Monthly Mini: Lina Tales #½

Author's Note: Mini-chapter for TK Stolle to be continued next month, possibly kicking off a new series. Question is, should I count this as its own story, or lump it in with the amorphous mass that is the Under the Moons of Stranglethorn banner? Tell me what you think in the comments if you think one would be better or worse, I'm legitimately unsure.

[brief futa/F] [impending hotdogging] [various groping/harassing] [captivity] [mostly story] [WoW]

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“Jus’ one?”

“The others were... not all that impressive. Couple half-starved dark irons. A tauren who’d probably have given us more trouble than he’d have been worth. And... her.”

Zera Seashadow lowered herself into a crouch, hanging her arms over her toned thighs and tilting her head slightly, giving her single eye a better view. The troll had seen a great number of things on her travels through Azeroth -- a well-spoken murloc, a draenei who became a rogue, and the teleportation of an entire major city. Today, though, Zera was seeing something new. “What in da Broken Isles is she?” Her gaze was directed at a single small cage, crouched within which was what appeared to be a young woman, barely more than a girl, if at all. Her pale gray-green skin matched neither orc nor troll nor goblin, taller than a dwarf but shorter than a human. The deep burgundy of the caged girl’s hair made her even more difficult to place.

“We’re, ah, not entirely sure cap’n.” The second speaker was another troll, a little shorter than the one-eyed captain and softer, less lean, less hungry. Spiky, bright pink hair contrasted sharply with Zera’s long, black-dyed braids, and her softer face and smaller tusks gave her an overall easier, more approachable appearance. “What we do know is that she’s a mage. Not necessarily a great one, but... not often you find mages in Booty Bay’s slave trade.”

“My name’s Lina.”

Zera blinked -- or was it winked? -- turning her attention from her crewmate and back to the girl in the cage. “What was dat?”

“My name.” The girl sighed, trying to stretch out but finding her container too confining to do so, even for her small stature and slim figure. Letting out a quiet groan, she curled up; her big, deep purple eyes open but not focusing on the two trolls inspecting her. “Where... am I?”

Now, the squatting troll’s mouth spread into a wide, tusked grin. “Ya on my ship, little mage t’ing. And ya my slave.”

“Who are you?”

The troll’s grin didn’t fade, her fierce orange eyes narrowing menacingly. “Zera Seashadow,” she announced proudly, waiting for the cowering her mere name was certain to bring.

“...Who?”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The ship, it turned out, was not of the ordinary variety -- neither a waterborne vessel nor one of the goblin zeppelins Lina was more familiar with, this ship more closely resembled one of the Alliance’s warships. A hulking vessel pushed along by massive propellers on the bottoms and sides, drifting steadily along... through the sky. Lina got an excellent view of the thing in its entirety from her newfound position on the crow’s nest, her cage dangling pendulously from the ship’s top mast as punishment for her... Lina wasn’t sure. Ignorance shouldn’t be so steeply punishable. Maybe perceived sass?

“H-hey, um... anyone... anyooone...!” No reply. Either Lina was too high up and far away to be heard (which made sense, considering the winds at this altitude) or the pirates below had been told to ignore her.

And they were definitely pirates. As unpleasant as swinging from a cage thousands of feet above the ocean really, honestly was, it gave the little half-breed mageling a decent chance to figure out where she was and what was going on. The crew, from what she could see of them down below, were impressively racially mixed, though perhaps tended towards trolls and humans. A few goblins, the occasional night elf, and even a gnome could be spotted among their ranks, but only one thing really stood out -- every single one of them appeared to be female. Unexpected.

Beyond keeping her eye on the crew, there were few other details Lina was able to pick out, even considering how perceptive as she was pretending to be. The ship itself was deceptively good craftsmanship, even though the twisted parts and various spiky protrusions made it look slapped together. The closer Lina looked, though, the more it seemed like all of those little quirks were in fact design choices, made either to make the ship look more intimidating, or for its artisanship to be underestimated. The flag was solid blue with a black emblem of what appeared to be some kind of ghost, stretched between two huge masts and held tightly in place so that it didn’t interfere with the whirling propellers that kept the hulking vessel moving.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” the young mage grumbled to herself, folding her knees against her tiny chest and wrapping her arms around those, sulking as her cage swayed from side to side, dangling freely in the wind this high up. She’d thought that, with her business with her sisters already sorted, she could get out of the chaos of adventuring and back to studying, actually learning magic rather than simply trying to use the meager few spells she knew. But nope. Sold into slavery. Of course.

Her stomach began to rumble insistently as midday faded to night, her muscles aching from her confined space. Against all outs, Lina found herself nearly falling asleep out of sheer inactivity by the time she felt the chain holding her aloft loosen, and the cage drop slightly before being slowly lowered. Two crewmates down below were bringing her down. She could only hope that her penance had been served, rather than... well, who knew what. Maybe the captain had been using this time to debate whether or not to throw her overboard. That would suck. Thank Elune for feather fall, right?

