In this sea, slavery is a common practice. It's something we can't fight, nor repeal. It's just there. We have to keep ourselves from being captured. Slaves are forced to do a series of tasks depending on their buyer. Servants, workers, benches, steeds, displays, anything you can imagine, a slave is reserved for that task.

However, there's a darker side to slavery. Sometimes a slave will be brought for sexual matters, mostly women. Mermaids from Fishman Island are used for this task, and are the rarest to be sold off. But when one is sold off…

As much as their struggle pains me, I have my own struggle…amongst my own kind.

We dwarves are unseen to the average person. But for over 900 years, we were enslaved by the Donquixote Family. And of course we were sold off to various people…But what would you use a small dwarf for? Our compact strength? Our cute appeal? Our ability to keep out of sight?

No.

We were used as cocksleeves!

"I can't wait to get my own dwarf!" One lucky guy said as he paid the tender. It was a brothel set up with dwarf girls as the main pull. The dwarf in particular was a beauty amongst dwarves, sporting purple hair and a particular set of eyes.

"You're so cute!" Said the one lucky guy. She looked at him, worried. "Are you…going to have sex with me?"

"Yes, but I'll be gentle. I promise!"

"Oh, okay! As long as you're gentle!" The dwarf undressed and showed herself to the lucky fucker who was about to get his dick in a hole tighter than the conditions of black folk.

"Can I fit in there?" He picked her up and slowly pushed downward. She bit her lip a bit from the sensation.

"C'mon Cotton…you've done this before-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!" The dick went in, which was around 2/3rd's of her body. Her entire mouth and tongue gaped open.

"HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE TIGHTEST PUSSY I'VE EVER FELT!" The lucky guy was enticed beyond belief. Her sudden surge of wetness lubed him enough to keep thrusting onward. Cotton was befuddled with passion, but started to slobber.

"Hold it in," She thought. "Easier said than done!" She caught her breath. "You said y-you'd be g-gentle!"

"I'm sorry, but it feels too good!"

"Well, if i-it f-f-feels good, there's n-no helping it!" He kept on thrusting and thrusting the tiny woman up and down. He couldn't take it anymore. He released inside of her, causing semen to shoot from all parts of her face. Even her tears were thick and runny. This was an example of the torment that dwarf girls endured as slaves.

Next day, came two men. Cotton was to be used as a double dicker. One hole in the face pussy and one in the leg mouth. Imagine two men cutting a tree with a saw. There you go. The feeling was unfathomable for the gullible dwarf, but all she could do was endure it and move on to the next customer. Some were too big, some were so small they had no choice but to go to dwarves for relief. All girls squeaked a particular squeak when squeezed hard by their clients. The squeaks would forever serve as a reminder of their fate.

As Cotton kept getting used as an onahole, she found ways to make the experience less painful. She took some oil and rubbed it inside of her anus, and even her vagina. It proved to be effective, but she was still a dwarf taking in human dicks.

But the horror that was Wicca's experience one night made her turmoil minuscule. She found a man enriched in melanin. A smooth talker, with a swagger never seen in this part of town. When he disrobed, his penis exceeded that of the tallest dwarves. His balls, heavier than the roundest dwarves. She wasn't prepared to take that all in. She rubbed herself in lube and approached nervously.

"I dunno if you can handle all this, baby girl," The melanin-enriched man said. "It's really big…but if I don't do it…" She went down on it as best as she could. It wasn't going in unless she wanted a death wish. She stretched her labia and got the tippy-tippy-top of it wrapped around, like a water balloon around a faucet.

"Nah, baby. You gotta do it like this right here." He pushed down on her, going slowly down on his dick. Wicca started to tear up, literally.

"Ooh, das it mane." He twisted her around like a bottle cap. "I guess I gotta do it like this, then." He kept twisting her, moving around the head and swirling her around. Wicca was mindbroken. She couldn't say a word, nor speak or even cry. Normally, this should kill a person but for this story we'll keep her alive. Some weren't as lucky, suffering from internal injuries from their clients. Finally, the melanin-enriched gentlemen climaxed, gushing white genocide out of his member like an ice cream Snickers bar. Wicca flew across the room faster than a speeding bullet.

"Damn, that little lady can take a nut." As for the little lady, she was out of it for a week, and then came back to. Not being of any use, she was discarded and left for dead. In the trash where she awoke, she looked at the sky, wondering where she was. As a slave, no one cared for her well-being or saw her as anything but property. There was nowhere she could go. She was no more than a simple dicksleeve, past its expiration date.

And what happens when you wear out your old onahole? You get a new one.

For $63.