A New Sort of Labour

How could I refuse the offer? An elvish lord traveling through our town, offering a simple labourer like myself a place in his retinue, it was the stuff of dreams. He warned me that it would be different, “My boy, you understand I do not need the sort of labour you are accustomed to, yes?” He asked many questions like this, and said many other things like that, but all I could hear was getting to do one better than the adventurers that would occasionally sweep through the village.

Well after saying my goodbyes and fully accepting his offer, I went into the wagon he said would be mine. There I slept, sinking into the softness of the elven bed. When I awoke, I groped about for clothes but could find only scraps of fabric. And as I tried to turn them into some sort of outfit I realized that my body was now soft and elven and female.

As I was adjusting things to at least cover my new sex, the elvish lord entered. “Ah, Tizanya you are lovely.” As soon as he said the elvish name my old one left my mind.

“Yes my lord,” was all I could say. He had been powerful and intimidating before, but now he was also so alluring.

“Please show me that you are complete and ready.”

Hesitantly I pulled aside the fabric. I was wet and leaking, as well as blushing.

“Now, let us put that work ethic of yours to use in a different area. Elves take their time in all things, and we have a long journey back to my realm.

My knees buckled at the thought of it, and I lay on the bed to submit to my lord’s—and my own—desires.


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