The Slave Market verseXsour diesel

[Verse]

Erryl Earthlander enjoyed his place in society. It was his people - referred to as the Midfolk by Skeratto natives - who'd built this new world upon the old one. Most of the people in the Thremarra market still remembered Skeratto before the Landing Party that had laid siege to their continent. Well, most of it. Some places were still to be tamed. But if most of the land had fallen, what chance did some plots of savages have? Soon, Skeratto would be civilized.

The world Erryl had come from was spoken for. He himself had left considerable wealth in land and ore behind to see what this new place might bring. His station in his old home was reflected in the rank he had here. A Lander. And one of rather high worth, if he may say so himself. He had his iron mines, which supplied the Landing Party with the material needed to subdue these critters. The iron that bound the Fae and killed the orcs. The armor that protected all Midfolk.

The tumultuous first years of taking Skeratto were over. He went to chip away at the last strongholds sometimes, for his bloodthirst, but mostly he jus enjoyed his riches now. And to the young Lander that meant doing it at the cost of others. It was because of men like him, and their demands, that the Life Market in Thremarra existed. He came here often. His estate and biggest mine wasn't far from here. And, being the capitol, this Life Market provided him with a busy array of choices. Getting new creatures was a pastime of his - and even though he was a Lander, known to have others do their work for him, Erryl himself was prolific for his skill in taming just about any creature without help. Of course, being a man hung like an ogre helped.

Today the Lander wore a blue coat over light trousers, and brown, tall, boots. He had a good height for a human, but that didn't matter much, since all races had their innate sizes. He could not stand shoulder to shoulder with the Giants chained to the ground on their backs, on the grass field connected to the market, and he could not hope to squat down low enough for the borrowers. So you'd just have to insist upon yourself as yourself, and whatever race you were born into. Here, he was well regarded and respected. Midfolk had won the war. Everyone else bowed whether they wanted to or not.

He stopped by a stand with lit-up jars and cages, placed on the table and shelves. The Earthlander son thought the display was well done, and one creature caught his eye immediately. "These have a diversity." he said and pretended to be considering all of them. But it was true. Fairies were usually caught in batches, but these were different, all of them. This seller must have a varied and vast stock.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Lander sir." the keep said and lifted his hat. He was a goblin. Erryl knew he must be a very dedicated business man not to have eaten his inventory already. Erryl could respect that. "We don't go out to sack their homestead. We pluck them." his voice was nasal, but his language was understandable, it was a variation of the common tongue forced upon Skeratto after the landing. Goblins were hard to teach, so the fact that this one had taken the time and effort boded well. "This is a very well curated establishment." the seller chirped on and snapped his suspenders. Erryl lifted a black brow and finally grabbed the jar with a leather lid. The creature inside was adorable. The goblin raised a finger. "Recently plucked. We haven't gotten her name yet, but she's lovely, isn't she?"

Erryl turned the cylinder once to look at her from all the good angles. "A pixie?" he asked to provoke her, if she could hear. His dark hair was brushed behind his ears, and while he had very prominent facial features, he wondered if he looked like a buffoon to her small self.

 

[Sour Diesel]

A woodland fairy was not a pixie, though few knew. For many confused the tiny and shy creatures who only seemed to appear at night. Pixies served the high elves, while a fairy was a servant to the ancestral fae spirits. It was a pretty severe insult to refer to a fairy priestess as such.

Her true name was a well kept secret. She didn’t dare give anyone that power. She took on many names. The beautiful fairy in the jar had golden tan skin. She wore an outfit made of flower stems and white lily petals, though this outfit did not include underwear. Pieces of her wilting dress were already falling apart. The fairy had no idea how she got here.

She fell asleep inside of a flower bulb. That was the last thing she remembered, then a sudden rush of being scooped up and stuffed inside of a mason jar. She couldn’t use her magic to break free. A container with no escape meant she could only grow to fit that size. Too small to use force meant waiting until she was set free. The fairy was removed from her forest.

A pang of detachment hit her no longer being able to bask in the ethereal fae realm. A city filled with smelly humans made her frightened. They were all so huge and moving fast in every direction. She was eventually taken to the shop where she would sit and wait. A stranger to this land, she had never spoken to a human much less been to the Life Market.

