"Pleasure doing business with you," the taller pirate answered Tali'drol, more interested in gold than in the squirming Night Elf girl that the troll half-dragged over to that nearby table. While the pair of slavers followed them both with the occasional glance in the interest of keeping track of their 'investment,' they were mostly content to drink and let the troll have the fun he'd paid for.<br/><br/>Fear and shame veiled Naeara's eyes as she was manhandled into the chair with only the tatters of her robe preserving what little remained of her modesty. She shivered as Tali'drol spoke; and when she didn't move right away, and he unlimbered his cock from his trousers, a strangled whimper crawling from the girl's throat. But her gaze lingered on the thick shaft, and as its heady aroma reached her she found herself inhaling deeply, intoxicated. "I... please," she begged, wringing her still-bound hands together, increasingly captive to the foreign, shameful desires overwhelming her upbringing, her virtue, her innocence. By the time he stepped closer she was lost, a thin line of drool sliding from one corner of her mouth as his cock filled her vision, and she murmured a halting, "I... I need it. Please."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>