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Chapter Text

Link woke up to the sound of hurried footsteps on the deck above, and shards of light pouring down from the hatches leading there. It was already late morning. He stirred in his hammock, having not quite recovered from his late shift the previous night. He shut his eyes and turned his head away. Instants later, he heard the crew cheer. Giving up on sleeping in all together, Link rolled off his bunk and sleepily found his feet. Another cheer for his companions above deck. There was definitely something happening. He lightly smacked his face and rubbed his eyes and found himself moving up the cabin stairs into the sunlight, onto the the ship’s deck.

Link was a young sailor, barely a man yet. He wore dark breeches with a dark green sash that acted almost as a belt. He had a loose-fitting white shirt with the sleeves torn off just beyond the elbow and a necklace made with string and a small spiral shell.

As he emerged on deck, he closed his eyes and let the sun caress his skin and the ocean breeze kiss his face. This gentle moment was abruptly interrupted as Link was shoved nearly off his feet by a fellow sailor.

“Watch where you’re going Sharkbait! Wake up or I’ll shove you overboard next time!” Barked a short, busty Gerudo woman. She was, like Link, a new member of Captain Urbosa’s crew, but unlike the young lad, she seemed to immediately fit in with her colleagues. Perhaps it was because she was a Gerudo. Link was one only two male members of this pirate crew. The other was Caddis Eastaughffe, the ship’s quartermaster. The rest were all women. All pirates.

This was Link’s first voyage, and he wasn’t entirely sure why or how he got hired for this particular crew but he was thankful for the employment.

As he recovered from his first violent interaction of the day, Link resumed his quest to find out what the commotion on deck was about and if it did indeed merit cutting into his sleep hours. A wall of onlookers kept him from getting a good look at the event taking place on the ship’s floor, just beside the foremast, at the front end of the vessel. Knowing he would never get a good look from here and the brash pirates were just as likely to punch him than to let him through, Link made his way behind a triplet of barrels and climbed on them. He could get just enough of a glimpse of what was lying there on the ship's deck.

Then Link’s heart sank.

There, under the heat of the late morning sun, on the wooden boards of the Opal Spear, tangled in a dense, thick fishing net was Mipha. Her skin was still wet, glimmering in the late morning sun.

She wore nothing, except for a small satchel attached to a thin shining string tied to her waist.

She hissed and bared her teeth and any and all who tried to approach her or grab the net that imprisoned her.

“Mipha!”

Instantly, Mipha’s eyes were drawn to the course of that sound. Her sharp ears could single out Link’s voice whispering in a thunderstorm.

“No.” Mouthed the Zora as she shook her head frantically, never breaking eye contact with the Hylian. She would not risk exposing her lover like that. Thrashing aggressively as she was, she still had the forethought to not do anything that could complicate things later.

Link had no such caution, however.

The sight of Mipha caught in a fishing net washed over all reason and common sense he had. However, that tide receded almost immediately when, as he leaped from his vantage point, he heard the captain’s voice and froze in place. The wall of onlookers parted and through it walked a woman who’s beauty was matched only by the infamy her name carried.

Urbosa was the captain of the dreaded Opal Spear, the pirate ship that terrorized the Greater Lanayru Sea and the waters surrounding them, though there are sightings reported all over the eastern seas.

"Well, well, well… look what the morning tide dragged in…" Urbosa's voice seemed to squash all other noise around her. "I thought you girls were supposed to catch some lunch!"

The crew joined together in laughter, as Urbosa approached the caught Zora and crouched down in front of her, trying to get a good look at the creature.

"Although... This one looks quite delicious doesn't she?" purred the captain, her eyes suddenly flickering with a spark of lust. "I'll bet she'll fetch a pretty price for a slave…"

Quick as lightning, Mipha reached out and grabbed the captain's cutlass, slashing a hole in the net, and breaking free. As the pirates around her closed in, Mipha began slashing at them, successfully keeping them at bay. Urbosa remained calm and seemed almost amused by this display.

"AAARG!" cried a Gerudo sailor who got too close to Mipha and had her hand slashed.

Sensing an opening, Mipha sprang into the air. Flying through the crowd like a red dart, Mipha had cleared the railing and could now see the ocean. Suddenly, she felt a tight grip on one of her ankles. Before she could yelp in pain, she fell, hitting her stomach on the taffrail.

"You're fast… But not fast enough." Said Urbosa, her hands firmly gripped around Mipha's foot and pulled. The Zora grabbed the taffrail and fought with all her might but to no avail. With a smile, Urbosa declared: "Not nearly strong enough either…". With that, the pirate captain yanked with all her might and swung Mipha by the leg, sending her crashing hard into the mast. Still reeling from the blow, Mipha could not register Urbosa darting straight toward her. Suddenly, she felt the captain's hand around her neck and her body slowly being lifted off the floor. Again Urbosa slammed the young Zora against the foremast.

“You just harmed a member of my crew. I cannot let that stand. Maybe I should gut you like the fish you are, from neck to navel. I’m sure we could you in bits as bait!” Urbosa taunted, looking at her. Mipha could only struggle and choke under Urbosa's formidable grip.

"Let her go!"

Urbosa turned to look at who had defied their captain. Her eyes burned with a rage reserved only for insubordination and found Link. They lingered on his face only briefly, however, as something else caught her eye. She noticed a tiny spark of sunlight bouncing off of the boy's necklace. The spiral shell glimmered and Urbosa quickly turned to look at Mipha, still in her grip, wearing the same necklace. She then snatched the satchel from her and held it up against the light.

"My gems…" murmured Urbosa. The sunlight shone through the precious stones in the net satchel. She continued, louder, for the crew to hear: “Oooh I see what’s happening here… You’re colluding with each other! That's where my personal loot has been disappearing to. Oh this is precious, what was your plan? Once you’d thrown enough of my treasure into the ocean, you’d elope?"

Laughter erupted from the deck crew.

"Nhhhhhggg…" straining to use her voice as Urbosa seemed to crush her throat, Mipha tried to speak. "Not… him…ghhhh… I hypnotized him. Zora magic…"

"Is that so?" Urbosa purred, "then why did he speak out when I was about to gut you? He doesn't seem entranced now. Nooo, there’s more to this, you care for each other! Let me show you what happens when you cross me little fish… GRAB HIM!"
Before he could react, two women grabbed Link by the wrists and hair.

