Just like a world where there were monstergirls, countless worlds existed where monster races had more males than females.
And in such a world across the cosmos, those monsters needed women.
Human women, to be precise. In this world, humans and elves were the majority of the species dominating the realm: with women being born almost in overwhelmingly high numbers. That said, the monster species lacking women found the soft, pale humanoids to be particularly beautiful and fertile.
A world where hypersexualized monster men preyed on soft, curvy human women, for all intents and purposes, existed somewhere in the universe.
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The best way not to disappear in the forests between empires is sometimes to give a little. Humans of Mundus had learned that.
Lucy had long accepted that things were the way they were. Orcs, big green monsters with strong bodies, aggressive natures, and high libido would be combing the woods, often snatching women to be sexually used. However, they knew better than to abduct anyone and drawing too much attention. Many unions were quite consenting, although the meaning of consent in a world run by sword and fire could be quite nebulous.
So it was her turn to forage this month for the village: she would give up her body if an orc, or hobgoblin accosted her: it was seen as fate, better than the town being raided by monsters and women being carried off.
Part of her preferred to be carried off by drow instead: the dark-skinned, white-haired, and cruel elves who also used pretty human women as concubines, or "odalisque" in a pinch: they at least treated them better than an orc's wife. Their women, rare and powerful drow women, were the merciless queens of the subterranean kingdoms born only one out of ten children. She heard the human women taken by them wore silks and weren't pushed too hard to work if they were pretty: large and strong, "tomboyish" women were used for slave labor. Their men were more attractive, though different than the sculpted features of an orc hulk, and they treated even human women set for slave labor gentler than other races: drow women rarely put out for the second-class males. For the drow, taking a few human women was better than raiding surface High Elf cities that would viciously fight any drow showing its face under the Mundus' sun. The human women gave birth to drow from their couplings in any case ever since the world changed inevitably centuries ago.
That change was never understood, and perhaps won't be deciphered and analyzed for several centuries.
Lucy sighed: at least the mushrooms in this area were particularly valuable owing to the ambient magic, everything grew better where monsters were involved. She picked some twigs from her red, rich curls of hair, her green eyes blinking as she surveyed, hoping no worthless goblin would try snatching her to be a bondage-enclosed sex toy: their women, not so rare, would likewise love to toy with humans, joining their husbands for fun in tormenting poor peasant maids with magical sexual toys and snatch them to the mysterious Twilight Market, there the women would be parcelled to other monsters, and perhaps, universes. Some goblin nations were rumored to use human, or elven women like horses, having longer legs. The goblins rid them on saddles modified for carrying their small frames, forming bizarre cavalry units of strong, running "girl riders"
Lucy wore little, a skirt and peasant's dress with not too much covering her up: if things went sideways, the dress would be easier to repair.
The last encounter was by a hair's length, she had to hide in the underbrush for an hour. Before her eyes, a slow procession had passed by the beaten path, several strong, handsome orcs, their almost sickeningly well-sculpted bodies clad in fur armor leading a train of captives: human women with hands tied before them, wearing only flimsy loincloths if anything(most were simply stripped naked), bodies already tattooed with tribal patterns, naked breasts painted with red sigils of the Orc Horde, and feet clad in soft fur boots. They were leashed to each other by the neck with resigned, tired faces, following the massive orcish men to be tribewives: likely given by a human town to be the orcs' wives and slaves, orcish women being rare like many monsters.
There was one human woman in the raider gang, prettier, more muscular, and older than the rest, wearing an orcish fur bikini and holding one of the orcs' hands, who returned her grasp with a grope on her plump ass. She was apparently the orc's wife and was regarded as a tribemate judging by the weapons she was allowed to keep. She could have been a knight defeated and subjugated by the orc taking her, the master-slave relationship blooming into what passed for love amongst orcs.
Lucy watched the slave train with blushing cheeks, trembling. She decided against joining them, this clan had women for now. If she had to make a sacrifice, let it be for something better than for averting an orc-raiding gang that might not even know of her village. Her basket full, Lucy quietly crawled out of the foliage, praying no other monster prowling the game-and-forage-rich forest bumped into her.
God forbid, it could have been a minotaur.
Minotaurs often kept to the mountains and their labyrinthine caves. Reclusive and terse, they rarely were seen, often seeking a woman to mate with. If their prey was submissive and satisfied them, they mostly left the woman alone after sex. Strong and combative women, often human or elven knights would make them feel possessive and fall in love with.
She had seen one chasing a poor female knight, apparently a voluptuous, blonde elf with a bottomless suit of armor, her ass traditionally bare, her armor protecting her chest, albeit with serious cleavage. Luckily the knightess had escaped to safety, running in fear and panic, but the minotaur's bull-like face and the equine, flared, thick cock that was as long as her arm with orange-sized testicles had burned itself to Lucy's memories, and warm dreams. Unsatisfied, his loincloth pushed away with his raging, massive erection, the bull-man had roared in animalistic rage when the panicking elvish woman disappeared, stamping his hoofed leg with a shockwave that sounded surreally loud, no matter how large a humanoid could be.
"WAHNT WOMAHN!"
The creature had bellowed, forming a cold pit in Lucy's stomach. "ELF-WOMAHN DAMN YOU!" He had roared, in a scream that almost sounded like the braying of a brazen bull.
His enormous fist had cracked a tree apart, Lucy hissing and making herself so small in her hiding place that she wished she disappeared. He'd kill Lucy with such a massive penis, anger, and lust buildup upon penetration, no doubt.
"I FIND YOU ELF WOMAHN!" He had roared his frustration into the forest before stomping off with his tree-sized battleax slung on his back.
"ONE DAY!" The bull-man had roared in unadulterated, horny fury and a butchered accented Common Tongue. "AHND FUHCK YOU!"
His passage had knocked out small trees with crackling, terrifying crashes: Lucy nearly peed herself in fear as the horny beast stomped off. If he had found her, she might even die from the penetration.