“Now ya be knowin’ da true malice and terrible evil of the dread captain Zera Seashadow,” came the familiar, accented snarl of the ship’s leader -- the tall troll waiting in a dramatic pose for Lina when her descent had finished and her cage, unexpectedly, had opened. “And dat malice ya’ll remembah forevah. Ya sail wit’ da Skywraith now.”

True malice? Terrible evil? Last Lina checked, all of her body parts remained intact. What kind of crew was this? “Does, um... does that include food?”

Zera blinked, her mock-fearsome expression breaking for a moment from sheer shock at the audacity at such a question. Glancing aside to the other members of the crew who’d winched the cage back down, the one-eyed troll woman looked back to Lina. “Emm... yea, I guess it does.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Life as a slave aboard the Skywraith, it seemed, was almost no different from life as an actual crewmember. Sort of, anyway. It meant getting food and having a place to sleep, and it meant doing what you were told, but it meant the things you were told to do were a little less pleasant. Still, Lina had a surprising amount of freedom onboard the airship... even if most of that freedom was spent below deck, delivering grog, rum, or beer to the crewmates who were taking their breaks or meals there.

“Still dunno what she is, but she’s cute.”

“I’unno, she looks a bit young.”

“Ahh, she’s old enough. I think.”

“Ey! You, redhead! Grog, over here!”

So much for being the only mage on board. More like the only... glorified waitress. The outfit she’d been given for the task didn’t make things much better -- stripped away were the simple, light blue robes she’d been wearing when she was captured, replaced with a tiny, off-white dress. The lower hem of it barely reached the middle of her soft, pale thighs, prompting regular gropes at the young mage’s perky, squishable butt as she would walk past. The chestline, if it was possible, was even more scandalous as it dove down all the way to Lina’s waist, leaving a long strip of bare flesh just between the half-breed’s barely-developing breasts.

She made her way as fluidly as she could throw the long dining-halls of the Skywraith’s bowels, dodging empty cups and shifting elbows as she went along, her short stature ensuring that she was always a target for an accidental concussion. Grog. Far end of the table. It seemed so far away.

A splash of the odd, specifically nautical brew sloshed around as Lina felt a sharp, playful swat at her backside, flinching and trying to move faster. “Oy! Redhead! Imagine what a shame if you were deaf in both those great big ears! I said grog, now!” Redhead, that was what most of them called her; unwilling to learn her name and unable to simply define her by her race. Even for the few smarter pirates who’d managed to piece it together, “Oy! Half-goblin/half-night elf!” just really didn’t have the same ring to it.

Lina paused briefly behind that one other troll -- the soft-spoken one with the pink hair that she’d seen when she’d ended up on the ship -- before hustling forward. So far, she’d been the one of the only crewmates to not actively grope and prod at Lina when she made her rounds, though she had yet to discover the troll girl’s name. She would, eventually, but she hadn’t been noticed and still needed to get this grog to the other end of the table.

“Was this yours...?” she murmured, reaching up to hoist the heavy mug up, where it was snatched away by the blonde human woman who’d called for it.

“That’s mine! Good girl,” she grinned. She was pretty in a hardened way, sporting a number of scars and a more robust physique, athletic yet curvy and with an outfit that did a good job to accentuate that, various furs and loose cloths that showed off her abs and the rich cleavage of her full chest. “Now why don’t you sit down here in Vayna’s lap while I drink it,” she growled, grinning and patting one thick, bare thigh.

“As much as I’d love to, I think I just heard someone at the other end of the mess hall ask for rum, so I-- eek!” as she attempted to pull away, Lina was grabbed around her slim waist and pulled onto the human’s lap, but not on her thigh the way she’d suggested -- she was propped instead directly between the statuesque pirate’s legs, her soft, tight butt pressed firm against Vayna’s lap.

“You’re the slave here, orc-mutt,” Vayna purred lowly, grinning as she bit gently onto one of Lina’s long ears. Close on the race guess, but not quite. She’d figured out the mutt part, at least. “And I’m the pirate. You sit in my lap when I say you sit.” Keeping one arm firmly around Lina’s waist and the other hand on her mug of grog, the scarred blonde took a long gulp of her drink, grinding her hips upwards a little against Lina’s small, squirming figure, specifically against the pert globes of her teen backside... but....

Lina’s eyes widened into huge violet orbs when she felt that thing thrust against her butt, the throbbing silhouette of something big and hard, straining against the tight, pliable leather of Vayna’s weathered battle-panties. Squished between her buttcheeks and grinding through the paper-thin fabric of Lina’s slave-dress, there was no doubting what it was. How it got on a human woman brought up plenty of other questions, but one thing was certain -- nestled firmly against the half-goblin’s ass was a huge, warm girlcock.

Suddenly, hanging from the mast of the Skywraith didn’t seem all that intimidating. Lina had a different “full mast” to worry about now.