"Strap him to the mast girls!" Ordered the captain. "And string her up! I want her to watch!"

The crew began whooping and jeering, cheering on the spectacle that was about to unfold. The three crewmates who has seized Link dragged him to the foremast, the one holding his hair placing him in a chokehold with her other arm. As they slammed him chest first into the mast, where Mipha was still pinned by the neck by Urbosa. She then tossed the water nymph to the side of her, where two pirates were waiting to catch her. Wasting no time, Urbosa reached for the boom and pulled down a rope. As she fashioned what looked like a noose, Mipha struggled with all her strength to break free from the pirate's grip, but to no avail.
Meanwhile, two ropes were tied in loops around each of Link's wrists and pulled tight around the mast so that he was hugging it. He turned his face to look at Mipha and what was being done to her.

With incredible efficiency, Urbosa tied the noose to Mipha's feet, binding them together and began pulling on the rope. Soon she was hoisted several feet off the ground but continued to struggle and thrash, clawing at anyone within range. Urbosa put a stop to this by throwing a punch straight into the Zora's stomach. The young captive swung back from the force of the blow, choking and coughing as the air was knocked out of her. Before she could properly coil in pain, however, the two women who were holding her previously resumed their positions, grabbing Mipha's arms and holding them out straight, to her sides. The young Zora hung upside down in a crucified position.

As Urbosa drew close to her face, Mipha hissed at her. "I do not fear you, land wench!" the rage in Mipha's eyes could burn a forest.

"No, it seems you don't" replied Urbosa, quite matter of factly. "But do you fear for him?". She pointed at Link and immediately, one of the pirates with a cutlass tore at his shirt and ripped it clean off. Mipha's expression of anger melted into one of panic. "I don't think you've been on many Gerudo vessels before so let me educate you. Stealing from a crewmate is a crime. It'll get you thrown in the brig. That's like a little cage if you're not familiar with these terms. But stealing from a captain? Hoooo, I'm afraid an example must be made. Let's see how our young friend here handles a bit of maritime discipline. Bring me the lash!"

This drew fresh cheers from the crowd. One of the women produced a short bullwhip for her captain. Mipha began thrashing and yelling again but the two pirates held her still. Another, without even being ordered, moved up behind the water nymph and grabbed her tail fin, forcing her to look in the direction of Link. With her other hand, she began fondling Mipha, groping her right breast.

"Please," breathed Mipha, "I tricked him into it. I made him do it. Let him go."

"I don't believe you." Replied Urbosa coldly as she stepped behind Link. One of the women had picked his torn shirt from the ground and used it to fashion a gag for his mouth.

THWACK

Without warning or mercy, the whip landed across Link's back. He clenched his fists and grunted through the gag.

THWACK

Right between his broad, lean shoulders.

Before he could get used to the feel of the lash, another blow landed. Pain spread like a wildfire across the young sailor's back.

THWACK

Across the small of his back.

Mipha let out a primal scream. A scream of rage, sorrow, and helplessness. She continued to try and break free as Link's beating continued. On the tenth lash, he screamed into his gag. He turned away from Mipha, he could not stand to look at her being groped while enduring his own ordeal. On the 15th lash, his legs buckled and gave way. He was only held upright thanks to his bound wrists, the coarse rope biting mercilessly into his skin. On the 20th lash, the young Hylian passed out.

This drew one final cheer from the crew, most of which were now gathered on deck, watching.

Mipha's struggles were now reduced to feeble tugging as the water nymph was now sobbing. Urbosa stepped in close to her, inches away from her face.

"Did you enjoy that little fish?" Urbosa asked in a sultry, teasing tone as Mipha looked to the side blinking away her tears. "I hope so. Because I'm not done with you two lovebirds yet."

She then stood up, faced the rest of the crew, and shouted: "SET THEM UP IN THE BRIG! Let's show them what happens when you try to get one over on the dread pirate Urbosa and her crew of rippers!"

To be continued…

Chapter Text

The midday sun fell hard on the deck of the Opal Spear. Link was slowly coming to and coming to terms with his immediate surroundings. The searing pain of the lash washed back over him like a wave, before any of his other senses started registering. Bound by his wrists, hugging the foremast, a thin layer of sweat covered his young body. Along his lithe yet muscular bare back, the sweat mixed with the blood recently drawn from the vicious whipping administered by Captain Urbosa.

He felt the ropes loosen and he fell to his knees, chest still against the mast. Before he had time to move, rough, strong hands were already upon him. One hand held his wrist firmly and the other picked him up by his bicep. This was mirrored on his left side, and two Gerudo members of the crew dragged him before a fearsome and imposing figure, his knees barely touching the wooden floor of the deck.

Even before he looked up, he could sense Captain Urbosa's presence. A deep, powerful aura that seemed to act like gravity to all around her. Even the air seemed heavy in her presence.

"How are you feeling?" Her voice was deep and perversely affectionate.

Link said nothing, offering only shallow, ragged breaths.

Urbosa placed her fingers lightly under Link's chin and gently raised his head until he was looking at her. The sun was in his eyes and he squinted to try and adjust to the light. She was as beautiful as she was terrifying. The soft sea breeze brushed her crimson locks across her face.

"Does it hurt?" Her voice sent tremors through the young sailor's mind. "You're covered in sweat and your back is bloody. Why don't we cool you off?"

"GNNNNHHHH…" A cold splash of water hit Link's back. Laughter erupted around him as the crew gathered behind him to congratulate a young Gerudo holding a now-empty bucket, patting the young lady on the back.

The sting of salty ocean water seared across the young man's back, as if the wounds were being opened anew. When Link opened his eyes again, he was face to face with Urbosa.

"What do you think?" She said, as she stood up and stepped aside to reveal Mipha.

The petite Zora hung in her bondage, for all to see. The noose around feet was still firmly in place, just above her ankles which I remained secured in mid-air, about 2 feet above most of the crew's heads. Her slender wrists were now also bound together with rope as thick as a thumb, crossed one over the other, and pulled upwards above her head, to the same height at her feet. Her body hung in the air in the shape of a horseshoe, and her head drooped forward. Her skin, which was shimmering in the sunlight, partly due to her flesh continuing to be moist, wet to the touch as if she'd just been fished out of the water, despite being on deck with the blistering heat punishing her for the better part of an hour.

