The Fenrir are creatures of legend. Often seen as the source of ancient 'Werewolf' mythos, they are a species of demi human with canine faces, digitgrade legs, and furry bodies. They are a different species from your average dog folk, having a far more animalistic likeness and being more like wolves than humans. This made it nearly impossible for them to pass as human in places where bigotry and slavery still held sway.
One such place was the American south in the 1800s. Thousands of black and demi human folk were enslaved to a selfish and malicious wealthy class. Centaur chained and forced into hard labor. Lamia sold into sex slavery and sensual entertainment. Dozens of other species native to the Americas downtrodden beneath those with the money and force to keep them captive.
A young Fenrir named Cassandra was in that exact situation. She was kept chained and whipped, working away in a kitchen for her 'owner'. That is until he was forced out of business by another large plantation. He had to sell off much of his land and the majority of his slaves. Cassandra was one of particular value due and she was brought to the city to be sold at auction to pay many of his debts.
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"We have next, this fine specimen of Fenrir. She is young and fine. A clear trophy to be desired. She works hard and is in good health. We will start the bidding at two hundred dollars." The auctioneer said, tapping a gavel on his stand.
He stood before a large crowd in the marketplace. To his right, bound in heavy manacles, was a woman. She wore a ragged dress and stood with her eyes downcast. She had a cute face with a short snout. Her body was covered in fluffy brown fur and a long, heavy mane of it came off her head in thick curls. Her paws were small and delicate, but worn by years of forced labor. She had a body more beautiful than most had seen in their lifetimes. Heavy with breasts and lined with head-turning curves. Her worn and fraying brown dress and white bodice did no favors for her gorgeous form. A long, full tail hung limply behind her. The morose, hopelessness in her features did little to diminish her attractiveness.
"Two hundred." One man raised his hand.
"Two twenty!" Another yelled quickly.
The bidding continued until it had cleared eight hundred dollars. Things started to slow, as the people buying here today were more interested in a strong back than a shapely non-human. It wasn't like any of them wanted to befoul themselves by laying with her anyway.
"Come now, surely such a treasure will not go for so little." The auctioneer urged the crowd.
A man in regal clothes and a thick cloak raised a gloved hand, "One thousand dollars."
"Wonderful! Wonderful! One thousand dollars. Do I hear one thousand fifty?" The auctioneer whooped. He looked around at the quiet people, "One thousand twenty five? One thousand twenty?"
Nobody responded.
"One thousand going once. One thousand going twice." He raised his gavel and waited a moment before banging it, "Sold to the gentleman in the dark hood."
A man pulled on Cassandra's chains and drew her off the stage. Over to the side, he waited for the mystery man to come over. He held up a key, "All yours, good sir. Just hand me the payment."
"Here you are." He drew a thick bundle of paper from his coat and handed it. Bank notes. A thousand dollars worth.
The man thumbed through them and nodded, "Good. She is yours. Fine business, sir. I wish you good favor."
"Thank you." The man took Cassandra's chain and led her away.
Originally she had tried to fight. She had tried to resist. The thought of escape tormented her for years after she had been enslaved. But it grew more and more difficult to try. She couldn't take the beatings, the lashings anymore. She just wanted to settle down with a good man and start a family, have some puppies. Lots of puppies. She wanted a huge family. The thought of it brought fresh tears to her deep emerald eyes and they streaked down her nose.
Her new owner came to a halt at the sound of her whimpers. He turned and reached out. She cringed and turned her head, waiting for the blow meant to silence her.
"Hey. Calm down. No need to cry." His hand caressed her face gently, wiping the tears from her fur.
She looked up in honest shock, her heart clenching in her throat. He cradled her cheek with a soft touch that made her unable to breathe. She couldn't see behind the dark veil in his hood, but she swore she could hear a smile in his voice.
"I've got a carriage waiting on the edge of town. I've worked hard to acquire you and I don't want you to be scared. Your life will only get better from today." He said quietly, rubbing a thumb sweetly along her tall pointed ear. Her tail flicked as a little shock of excitement went through her. He held her chain up for her to see, "This is only for them. It's only for us to get away safely. I promise you that, come sundown, you will never wear chains again."
Cassandra gulped and nodded.
"Good. Let us be off." He said, turning and hurrying away.
She closed her mouth and hurried to keep up. Who was this man? Was he saving her from slavery? She couldn't hope. She didn't let herself. This had to be a trick. If she hoped again and lost it, she knew she would break. Her heart would break and she wouldn't ever hope again.
But... just maybe...
******
On the edge of the small city, the faceless man led Cassandra to a waiting carriage. A white man sat up on it, reading a book while the horses chewed lazily on the thick green grass at the side of the road.
"In, in you get." He said, opening the door to the carriage, "Johnson, I was sucessful."
"I can see that, sir. I am indescribably happy for you." He said, snapping his book shut.
The man stepped in after Cassandra, "We're off, Johnson. Take us back to the farm."
