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Precious Cargo - ch.1

Author's Note: So after going through a bit of a "commission tango" of people cancelling and resuming their orders like a kind of rotary musical chairs, I've started working on the 8th (!) chapter of Love and Sin, though it's going rather slowly due to me being in a little bit of a creative funk (and having just started replaying the first Baldur's Gate). Fortunately, lags like that are why we have various other content on the back-burner to upload.

This story was an old Master's Journey for someone who is no longer a patron here. It went for a few installments before ending, but seeing as it takes place in an original universe of mine -- Starlight and Lace's "Southworld" -- I've taken a bit of an interest in it and decided to brush it up. Will I give it another chapter and see where the intrigue of the first chapter leads? Quite possibly. I have too many ideas for it to drop it entirely.

Anyway, this chapter is primarily story and world-oriented, with only a bit of smut for those who are just out to fap. To fully understand the world and the recent events that have taken place there, I strongly suggest you read Starlight and Lace first, which in my opinion is a pretty good read and definitely worth your time if you haven't already checked it out. This has all been edited to read like a story instead of a CYOA, similar to the remastering treatment of Fuck Yeah Space, along with a boatload of editing help and tips from Darknest's Hoghog15.

With all that said, here we go!

[story] [trap solo] [anal masturbation] [edging]

_______________________

I nestle down a little into my cushion on the floor,‭ ‬flipping the page of my book to the side to reveal the next scene.‭ ‬While many other cultures had abandoned something as childish as the pop-up book long ago,‭ ‬we Vay had turned it into an art form:‭ ‬increasing the complexity and delicacy of the scenes they displayed,‭ ‬and eschewing text altogether for an entirely visual,‭ ‬three-dimensional,‭ ‬and portable experience known as daha stories.‭ ‬Certainly,‭ ‬they did see the most use by children and juveniles,‭ ‬the latter distinction I've only just barely escaped myself.

Nonetheless,‭ ‬it’s not a hobby I’ve ever felt pressured to abandon.‭ ‬Not looking away from the new scene that’s unfolded before me‭ ‬--‭ ‬a depiction of a young female Vay dragoon battling against a majestic and betentacled monster with her lance‭ ‬--‭ ‬I reach down and to my side,‭ ‬taking up the small silver skewer that comprises the majority of utensils in Endwood,‭ ‬spearing a little piece of food from the bowl sitting beside me.‭ ‬Leaning my lean,‭ ‬slight figure down and a little to the side,‭ ‬I open my mouth and stuff the‭ ‬little morsel inside.‭ ‬I immediately squeak with enjoyment as I chew into the light,‭ ‬fried cube of cheese,‭ ‬flipping the next page of my daha book.

‭“‬Are you ready to head out,‭ ‬young master L’a‭?”

I blink my big,‭ ‬sapphire-blue eyes,‭ ‬leaving the book open and quickly spearing another bite of food into my mouth before turning to face the source of the voice.‭ ‬A Vay man,‭ ‬one I’ve only seen a scarce few times in the past‭ ‬--‭ ‬I know he worked with my sister,‭ ‬and was assigned to‭ ‬my vanguard regarding the journey ahead.‭ ‬His name was...‭ ‬Jahk,‭ ‬or,‭ ‬Jahn,‭ ‬or...‭ ‬yes,‭ ‬that was it.‭ ‬Jahn.‭ ‬Dragoon-turned-private-enforcer,‭ ‬big for a Vay.

‭“‬Can I finish the story,‭ ‬please‭?” ‬I murmur up at him,‭ ‬deciding to ignore,‭ ‬for now,‭ ‬the man’s insistence on calling me‭ ‘‬master‭’ ‬rather than something nice,‭ ‬like‭ ‘‬lady.‭’ ‬I’ll let it slide for now,‭ ‬hopefully I won’t be with him for long.

‭“‬I’m afraid not.‭ ‬The helinauts that were sent out as a decoy have already set sail‭ ‬--‭ ‬we need to get you on the caravan heading to Al’Karok within the hour,‭ ‬and that means you’ll need to get dressed.‭” ‬He pauses,‭ ‬eyeing me up and down in a way that is hard to entirely figure out.‭ “‬Properly dressed.‭” ‬It could be judgment.‭ ‬It could be lust.‭ ‬I see both frequently enough that I'd think I could easily tell them apart,‭ ‬but still it eludes me.

