll go, Mister Slaver.”
“Businessman.” He corrected her again and stood. They followed him out, back onto the rickety bridges and crooked stairs. Anne’s muscle head bodyguards had to waddle like penguins when the alleyways narrowed.
“Three big men around me in an alleyway. I had a dream about this once.” Anne teased. Her guards chuckled like idiots. Dvini ignored her, turning left, then right, back and forth at a dizzying rate.
Dvini had rules for himself – don’t fuck your clients, and don’t fuck your supply. A lot of pleasure slavers couldn’t stop themselves. Plenty in the industry called it “testing the product.” Idiots. The rules were simple, and kept his business moving forward. Anne’s informal title ‘Lord of Chains’ was fitting, considering Dvini had the pleasure market cornered this far south.
“Back again, Lady Suffers?” One of the Dwarf guards asked as they entered the chilly dungeon.
“I like what I like.” She smiled and winked.
“I’m half a mind to sell myself just to fuck her if that’s the case.” Dvini heard one of the guards whisper to the other. Perks of being his kind of Licani were all the wolfish senses, including enhanced hearing and smell. He would remember that.
“You wanted him restrained.” Dvini said.
“Well, I was expecting something with more limbs when I said exotic, so I was just playing it safe,” hummed Anne. They passed cells full of dirty humans and Elves. One of them reached through the bars and grabbed Dvini’s cloak, stopping him.
“Please, let me go! I have a family! My husband needs me!” She squealed like a pig when he tore his cloak from her grasp. Her sobs followed them down the hallway. Slavery was a sad business if you let the morality of it get to you.
Dvini did not have that problem.
They stepped past a couple of the ‘test rooms,’ where prospective buyers could inspect a product. An Elven woman was stuck in a pillory, squirming as a fat, sweaty bastard stuck his fingers inside of her. She let out a pathetic mewl and caught Dvini’s gaze through the bars of her cell. Her thick green hair stuck to her scalp, her breath came out in quick, shallow breaths as the potential buyer slipped a third finger inside of her pussy.
“Ooo, can we watch a bit?” Anne asked, placing her hand on Dvini’s shoulder. “I’ve got a thing for Elves tied up.”
Everyone did. “Fine.” He grunted.
“Please, please, let me go,” the Elf started to cry. She tried to say something else, but it got caught in an unwanted moan. Her thighs quivered when the fat man pushed his fingers up to the knuckle inside of her. A thin sheen of sweat formed, giving her a modest glow as she was molested. The man’s free hand came around, pinching one of her nipples and tugging on it. She winced. Dvini had seen a lot of naked Elves, and they all looked the same to him. She was skinny, with modest breasts, toned thighs from running, and her abs flexed with each hot breath.
“Not in my ass!” She yelped once her buyer decided to test more of her. “No, no, we aren’t supposed to, to, to,” the Elf broke into a spluttering, snotty mess of half-sobs and heated moans. Anal was taboo, and the Pure Elves were very strict about it. Something about their religion and afterlife. Dvini was pretty sure that if they were fucked in the ass, they’d never be given the gift of eternal calm, or whatever the fuck they believed.
The fat man pressed his hand against his bulge as he finger fucked her. She’d given up begging and instead let her head droop. Her face was a wet mess, and she panted like a bitch in eat, thighs quivering. She rocked back and forth against his hand. Her whole body tensed, toes and fingers curling. A loud moan burst out of her mouth and she shook as she came.
“I wasn’t…I wasn’t supposed to cum. Now…Now…” She broke down, going limp in the pillory and her shoulder heaving with sobs.
“How much for her?” The man looked up at them, licking his fingers. He was a real ugly bastard, with a smashed nose and face riddled with acne scars.
“Two hundred.”
“Who do I pay?”
“I’ll send for someone. I’ve got another client I’m with.” Dvini gestured toward Anne, who was pinching her nipple through her robe.
“I’ll be here,” The fat man grinned and dropped to his knees. The Elf didn’t even bother struggling as he spread her ass cheeks and buried his face between them. For her, the end came when she did and now she just had to accept her fate.
Dvini stopped one of his Dwarven guards. “Send Derry to cell seventy. The client wants the Elf.” The guard nodded, slapped a lazy saluted, and trotted off.
“Why Dwarves?” Anne asked as they walked past dozens of similar scenes.
“Hm?”
“All your guards are Dwarves.”