Then he approached. A hulking behemoth of a human. He was watching her like a hungry beast. Her little heart thumped with worry. Weight shifted around inside the jar being lifted so she shrunk a little and fluttered her white satin wings.

He saw up close she had hair like wheat chaffe tied up in a messy bun. Her cheeks were dotted with freckles, and her eyes shimmering deep emerald green. She gazed at the human’s distorted face in the jar palpitating with fear.

“I-I’m a woodland fairy, not a pixie. I do not serve the elfkin. Please let me go! I do not like being in a jar. Good sir,” she put on her biggest doe eyes hoping to stir sympathy out of the man holding her jar. The goblin had mentioned something about selling her like she was a piece of meat.

“I don’t know if you plan on eating me but I promise I do not taste good. I can offer you some fairy dust in exchange for letting me go?”

 

[Verse]

He had dealt with a few pixies. He of course knew the distinction between what was commonly known as pixies, and their woodland counterparts, but anything that was similar enough, would be categorized as such, to a slave trader. 'Pixie size' was the commonly used term. But Erryl wouldn't be as deep into this hobby if he didn't understand which kind she was. There was also a healthy doze of racism every time he decided to call her what was known as a derogatory name.

When he did feel her weight, he liked it. These small races were so substantial in mass. The dress was charming and also eluded to her fresh capture, and he tried to make her jiggled a bit, by shaking the jar gently up and down. Her fright was very fetching, and he deemed the freckles to be particularly becoming on her face. As she was talking, he handed an envelope of sapphire shards set in silver, known as Bonds, the most elegant way of keeping riches. The goblin salesman was quick to take it, and gasped when he looked inside. He handed Erryl a box of his best pixie tools to justify the price, even though it didn't come close. Erryl took the kit without lending the goblin another glance.

"And what would your dust do for me?" he asked. Some of them had varying properties. He, like any young boy from a home with means, had a period when all he would play with where these smaller creatures. This one seemed novice enough that she did not know of her own affinity to his kind. There was a reason there was a market for 'woodland fairies'. He started leaving the goblin and his establishment.

"I am much more interested in other things you have." he confessed and kept her steady as he walked the market. She might find his face distorted through her jar, but it was a handsome design, a product of good breeding and a healthy life. His noble nose was from his mother's side. "I'll tell you what," he said and sat down in a dining area so he could use the table to set both her and the box. He opened the box and looked at its offerings. He pulled out a ring by the silver thread it was attached to. He held it up to her.

"If you're obedient and good, I'll let you out if you put this collar on." Depending on how novice she was, she wouldn't know that's how he'd control her from now on. The metal was likely made from ore from his own mines. It would shrink and grow depending on the tug on the string, and force her to change with it. Though fairies were easy enough to tame that he wouldn't need it, always. "So, how about you take off that dress?" he asked, leaning back in the chair and circling the string around his finger as he was served a cold, fruity beverage by the elf waitress.

 

[Sour Diesel]

The fairy sat there on the table, inside of her jar. She listened through the air holes to the human who had purchased her from the terrible goblin merchant who stole her from her home. This human wanted her to wear a symbol of subjugation around her neck. He didn’t have to spell it out. That’s what a collar represented: ownership.

It seemed like he was keen on getting his way. She had to hope he’d open the jar so she would make her escape. Hopefully this one wasn’t keen to fae trickery.

“Fairy dust is so much better than pixie dust, I can assure you. A pinch of dust from my wings can make a man fly. It can enchant items and turn stone into gold. There isn’t anything it can’t do!” She fluttered her wings. The girl was animated while trying to sell herself to him. Though, there was only one thing he wanted. He asked her to undress.

“Well, this outfit is starting to wilt. I have no interest in wearing your slave collar,” she pouted and turned her back on Erryl. “Ridiculous that you would even ask, when I ask you for help.” She muttered more to herself than to this man of the Midfolk.

The fairy would unhook the thorn keeping her dress together. The entire ensemble would collapse around her. The fairy had a remarkably round butt like a pretty golden peach. When she turned around, he could see she had a pair of juicy breasts as well with pink areolae. Fairies were fruits of the great Erdtree, nestled within a deep underground fae grove shrine to the spirit realm.

