Reven stumbled as a particularly burly orc thudded shoulders with the young farmer, a battle that he was always destined to lose, despite having grown rather tall and muscular over these last few formative years. His mind had been racing as he walked slowly through the bustling market streets, and his concentration had lapsed just before colliding with the shirtless brute.

See, this was Reven’s first time conducting business in the bustling city-town of Parnassus, without being accompanied by his father or older brother, and the sheer magnitude of the world that lay a mere half day’s ride from his simple farming village had overtaken him. The smell of regional delicacies being sold at market stalls, commingled with the stench of overpopulation, was a stark difference from the fresh mountain air of home. He had already spotted more fantastical species of creatures than he knew possible; orcs, elves, goblins, two trolls that had been fighting over a roasted griffin leg, gorgeous horned beauties that beckoned to him from dark alleyways and offered him the ‘ride of a lifetime’ for a small price. This town was truly magnificent, and it made him long for a day when he wouldn’t be constrained by something as boring as tending to crops, or herding livestock. Reven wanted a life of adventure, of intrigue. A life that would spread his name across the land and create a reputation for the young, handsome boy that preceded him wherever he traveled.

But such things would have to wait. In fact, it was just as likely that those things would never happen at all. His father had been reluctant enough to even let Reven’s older brother leave the village a year ago, and that had been for the altruistic cause of joining the war efforts. While Reven was happy that his brother had ventured out and decided to try and defend their lands, it also meant that Reven was the only other able-bodied son remaining, and that the chances of him ever finding his own freedom would now be slim to none. No, it was looking increasingly likely that sword fights, epic quests, buxom beauties, and songs in his honour were all things that would only ever exist in his daydreams, until the day that he died. Which is precisely why when his father had exclaimed that they needed a new slave on the farm in order to help with some of the day to day tasks, Reven had jumped at the chance to go into town and conduct the transaction on his own.

His father had been wary. He didn’t want to trust such a relatively large sum of their money to his son, who was still so young and prone to foolish flights of fancy. But he had seen the dullness in Reven’s eyes since his brother had left, and the way the young man seemed downtrodden by the day to day doldrums of everyday life. So he had softened, and agreed to let Reven go to Parnassus and buy a suitable slave, on the condition that he followed some very specific criteria.

“We need a worker, Rev.” His Father had said.

“Yes, dad.” Reven had replied, already bored.

“Check for callouses on their hands. Thick, muscular thighs. A male Orc would be best, but they can be expensive… and unruly. A human male should be fine.”

“Yes, dad.”

“Make sure they’ve done farm-work before. Harvest is right around the corner, and we don’t have time to be training any new-blood.”

“Yes, dad.”

“...And look through a vendor called Marthul’s stock first. He and I have done business together before, and if you tell him you’re my son he might just be inclined to do us a deal.”

“Yes, D-“

“But listen to me, Reven.” His father had said, his expression becoming very serious as he placed a firm hand on his son’s broad shoulder, “That city isn’t like home. It’s full of thieves, tricksters, and swindlers, every one of them wanting nothing more than to part simple folk like us with our gold. There is a whole world out there that I have done my best to shelter you and your brother from, but you are grown men now, and I can’t protect you from everything. So you just make sure you keep your wits about you.”

That conversation had happened a day ago, and already Reven felt like it had taken place in a different century. He was enraptured by the sights and sounds of the bustling city, and as he turned down a crowded street that signalled the entrance to the Slave District, his father’s warnings were nothing but a distant memory.

Reven began to walk down the crowded cobblestone of the city, spruikers to the left and the right shouting about how they had the best slaves this side of the capital. Women in heavy chains danced and twirled, showing off their scantily clad bodies for all the male shoppers to admire. Male slaves, wearing nothing but simple linen tunics, flexed and displayed their might for potential owners.

Reven’s eyes darted from stall to stall, beaming from ear to ear as the influx of activity made him feel more alive than ever. To his left, a particularly rowdy buyer had tried to grab a handful of a young elven slave-girl’s supple breast, and the stall’s owner had clubbed him over the head, screaming to every onlooker that there was strictly “no trying before buying!” On his right, a man was shouting to him that he looked like a young boy that knew quality when he saw it. Reven smiled politely, shook his head, and then continued on in search of this Marthul character that his father had recommended. His father had mentioned that the slave-trader was an older, half-dragon, which were an increasingly rare race in this day and age, so he shouldn’t be hard to spot.

However, before his search could truly begin in earnest, Reven felt a strong, bony grip on his bicep, and was yanked off the road towards a small, barely noticeable stall. “What the-“

“My boy, my boy. Ahh, yes, you look like a young man who can truly appreciate quality when you see it.” Came the raspy voice of an old, hunched over goblin, who was leaning tremendously on a gnarled walking stick. He hadn’t yet let go of Reven’s arm, and the young farm-boy was surprised at how much strength the old creature seemed to have in those long, decrepit fingers.