I let out a little huff,‭ ‬carefully folding the book shut and getting up off of my little cushion.‭ “‬Fine...‭” ‬I sulk quietly,‭ ‬making my way towards the little alcove at the far corner of my room,‭ ‬a sort of walk-in closet that I‭ hastily enter.‭ “‬No peeking,‭ ‬okay‭? ‬Pervert...‭” ‬I grumble the last word under my breath,‭ ‬snapping the closet doors shut behind me and pressing my hand against a spongy,‭ ‬organic patch of wall at the entrance.‭ ‬It gives way and then clicks,‭ ‬activating a sequence of soft,‭ ‬phosphorescent lights that spread and glitter across the enclosed space,‭ ‬bathing me in a cool bluish glow.

Taking one more quick glance behind me,‭ ‬I wiggle my way out of my loose silk pants and the panties underneath,‭ ‬then tossing away my light,‭ ‬airy half-shirt along with them.‭ ‬My entire waifishly delicate,‭ ‬milky-skinned body now exposed,‭ ‬I sift through clothing,‭ ‬looking for something just defiant enough,‭ ‬something adorable yet classy.

Sorting through my clothes,‭ ‬I pick out a simple,‭ ‬creamy lilac minidress,‭ ‬pressed snugly around my completely flat chest,‭ ‬the bottom of it hugging to my cutely round,‭ ‬slim hips.‭ ‬Skimpy,‭ ‬but not‭ ‬too much so,‭ ‬the warm,‭ ‬pale fabric gives way to an open oval-shape around the stomach,‭ ‬showing off my narrow,‭ ‬streamlined torso,‭ ‬navel,‭ ‬and the delicate chain piercing that dangles from it.‭ ‬My thighs and legs,‭ ‬as well,‭ ‬are left quite exposed,‭ ‬the latter somewhat made more modest by my pair of fitting,‭ ‬violet lace stockings...‭ ‬but the wrong sitting position would become quite a lewd affair in record time.

Lacing up a pair of soft,‭ ‬black leather sandals,‭ ‬I quickly brush ‭the snarls out of ‬my straight,‭ ‬shoulder-length hair‭ ‬--‭ ‬also a pale lavender color,‭ ‬complementing the dress‭ ‬--‭ ‬and slip a dark purple hairband into it.

I brush myself off,‭ ‬looking towards the long,‭ ‬thin mirror at the edge of the closet and‭ ‬doing a little pose for it,‭ ‬grinning widely at myself.‭ ‬Skipping back out into the more spacious area of my bedroom,‭ ‬I nod to Jahn,‭ ‬who is packing a few of my things‭ (‬along with some provisions) ‬into a small,‭ ‬mauve backpack.‭ “‬Took you long enough,‭” ‬the ex-dragoon grunts,‭ ‬tossing the light bag towards me.‭ ‬I manage to catch it with a soft‭ “‬ooph,‭” ‬stumbling backwards briefly before swinging it over my shoulder.‭ “‬You finally ready‭?”

“Ouh,‭” ‬I murmur softly in my native tongue,‭ ‬the equivalent of a softer,‭ ‬more feminine‭ ‘‬yes.‭’ ‬The trip ahead is actually one I’ve been pensively excited for‭ ‬--‭ ‬a trip by guarded caravan on a pilgrimage to one of the Dragon Shrines at the northern tip of Endwood,‭ ‬closest to the World Sea.‭ ‬The whole thing is being paid for and arranged by my older sister,‭ ‬who,‭ ‬for the most part,‭ ‬takes care of me.‭ ‬While I can’t be entirely sure whether she’s genuinely interested in letting me‭ make the journey ‬to the landmark that I’ve wanted ever since I was a little girl,‭ ‬or she just wants me out of her hair for a couple of weeks,‭ ‬it’s nonetheless a thrilling prospect.

“‬Good.‭ ‬Let’s get out of here.‭ ‬With the war still going on we don’t want to let the helinaut escorts get too far ahead of us.‭”

I nod,‭ ‬and follow behind the tall,‭ ‬armored Vay as Jahn descends the staircase down into the main‭ atrium ‬of my sister’s sizable manor,‭ ‬L’a Estate.‭ ‬Leaving the tower-like,‭ ‬organic structure entirely,‭ ‬he leads me towards the small,‭ ‬sleek caravan where I’ll be riding.‭ “‬Jahn‭?” ‬I murmur softly up at the guard as he starts opening the side doors for me to enter the automated,‭ ‬squat-legged vehicle.‭ “‬How come you never tell me anything about the war‭?”