In other words, this woodland fairy was bodacious in every extreme while maintaining a look on her face of quiet innocence. Never had anyone looked upon her in this way. She felt exposed and cold, but the one who had purchased her said to do so. She couldn’t predict the plan he had. Oh no, maybe he was going to eat her? That would explain why she was told to undress.

“Please… I don’t want to be a slave, but I ALSO don’t want to be eaten…” she collapsed inside the jar and started to quietly sob. She felt humiliated. Begging for her life while bearing her nude self to this hulking ogre. She couldn’t tell what he was planning and was scared.

 

[Verse]

She was rather adorable, bragging about impossible things for her dust. He wasn't even sure the fairy could boast a better use of it than the dust off pixies. It was a debate. It was easier to get Pixie dust and therefor it had more application, historically. Like iron vs gold. One had taken over the world and one paid for it. He pretended to listen though, to placate her. He needed to learn who she was, if he was going to match wits with her.

He tilted his head with faked understanding when she spoke about her dress. But while she did his bidding and got naked, and did show off a rather healthy amount of her flesh - he liked her shape - he placed the ring onto of the leather lid, so it would be gone when she turned back to him. He was very pleased with the silhouette she cut, and how delicious she looked, when she was so small. It made the jar that contained her look even more exclusive.

And then he gave himself to the scene inside, suffering with the little creature when she fell apart. He was mesmerized by how her little tits bounced and her ass jiggled when she fell apart to herself. She was very engaging on her little stage. And he supposed it helped with his ruse. The more he felt for her, the more he'd enjoy taking her later. "Who said I'd eat you?" he asked. "I am not so heartless."

His hand clapped once and then he turned the palms for her to see. They were quite empty. "Well, there you go. I've put the ring away. You seem so reasonable, and you look so lovely naked." he continued as though that was the best thing to say to weeping females. He then leaned back and crossed his arms. "But this won't do. We can't very well become acquainted through this glass."

He reached atop the jar, the leather roof to her current home, and unpopped a snap. Incidentally, the hole that opened up was about the size of her head, and nothing more. And, wouldn't you know it, the ring he'd set down was ready to collar her just around that hole, if she should buy the lie, and try to squeeze herself through, head first. "I'm afraid I can't trust you not to run away, but I'd like to at least look you in the eye if I could."

 

[Sour Diesel]

Well it was a myth of magical folklore that fairy dust could make you fly, it didn’t necessarily guarantee it would help you land. In truth it could do many things, but just as easily she could twist it to suit her desires. This Lily petal guardian was out of her depth. Now a prisoner, she had a choice to make. This human eased her fears of being devoured. If he wanted her dead he could simply smash the jar. He seemed nice enough. The metal ring slipped inside of the jar. As much as she hated it, there was no way out.

“Fine, human. I shouldn’t have expected you to let me fully free. Give me a moment,” she said and started shrinking herself down enough to slip the the collar on around her neck. The cold metal burned and made her yelp and cry. She instinctively grew but the collar prevented her from doing so. In fact she couldn’t cast anything. She was bound within the confines of a mere collar made of metal.

Now she was inside of the jar with the collar and leash attached. She was small enough to slip herself through the bottle neck and finally get some free air. She squirmed and a pop from her ass making it through helped her eject herself into open air. Her wings fluttered like a hummingbird making a high velocity flapping noise. The collar weighed her down a little so she couldn’t gain altitude as quick, and she couldn’t leave Erryl’s leash hand.

“That’s more like it. Now, you want to see my eyes?” She asked fluttered up close to the man. He was much more handsome up close. She never knew a human, and this one had a powerful musk she immediately smelled. It made her feel strange. The burning around her neck was dull but always present.

Up close she had the prettiest eyes of deep emerald green a midfolk ever saw. Their kind were very often brown or blue eyed. Green was extremely rare, but common among the fae.

“The goblin said this was a life market. The people here purchase flesh. I assumed you were going to eat me. I apologize if I was misled. Everything about this place is so strange. This collar burns. I want to take it off.” She wanted to pull it off of her but doing so would only burn her hand. He could see her wincing.