“Let me go!” Reven said, not sounding quite as confident as he had hoped, but finding that the trader did as instructed anyway.

“Now, now. No need to get testy, m’boy! Old Yarnir just wants you to get the best deal possible, and there’s no better deal in this shit-hole of a city than mine!”

“How convenient for you.” Reven replied, already suspicious of Yarnir’s practiced speech and silky cadence, and raising a single eyebrow to let the goblin know this.

The old man cackled with course laughter, that quickly became a chorus of painful sounding coughs.

“Anyway, I have business with a respectable trader.” Reven continued, “So if you don’t mind I’ll be on my way.”

“Respectable!?” The old goblin said, wiping spittle from his mouth as his hoarse voice did it’s best attempt at sounding hurt and offended. “You think Old Yarnir Isn’t respectable?! You tell me who you got business with and I’ll show you just one of my slaves that’s better than all of theirs combined.”

Reven wasn’t convinced, but he hadn’t walked away yet, either. “My family usually deals with Marthul, if you must know.”

“Mar-!? That old lizard-head!?” Yarnir sputtered in disbelief before erupting in a fresh bout of laughter and coughing. “Oh, oh son. That scaly bastard couldn’t hold a candle to one of my girls! He deals exclusively in cheap gutter-trash that are better for milking a cow than milking a strong human cock.”

“Uhh, you have the wrong idea, I’m afraid.” Reven said, backing away a step. “I need a working slave. Not… whatever it is you’re selling.”

“Nonsense, sonny!” The old goblin said, stepping forward. “I saw the way you were walking down the street, staring at every girl in sight. Practically drooling, you were! What you really want is someone that’ll take care of a young buck like yourself!” He pointed his cane at the bulge in Reven’s pants as he spoke, causing him to begin cackling again.

“Look, I really think I should lea-“

“Don’t be silly.” Yarnir said, cutting the farm boy off again. “Tell you what. I’ll show you my very best girl. I just got her, but I need to get rid of her before I move on to the next city over, so I’m willing to knock half of my asking price off. You take one look at her, and then you’ll practically be begging me to sell her to you. Sound good?”

The old goblin pointed at a dark, seedy looking alley that shot off from the Main Street. It was full of chained up slaves that were obviously ‘extra stock’ for many of the vendors.

Reven could practically feel the disapproving glare of his father’s eyes if he just knew he was considering this, but surely he could be trusted just to have a look? This was all part of the experience wasn’t it?

“Well… okay.” Reven finally said. “I suppose one quick look should be fine.”

Thanks for reading this far, hope you enjoyed my little opener for what I hope becomes a sprawling fantasy tale, full of adventure, romance, and smut o’plenty.

I have a couple ideas for how this may go, with the chief driving force being that while Reven is away in the large city, his simple, quiet village is raided and burned to the ground by an invading force, and his father dies during the battle. With his brother out of the picture for now, and no home to speak of, Reven is forced out into a big world he has relatively no knowledge of. He always dreamed of having adventure thrust upon him, but when the God’s wish to punish us, they often answer our prayers.

So, how do you and your character play into this? Well that is ultimately for you to decide. The obvious opening I left is for a slave-girl character. Reven is a young man who was caught thinking with his cock instead of his brain, and foolishly bought a slave-girl that he now owns and is responsible for. Why was she being offered so cheap? Is she maybe stolen property, with a sadistic master who is still on the hunt for what is rightfully his? Does she have a dark past? Is she actually more powerful than she lets on? A powerful sorceress held in check by a magical counter-spell imbued into her chains (“Never take her collar off, sonny! You hear me!? No matter what web of lies she may spin for you.”)

However, if you’d prefer to go a different route then I am open to hearing ideas. You could play a fellow adventurer who takes Reven under her wing. You could play one of the surviving female’s from Reven’s village (maybe a childhood friend), who sets out with him to get revenge. I will most likely be populating this world with a few characters, so if you’d like to control a few characters that’s also an option. I not only want to hear your ideas on where this could go, I actively encourage it.

The important thing is that we weave together a fun and exciting tale, with fleshed out characters, and solid writing.

Kinks/themes for this prompt: Adventure, budding romance, both rough and tender sex depending on context, fantastical elements worked into the smut (think: sex with succubi and other mythical creatures, love potions, magic that increases stamina/vigour, and more), size difference, D/s

Limits: Underage characters, snuff (death is fine, no fetishisation of death though), torture, excessive gore, scat, vomit, feet, celebrities, heavy BDSM.

If it’s not a limit, just ask about it, and I may be into it.

If you read this far, thank you! Look forward to hopefully hearing from some of you.