The Lineage Ch. 01

Author's Note: This story is a complete work of fiction. It is not a realistic representation of reality, nor is it meant to be taken as such. This work exists in imagination, and only in imagination. Contains themes of fantasy, interspecies relationships, futanari, unrealistic body proportions, and more. Viewer discretion advised. All characters that appear in this work are legal adults.

Marcus strode through the marketplace, the sun just barely setting over the horizon. He pulled his cloak tighter around his face as a chill nipped at his neck. He glanced around the market, scanning each stall and each person that walked around him. A multitude of shapes and sizes of people proliferated this world, no two beings were equivalent. A small dwarf with a beard half the size of his body strode past, his sacks quaking with goods either purchased or to sell. An older woman walked past, carrying a bucket of water on each end of a stick atop her shoulders. A huge orc, with intimidating muscles and a face full of scars, walked straight into Marcus' path, and he obliged this orc, letting the larger man pass without issue. Marcus was not a small man himself, having worked his body as a warrior for decades to provide for his family. But he was middle-aged now, and his children had grown up and moved away, wanting to avoid conflict if possible. His skills and knowledge, as well as the impeccable loyalty he honored, made him perfect for the "scouting" mission he had been on for nearly two years.

Two years since I have been home.

He was provided with a large sum of gold when his journey first began, and he pictured himself returning home within six months, welcomed back with open arms to receive his reward.

But now he was down to his last few coins -- and when he ran out, he would have to travel home and report his failure. Marcus was a proud man who did not want this. So, he would continue looking until he succeeded. He was in the sixth country during his search now, having travelled almost the entire continent and passed through every major city within them.

His journey was not a normal one, and when he initially attempted to ask locals for help, they would laugh in his face or chase him out of town. So now he simply looked, having exhausted every tale he encountered.

As he continued though the marketplace, nothing especially interesting caught his eye. Weapon vendors, tools salesmen, craftsmen, potters, cobblers, none of this was for him. With the sun about to pass over the horizon, torches were being lit around the market, and shops began to close. Marcus let out a loud sigh and began to walk deeper into town, hoping to find lodging and some food for the night.

On his right, he noticed another market that was partially hidden behind a row of shops, the entrance unmarked, save for some guards. Looking beyond them, he saw people in cages: a slave market. Unlike his own country of Underhill, slavery was apparently still legal in this country, even if the practice was frowned upon. Normally he would have simply passed this market entirely, not wanting to be associated with such a business. But he was beginning to lose hope in his mission, and decided it was best to check it out anyway. He paused at the gate, gathering his breath before entering. He checked that his sword still hung at his waist and walked inside.

Most slave traders would have had their "stock" tied up or shackled to posts, standing near them and calling attention to themselves to make a sale.

"Strong young man here! Excellent worker!"

"Elderly woman, perfect for cooking or watching the children!"

"Orc for sale, the best bodyguard on the market!"

Marcus was disgusted. People who sold living beings like this did not even deserve the title of "people." The market stunk. Blood. Sweat. Waste. Something else he could not even begin to describe, as if the vendors gave off a terrifyingly villainous odor.

He had changed his mind, the slave market had nothing for him. He quickly passed by each stall, hardly glancing at each one, and certainly not trying to make eye contact with any of the slaves who were still shackled up, or already back in their cages. He had seen enough and turned to leave.

But while he was turning something blue caught the corner of his vision. There was a stall in the back corner, hardly visible, at least, he had not noticed it until now. It did not seem to have anybody manning it, but there was a slave shackled to a post, and sitting on the floor. She seemed to be asleep, as she had her head down as Marcus approached. He paused in front of her, shocked at what he was seeing. This creature, although covered in dirt and bruises, had fair, bright skin that glistened in the sunset. She had dark blue hair that fell in waves off her head, coming down to her shoulder blades, obscuring most of the woman's face. It was this strange color of hair that caught his attention, but that was just the beginning of this strange woman.

On her chest sat the largest breasts Marcus had ever seen in his life, they seemed to each be larger than his head, and sat perky on her frame, hardly sagging at all. Her light dress, which was hardly more than a sack someone had cut to clothe her, did little to hide them.