"Beautiful isn't she?" Urbosa mused, looking at her Zora captive.

"Let her.. go…" Link managed to croak out, his voice was weak and subservient. "...please…"

"I'm sorry… 'Link', is it? I'm sorry but I just can't allow for treachery, theft, or fornicating of any kind on my ship. Not without my permission. And unfortunately for you two love birds," Urbosa's voice became a shade deeper "I strongly suspect that a lot of all of that has been going on under my nose."

She moved close to Mipha, leaning her forehead lovingly on the Zora's shoulder and running her hand over her taut abdomen, gently tracing her exposed belly button with the tips of her fingers. Mipha twitched lightly, repulsed by the Gerudo pirate's touch.

"I thought about killing the two of you." she continued. "Briefly of course, but then… do you ever wonder why you were hired for this particular voyage? In any case, I then considered just killing the Zora" Link struggled anew, trying to break free from the two beautiful, muscular Gerudo holding him, to no avail. Urbosa continued; "but then, our lovely first mate Purah had another one of her wonderful ideas! Why not keep you both as slaves? A life of servitude seems like a fair sentence for your crimes no? How does being a swabbie for life sound to you? And we could chain your little friend here to the anchor and have her look for sunken treasure! Or at the very least she'd make for a beautiful figurehead for the ship! Oh, we'd be the envy of the Hylian seas!"

Laughter broke out on the deck once more.

"Captain." A voice cut through the noise and the ruckus. "The brig is ready." A beautiful, Sheikah woman emerged from below the deck.

"Ah, my lovely Purah. I was just mentioning you." Urbosa said with a smile.

"Indeed". Purah's tone was cold and calculated and her voice was like an icicle shattering on the cave floor. She motioned toward a group of pirates next to her, "Get the Zora and follow me below deck."

Link, left to face the wrath of Captain Urbosa on the deck of The Opal Spear, watched helplessly as his love disappeared into the depths of the ship. Urbosa glared at Link with an intensity that sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened crew members.

"What do you have to say for yourself, boy?" Urbosa's voice cut through the tense air, her eyes drilling into Link. Without warning, she unleashed her wrath. A backhanded strike sent Link sprawling to the deck. His cheek stung, and a trickle of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth.

"You'll learn the cost of betrayal," Urbosa declared, her beautiful clear eyes cold as the sea.

"Get me rope!"

To be continued…

To be continued…

Chapter Text

As Link was thrown down the hatch into the brig, a handful of Gerudo began working the ropes that bound Mipha and hung her above the deck of the ship. Purah approached her captain, her movements honed and polished from years of harsh service under Captain Urbosa aboard The Opal Spear.

"Captain, permission to study the Zora prisoner before we initiate her punishment and… 'training'?" The young Sheikah's eyes shot straight into Urbosa's.

"Of course Purah. In fact, there is no rush to be had. Let the two lovebirds long for each other." Her voice became distant, almost ponderous, "young passion can be as cruel as it can be kind… I'll be in my quarters, bring me your findings when you are finished".

Urbosa turned and headed for the Captain's Cabin. Once inside, she closed the door and all the noise of the deck, the sunshine, the salty breeze and the sound of the waves faded behind her. She leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply and whispered to herself, "as cruel as it can be kind…". She sat at her desk and stared off into the distance. The tide of sweet and painful memories began rising in the shores of her mind.

Many years ago…

The sound of Urbosa's steady, strong heartbeat worked almost as a lullaby for Zelda, as she struggled to keep her eyes open. With her hands crossed snuggly at her chest, Zelda rested her head on Urbosa's left breast, feeling protected in her lover's strong arms.

Compared to the other girls she grew up with in castle grounds, Zelda was always on the more petite side, which she didn't like so much, as the other, bigger girls would tease her and shove her about. Now, however, laying on top of her Gerudo girlfriend, she felt positively tiny and she loved it.

Urbosa was half sitting, half laying down with her back against a tree. Her semi-upright position was perfect for Zelda to snuggle into. The two had been sitting there, naked, for roughly an hour. They would always sleep together in the nude.

"I thought you said you wouldn't fall asleep little one…"

Urbosa's deep, growly, warm voice broke through the relative silence of the small clearing the two of them had found, deep within the Lost Woods near Lake Saria.

"I'm not-" Zelda protested, her words slurring as if she'd just woken up from a nap. "I mean I wasn't… oh leave me be, you know how easy it is for me to drift away when you hold me after we… you know…"

Urbosa only smiled and held her tighter. A half-eaten Hyrule Bass on a spit rested on top of a now dwindling bonfire. Moments passed.

"I'm sorry." Zelda's voice seemed to carry a hint of shame. "I'm not used to this life. The traveling, the hunting, the camping, the battles… I'm not like you Urbosa. I'm not strong enough."

Zelda felt Urbosa's large fingers gently slide down the side of her face and go under her chin. As strong as her lover was, it always surprised the young Hylian how gentle Urbosa's hands could be. She let herself be raised by the chin until their eyes met.

“My dewdrop,” Urbosa’s voice was a warm blanket over them. “Strength does not come from how far you can walk or how much you can lift, or even how long you can stay awake for. It comes from your will to continue on, even when you can no longer do any of those things. That makes you the strongest little Hylian I know.”

Zelda let go of Urbosa and sat on the Gerudo’s outstretched legs, straddling them and looked straight at her face. “Still,” she started, “If I were more than a little Hylian, I wouldn’t feel like I was holding you back…”

“Ha!” Urbosa’s fiery laugh echoed around the clearing, “well don’t you worry my little dewdrop, we’ll make a Gerudo out of you yet!”

“Don’t tease me!” Zelda chuckled “I can take anything a big Gerudo girl can take!”

“Is that so?” A smile sprang across Urbosa’s face. “Shall we put that to the test?”

“Absolutely,” Zelda’s voice adopted a more sultry tone. Her face drew closer to Urbosa’s, her eyes fixed on the Gerudo’s full, lush lips. “I think I ca- WOAH“

Before Zelda could finish speaking, Urbosa grabbed her tiny girlfriend and embraced her, not too tightly, but just enough to make her squirm and unable to escape.