“If I wanted to talk about it I’d still be in it,‭ ‬Auralie,‭” ‬Jahn grunts in my direction,‭ ‬then ushers me forward.‭ ‬A few more guards and private security pull up on their own mounts‭ ‬--‭ ‬sleek,‭ ‬leggy,‭ ‬sure-footed reptiles known as draganna‭ ‬--‭ ‬nodding to Jahn as I slide into the cozy,‭ ‬cushioned interior of the caravan.‭ ‬The door clicks shut behind me and I sigh softly,‭ ‬unslinging my pack from around my shoulder and opening it,‭ ‬fishing for my daha book.

As I open the pages again,‭ ‬trying to find my old place,‭ ‬I feel the caravan grind to life and start moving forward,‭ ‬its excessive number of stout,‭ ‬sticky,‭ ‬steam-powered legs allowing it to easily crawl and move along the cluttered,‭ ‬forested paths that constitute Vay highways.‭ ‬The way vegetation grew in this place,‭ ‬enough that most homes were composed of fungal or wood fibers,‭ ‬no amount of traffic was able to truly keep it down.‭ ‬Not that there wasn’t some strategic benefit to that‭ ‬--‭ ‬typically,‭ ‬only Vay were able to competently traverse Endwood’s landscapes,‭ ‬making them exceedingly difficult to invade by land.

I let my mind drift away as I snack idly from a bag of chana nuts,‭ ‬slowly turning the pages of my storybook,‭ ‬the paper scenes flickering to life with each flip and showing a new chapter in the long story.‭ ‬A story of a strong,‭ ‬yet beautiful princess who learns to fight from a blind,‭ ‬grizzled old dragoon,‭ ‬meets the love of her life,‭ ‬and saves Endwood from an encroaching darkness.‭ ‬A story I’ve re-read time and again,‭ ‬imagining myself as the princess each and every time,‭ ‬no matter how much Jahn,‭ ‬my sister,‭ ‬and everyone else tells me that I shouldn’t.‭ ‬My mind wanders,‭ ‬and the clunky rhythm of the caravan starts to become more and more soothing,‭ ‬the sounds of squashing vegetation and hissing steam blurring out the sounds of chatter from the guards outside.

But,‭ ‬as the hours drift away,‭ ‬I find that a single storybook will not keep me all that entertained for a journey promising to take several full days of travel.‭ ‬I huff a dissatisfied breath out of my nose,‭ ‬rolling onto my stomach on the cushioned interior of the caravan,‭ ‬eyes open and gazing up at the wood-and-glass roof.‭ ‬I watch the darkness of snow-smattered trees rush past me for some time,‭ ‬hoping it might put me to sleep,‭ ‬or at least into some form of trance.

It does not,‭ ‬and boredom swiftly descends,‭ ‬rapidly reaching a point where it can no longer be ignored. My restlessness demanding that it be addressed, a playful idea enters my mind.‭ ‬I hold still and silent for a moment,‭ ‬listening to what’s going on outside.‭ ‬The sound of my carriage crunching over moss and vines,‭ ‬along with the sound of the vehicle itself,‭ ‬provide most of what I can hear,‭ ‬but there are a scarce few other sounds.‭ ‬Birds,‭ ‬perhaps,‭ ‬and the idle chatter of the guards escorting me to the Dragon Shrine.‭ ‬They’re preoccupied.‭ ‬Good.

I sit up a little more,‭ ‬cross-legged on the flat,‭ ‬cushioned interior of my carriage,‭ ‬and reach for my bag‭ again. ‬Sliding the daha back inside,‭ ‬I reach a little deeper into it,‭ ‬feeling around for the hidden pocket I myself stitched into the backpack’s lining.‭ ‬Inside I find my little secret,‭ ‬and bite my lip with anticipation as I draw it out of its case.‭ ‬Streamlined,‭ ‬slightly curved,‭ ‬and pale blue in color,‭ ‬this little toy has brought me through quite a number of lonely nights and feisty days alike,‭ ‬and since it seems like I’ll have plenty of time to enjoy it,‭ ‬it may be time for it to make a comeback.