Between her legs he could see her perfect hairless little mons and smell an aroma of sweet citrus. Not a hair on her body except for her long golden hair and fine lined eyebrows.

“I assume you aren’t letting me go until you get something from me. So, if my fairy dust isn’t enough, perhaps I can share with you secrets of the fae? A fountain of eternal youth? It can be yours if you start by giving me your name” she asked. A classic trick. She was either taking him for an incredible fool or was playfully trying to gain an introduction from the slave breaker.

With fae the answer of being serious or kidding always relied on how their prey reacted to the trap set. The rules only applied when they stood to gain the most.

 

[Verse]

She was rather reasonable. He thought it was a pretty look on someone from the wild. He watched the ring dangle like a noose and how she accommodated its bond. It was a good quality circle, and seeing her shrink and then grow to fit it was quite the treat. It made him feel nostalgic to when his taming of fae was much more prolific. He favored the larger, sturdier races for work in the mines, and dealt mostly with them. This little thing was performing rather well, so far. He had missed this innocent naivety.

He pulled at the leash to help her out, as though she'd need it. They got to see each other out in the open, as though he'd been so interested in that. He held out his hand eventually, for her to stand on, if she chose to land there. He liked watching her hovering with her wings, stark nude and smelling so fresh. As he pinched the leash, and stroked his thumb upward over the thread, the ring would expand accordingly. It was a rather user-friendly mechanism. He was sure the trinket had come from his own research now, even though it was a widely-known technique. He made her grow to the length of his palm.

He let her speak. It was darling to hear it and see her walk into his trap. In their own tales, great trickery could defeat great enemies. But the human knew only force could do that. So, while the nude and elegant thing asked for his name, and thought maybe he'd give it and that she'd have power over him through it - he was known enough that she could get it eventually anyway - he was just thinking how wrong she was.

"Perhaps I will get your youth, if I eat you?" he asked, to see if that'd put fear in her beautiful, green eyes. Before she could do anything to escape, two flingers and a thumb locked around her stomach and spine. He tested the strength of her flight before feeding her fright, and shoved her in his mouth. His lips pinched her by her waist, and in there, his tongue would wriggle to split her legs until it could press up against the fruity cunt of her, the slick, powerful mass rubbing here there. Her torso was still mostly sticking out.

He wasn't about to bite down, of course, but still let his teeth descend and rise until they secured her from below and above. If she caught her wits before or after panicking, she would soon realize that he was not chewing on her, but only trying to flick her pussy with the large tip of his tongue. He could easily find it with the sensitivity of the tip, and how her flavor guided him there. Eventually, she would also tell him with her noises. He was rather proficient in tonguing pixies.

 

[Sour Diesel]

The little fairy fluttered above his hand for the moment. She was still wary of the human, and for good reason! He quickly snatched her out of the air. She fluttered her wings fast, then looked at her keeper with wide eyed terror.

“N-no… no please!” She begged. Her wings tired out. Then, he wrapped his lips around her. She whined and started kicking, feeling his teeth graze her skin without biting down. If this was a game she wasn’t clued in.

“I’ll-I’ll do anything you say just don’t eat me!” She whined. Something hot and wet prodded at her nethers. She let out a high little squeal. Both her legs straightened in sheer stimulation of what was happening.

The fairy started to cry. “Mother spirit I am sorry,” she whimpered in sylvan tongues squirming in between the man’s lips.

Her juices hit his tongue. The sweetest nectar he ever tasted. Bottling the stuff could fetch a nice price in the aphrodisiac market. The tip of his tongue could feel her small pussy lips quivering when he pressed against her. They parted a little from further prodding. The fairy could change her size in so many ways, he could definitely try to squeeze it inside of her. He could feel the fight drain out of the girl as she cried, resigned to her fate as his lunch.

 

[Verse]

He saw her sceptic expression and rested his eyes on it a bit before he sprung into action, which wasn't much of a motion at all. It wasn't like when you needed to fell the great, richly endowed female ogres or giants. He just had to snap his hand in a new angle and take her. He'd learned it long ago, how to counter their flightpatterns. It was much like catching flies. If you knew their reflexes, you could prepare for them. And if he hadn't been able to, he'd just tug the string.