Laughing, Zelda tried to speak “Urbosa! What are yo-“

“Everything is a competition when you are a Gerudo.” Urbosa interrupted, turning over and releasing Zelda on to the soft grass. “Even loving” She was now over the petite blonde girl, on all fours, arms to either side of her. “That’s why,” Urbosa continued, “whenever Gerudo girls want to have fun, it starts out as a wrestling match”. Zelda was giggling. She turned on her stomach and tried to crawl away, but Urbosa grabbed her by the leg and dragged her back under her.

“Hahahaha no! Hhahaha” Zelda’s pretend resistance was being undermined by the laughter she could not contain.

“It’s all about displaying strength,” Urbosa carried on as she took hold of Zelda’s left wrist, “showing your partner how much you want them. Or, as seems to be the case with you my little dewdrop, resisting, and try to make your mate work for your affection, make them prove how much they want you”. Now she held both of Zelda’s slender wrists, one in each hand. “But ultimately yielding. A true Gerudo only submits to someone they trust and care for, and only after a good tussle… Do you submit?”

A huge smile spread across Zelda’s face.

“Never! A true Gerudo never yields! Grrrrr…” Zelda bared her teeth and furrowed her brow. She then twisted her body, trying to pull her arms away to free her wrists. She was putting on a show for Urbosa, arching her back, and pushing her breasts out. Straining and grunting, she wanted to make Urbosa feel powerful and in control. Theatrics aside, she was actually pinned down and unable to escape her lover’s grasp, but that small tinge of realism only turned the two of them on even more.

Urbosa seemed barely able to contain herself. She knew Zelda was merely playing along but she looked absolutely stunning like that, presenting herself to the Gerudo woman, her writhing looking more like a sensual dance than an actual attempt at any form of resistance. She hunched down and immediately began kissing Zelda’s neck.

“Mmmmh” Zelda turned her head so she could feel more of Urbosa’s lips and tongue and tusks on her neck, but still continued to “struggle” and try to free herself. She started squirming a lot less however, as soon as she felt Urbosa start to move to her collarbone. She then proceeded to gently kiss her right breast. A gentleness, that was somewhat undermined by the tiniest of pains as Urbosa’s teeth began to press against the soft flesh of Zelda’s chest. “hhhHHHHmmm…” Zelda was determined to keep up appearances and would not allow herself to give in to her desires so soon, even though her body seemed to be desperately crying out for it. The soft light of the bonfire and the moonlight made the thin layer of sweat that was beginning to envelop her pale skin shine, which only made her more beautiful.

“OW!” Zelda yelped. Urbosa had begun biting the tip of her nipples with a bit more intensity.

“Am I being too rough, my little dewdrop?” Urbosa slowed down and peeked upwards toward her lover.

Zelda winced. “N-no, it’s all right. You just got me by surprise.” It had actually hurt a little, but more than that, Urbosa’s remark annoyed her, and a spark of stubbornness ignited in Zelda, she was now determined to show her mettle. Did Urbosa really think she was this fragile? Even if she was, she did not appreciate the idea that she couldn’t keep up with her lover’s tastes.

Urbosa slowly loosened her grip on Zelda’s wrists, then caressed her forearms, moving to her shoulders, then, as she began kissing her stomach, her hands made their way to her hips, firmly holding them in place.

“Big mistake” whispered Zelda. With her arms now free, she joined her hands and began forming a series of shapes with her fingers. “XkqUoS, KgWekk, fZqa!”. As the spells left her lips, her voice seemed not her own, Zelda’s rug sack which was resting by the tree began to shake. Urbosa looked up at her, confused, but before she could figure out what was going on, a length of golden rope slithered out of the bag with remarkable speed.

“What trickery is this?!” Urbosa protested, but it was too late. The rope had coiled itself around the large Gerudo, pinning her arms to the side. After trying to maintain her balance, Urbosa fell on her side, the magic rope rolling her over on her back. It then continued to coil itself around Urbosa’s torso, sliding under her large breasts. “This is not fair!” she barked, and Zelda could swear she heard a chuckle!

Urbosa strained against her bonds as Zelda mounted her, straddling the beautiful Gerudo woman, sitting on her toned abdomen just below her breasts.

She was leaning down, doubling over, her face hovering over Urbosa's beautiful face. "Do you submit, my love?" asked Zelda, her tone was calm and teasing.

Urbosa ceased her struggling and looked straight into the eyes of the woman she loved. "Only to you".

Zelda took Urbosa's face in her hands and kissed her pasionately.

"Good girl".

Back in the present…

Urbosa wiped a tear from her eye, and cursed her memory. The world is a cruel and unfair place and she would make sure this lesson was passed on.

To be continued…

Chapter Text

Under the scorching midday sun, Captain Urbosa approached Link with her dark, beautiful, and ominous presence.

Urbosa's eyes glinted with a sadistic determination as she seized various lengths of coarse ship's rope. The sails and pulley systems of The Opal Spear, usually tools of navigation, became instruments of punishment in her capable hands.

The two Gerudo women holding Link threw him to the hardwood floor of the deck of the ship. As he slowly looked up, he could only make out Urbosa's dark silhouette against the bright sunny sky as she towered above him.

With swift and precise movements, Urbosa began to bind Link, expertly utilizing the ropes at her disposal, grabbing his hands and holding them behind him. He offered little resistance, as he was already exhausted and the pain of the whipping hadn't yet subsided. Each knot was a testament to her swift mastery, her touch deceptively delicate against Link's skin. She wove intricate patterns around Link's wrists, each binding designed to intensify the strain with even the slightest movement.

"There, isn't this cozy?" Urbosa cooed, her voice dripping with saccharine insincerity. The Gerudo pirates, eager witnesses, exchanged glances as they prepared for the captain's sadistic display.

Urbosa then threaded the rope through a pulley, a sinister gleam in her eyes. As she began to pull, Link's wrists were drawn upward, his body forced to contort with the strain and hunch forward. The captain reveled in the grim satisfaction of each tug, a puppeteer manipulating her captive while Link, winced with every pull of the rope. The pulley systems, usually associated with the ship's graceful maneuvers, now became mechanisms of torment.

With each pull, Urbosa mocked him with feigned concern. "Oh, do tell me if it's too tight," she teased, a sadistic lilt in her voice.

Link was now bent over at almost a right angle, his arms a few inches removed from his back as he faced the floor.

Urbosa continued the torment, her laughter punctuating the relentless rhythm of Link's suffering. "Aren't we having fun?" she jeered, pulling the rope again, increasing the strain on his bound wrists. He alternated being on tiptoes for each of his feet, trying to find some reprieve as it became increasingly difficult to breathe.

