The Feeling of Gold

Anne didn't seem to mind, smiling like an idiot as cum came out both ends. Her other guard just came on the ground, bellowing like a bull as he did so. Divini made a note to send the cleaners in here later.

"Oh, I needed that," She slumped to her knees, sitting in jizz. Tiberius' limp cock dangled over her face. She suckled on it. "How much for him, Dvini?"

"Three thousand." He said curtly.

"Three thousand? That's more than -"

"Three. Thousand." Dvini cut her off. He gave prices and people paid them. This wasn't a seaside market. Ash Elves were damn hard to find, and he had a long cock so that made him more valuable.

"Dvini? Dvini, you're here?" Tiberius asked after catching his breath.

"Mhm."

"What does she mean, how much for me?"

"I'm going to buy you," giggled Anne, slurping on his dick like a lollypop. "Three thousand marks is a small fortune, you should be honored."

"Buy...me?"

"Dvini is a pleasure slaver. Biggest one south of the border." She said. Dvini watched the realization sink on Tiberius' angled face. First the surprise, then the shock, then the anger and curled lips. In a few seconds he'd start shouting.

"You son of a bitch!" There it was. "I trusted you! I told you about the witch who cursed my family! You said you'd help me on my great journey. It was supposed to be my destiny to kill her and free my bloodline from our cursed afterlife." He thrashed against his bonds. It was always some sob story with them. Wah, look at me, I'm so special, wah.

"Guess your new destiny to be my little boytoy." Anne said.

"You harpy, I'll flay you alive and use your corpse as a gateway to the Dark Beyond. Your soul will know nothing but torment for all of eternity." Tiberius was practically foaming at the mouth. Anne looked up at Dvini, covered in cum, and pouted.

"He's not very nice."

"Three thousand." Dvini grunted.

"You can't sell me. My father, he's an Ash Elf Dark Lord! I'm his only child, I must be the one to break the curse." And now came the begging, the appeals to Dvini's emotions. You can't sell me, I'm too important.

Gold didn't care about feelings, and Dvini didn't either.

"Don't worry, baby. At least you'll live the rest of your days, however long that is, being used for pleasure," Anne stood, hands slithering up his bare chest. "Plenty of my personal guard have a proclivity for soft, virgin boypussy. Keep being a mean little prick, and I'll make sure you never have a solid shit again." She whispered, but Dvini picked it up. That shut Tiberius up. The threat of sodomy tended to do that. He hung there quietly as Grotto and the other guard pulled out towels and kerchiefs for their mistress. She got as clean as possible. There were some twisted knots of cum in her hair, but Anne didn't seem to mind. The cell was filled with the lingering miasma of sex, and it started to irritate Dvini's nose. He ushered the three out and didn't even look back at Tiberius before locking him back in his cage.

"Of course, I don't just have three thousand marks on me, Dvini." She said as they walked back past the rows of desperate slaves and reaching hands.

"I take checks."

"Really?" Anne scrunched her nose. "I don't trust the banks. My husband says they're just a place where money goes to vanish."

"Then come back when you can give me the coin in person."

"But I want the Elf now," pouted the noblewoman.

"Check, then."

"You wouldn't make an exception for your favorite customer," she fluttered her eyelashes. "Think of it like a loan, which I'll pay back on interest." Dvini gave Anne a more personal experience because of how often she bought from him, but he didn't trust the nobility in the slightest. She'd take his Ash Elf and run. She'd never be able to show her face in the south again since he'd likely cut it off, but there were other pleasure slavers in other parts of the world.

Business boomed, after all.

"No, Anne. Check or coin. It's your call, but I won't give you the Elf until you give me my money." He grunted. She frowned and looked at her guards. Maybe she was thinking of testing her luck against him, but they were in his holding cells surrounded by the Dwarves.

"Fine. Your product, your price, and that was just such a good quickie. I'll come back in...Four days with the coin and to pick up Tiberius."

"You don't have to come to my office. Come here and ask for Derry."

"Derry?"

"A Dwarf. He's my head of security here, as well as my collector."

"I thought you handled all the coin yourself."

Dvini shrugged. "I've expanded."

They stepped back outside and said their goodbyes, turning away from one another and melting away into the filthy Bayreach crowds. Dvini turned back down his alleyway. Up the stairs. Across the bridges. Past the beggars and trash. Up, up, back home where he took his cloak off and draped it over the bar counter. He took out a small glass, claws tinkling against the whiskey bottles as he poured himself a drink.

There was more business to attend to, but he sat in the chill of his building, alone. Dvini took a sip. The whiskey burned his throat, made his mouth water. He thought briefly of the Ash Elf, and the Pure Elf before, and the woman who clawed at his cloak for mercy. They were real people, plucked from freedom and cast into chains and filth. The way they begged on their knees was reminiscent of priests at the altar, asking the gods for gifts and signs of their good faith. Dvini had no idea what sort of fucked up gods had the sort of black humor that shaped his world, that infected him with the Lican disease which turned him into an eight-foot-tall wolfman, that spread diseases and wars and sowed chaotic seeds for seemingly no reason. Maybe the gods were really up there, laughing at them, laughing at him and his products.

Dvini finished his glass. If they were, that was fine. He made money off the chaos, piggy backed off the crimes of the divine.

After all, gold didn't care about feelings, whether that of gods or mortals.

And neither did Dvini.