Scooting back against the rear wall of the carriage,‭ ‬I chew idly at the inside of my cheek,‭ ‬already caressing one small hand up along the front of my tiny dress,‭ ‬pawing at my completely flat chest as my playful mood gets more and more insistent.‭ ‬Setting the toy down for just a moment,‭ ‬I spread my legs a little and pull my panties aside‭ ‬--‭ ‬not removing them,‭ ‬simply displacing them just enough to expose my pale,‭ ‬delicate back entrance.

‭“‬Nnnn...‭” ‬I coo lightly through pursed lips,‭ ‬toes curling a little into the cushions as I reach back for the toy,‭ ‬pressing the smooth,‭ ‬rounded tip of it against my back entrance.‭ ‬My slim,‭ ‬feminine dick remains hidden beneath my panties,‭ ‬but rapidly starts to grow stiffer as I tease my backside,‭ ‬making a cutely petite outline against the soft white fabric of my panties.‭ “‬O-oh fuck,‭” ‬I whimper quietly,‭ ‬squeezing my eyes shut for a moment as I start pressing the toy forward a little more insistently,‭ ‬my anal ring finally giving way after a long moment and the tip sinking inside of me.

Its texture is firm but a little pliable,‭ ‬rigid without being unforgiving‭ ‬--‭ ‬my mind flickers back,‭ ‬briefly,‭ ‬to a memory:‭ ‬One of me stealing the toy from my sister’s secret drawer,‭ ‬the one she didn’t know I knew about.‭ ‬Hearing her stomp around the manor for the next few weeks had me in gigglefits so strong I could barely suppress them,‭ ‬but the whole thing had been worth it the first time I’d used the toy on myself.‭ ‬It had been‭ ‬amazing,‭ ‬the sensation of getting penetrated,‭ ‬that fullness and that feeling of submission,‭ ‬even if it was to my own hand.‭ ‬It symbolized a lot for me,‭ ‬and that moment had been decidedly...‭ ‬developmental in my attitude towards my own expression and identity.‭ ‬Thus,‭ ‬even if I had to keep it hidden,‭ ‬my little plaything was something I wouldn’t give up for the world.

Hitching the bottom of my dress up a little more,‭ ‬my cheeks begin to redden as I tease myself,‭ ‬shallowly rocking the toy against my backside a little more before starting to gradually ease it in deeper,‭ ‬my breath catching in my chest as I force it inside.‭ ‬I can feel the toy’s bulbous tip inside of me,‭ ‬stretching a little,‭ ‬though it doesn’t hurt in the slightest‭ ‬--‭ ‬I’ve had plenty of practice with this specific implement that my body recognizes it,‭ ‬knows it.‭ ‬All I feel is pleasure,‭ ‬the rhythmic rocking and swaying of the caravan soothing me and letting me focus on that pleasure,‭ ‬that deep,‭ ‬swelling feeling inside of me that only grows more intense with each slow,‭ ‬deep pump of the artificial phallus into my tight,‭ ‬girly ass.

I do my best to stifle a moan as I take a firmer grip on the toy,‭ ‬not taking myself too roughly,‭ ‬but certainly not going easy any more either.‭ ‬I'm getting so incredibly stiff,‭ ‬it almost hurts,‭ ‬but just that tiny bit of denial is making me even hornier‭ ‬--‭ ‬neglecting my boy-parts to be even naughtier as you drill my toy into my tight butt,‭ ‬all made and dressed up,‭ ‬the sluttiest little sweetheart with nobody to watch me.

Before long,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬temptation becomes too much for me to bear,‭ ‬and my free hand goes from hungrily pawing and rubbing along my flat,‭ ‬boyish tits,‭ ‬southwards‭ ‬--‭ ‬tugging down the hem of my panties just enough so that the creamy tip of my rigid little member is exposed.‭ ‬I’ve already left a few wet spots on my panties from the precum,‭ ‬which turns me on even more as I start to gradually stroke my little cock,‭ ‬just big enough to get my hand around but achingly hard.