But then came the real shock, as the young woman moved her legs around -- which were also long and shapely -- he nearly doubled back at what he saw. At first it appeared to be another leg growing from her crotch, but as he focused in, he saw it was in fact a massive penis.

Even completely soft, it was about a foot long and thick around as Marcus' wrist, with a head that peeked down towards the ground. It was draped over her insane testicles, which created a valley for her shaft to rest. Each one was the size of a large melon and came most of the way to her knees, not quite as large as her breasts, but even when compared to her cock, they were too big for it. A spiderweb of veins covered its entirety, the sleeping giant looked like a serpent ready to attack him if he angered it.

By the gods...

Marcus was stunned. He had not expected to find this ­-- her -- here. He stood mouth agape, still not sure which part of her body to be looking at, as there was more than enough to take in.

Is she real? Is she some species I have never heard of before? Or is she...

But he did not have the time to decide, as the slave trader appeared from out behind back of his stall.

"Heya there, my friend, sorry, but I am just closing up for the day. Great day too, sold most of my stock, aside from this one here," the man cocked his head towards the woman still asleep on the ground.

This man had a nearly bald head but a sizable beard, as well as a large belly. He stood slightly shorter than Marcus, but he also had a fierce look about him, his prose standing as if he had seen action during his days. His clothing seemed upscale, like he was trying to be taken as a business professional, but his garbs were dirty, as if he had given up on appearances long after he bought them. He had that same pungent odor hanging around him that the rest of the slavers did. Filth.

"What is the story with...uh...this one here?" Marcus said, gesturing lightly to the woman.

"Well," the man paused, getting his story in order, "she came into my possession a few months back, as a part of package deal, ya see? Some raiders had gone through some forest and stumbled upon an elf village. Killed a whole lot of 'em, and took the rest as slaves. Been selling the rest of her kind, but she has been a real hard sell, 'cause of, well, ya can see" the man gestured towards her again. Marcus let his eyes drop to her cock again, still not certain what he was seeing was real. But he then blinked as the words sunk in.

Did he say elf village?

Marcus tilted his head, only now noticing the tip of a pointy ear poking from the long blue locks.

"A real hard sell, you said?"

"The problem is that damn thing between her legs!" the man barked. "Every time someone comes up to my stall, they try to avoid looking at her much as they can. Damn shame, it is, elves normally good to keep as sex slaves, ya see? And this one got all the womanly features a man could ask for. Great body, tits that would put any heifer to shame, and by far the most beautiful of the bunch she came with, which says something, seeing as elves are all easy on the eyes anyhow."

Marcus looked up to the man, "So...?"

"So!" That thing between her legs scares of 'eryone! You think any woman would want that this in them? Fuckin' kill 'em, it would! Men spit on her, either out of disgust or, hell, some of 'em just jealous if ya ask me! Everyone wants the rest of her, but that is a damn deal breaker! And to top it all off -- girl eats like a pack of orcs! Feed her much as I can, yet she still complainin' of hunger! Can only imagine where it goes," the man gestured to the girl as a whole.

Marcus was intrigued, "may I speak to her?"

The man looked at Marcus with a puzzled look, but complied, "yeah, let me get 'er up."

He came around front of the stall and kneeled next to the woman. He shook her shoulder violently, and Marcus almost intervened, but had to stand back for this one. He noticed her breasts bobbed and shook with each tremor.

"Aight, beastie, time to wake up! Got a customer 'ere."

He released his hand and the women slowly stirred. After a moment she looked up, and squinted her eyes, also opening her mouth slightly, as if yawning. She shook her head around and her hair flung wildly, but it stuck together as if matted. It clearly had not been washed in some time. As it settled, Marcus noticed her long pointed ear was more pronounced now. The woman opened her eyes slowly as to adjust to the light, looking upwards to him.

Marcus' heart stopped momentarily as she looked into the girl's eyes, they shone a shade of red he could not describe...no, it was not one shade, but a myriad of red, the streaks surrounded by her blindingly white sclera, giving her the appearance of having no pupil. It was like staring into fire, a roaring, breathing fire. They almost spoke to him, portals into another dimension, the rest of the world fading away as a strange warm feeling blanketed him. He could stare into them forever captivated, but the trader intervened.