Another pull.

Link, contorted and in pain, couldn't suppress a groan as only his toes now touched the deck. Urbosa leaned in, her lips dangerously close to his ear. "You know, a simple apology might make all this go away," she whispered mockingly.

Another pull.

Link gasped as what little air he had left inside him left and his feet no longer touched the floor. The pain was unbearable, his shoulders felt like they were on fire, being ripped away from his body. He kicked his legs, desperately trying to find sweet purchase only inches away, but it was useless.

"I'm sure you're enjoying this as much as I am," she remarked, reveling in his perverse dance of pain.

Through gritted teeth, Link finally begged, "Captain, please… release me."

Urbosa, savoring the moment, grinned triumphantly. The pulley system creaked and strained under her masterful control. She released some slack. Not much, just enough to let Link stand on his toes.

With a final knot, Urbosa secured Link in his contorted position. The pulley system held him captive, a marionette in her hands. The pirates, all beautiful Gerudo women erupted in laughter and cheers as Urbosa reveled in her triumph.

"Well, well, isn't this a delightful sight?" Urbosa jeered, circling Link like a predator relishing its prey. She mockingly caressed his strained form, tracing her finger from his right forearm to his shoulder, then traced her way to his neck and around his jawline. Holding his chin, she then crouched before is bound form, locking eyes, her face inches away from his. Never breaking eye contact and still holding his chin, she gently traced his hairline with her right finger behind his ear. For a moment, despite the pain, Link got lost in her beautiful bright eyes. It would be the easiest thing in the world to surrender to such a woman, so gorgeous and terrifying.
She nodded to one of her crew members standing behind Link. The woman grabbed Link's dark green sash and draped it around her neck like a scarf. She then tugged on his breeches and pulled them to his ankles with one swift motion, leaving him completely naked. The crew, caught in the spectacle, laughed and clapped as Urbosa stood up.

Link, enduring both the physical strain and the humiliation, kept his focus on Mipha. "Captain, I beg you, release Mipha. She has no part in this," he pleaded, through gritted teeth his voice strained with pain.

Urbosa slapped the bound boy hard across the face once more. She leaned in from above, grabbed him by the hair, and turned his head so her lips were directly above his ear. "You're not in a position to make demands, sharkbait," she hissed.

Link, resilient despite his torment, continued his pleas. "Captain, I'll do whatever you want. Just spare Mipha. Please," he implored, his desperation laid bare for all to see.

Urbosa, slightly annoyed but successfully hiding it, went straight for the pulley system, and gave it a huge tug. Link cried in pain as he was listed clean off the floor once more, kicking desperately. Then, all of a sudden, he dropped to the floor, falling on his knees, shoulder and side of his head. Urbosa, reveling in her sadistic triumph, circled him like a shark closing in on its prey. The crew's laughter and cheers echoed as she continued her torment, as the boy writhed at her feet, trying to regain his composure.

"Boy," Urbosa purred mockingly, her voice a venomous whisper, "I don't think you fully appreciate the position you're in."

With an almost unnatural swiftness, the Captain tied both of his ankles with more rope, then bent his legs at the knees, bringing his feet and hands together, then tying them up. Hogtied tightly, Link could only shift his weight from side to side impotently. Suddenly, he felt a tug, and before she realized what was happening, Link was being pulled upwards by his hands and feet. A pair of crewmembers were hoisting the rope, raising his restrained form inches at a time. When he was raised about 5 feet off the ground, they stopped and secured him, leaving him to sway gently, as he kept his head down and his eyes on the floor.

Urbosa appeared before him again and held his face in her hands. She caressed his cheek with a cruel tenderness, the mockery in her touch intensifying the humiliation as his face was inches away from her toned abdomen. "You could be my pet. Wouldn't that be nice?" Her right hand moved behind his neck, her fingers tracing a line between his shoulder blades, "living by my side, for my pleasure," her left hand felt around the back of his head and she pulled him closer to her. His cheek brushed against her soft skin, just to the left of her belly button as she continued playing with his hair, "maybe even… for your pleasure, little sharkbait?"

"Captain, he's getting hard!!!" Shouted one of the crewmembers from the crowd right before it erupted into laughter. Link closed his eyes and hung his head in shame, but Captain Urbosa raised his chin with her finger again.

"See? I know you want this. Just give in to me, I can make everything better…" She traced a finger along the curve of his jaw, her touch feigning an intimacy that mocked the harsh reality of his situation. "Why don't you try kissing your captain?"

Link froze still.

"It's all right sailor boy," Captain Urbosa said, "that was an order." Tentatively, Link gently pressed his lips against the Captain's soft skin, just above her navel, a little to the left. "Thaaat's it," her tone was dominant yet oddly comforting and reassuring, "Again". Once more he kissed her, lower down her flat abdomen this time. She tasted of saltwater and desert flowers. Captain Urbosa could not help but smile. She had him. Not completely just yet but she had him. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Imagine, you'll be my little pet and you can live comfortably at my side." Moving her right hand to Link's stomach, Captain Urbosa licked the side of his face, tasting the sweat and the saltwater. Link let out a quiet, soft moan.

Just then, a bone-chilling shriek came from below the deck. It was Mipha. Link, with renewed, desperate energy began writhing in his bondage and pleading "Captain, please. Please don't hurt her. Please let her go I beg you. She's everything to me. Please" his voice trembling with panic.

"Captain, please, let her go. She's innocent in all of this." Terrified of what was being done to Mipha, Link could only beg.

Urbosa's frustration simmered beneath her composed exterior. She looked deep into Link's eyes and whispered "No."

Chapter Text

Below deck, within the confines of the Opal Spear's brig, the air was filled with sounds of water dripping and wood creaking as Purah, flanked by four other Gerudo women, led Mipha toward the ominous examination slab. It was made of rough wood and had iron rings bolted on all sides along its edge. Similar rings were also bolted to it at several points on the floor around it. The Zora's amber eyes flashed with wild defiance as she approached her inevitable fate.

The pirates surrounded Mipha. One of them carried a thick, coarse rope, wary of the Zora's untamed spirit.

"Careful now," Purah warned, her tone sharp. "This one's got a bite."