Gentle strokes become faster,‭ ‬now,‭ ‬my breath picking up,‭ ‬body tensing as I rapidly pump my hand across my cock,‭ ‬still sliding that toy in and out of my tight ass.‭ ‬The feeling is exquisite as I try to match my rhythm,‭ ‬biting my lip and feeling that strange pressure swelling up in my lower abdomen,‭ ‬that sensation that I'm about to blow,‭ ‬that I can’t take much more...‭ ‬and that when I do explode,‭ ‬it will be a truly scandalous thing.‭ ‬I might even ruin my new dress,‭ ‬and without my sister to buy me a new one‭? ‬Why,‭ ‬I'd just have to keep wearing it.‭ ‬Imagine how...‭ ‬how naughty,‭ ‬that would be....

‭“‬NNnahh...‭~” ‬I whine out,‭ ‬gritting my teeth in a last-minute attempt to muffle the sound,‭ ‬stroking faster and faster.‭ ‬My cock starts to throb harder and faster,‭ ‬and I can feel the muscles of my anus contracting hard around the slender toy that’s so ruthlessly abusing it,‭ ‬filling me up,‭ ‬making me want to squeal.‭ ‬My eyes open wide as I feel that burst coming any second,‭ ‬and--

‭“‬Hold there‭! ‬What are you doing on this route‭?” ‬Jahn’s voice,‭ ‬muffled by the walls of the carriage.‭ ‬The sound’s coming from outside,‭ ‬and I freeze in place,‭ ‬biting down on my lower lip,‭ ‬hand squeezing around my girly little cock to try to keep myself from cumming.‭ ‬I feel my dick swell and surge,‭ ‬trying to unload the climax I’ve coaxed out of it,‭ ‬but I do my best to prevent it anyway‭ ‬--‭ ‬now tightly squeezing my thighs shut around it,‭ ‬the toy still buried in my narrow back hole.

‭“‬That should be obvious,‭ ‬wouldn’t you say,‭ ‬dragoon‭?” ‬the other voice is feminine and most assuredly ‬not Vay.‭ ‬It’s also audibly hostile.‭ “‬You have cargo that now belongs to the Iron Academy.‭”

There’s a moment of tense silence,‭ ‬and I wince as I try to hold my climax back.‭ ‬One tiny jet of cum finally shoots out of me against your will,‭ ‬lacing itself shamefully across my face,‭ ‬but I still need to hold on tight to prevent any more from unleashing itself.‭ ‬I hear Jahn’s voice again,‭ ‬a strange combination of bravado and fear in his tone.

‭“‬I think you know better than to tamper with L’a family affairs.‭ ‬Our benefactor will stop at nothing to retrieve our...‭ ‬cargo,‭” ‬he says.‭ ‬I can hear the other dragoons moving around,‭ ‬a few swords drawing.‭ ‬There’s a click of pistols,‭ ‬as well.

Then the woman’s voice again,‭ ‬her voice bearing a thick island accent.‭ ‬Not Estyan...‭ ‬something else.‭ “‬I’m counting on it,‭ ‬fucker.‭ ‬Now give your dragoons the opportunity to run.‭ ‬I don’t suggest fighting.‭”

Before Jahn says anything I hear the sound of one,‭ ‬maybe two,‭ ‬of the other dragoons turning and making a break for it,‭ ‬back into the forest,‭ ‬back south.‭ “‬Stand your ground,‭ ‬men‭!” ‬I hear Jahn say.‭ ‬There’s more movement,‭ ‬more positioning,‭ ‬the readying of weapons.

‭“‬Very well.‭ ‬If you won’t give him to us,‭ ‬we’ll take him.‭”

The ensuing fight doesn’t seem to last at all as long as I imagine battles should.‭ ‬It isn’t the wide-scale,‭ ‬epic affair that I’ve read about in dahas or heard from bards.‭ ‬It’s short,‭ ‬and there’s a lot of screaming.‭ ‬There’s silence for a long moment then,‭ ‬and I find myself trembling,‭ ‬pressed against the back of the carriage,‭ ‬my thighs clenched tightly together and the hem of my little dress barely covering my throbbing cock,‭ ‬now as stiff from fear as it is from lust.