"Aight aight, now yer up and I expect you to be on the best behavior, lassie. Don't need you chasing off any more potential sales, aight?" the man turned to Marcus, "I'm going to keep packing my shop, if ya like her, lemme know."

Marcus nodded to the man and he went away to pack his store. Marcus adjusted his cloak and sword as to not be in his way and got down on one knee to inspect the girl closer. He brought his hand slowly to her face, taking it in his palm and scanning each inch, noting the softness of her skin despite her current situation. The girl moaned lightly, obviously used to the handling. Even being this close, Marcus had to stretch his arm up as to not touch her large breasts, which stood as a barrier to the rest of her body. He looked down at her package once more, noting how smooth it all was, with blue rivers of blood crisscrossing the entire surface. The sleeping giant's skin looked loose, as if it could grow substantially. He looked back into her eyes, stabilizing himself so he would not fall into them. The flames seemed to sway around, as if pushed by the wind, while in the distance, he nearly heard the fire within them crackle.

"What is your name?" Marcus said quietly to her.

The girl struggled to speak, having to gather air before attempting to do so. Her throat sounded parched and beaten, as if she were severely dehydrated. A sputter emanated from her mouth as her tongue was forced to move.

"Z...Zenna..." she said quietly and with a rasp.

"Where are you from?"

"The n-north. The Hallowmire forest."

"Is what the slaver said true? About your family?"

"He...y-yes...bandits...came and killed...my family. Everyone else I...knew, has been sold off...it s-seems. I am the l-last o-one..." her voice trailed away.

She seemed to struggle with each word. If not physically, then emotionally. Clearly, she was still hurting from having her village ransacked, her family slaughtered like animals.

"Why do you have," Marcus broke eye contact and looked to her crotch, "this?"

Zenna blushed heavily. It seemed to be a tender subject for her, but she answered.

"I-I do not know why I h-have this. The village elders w-were certain I was under some sort of c-curse, or possessed by a d-d-demon." She shuffled her legs, as if to try and hide it, but it was too wide for her to accomplish, "they are...were...probably right... I'm just a f-freak...my whole village h-hate m-me...for this thing, so my m-mother sheltered me for my whole ch-childhood."

She paused, almost appearing that she wanted to cry, but was unable to produce tears.

"When I was just an a-adult, I began to w-wander outside the confines of my h-home. My m...mother, kept my inside, she feared for my safety if I were to travel around, where everyone would t-taunt me. It would slap against my legs if I tried to run, and it hurt s-so much, I could not keep up with the others in my v-village. My father seemed to resent me for it, he treated me as if he had b-bought into the elders' theories. I f-f-felt like an outsider, unwanted by my own family. My m-mother still loved me, so I stayed at home helping her while my b-brothers and sisters lived their lives..."

"Does it work?" interrupted Marcus.

Zenna looked confused, blinking heavily before speaking, "w...work?"

"Like, can you..." Marcus motioned with his hands, first having them together, and then pulling them apart. He then fluttered his hands up, simulating a substantial release of a liquid. The thought seemed to click within her mind.

"Y...yes...actually it works t-too well, maybe? So much comes out, its o-overwhelming...I'm just...a demon...I...have to be..."

"So you are very productive, yes?"

She looked hurt at his comment, feeling evaluated like a piece of livestock, "y-yes...I...it, is."

Marcus bit his lip, considering his options.

If what she says is true, she is by far the best candidate I have ever come across. I was hoping for a human, but elves have been breeding with us humans for so long, you would be hardy pressed to find someone without a little elven blood in them. She would definitely work.

Marcus did a quick scan of how much money he had remaining. It would only last him a few more weeks, and that is if he stretched it.

Not like I have any other choice; I cannot go home empty handed.

It was time to go all in. The man came back from behind his stall, apparently surprised to still see Marcus present.

"So, what's it gonna be, eh? Am I just wasting my time with you, too?"

Speaking without hesitation, "how much were you asking for her?"