Mipha, though bound, unleashed a flurry of thrashing and hissing, her teeth bared like a cornered beast. The pirates, undeterred, closed in cautiously, attempting to restrain the Zora's frenzied movements.

"Watch her feet!" one pirate shouted as Mipha kicked out, attempting to whack them away with her foot.

Mipha fought with a primal ferocity, the wildness of the ocean coursing through her. She bared her teeth and hissed and shrieked. Her attempts to break free were met with grunts and curses from the pirates, determined to subdue the beautiful creature.

"Steady, steady!" Purah commanded, her scientific resolve unyielding.

Mipha's attempts to resist only intensified. She hissed and snapped, her eyes gleaming with a feral light. The Gerudo pirates, despite the challenge, persisted, their hands working swiftly to secure the Zora's thrashing body.

After a fierce struggle, the pirates managed to ensnare Mipha's legs with a series of tight knots. They fashioned tight nooses around her delicate ankles and secured them to the far corners of the wooden slab. Another set of ropes was looped higher up along her legs, at her thighs. This was secured to smaller iron bolts on the sides of the table. The coarse rope was also looped around each of her delicate wrists 3 times, then secured to the iron bolts further along the table, keeping her arms to her side but slightly away from her body. The Zora, though restrained, continued to hiss and squirm, her eyes ablaze with untamed defiance. One last noose was made, and this one was looped around the Mipha's neck and tightened. The rope was passed through the iron ring at the end of the slab, directly above Mipha's head, and one of the beautiful, muscled Gerudo women held the end of the rope and pulled. Mipha choked as her neck was pulled away from the rest of her body and the ropes around her wrists and tail kept her in place. After the pirate seemed content with how far she could pull, she fastened the rope to one of the rings bolted to the floor.

Purah, undeterred by the chaos, nodded in satisfaction. "Good. We wouldn't want any unnecessary complications." Her gaze, unyielding and analytical, remained fixed on the young Zora.

As the pirates stepped back, save the one holding the noose around her neck save the one holding the noose around her neck, leaving Mipha on the examination slab, the brig's shadow fought against the light that seeped through the wood from the deck above. Mipha's chest heaved with exertion, as she arched her back, thrusting her breasts out. Her lithe arms pulled at their restrained wrists and her body jerked and twisted in its bondage.

Purah, armed with a notebook and various scientific instruments, circled Mipha like a vulture eying its prey. The other pirates stood ready, their expressions a mix of anticipation and morbid curiosity.

"Captain's orders," Purah explained with a chilling calmness. "She wishes to understand the intricacies of the creature's biology." She approached Mipha, "You should be honored; not everyone gets to contribute to science in such a unique way."

Mipha fought against her bonds, writhing and baring her teeth, her honey eyes fixed on Purah as the first mate circled her like a predator assessing its prey.

"The elusive Zora," Purah remarked, her tone clinical and devoid of empathy. She held a notebook and various scientific instruments, ready to dissect the mysteries of Mipha's existence.

"Let's see what we have here," Purah began, flipping through the pages of her notebook. "Subject exhibits pale epidermis, with crimson sections."

"Appears to retain moisture even after no contact with water," Purah continued, her fingers brushing against Mipha's skin as if she were an inanimate object, then holding it inches from her face. Purah jotted down her observations, uncaring of Mipha's discomfort. The other pirates watched with hushed fascination.

"Respiration appears to occur through gill-like structures," Purah noted, lifting Mipha's noting the delicate, translucent slits on the sides of her torso. "No doubt an adaptation for prolonged underwater survival."

Mipha winced as Purah's examination continued, her vulnerability on display for the merciless scrutiny of the first mate. Purah, absorbed in her scientific inquiry, spoke as though Mipha were not present.

"Muscle structure—surprisingly humanoid, though with enhanced flexibility, likely a product of aquatic evolution," Purah commented, grabbing Mipha's wrists and forearms with an almost clinical detachment. Purah continued, " A striking coloration, no doubt a survival advantage in her aquatic habitat." Mipha's skin shimmered faintly in the dim light as Purah made her notations, "Perhaps also a tool for attracting mates?"

Purah moved to Mipha's fin, long and thick, with a bright red tint that seemed to occasionally shimmer, even in the darkness. "Hair exhibits an interesting iridescence," Purah remarked as if commenting on a rare specimen. She then hunched over Mipha's face. "Small mouth with delicate lips," Purah continued, her fingers hovering over Mipha's mouth. The water nymph instinctively tried to bite at Purah's fingers but the rope around her neck prevented her. "Slightly fanged teeth". Finally, Purah examined Mipha's hands, small and delicate, lightly webbed. "Hands," Purah mused, "lightly webbed, with an almost scale-like texture but reminiscent of the skin of on the creature's ears. Frilly fins with yellow and blue coloration along the forearm".

Safari dropped a roll of leather next to Mipha's head and unfolded it. Still constrained by the noose, the Zora Girl could not see its contents.

Mipha jerked suddenly as she felt Purah's right hand rest on her smooth, taught abdomen. Slowly, her hand reached around her hip and her fingers began making their way in between the wood and the Zora's skin. With her left hand, Safari began tracing Mipha's side, from where her scales ended at the hip, up along her ribs. Mipha again pulled at her bonds but to no avail, her mind was racing.

"Gills along the creature's ribs." noted Purah.

Looking straight into the creature's eyes, Purah continued her exploration of Miphas body, "I wonder if it feels what a Hylian feels. Does it respond to the same stimuli?" Purah's hand slid over Mipha's right breast and grabbed it, groping and squeezing lightly. Purah leaned closer, "It is obviously affectionate towards that boy so I wonder if it can feel attraction." Purah's tone became softer as her middle finger began circling Mipha's nipple, "does it respond to his affections? To his touch? Does it reciprocate?"

Mipha pulled against her bonds with all her might. She screamed through gritted teeth as her body became rigid, trying to fight against her debasement.

With her finger and thumb, Purah twirled Mipha's now erect nipple. The Zora girl struggled with renewed fury, writhing in her bonds, trying to twist her torso to escape Purah's grasp but the ropes held her fast. Purah began pinching Mipha's nipple more viciously, digging her nails into her soft, wet flesh, and drawing out an enraged shriek from the captive. The woman holding the rope noosed around her neck pulled hard once again, choking Mipha and bringing her back to the table.