The silence continues for a long while,‭ ‬and my frail little body trembles,‭ ‬eyes clenched shut.‭ ‬Finally I hear that voice again,‭ ‬the woman’s.‭ “‬Well,‭ ‬that was easier than I expected.‭ ‬Can one of you fetch me a pair of clean gloves‭?” ‬There’s a murmured response,‭ ‬then a resolved sigh.‭ “‬Well,‭ ‬I guess it’s time to see what we’ve won....‭”

There’s a creak,‭ ‬and the door to the caravan opens.‭ ‬The woman who won the battle‭ ‬--‭ ‬who now owns me‭ ‬--‭ ‬is Nathenet as far as I can tell.‭ ‬Diluted perhaps with some other blood,‭ ‬but I can definitely tell from her pale blonde dreadlocks,‭ ‬smooth reddish skin,‭ ‬and longish arms that she’s more Nathenet than anything else.‭ ‬A number of scars decorate her face and upper arms,‭ ‬and her left eye is concealed by a swatch of black cloth.‭ ‬From her makeshift array of skimpy robes of segments of leather armor,‭ ‬I have difficulty telling whether she’s a mercenary,‭ ‬assassin,‭ ‬or some kind of monk.‭ ‬Regardless,‭ ‬I have more pressing concerns at the moment.

‭“‬Well,‭ ‬look at what we have here,‭” ‬she coos,‭ ‬her dour,‭ ‬blood-splattered expression lightening when she sees my waifish form cowering in the corner.‭ “‬I thought we were coming for a boy,‭ ‬not a girl...‭ ‬although,‭ ‬judging from that tent in your dress,‭ ‬it looks like I might be wrong about that,‭ ‬too.‭” ‬She grins widely,‭ ‬taking on a more relaxed posture with one arm leaning against the inner buck of the door.‭ “‬Already have something in your ass,‭ ‬too.‭ ‬Keep that enthusiasm,‭ ‬sweetheart,‭ ‬you’ll need it.‭”

“W-who...‭ ‬who are...‭?” ‬I stammer,‭ ‬wincing,‭ ‬still trying to stretch the fabric of my dress out to cover my activities prior to the attack.

‭“‬Who am I‭? ‬Nobody to fuck with.‭ ‬I’m also the person who owns you now,‭ ‬for the time being at least.‭ ‬For the sake of cordiality,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬you can call me Ziah.‭” ‬She pauses,‭ ‬accepting a pair of clean,‭ ‬fingerless white gloves from one of the shock platoon of Nathenet soldiers that are with her.‭ ‬Slipping them on casually,‭ ‬she turns her attention back to me.‭ “‬And,‭ ‬if my information’s right,‭ ‬that makes you Auralie L’a.‭ ‬You have a very important family,‭ ‬cutie.‭ ‬Shame they got you into this mess.‭”

I shiver a little,‭ ‬curling up in the corner.‭ ‬I’ve never felt so scared in my life,‭ ‬and now,‭ ‬what the future holds is nothing but a terrifying mystery.‭ ‬I feel powerless,‭ ‬I feel vulnerable,‭ ‬and I'm lacking the information necessary to make any kind of competent play in this situation...‭ ‬but nonetheless,‭ ‬I need to decide how I'm going to deal with this situation.

I'm barely given a chance to pull my panties up and hide my toy back in my bag before I'm seized by a small contingent of Nathenet mercenaries.‭ ‬Squirming and whimpering weakly as I'm taken,‭ ‬they drag me from the comfort of my carriage and out into the rolling,‭ ‬starlit glades of Endwood.‭ ‬The thin,‭ ‬pale light from beyond the dense canopy of bluish,‭ ‬deciduous leaves kisses my exposed body,‭ ‬making my Vay skin naturally gleam beneath the cool,‭ ‬gentle rays.

‭“‬Wh-what are...‭ ‬what are you doing with...‭ ‬where are we going‭?” ‬I stammer out shyly,‭ ‬trying to stumble to my feet as I'm rushed along,‭ ‬managing to almost sprint on my tip-toes as the‭ ‬mercs‭ ‬drag me along behind them.‭ ‬I turn my soft blue eyes back to Ziah,‭ ‬the woman who seemed to be in charge,‭ ‬silently pleading to her for some sort of an answer.

