Author's Note: This story is a complete work of fiction. It is not a realistic representation of reality, nor is it meant to be taken as such. This work exists in imagination, and only in imagination. Contains themes of fantasy, interspecies relationships, futanari, unrealistic body proportions, and more. Viewer discretion advised. All characters that appear in this work are legal adults.
Marcus strode through the marketplace, the sun just barely setting over the horizon. He pulled his cloak tighter around his face as a chill nipped at his neck. He glanced around the market, scanning each stall and each person that walked around him. A multitude of shapes and sizes of people proliferated this world, no two beings were equivalent. A small dwarf with a beard half the size of his body strode past, his sacks quaking with goods either purchased or to sell. An older woman walked past, carrying a bucket of water on each end of a stick atop her shoulders. A huge orc, with intimidating muscles and a face full of scars, walked straight into Marcus' path, and he obliged this orc, letting the larger man pass without issue. Marcus was not a small man himself, having worked his body as a warrior for decades to provide for his family. But he was middle-aged now, and his children had grown up and moved away, wanting to avoid conflict if possible. His skills and knowledge, as well as the impeccable loyalty he honored, made him perfect for the "scouting" mission he had been on for nearly two years.
Two years since I have been home.
He was provided with a large sum of gold when his journey first began, and he pictured himself returning home within six months, welcomed back with open arms to receive his reward.
But now he was down to his last few coins -- and when he ran out, he would have to travel home and report his failure. Marcus was a proud man who did not want this. So, he would continue looking until he succeeded. He was in the sixth country during his search now, having travelled almost the entire continent and passed through every major city within them.
His journey was not a normal one, and when he initially attempted to ask locals for help, they would laugh in his face or chase him out of town. So now he simply looked, having exhausted every tale he encountered.
As he continued though the marketplace, nothing especially interesting caught his eye. Weapon vendors, tools salesmen, craftsmen, potters, cobblers, none of this was for him. With the sun about to pass over the horizon, torches were being lit around the market, and shops began to close. Marcus let out a loud sigh and began to walk deeper into town, hoping to find lodging and some food for the night.
On his right, he noticed another market that was partially hidden behind a row of shops, the entrance unmarked, save for some guards. Looking beyond them, he saw people in cages: a slave market. Unlike his own country of Underhill, slavery was apparently still legal in this country, even if the practice was frowned upon. Normally he would have simply passed this market entirely, not wanting to be associated with such a business. But he was beginning to lose hope in his mission, and decided it was best to check it out anyway. He paused at the gate, gathering his breath before entering. He checked that his sword still hung at his waist and walked inside.
Most slave traders would have had their "stock" tied up or shackled to posts, standing near them and calling attention to themselves to make a sale.
"Strong young man here! Excellent worker!"
"Elderly woman, perfect for cooking or watching the children!"
"Orc for sale, the best bodyguard on the market!"
Marcus was disgusted. People who sold living beings like this did not even deserve the title of "people." The market stunk. Blood. Sweat. Waste. Something else he could not even begin to describe, as if the vendors gave off a terrifyingly villainous odor.
He had changed his mind, the slave market had nothing for him. He quickly passed by each stall, hardly glancing at each one, and certainly not trying to make eye contact with any of the slaves who were still shackled up, or already back in their cages. He had seen enough and turned to leave.
But while he was turning something blue caught the corner of his vision. There was a stall in the back corner, hardly visible, at least, he had not noticed it until now. It did not seem to have anybody manning it, but there was a slave shackled to a post, and sitting on the floor. She seemed to be asleep, as she had her head down as Marcus approached. He paused in front of her, shocked at what he was seeing. This creature, although covered in dirt and bruises, had fair, bright skin that glistened in the sunset. She had dark blue hair that fell in waves off her head, coming down to her shoulder blades, obscuring most of the woman's face. It was this strange color of hair that caught his attention, but that was just the beginning of this strange woman.
On her chest sat the largest breasts Marcus had ever seen in his life, they seemed to each be larger than his head, and sat perky on her frame, hardly sagging at all. Her light dress, which was hardly more than a sack someone had cut to clothe her, did little to hide them.
But then came the real shock, as the young woman moved her legs around -- which were also long and shapely -- he nearly doubled back at what he saw. At first it appeared to be another leg growing from her crotch, but as he focused in, he saw it was in fact a massive penis.
Even completely soft, it was about a foot long and thick around as Marcus' wrist, with a head that peeked down towards the ground. It was draped over her insane testicles, which created a valley for her shaft to rest. Each one was the size of a large melon and came most of the way to her knees, not quite as large as her breasts, but even when compared to her cock, they were too big for it. A spiderweb of veins covered its entirety, the sleeping giant looked like a serpent ready to attack him if he angered it.
By the gods...
Marcus was stunned. He had not expected to find this --
her --
here. He stood mouth agape, still not sure which part of her body to be looking at, as there was more than enough to take in.
Is she real? Is she some species I have never heard of before? Or is she...
But he did not have the time to decide, as the slave trader appeared from out behind back of his stall.
"Heya there, my friend, sorry, but I am just closing up for the day. Great day too, sold most of my stock, aside from this one here," the man cocked his head towards the woman still asleep on the ground.
This man had a nearly bald head but a sizable beard, as well as a large belly. He stood slightly shorter than Marcus, but he also had a fierce look about him, his prose standing as if he had seen action during his days. His clothing seemed upscale, like he was trying to be taken as a business professional, but his garbs were dirty, as if he had given up on appearances long after he bought them. He had that same pungent odor hanging around him that the rest of the slavers did. Filth.
"What is the story with...uh...this one here?" Marcus said, gesturing lightly to the woman.
"Well," the man paused, getting his story in order, "she came into my possession a few months back, as a part of package deal, ya see? Some raiders had gone through some forest and stumbled upon an elf village. Killed a whole lot of 'em, and took the rest as slaves. Been selling the rest of her kind, but she has been a real hard sell, 'cause of, well, ya can see" the man gestured towards her again. Marcus let his eyes drop to her cock again, still not certain what he was seeing was real. But he then blinked as the words sunk in.
Did he say elf village?
Marcus tilted his head, only now noticing the tip of a pointy ear poking from the long blue locks.
