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CYOTF (New)

Amber sold

added by Anonymous 7 months ago A BM TG Mythological Mental

Ambers mind raced as she sat in her shackles inside the slaver's tent. It had been hours since Jeff had been taken and she could hardly quell the cognitive dissonance between where she sat now and the happiness, they had shared just hours earlier.

Falling to her side on the meager cot the slavers gave her, a small tear fell down her cheek. As the hours ticked and seller after seller passed on her, her worries about what kind of monster would buy her started to mix with new concerns about what would happen if they couldn't find a buyer.

God, Jeff, I hope you're safe

______________________________________---

Hours more passed.

"Faster!" came a growl. Amber rolled to her side and peeked through the partially open flap of here tent. Outside she saw the werewolf shoving a group of four. The smallest in the bunch - tripped and fell hard onto the rock-hard horse packed earth.

"Hey! Careful" One of them, a man somewhere in his twenties yelled back. He knelt, grabbing the boy and helping him to his feet.

"I'm ok, Mark" The boy said softly as the older man brushed him off with protective diligence.

He's so young to be here Amber thought A teenager....

"What are you going to do with us" came the third, a woman also in her twenties.

"Let us the fuck go!" yelled the fourth, the rage was evident on his face as he tensed his muscle-bound form.

From her cot, Amber couldn't help but notice their dress. Each was in hiking gear, modern hiking gear . Much like her own.

"Move!" The werewolf sneer, hitting the muscle-bound man with her staff. Taking the message, the group collected themselves and continued forward beyond Amber's limited outside view.

----------------------------------------

Hours more passed

Amber was half asleep, when a voice came from outside the tent. It was one of the elves.

"Perfect timing Torruk, we had a mated pair, but as you can imagine, we've been having some trouble selling the female half."

The conversation continued, mostly mumbles followed by a chorus of laughter. The elf's voice was joined by a barking shriek of a laugh, likely the werewolf, and a much deeper rumbling laugh.

The curtain of the tent lifted. In came the werewolf and an elf.

"She's right this way Tor" said the werewolf as a towering figure bent his way into the enclosure.

"You were right when you said she wasn't much to look at."

The minotaur was a beastly tower of muscle. Bending over, he brought his muzzle to her face, his gaping nostrils huffing wet, hot afterbreath into her face. Amber couldn't help but wince, letting out a small cough. He inhaled, taking in her sent, a small grin crosses his maw.

Standing, he brushed back the thick mane of hair that graced his head and thick neck, turning to the proprietors.

"Smells like flowers." He said, his deep laugh filling the confines of the tent. "I can change that."

"We expect nothing less from you and your clan" one of the elves replied. "You are, after all, one of our best customers."

"Who took her mate?"

"Proprietary information" the werewolf responded, grinning "We pride ourselves in protecting our customers."

"That is...unless the price is right" Said the elf.

"Fuckin' criminals always looking for extra coin" Tor responded, snorting a powerful breath of air from his nostrils. He took a small bag of gold and tossed it to the elf. "That enough?"

Glancing inside the pouch, the elf locked eyes with the minotaur "Chief Dak." The elf said with a grin as he tossed the bag to the werewolf "Says he's got a need for what he described as "meat" in his tribe. No doubt planning something."

"Fucking Dak...." Tor's eyes narrowed.

"Fucking Dak is right." The elf continued, his songlike voice betraying the malice of his words "The way he was looking at the boy...I'd say he's enjoying him far more than just as an extra sword.

Tor ignored the lewd comment. Asexual by nature, elves found sex inherently absurd, but enjoyed speculating on it as a perverse hobby of sorts.

"That orcish magic is strong, the soldiers Dak craft are basically pure muscle. I've met them in combat, some of the finest fighters I've ever seen."

"Oh you don't need to tell us Tor, we know all about Dak's need for muscle bound soldiers" The elf replied, a slight titter gracing his ever song like words.

Tor glared at the Elf "That's the one thing I respect about Tor, he's got good taste" He grunted "But that don't make up for the defects in his magic. His soldiers...they have a certain, weakness, if you know what I mean." Tor squeezed his crotch with one of his hefty, three fingered hands.

"Regardless, if he's planning something I'm going to need some men of my own." he continued "Luckily, the magic I got don't care about gender. My spells can put some meat on anyone. "

His eyes studied Amber.

He snorted " I ain't too worried about Dak. All Dak's got is orcs. I'm building something better. A collation of sorts. Sure I like me some 'taurs, but I've got me all kinds of soldiers. Satyrs, goblins, Centaurs, and yes, even the occasional Orc. Dak don't stand a chance"

The elf met the words with an aloof smile, clearly amused by the game-like wars of the various tribes. It was all so...silly to him.

"Regardless, I ain't takin' no risks. My magic sometimes works slow and the man has numbers." he paused, briefly considering his potential purchases "I'll take the girl, and throw in those four I saw you had tied up outside. All sorts of creatures we can make out of 'em."

With a snap of the elf's finger, the were wolf untied Amber, standing her up and clamping a pair of primitive handcuffs around her wrists.

"Where do you get all this meat anyway?" Tor asked as the werewolf prepared Amber for transport.

"Not far from here there appears to be some kind of rift" The elf replied, a smile gracing his cheeks. "One of our magic crafter's tells us there's another world that at certain junctures, crosses ours. Our captures are just the poor folk that happen to unknowingly wander through."

Tor snorted "Explains the fucking ugly clothes."

"Your purchase sir" the elf handed a rope that had been fashioned to amber's waist. Tor grabbed it, and without warning yanked amber forward, leading her out the tent.

Approaching a wagon, Tor wasted no time picking her up and throwing her in the back next to the other four who had already been loaded.

Hopping in the driver's seat, Tor whipped the horses and the wagon lurched forward.

A tear fell down amber's face as she thought of Jeff and wondered what the minotaur meant by 'putting meat on her bones.'




"


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