"Hold it steady" Purah ordered her crewmate with clinical coldness. With a graceful leap, Purah jumped onto the slab Mipha was tied to. She straddled the water nymph and threw her notes down. She leaned over and kissed Mipha's collarbone, holding her shoulders. She then shimmied down lower, sitting on the Zora's thighs, and began kissing her breast. Involuntarily, Mipha arched her back. Then Purah took her nipple in her mouth, sucking it hard and finishing with a little bite, pulling the tip of the nipple with her teeth. The sensation was too strong and sudden for Mipha to try and suppress it. She writhed in her bonds, trying to tear away from Purah's caress but the pirate continued her ministrations, groping her free breast with her hand.

After a while, she sat back up, looking down at her subject who was still scowling at her. Her eyes traveled downward, along her navel, and to her waist where her scales began. She then stood still and her head turned in puzzlement. "Most curious…"

She picked up the notebook she had been taking notes on and resumed her writing; "after some stimulation, the creature appears to respond sexually to my advances. The scales around the genital area seem to dissolve into flesh. Smooth labia, strikingly similar to that of a human, is this how they breed I wonder? Is it compatible with human reproductive organs?"

As Purah feverishly scribbled away her new findings, Mipha struggled with fresh vigor, the humiliation almost too strong to bear. She didn't even notice as Purah stuck her fingers into her slit until it was too late. Mipha howled with rage at this transgression and the woman holding her 'noose' tightened her grip.

"Arousal seems evident," Purah continued, putting the notebook on the slab while keeping her other hand inside Mipha, "even considering its moist nature, I can still feel excess lubrication."

Mipha began thrusting her hips, trying to shake Purah off but the pirate held steady but not without effort, her pale, smooth skin shone with sweat as she tried to stay on top of the creature, all the while driving her fingers deeper into her. She was fighting Purah's advances as much as her own feelings, but her body began to betray her. Muffled grunts and gasps escaped her. She shut her eyes and bared her teeth as a familiar warmth began building within her.

Just as suddenly as she hopped on, Safari climbed off of Mipha. The water nymph groaned with frustration and twisted in her bonds.

"The captain will be MOST pleased with my findings…"

Chapter Text

The ropes bit into Link's wrists, sharp as razors and just as unforgiving. He knelt there on the creaking deck, eyes bloodshot, skin slick with sweat and salt, while dusk smothered the world in shades of bruised violet and shadow. The sea stretched out before them, dark and infinite, indifferent to his suffering. But all Link could see was Mipha—his Mipha—suspended by her wrists, her delicate limbs stretched taut by cruel, weathered ropes.

She hung like some prized catch. The fading light played across her skin, which had once shimmered like sunlight on water, but now dulled, sickly, as if the very air was draining her life away. Her eyes, always so deep, so alive with the magic of water, now stared blankly ahead. And Link could do nothing. Not a damned thing.

Urbosa stood beside him, the Gerudo captain’s silhouette sharp against the dying sun. Her eyes, cold and calculating, flickered with something dangerous as they fell on Link’s prone form. In one hand, she lazily twirled a whip, its braided leather glistening with the promise of pain. With her other hand, she ran her fingers in Link's hair.

“You must be wondering, boy,” she said, her voice low and almost kind, “why I didn’t just toss her back to the sea, like any other fish. You know I’ve no interest in keeping pets. But this…” She gestured to Mipha’s bound form as two Gerudo women turned her so that her back was facing Urbosa and Link. “This is too good an opportunity to pass up. Love, I think, deserves a show.”

Link’s throat burned, raw from his earlier shouts, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Captain, don’t… please… she’s done nothing.”

Urbosa’s laugh was a sharp, broken thing, like a gull’s cry on the wind. “Oh, Link. That’s where you’re wrong. She’s made you weak. And weakness? That’s a crime on my ship.”

She raised the whip, letting it dance in the air before cracking it against the deck with a sound that made the crew flinch, though they tried to hide it. The pirates stood in a loose circle, their faces set, hardened by years on the unforgiving seas. They wouldn’t intervene. Urbosa ruled them, like the ocean itself, fierce and without mercy.

Link struggled against his bonds as Urbosa grabbed a fistful of his hair and stepped closer to Mipha, who still hung there, fragile and otherworldly. The sound of the whip unfurling again sent a tremor through Link’s chest.

“Look at her,” Urbosa whispered, leaning in close enough that Link could smell the salt in her hair, the iron of old blood. “You’re going to watch, Link. Every mark. Every lash. This is the price of betrayal. Yours… and hers.”

She stepped back throwing Link into her gathered crew, who dutifully grabbed him and turned him to face what was about to happen. The whip rose in her hand like a serpent ready to strike. For a moment, time seemed to hang in the balance, the sea quiet, the crew silent, the world holding its breath.

The first lash came down with a sound like a breaking wave—sharp and biting. Mipha gasped, her body jerking in the ropes, but she made no sound, no cry of pain. She held on, even as her skin began to welt and darken. Link’s heart broke at the sight of it. The only clear sign of pain was the way her fins jerked and flailed around.

The second lash, and then the third, and still no sound from her, though Link’s own throat burned with unshed screams. He couldn’t bear it. But he couldn’t look away. Urbosa had chained him in place with her cruelty, bound him with the weight of his own helplessness.

“You think you can steal from me,” Urbosa continued, her voice rising with each stroke of the whip, “take what’s mine and run? You thought you could hide with her beneath the waves, live out some fantasy?”

Each question was punctuated with the brutal crack of leather against flesh, and with every strike, Link’s vision blurred, his world narrowing to Mipha’s face, her lips pale, trembling, but still silent, still defiant.

He wanted to scream, to shout her name, to tell her he was sorry, that he should have fought harder, found some other way. But all the words died in his throat, drowned by the sound of her suffering.

By the time Urbosa’s arm finally lowered, the whip hanging limp at her side, Mipha’s body was trembling, her breaths shallow and uneven. Blood mixed with saltwater dripped from her skin, staining the deck beneath her feet and two pirates once again turned her so that she now faced the captain and her crew. And still, she hadn’t made a sound.

Link could only watch as Urbosa leaned close to Mipha, lifting her chin with the tip of the whip. “So fragile,” she murmured, almost tenderly. “I wonder… how long before the sea forgets you?”

She turned back to Link, eyes gleaming with a sick satisfaction. “Now, sailor. What will you do? Beg for her life? Swear yourself to me, perhaps? I could use a broken thing like you.”