‭“‬We’re taking you to the fella who hired us,‭” ‬Ziah grunts,‭ ‬following along slightly behind and wiping off one of her large,‭ ‬heavily-modified pistols with a clean white cloth.‭ “‬And I think it’s pretty obvious why we can’t leave you in the same carriage that brought you this far.‭”

“I-it is‭?” ‬I stammer,‭ ‬turning my gaze from the mercenary woman to my eventual destination‭ ‬--‭ ‬another carriage,‭ ‬though distinctly dissimilar to the one that brought me here.‭ ‬This one is far,‭ ‬far larger,‭ ‬hooded by a shadowy cloth covering and quietly humming about two feet off of the ground.‭ ‬A hovercraft‭? ‬My mind skims through old dahas I’ve read and stories I’ve heard,‭ ‬considering all I know of the Nathenet people,‭ ‬which is quite little.‭ ‬I remember stories of them being brash,‭ ‬wayfaring warriors of the sea and skies,‭ ‬only out of their element on solid ground.‭ ‬In that light,‭ ‬it rather makes sense that they’d bring a seafaring hovercraft to handle the rough terrain of Endwood.

“‬Considering that your caravan probably has some kind of fractal beacon tracking it,‭ ‬and can be easily recognized by anyone familiar with the L’a family‭? ‬I’d say so.‭ ‬The insignia on the side kinda gives it away.‭”

I pause,‭ ‬looking back,‭ ‬remembering the symbol painted on the side of your carriage.‭ ‬Letting out a defeated little sigh through my nostrils,‭ ‬I turn back to the vehicle ahead of me.‭ “‬Um...‭ ‬right,‭” ‬I finally say,‭ ‬almost under my breath.‭ “‬B-but,‭ ‬wait,‭ ‬what about,‭ ‬um...‭” ‬I'm stalling,‭ ‬scrambling for something to say,‭ ‬something to ask,‭ ‬coming up with nothing.‭ ‬I'm not even completely sure what I'm buying time for‭ ‬--‭ ‬my entire escort has either fled or been killed by these mercenaries.‭ ‬Nobody’s coming to save me,‭ ‬certainly not in the next few minutes.

‭“‬But um what‭?” ‬Ziah scoffs,‭ ‬then gestures back to the hovercraft.‭ “‬Load him on.‭ ‬Or is it‭ ‬her‭? ‬You’re really gonna have to fill me in on all that once we get moving.‭ ‬I’m genuinely curious.‭” ‬Stowing the cloth and holstering her gun,‭ ‬the mercenary hops onto the opened back side of the hovercraft,‭ ‬moving towards the front while the grunts beneath her load me on behind,‭ ‬then crawl in and seal the flap behind them.

The inside of the hovercraft starts to feel incredibly claustrophobic,‭ ‬or perhaps agoraphobic,‭ ‬or a strange blend of both.‭ ‬While the vehicle is large and spacious,‭ ‬constructed mostly of wood and some strange rubber derivatives,‭ ‬its inhabitants are quite large‭ ‬--‭ ‬even Ziah,‭ ‬the only woman I see on board,‭ ‬looks to be over six feet in height.‭ ‬Quite the contrast from my slight,‭ ‬short,‭ ‬slender physique.

What it most assuredly is‭ ‬not,‭ ‬is as comfortable as the carriage that had been bringing me on my pilgrimage to the Dragon Shrines‭ (‬which,‭ ‬against all sense of priority,‭ ‬I’d still really like to visit‭)‬.‭ ‬Cushions are replaced with a hard leather seat,‭ ‬to which I'm strapped in place and my hands bound with strap of cloth,‭ ‬not too rough on my delicate skin,‭ ‬but with no give whatsoever.‭ ‬The entire process of seating me and binding me in place takes barely a minute‭ ‬--‭ ‬clearly the process is a well-practiced procedure for these mercenaries.

I sigh as they begin to take seats of their own,‭ ‬a few hopping back outside to keep watch and escort the vehicle,‭ ‬and it begins to move.‭ ‬Gone is the rocking,‭ lurching‬,‭ ‬crawling motion of my old Vay carriage,‭ ‬though‭; ‬this thing moves smoothly,‭ ‬gliding across the rough,‭ ‬mossy pathways of Endwood in another direction that the one I'd been going in.

There’s quiet for a long time then‭ ‬--‭ ‬well,‭ ‬sort of.‭ ‬I sit still and listen to the other Nathenet chatter amongst each other in a language I don’t understand,‭ ‬while Ziah sits towards the front of the vehicle,‭ ‬keeping an eye on the crude readout of its trajectory while she writes out some sort of letter.‭ ‬It takes around twenty minutes before my heartbeat slows down enough that I work up the courage to speak again.

‭“‬ZeE--‭ ‬Ziah‭?” ‬I call out,‭ ‬my voice cracking from unease,‭ ‬though I get it right the second time.