“Dwarves are more loyal to gold than they are to anything else. Human guards tend to get sad while down here. I’ve had problems in the past with them freeing the products.”
“Huh…”
“And they’ll fight just about anything. Ever seen a gang of Dwarves fight a Spiderling Matriarch?”
Anne shook her head. “Have you?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I had to halve the price on the Matriarch afterward.”
“You’re a cold man, Dvini.”
He shrugged. Gold didn’t care about feelings, and neither did he.
They stopped in front of an iron-studded door at the end of a hallway. Dvini fished out a key ring and flipped through a dozen keys before finding the right one. The lock clunked when he opened it, and the door swung toward them. The small room was lit by a pair of torches, and there was a small, salty breeze from a vent at the top. Couldn’t have the product asphyxiating while in here.
“Who goes there?” A sharp voice barked at them. “Release me at once, heathens. Once I am free, I will send you to the Dark Beyond myself. My ally is a vicious Licani who will eviscerate you and eat your corpses!”
“He doesn’t know?” Anne stood on her tip toes to whisper to Dvini, who shrugged in response.
The Ash Elf was bound at the far end of the cell. His arms were bent behind his back and locked in manacles, which were attached to a chain that ran to the ceiling. His feet were spread and bound, and the chain links rattled as he struggled. There was a dirty rag over his eyes.
Dvini heard Anne suck in through her teeth. The Ash Elf was stripped down, and nothing was hidden. His limp cock hung between his legs, dark as the rest of his body. All of them had a slight grey hue which varied in tone. As far as Dvini knew, this one was darker than most. The Elf was thin, like a lightning struck tree, and they could see every muscle flexing as he struggled. His abs heaved with effort, hairless cock and balls slapping against his thighs.
He had long red hair that reached down to his shoulders. Elven faces were angular, but his looked like something carved out of obsidian, a natural work of art. His ears were long and pointed, flopping lightly with his movements.
“He’s gorgeous.” Anne breathed. The Elf’s head snapped toward them. His lips curled into a vicious snarl.
“I’ll rip your heart out, witch!”
“And they *do* have a temperament.” Anne giggled and sashayed toward him. Her bodyguards lingered near the door with Dvini. She dropped to her knees in front of the Elf, licking her lips and staring at his cock. Even limp, it hung halfway down his thighs. Anne took it in her hand, gingerly stroking it. The Ash Elf stiffened at her touch before struggling some more.
“Unhand me, fiend!”
“You have a funny way of talking,” cooed Anne, before sticking her tongue out and running it up his shaft. “I like it when boys are vocal.” She ran her hand up and down his cock, pinky sticking out like she was sipping from a tea cup. His dick stiffened in her grip against his will, twitching as it filled with blood. Soon enough, Anne had his long black prick draped over her face. She leaned forward on her knees and arched her back, causing her hips to flare out and her dress to hug her ass. Dvini noticed her guards reaching for their pants and trying to make room.
Animals, all of them.
“My name is Tiberius Rachmov, First Born of the Dark Lord –” He started to shout before Anne wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. His words melted away with a quick breath. She suckled on the tip, jerking him off with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. Even in chains, Tiberius couldn’t help but push his hips forward, trying to fit more of his dick into her mouth.
“You’re an eager boy, mister First Born,” giggled Anne, lapping at precum as it oozed out. “Do you want to fuck me that badly?”
“N-no, I must return to my quest of vengeance against the witch who – Oh, fuck.” He groaned as Anne swallowed half his cock. He wasn’t girthy, but he made up for it in length. Dvini guessed he must have been working with a solid twelve inches. That meant he could charge more for the sale.
Anne reached around and grabbed Tiberius’ ass, pulling him forward. She stretched her mouth, tongue rubbing against the underside of his cock as she swallowed all of it. Tiberius breathed heavily, shuddering in his captivity as he was used. Anne’s throat bulged, and thick globs of spit formed around her lips as she choked and gagged herself on him. She bobbed her head up and down, throatfucking herself and blowing snot bubbled out her nose. The prison cell quickly filled with the sounds of her gurgling and coughing on his cock.
He yelped when she stuck a finger up his ass, but it wasn’t like he could stop her. Anne slowly pulled herself off, dragging her lips along his length and finally releasing him with a messy pop. A string of spit stretched her tongue to his prick. She grabbed him and started jerking him off.
“Not the thickest, but you’ve got the length. Do you shave down here?”
