Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*****
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."