She came alive with fright when he took her. She was novice to this, but her knew there was a market for the gourmand Landers who wanted to eat the races of Skeratto. If he wanted that from her, then he might not have done it out here in the open. She couldn't think that far, because she was new to the world of slavery. He smiled around her waist when she promised him things for her life, but he still forced her legs a part with his tongue. There was a delectable sense of power to be able to snap a being in half with your teeth.

He wondered if her distressed juices were different from how she'd taste if she was more willing. He'd find out eventually. He hummed around her with great approval at the over all profile of her cunt. The labia yielded for his exploration and the flavor became richer the more his slick appendage dug against her tiny womanhood. He grunted with some effort as he tried to push deeper into her.

A finger came up from below to support her head and fold her a little upward, sitting her up just a little so he could see her while her tried to cram his tongue into her. Of course her clit would be crushed and slathered on the way. She was giving adorable reactions, and the finger supporting her head rubbed the back of it encouragingly because of that. She was in no danger of being devoured, and maybe this would be sweeter if she knew.

As she became more pliable, his smooshing of his tongue in and around her sex could become more methodical. As he made his way into her, and got to map out how she was built on the inside as his tongue when in and out of her. Eventually the horror would subside to pleasure.

 

[Sour Diesel]

The tiny fae lady was horrified by the feeling going on around her nethers. She worried she was going to die painfully any second. Instead he started to lift her head and carry her so she wasn’t dangling like meat. He was being kind to her? Why? She sobbed harder from confusion.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Her voice quavered. He licked her cunny again and again. It was intentional, and the hot tingles felt so repulsive. He was toying with her special place!

“Mother of the forest why? What should I do?” She begged in sylvan.

“You promised him anything. He wants to be inside you.” The voices returned in a faint whisper. Her face darkened like she just received a grim message.

His tongue forced its way inside of her just enough to cause her body to jolt. The will of the fae worked against her to make her body more elastic. This magic made it so without much effort he could tongue-fuck the woodland fairy.

Her entire lower half felt so slimy and wet in the man’s mouth. Her butt and pussy had been licked clean and now she was on the breaching point of losing her virginity. Erryl’s little pet gripped his hand tightly and whimpered. The strength in her grip said that she was feeling something. A deep violation of her being mixed with a carnal twist that she couldn’t deny.

“You are… nnnn not going to ea-heeeat me?” She asked looking at him finally. The pressure in her cunny couldn’t be resisted anymore. He could feel the tension loosening in her lower half. Without thinking she grabbed one of his fingers and gripped a hold of it like she was planning on enduring him. She still had tears in her eyes but there was a clearer understanding.

 

[Verse]

She was coming apart in his mouth. He had tangled with giant beings himself, and enjoyed their skinship. It was quite something, wasn't it? Though he had yet to encounter something intelligent that had the ratio of himself to this fairy. That didn't stop him. He looked into her eyes when she was surprised to have her head lifted enough that it could happen. A particularly powerful punch from his tongue accompanied her contemplation.

While hit latest purchase was a little daft, he was grateful that she tasted well of a sweet fruit, but heavier than lemon. Perhaps more playful and yet musky, like a peeled clementine or the perfume made of it. Either way he enjoyed himself while she was obviously caught in her little upheaval. He thought it was adorable when she held on to his finger, and he could see it all up close.

Gradually, she showed signs of understanding. He couldn't very well explain it in detail with his mouth full, but perhaps she didn't need a long lecture either, not with her mind flooded as it was. He sensed his tongue allowed deeper into her, and he huffed at her when she finally concluded she would not be his early lunch. How brave she looked, taking on a giant's apatite, though not for her life.

He made good use of her race's skills in taking large object - it was a very understandable ability - and continued to flex his tongue as he pushed it forward against her. Employ her whole strength as she may, she stood little chance of clenching him out forever. Confidently he made the tip of his tongue sharper as he started filling her up with it.

She was eventually penetrated by the agile muscle, and a finger not being held by her entire hand continued to keep her head up. In fact, the palm came up under her, to fold her so she was more visible to him.

His tongue pulsed in and out. He was eager to see how it may fill up her body and let it sink again, during his retreat. In no time at all, the fairy would be getting tongue fucked by her new giant owner.