“I…You must unhand me!” He is breaths came sharp and shallow.
“Not likely,” Anne looked over her shoulder. Her face was a wet mess, lipstick smeared and eyeshadow running down her cheeks. If Dvini had to guess, she planned to make a mess of herself. “Can I indulge myself on him? Just a teensy, tiny bit?”
Dvini shrugged. As long as she didn’t fuck him in the ass, she could do what she wanted.
“You’re too good to me,” Anne gave Tiberius a couple more tugs before standing. She started to undo some ties on her robes. They fell in a pile around her ankles. Anne was clearly ready for this since wasn’t wearing any underwear. She was curvy, with large breasts and wide hips. Her ass jiggled when she turned, and her meaty thighs shook with her movements. Anne’s tits hung like udders when she bent over and pressed herself against Tiberius. She guided his cock up and down the cleft of her fat ass.
“Ever had human pussy before, baby?”
“I would never have sex with a filthy human!” Tiberius crowed, though he wasn’t struggling nearly as hard anymore.
“Oh, we’re going to change that,” Anne reached behind her, grabbing his cock and guiding to her soaked cunt. Tiberius tried to say something, but it came out as a meek squeak instead as she pushed herself down him. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she grabbed one of her tits with a groan. “Oh, fuck yes, you’re in there deep.”
She lifted herself off, and then back down, her ass clapping against his hips. Her pussy squelched with each thrust. Anne reached between her legs, rubbing at her clit while she used the Ash Elf like a fuck toy. To her, a noblewoman who got whatever she wanted, most people were fuck toys.
“Grotto, c’mere,” moaned Anne, as if to prove Dvini’s point. Her eager bodyguard had his pants around his ankles by the time he reached her. His cock wasn’t as long as Tiberius’ but had a lot more girth to it. Anne grabbed it and pulled it into her mouth like she’d die without dick. And there she was, being spitroasted by two men and moaning like a brothel bitch. Tiberius stopped complaining and now groaned in pleasure, bucking his hips as much as he could given his restraints.
The other bodyguard glanced at Dvini as if asking for permission to join in. The Licani just scowled down at him.
Grotto grabbed fistfuls of Anne’s golden hair, pulling her quickly up and down his cock. She opened her mouth and gagged on him. Spit splattered onto the floor as she coughed around the invasive prick. Her pussy and inner thighs were soaked with her juices as she continued to bounce backwards, tits swaying. The other meathead had fished his dick out and was now masturbating furiously to the scene. Dvini held his scowl and waited patiently for Anne to finish her test run.
It didn’t take too long for Tiberius to cum. Being on an epic quest for vengeance didn’t leave a lot of time to jerk off, and being assaulted and forced to fuck a soft, gorgeous noblewoman meant he was cumming before he could warn her. Anne groaned as he dumped his load inside of her, thick strands of hot cum splattering out of her cunt and onto the floor in bright white puddles once she was too full to take any more. When she tried to pull herself off, Grotto grabbed her head and shoved her down to the balls. Anne’s eyes rolled backwards as he came, her throat bulging with cock and cum until she couldn’t handle any more and it spurt out her nose in thick lines. Grotto stepped back and used a fistful of her hair as a cumrag. For being an employee, he took great liberty with his boss’ face.
Anne didn’t seem to mind, smiling like an idiot as cum came out both ends. Her other guard just came on the ground, bellowing like a bull as he did so. Divini made a note to send the cleaners in here later.
“Oh, I needed that,” She slumped to her knees, sitting in jizz. Tiberius’ limp cock dangled over her face. She suckled on it. “How much for him, Dvini?”
“Three thousand.” He said curtly.
“Three thousand? That’s more than –”
“Three. Thousand.” Dvini cut her off. He gave prices and people paid them. This wasn’t a seaside market. Ash Elves were damn hard to find, and he had a long cock so that made him more valuable.
“Dvini? Dvini, you’re here?” Tiberius asked after catching his breath.
“Mhm.”
“What does she mean, how much for me?”
“I’m going to buy you,” giggled Anne, slurping on his dick like a lollypop. “Three thousand marks is a small fortune, you should be honored.”
“Buy…me?”
“Dvini is a pleasure slaver. Biggest one south of the border.” She said. Dvini watched the realization sink on Tiberius’ angled face. First the surprise, then the shock, then the anger and curled lips. In a few seconds he’d start shouting.