The man seemed struck. Obviously, this was the first interest he had gotten on her. He looked back down at the girl, her face full of trepidation. She wanted to sleep again, anything to get out of this situation.

"Well uh, I usually ask around 100 gold for elves, them bein' so rare an' all...but this one been a pain in my side so long, I'll throw her for 50?"

"I can do 40."

"Deal. Lemme go find 'er papers." The man ducked behind the stall once more, looking pleased.

Marcus looked down at Zenna while this transpired. She appeared on the verge of tears, but there was little Marcus could do for her now. He would have to explain everything later. The man came back with a parchment in hand.

"Ere it is, just throw me the coin and sign here, and she's yours."

Marcus fished around his pouch and paid the man. He then pulled out a pen and began to fill out the form, while the man searched his set of keys for Zenna's shackles. Marcus had neglected to ask the man's name, but as he saw it on the form before him, it was probably best he did not try to pronounce it, anyways. He signed his name, and, against his best wishes, he was now a certified slave owner. He had to convince himself that this was for the better good, and if it did not work out, at least Zenna might be free from this man, as she clearly had suffered enough already.

"Think that oughta do it" the man said, counting his gold. "Go ahead an' take her, and don't bring her back, see? Sales final. Try not to 'ave too much fun with her, eh?" the man chuckled to himself. Marcus was disgusted.

Having her shackles removed, Zenna finally was able get up from the ground. She shuddered for a few moments, clearly having been unable to stand on her own for quite some time. She had to put her weight on the table as she stood, and each shake wobbled her massive chest. As she reached full height, she stumbled momentarily, her flaccid rod bobbed slightly across her sack, which pulled at her crotch heavily under their weight. Marcus noted that she hardly came up to his shoulders, despite the size of the rest of her body. Then he took note of her near-nudity, as the cloth she wore hardly left anything to the imagination.

Marcus undid his cloak that was tied around his shoulders, and then walked around behind Zenna to place it over her shoulders, instead. He noticed that her bust was visible even from behind, and in addition, she had a large round butt at the foundation of her trim back, sitting atop a pair of legs and flaring hips fit for a goddess.

As the trader had said, she was a being of pure, unbridled feminine beauty, but she also had something else that set her in a completely different league.

After placing his cloak on her, he walked back around front of her, and Zenna was able to see him for the first time, in detail.

He was a middle-aged man, but not quite so old as to be wholly wrinkled. He had an overgrown beard that clearly had not been shaven in weeks...or months. His hair ran in tangles down to his shoulders, which like the rest of his body, was clad in a suit of armor, save for his head. The protective suit may have once been shiny and clean, but it looked patched together in places, as if he had not been able to do proper maintenance in some time. He appeared well-built, at least based on what his armor would show. His image was wrapped up with a sheathed sword at his side, with a group of patches around his waist.

She was still studying him when the slaver returned.

"Hey, hey! You an Underhill knight, eh? What you doin' all the way out here? Thought slavery wasn't allow by the laws there," the man backed up, as if being ready to be attacked.

"It is illegal in Underhill, and this girl will not be a slave. Hopefully, you and I never meet again." Marcus said quickly and sternly. He placed his hand on Zenna's shoulder, and pulled her towards the exit.

"Let's go."

Zenna complied, pulling Marcus' cloak up around her head. It was the first time she had some clothing in months that properly covered her body, at least somewhat effectively. Her bust still caused the cloak to create a cliff of fabric, exposing her calves. After a moment, Marcus pulled his hand off, and kept walking while Zenna closely followed. They proceeded out of the slave market and headed deeper into town. They passed by groups of people and shops that were closing for the day, or bars that were just ramping up.

Now no longer cloaked, Marcus stood out like a sore thumb, and people gave him a wide berth. No one knew why an Underhill knight was all the way out here, and honestly, no one wanted to know. That fearful kingdom was known as a powerful force, and a blow against a knight serving them would bring down the heavens' wrath.

As they walked, Zenna took in the city around her. Aside from the slave market, she had not seen the rest of this metropolis, or any city for that matter. Truth be told, before she was taken from her destroyed home, she had never left the safety of the forest.