‭“‬Busy.‭” ‬The woman states firmly,‭ ‬not looking up from her writing.

‭“‬What...‭ ‬um,‭ ‬what happens if I have to pee‭?”

The woman exhales through her nostrils,‭ ‬looking up at me through her one good eye,‭ ‬a clear,‭ ‬glassy violet color.‭ “‬Fuck,‭” ‬she whispers under her breath before speaking up.‭ “‬You don’t have to pee,‭ ‬do you‭?”

“N-not really,‭” ‬I murmur.‭ “‬I just wanted to know.‭ ‬Because I did have a lot of tea earlier,‭ ‬and I don’t know how far we’re going,‭ ‬a-and--‭”

“You’ll pee when I say you pee,‭ ‬alright‭?” ‬Ziah grunts.‭ “‬There’s a neutral outpost near the edge of Endwood where we should be able to take a pitstop.‭”

I chew my lip quietly,‭ ‬squirming a little in my place before settling down again.‭ ‬I did get some information out of her,‭ ‬even if it means that the other Iron Academy mercs are giving me dirty looks now.‭ ‬The only‭ “‬neutral outpost‭” ‬within Endwood I can think of is Flatgrove,‭ ‬near the eastern edge of the territory.‭ ‬It may not be information I have any means of using,‭ ‬but it does give me something of a feeling of peace.‭ ‬I know where I'm going.‭ ‬That’s...‭ ‬something.

As the murmuring of the Nathenet resumes,‭ ‬I glance back in their direction.‭ ‬Their voices are more hushed now,‭ ‬and I start to reevaluate the looks they were giving‭ ‬--‭ ‬are still giving‭ ‬--‭ ‬me.‭ ‬No,‭ ‬not dirty looks at all.‭ ‬Hungry looks.

My eyes flicker from man to man,‭ ‬all of them imposingly large and all of them looking at me from their seats,‭ ‬their weapons beside them.‭ ‬One moves a large,‭ ‬dusky red hand over the front of his trousers,‭ ‬grinding his palm across his own crotch,‭ ‬his eyes fixated on me and causing me to shyly cross my legs,‭ ‬which...‭ ‬after a moment,‭ ‬I'm not certain was a great idea.‭ ‬It seems to rile them up even more.

Their grumbles rise into chatter once again,‭ ‬and I desperately wish I could understand them,‭ ‬though from what I can hear none of them speak a word of Vaya besides Ziah.‭ ‬They’re getting visibly riled up though,‭ ‬finally enough that Ziah lets out an exasperated sigh through her nose and turns from her note to look at the men.‭ “‬If you want to fuck him,‭ ‬fuck him‭! ‬Just shut up about it and let me finish this,‭ ‬alright‭? ‬We need him alive and intact,‭ ‬nobody ever said unspoiled.‭ ‬So spoil away.‭” ‬She pauses,‭ ‬glancing back to her note,‭ ‬then back up to me.‭ “‬Sorry kid.‭ ‬Erm...‭ ‬have fun.‭”

My eyes widen as the Nathenet mercs start to unstrap themselves from their seats‭ ‬--‭ ‬a few of them anyway.‭ ‬Three now standing,‭ ‬a fourth looking restlessly conflicted about the entire thing.‭ ‬One of them takes a step towards me,‭ ‬the one who’d been‭ “‬brandishing‭” ‬himself at me moments ago,‭ ‬his heavy boot thundering against the wood floor of the hovercraft as he starts teasing at the buckles of his gun-belt,‭ ‬eyes fixated on my girlishly slim,‭ ‬squirming figure.‭ “‬Vay,‭ ‬girl,‭” ‬he grunts in a very thick accent.‭ “‬Err...‭ ‬Vay...‭ ‬toaster.‭ ‬Vay boy.‭ ‬Yayeyayeya.‭ ‬Use mouth on...‭” ‬his eyes go unfocused as he thinks of the word,‭ ‬not finding it.‭ ‬He settles for cupping his hand back over his dick,‭ ‬which I can see swelling against the rough leather of his pants.‭ “‬Using mouth.‭ ‬Or take behind.‭”

I swallow hard,‭ ‬gaze flicking from him,‭ ‬to the two flanking him.‭ ‬My throat goes dry and I don’t have many options at hand.‭ ‬What in Southworld am I going to do?


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