“You son of a bitch!” There it was. “I trusted you! I told you about the witch who cursed my family! You said you’d help me on my great journey. It was supposed to be my destiny to kill her and free my bloodline from our cursed afterlife.” He thrashed against his bonds. It was always some sob story with them. Wah, look at me, I’m so special, wah.
“Guess your new destiny to be my little boytoy.” Anne said.
“You harpy, I’ll flay you alive and use your corpse as a gateway to the Dark Beyond. Your soul will know nothing but torment for all of eternity.” Tiberius was practically foaming at the mouth. Anne looked up at Dvini, covered in cum, and pouted.
“He’s not very nice.”
“Three thousand.” Dvini grunted.
“You can’t sell me. My father, he’s an Ash Elf Dark Lord! I’m his only child, I must be the one to break the curse.” And now came the begging, the appeals to Dvini’s emotions. You can’t sell me, I’m too *important*.
Gold didn’t care about feelings, and Dvini didn’t either.
“Don’t worry, baby. At least you’ll live the rest of your days, however long that is, being used for pleasure,” Anne stood, hands slithering up his bare chest. “Plenty of my personal guard have a proclivity for soft, virgin boypussy. Keep being a mean little prick, and I’ll make sure you never have a solid shit again.” She whispered, but Dvini picked it up. That shut Tiberius up. The threat of sodomy tended to do that. He hung there quietly as Grotto and the other guard pulled out towels and kerchiefs for their mistress. She got as clean as possible. There were some twisted knots of cum in her hair, but Anne didn’t seem to mind. The cell was filled with the lingering miasma of sex, and it started to irritate Dvini’s nose. He ushered the three out and didn’t even look back at Tiberius before locking him back in his cage.
“Of course, I don’t just have three thousand marks on me, Dvini.” She said as they walked back past the rows of desperate slaves and reaching hands.
“I take checks.”
“Really?” Anne scrunched her nose. “I don’t trust the banks. My husband says they’re just a place where money goes to vanish.”
“Then come back when you can give me the coin in person.”
“But I want the Elf now,” pouted the noblewoman.
“Check, then.”
“You wouldn’t make an exception for your favorite customer,” she fluttered her eyelashes. “Think of it like a loan, which I’ll pay back on interest.” Dvini gave Anne a more personal experience because of how often she bought from him, but he didn’t trust the nobility in the slightest. She’d take his Ash Elf and run. She’d never be able to show her face in the south again since he’d likely cut it off, but there were other pleasure slavers in other parts of the world.
Business boomed, after all.
“No, Anne. Check or coin. It’s your call, but I won’t give you the Elf until you give me my money.” He grunted. She frowned and looked at her guards. Maybe she was thinking of testing her luck against him, but they were in his holding cells surrounded by the Dwarves.
“Fine. Your product, your price, and that was just such a good quickie. I’ll come back in…Four days with the coin and to pick up Tiberius.”
“You don’t have to come to my office. Come here and ask for Derry.”
“Derry?”
“A Dwarf. He’s my head of security here, as well as my collector.”
“I thought you handled all the coin yourself.”
Dvini shrugged. “I’ve expanded.”
They stepped back outside and said their goodbyes, turning away from one another and melting away into the filthy Bayreach crowds. Dvini turned back down his alleyway. Up the stairs. Across the bridges. Past the beggars and trash. Up, up, back home where he took his cloak off and draped it over the bar counter. He took out a small glass, claws tinkling against the whiskey bottles as he poured himself a drink.
There was more business to attend to, but he sat in the chill of his building, alone. Dvini took a sip. The whiskey burned his throat, made his mouth water. He thought briefly of the Ash Elf, and the Pure Elf before, and the woman who clawed at his cloak for mercy. They were real people, plucked from freedom and cast into chains and filth. The way they begged on their knees was reminiscent of priests at the altar, asking the gods for gifts and signs of their good faith. Dvini had no idea what sort of fucked up gods had the sort of black humor that shaped his world, that infected him with the Lican disease which turned him into an eight-foot-tall wolfman, that spread diseases and wars and sowed chaotic seeds for seemingly no reason. Maybe the gods were really up there, laughing at them, laughing at him and his products.
Dvini finished his glass. If they were, that was fine. He made money off the chaos, piggy backed off the crimes of the divine.
After all, gold didn’t care about feelings, whether that of gods or mortals.
And neither did Dvini.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/bncfln/the_feeling_of_gold_mf_fantasy_bondage_non_con