Ogre Market

Women have been disappearing more recently, and now you know why. You’d been picking berries in a forest when you’d smelled something so sweet that it led you to a golden rose. When you went to pluck it, your feet had been lifted out from under you with a net lifting and knocking you out.

While unconscious, you’d been stripped of all clothes, bathed in oils, then lotioned up by dwarf slaves to the ogre, Grall, who had kidnapped you. When you wake, your skin is glistening and tight, shining against the other woman you’d been tied to by the wrists with your hands above your heads.

In the Black Forest is a trade-market for mythical creatures varying from pixies, fairies, elves, to centaurs, orcs, ogres, and so on. Despite the normal stands full of potions, fabrics, powders, and weapons, there’re occasionally rare booths in the far back where humans can be sold. Here, human women are considered rare and desirable, therefore expensive. Especially virgins.

Grall, the ogre who kidnapped you hollers, “Human women, 20% off! Ripe, sweet ladies bathed in rose oils!” Around you are pairs of women like yourself that groan and whimper, each body unique, sweet, alluring to customers. There’s a square fence around you all with a gate near the ogre’s booth to payout and soft grass beneath your feet. Several creatures pass by, some moving on, others looking, and several taking keen interests.

Meanwhile, the ogres who work for Grall, such as Vorg, Narzug, Thrag, Murgnock, are dispersed among the stock of you, assisting buyers, helping sell, and giving pitches.

Grall will give customers demonstrations of the women for sale and, with a customer who’s truly interested, he’ll let them have a little taste of the woman they’re interested in. Customers can’t go too far until they’ve paid.

Knowing his clients prefer women with pure, happy hearts, he and his workers pamper you all with pleasure. Additionally, at night, or when the women are not on sale, they are kept in luxurious locked rooms made of bamboo, soft grasses, and fox furs to keep them clean. Furthermore, they use aphrodisiac lotions and praise each woman for her beauty with words and touches. That’s why, despite your protests, your nipples are hard with your pussy aching and dripping wet, like that of every other woman.

While Grall is out for the moment, finalizing the purchase of a young redhead to an elf inside his tent, customers come and go. The woman you’re tied to, Evadne, uncomfortably wiggles against you, her big brown eyes full of unshed tears and lips quivering with moans. “S-sorry,” she whimpers as her body rubs against yours.