But Link, though bound and beaten, broken and full of despair, met her gaze with a fire that hadn’t quite been extinguished. “Please,” he spat, blood and defiance mingling on his lips. “Please stop this. I will do anything. Anything you want.”

Urbosa smiled, a slow, wicked thing, as the last light of the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. "We’ll see about that, Link. We’ll see."

The sea whispered beneath the ship as Urbosa’s crew closed in, their eyes glinting with hunger. Link barely had time to breathe before rough hands seized him, dragging him to his feet. His wrists still throbbed from the rope, his back screaming from the earlier beatings. His vision swam, but not enough to shield him from what came next.

Urbosa turned, her smile serpentine, as she watched her crew surround him like a pack of wolves. "Ladies," she purred, arms outstretched as if presenting a grand prize, "tonight's entertainment is yours. Consider this a reward for your… unwavering loyalty."

A ripple of dark amusement ran through the crew, a collective grin spreading across their faces. Link’s heart pounded as they moved in closer, some already rolling up their sleeves, others cracking their knuckles with grim anticipation. He knew what was coming. He had seen what they were capable of.

"Have at him girls," Urbosa added, her tone light, like she was discussing the weather. "But leave enough for tomorrow. We wouldn’t want to run out of fun too soon, would we?"

The pirates laughed, low and sinister, and the first blow came—a fist to his stomach that knocked the wind out of him. He doubled over, only to be caught by another pirate’s knee slamming into his ribs. Link tried to fight back, but they were too many, too fast. Another punch, another kick, and he was sent sprawling onto the deck, coughing, gasping for air.

Amid the chaos, Urbosa’s voice cut through like a knife. "Ah, but wait. Wait!" she called out, and the crew paused, holding Link down, his arms pinned behind him.

Urbosa’s attention wasn’t on Link, though. It was on Mipha.

Still hanging from her ropes, Mipha’s body was marked, her breaths shallow. Her eyes, though dimmed from pain, glowed with a faint, otherworldly light as they fixed on the captain. Urbosa strolled over to her with slow, deliberate steps, each one resonating with the weight of her malice.

"Look at him," Urbosa said, voice dripping with mockery. She reached out and grasped Mipha’s chin, forcing her to face the brutal scene on the deck. "Your precious Link. He’s weak, isn’t he? Pathetic. Is this the man you thought would save you? The one you chose over the sea?"

Mipha’s lips twitched, her eyes narrowing. Link tried to catch her gaze, tried to offer some kind of reassurance, but Urbosa stood between them, blocking his view. The captain was relentless, twisting the knife deeper with every word.

"You could have had the ocean," Urbosa continued, her grip tightening on Mipha’s face. "All the freedom you could ever dream of, but you gave it up for him. And now, look at him, broken at the feet of my crew. What a poor choice you made."

Link struggled under the weight of the pirates holding him down, his body shaking with fury. He wanted to shout at Urbosa, to curse her, but the words caught in his throat, choked out by the pain and the weight of helplessness.

"Say something, little zora," Urbosa whispered, her voice a serpent’s hiss in Mipha’s ear. "Beg for his life, and maybe I’ll let him live. Or maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you watch as my crew finishes him off."

Mipha’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her wrists trembling from the strain of hanging so long. Urbosa grinned, clearly enjoying herself, confident that she had broken the zora’s will. But then, Mipha’s lips parted, and instead of pleading, she let out a low, menacing hiss.

It was a sound not of weakness, but of defiance—a reminder of the creature she was. Mipha bared her teeth, sharp and pearly like the predators of the deep. Her eyes flashed with a feral light, a warning that the sea, though distant, still lived within her.

Urbosa recoiled slightly, surprised but not deterred. She laughed, a high, cruel sound. "Oh, so the little fish has some bite after all." She leaned in closer, her lips inches from Mipha’s ear. "But that won’t save you. Neither of you are going anywhere. You’ll both be mine by sunrise, begging for mercy."

Mipha’s only response was another hiss, louder this time, her teeth bared in a snarl. The crew watched, some exchanging uneasy glances, but none dared question Urbosa’s authority.

"Have it your way," Urbosa said, her smile fading into something darker, colder. She stepped back, allowing the full weight of her power to fall over them both. "But don’t think you can protect him with your silence. He will suffer, girl. And it will be because of you."

At her signal, the pirates resumed their assault on Link. Fists, boots, anything they had, all rained down on him. Occasionally one of them would grab him by the neck and kiss him. Others would fondle his dick, grabbing and pulling it, making it hard. As one of the women put Link in a headlock, another began sucking his cock. They took turns. Sometimes they would pin him down and make him facefuck whoever sat on him, or just piss over his bound form.

And through it all, Urbosa watched, her dark eyes flicking between Link’s suffering and Mipha’s defiant silence.

"How long will you hold out, I wonder?" she mused, her voice carrying over the din of violence. "How long before the sea calls you back? Or will you let him die for you?"

Link, bloodied and barely able to move, fought to keep his head up, to meet Mipha’s gaze just once. But it was Urbosa’s laughter that filled the night air, a sound that echoed through the ship like a haunting melody, promising that this nightmare had only just begun. And as the night swallowed the world whole, Link realized that this was just the beginning of their torment.

By the time the night had run its course, Link lay crumpled on the deck, barely conscious, his body a mass of bruises and pain. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one feeling like it might be his last. The pirates had had their fill, and now they stood back, hands on their hips, some sneering, others simply indifferent or completely drunk, as they waited for Urbosa to speak.

Mipha still hung from her bonds, her wrists bloodied, her skin marred by lashes, but her spirit had not broken. Link had tried to hide his suffering from her, but he knew she had felt every blow as keenly as he had.

Urbosa, calm and unruffled by the brutality she had unleashed, stood at the helm, surveying her ship as though the night had been nothing more than a particularly lively game. The moonlight cast a cold gleam across her face, making her look like something carved from the sea itself—merciless and impenetrable.

"Well," she said at last, her voice smooth and unhurried, "I do think this has been quite the evening, don’t you?" She walked slowly towards Mipha, her boots clicking against the wood, her gaze moving between the two of them. "But now comes the matter of deciding what to do with you both. After all, I can’t have my prisoners running free and planning to steal from me again, can I?"

Link stirred, forcing his eyes open, his body screaming in protest. He tried to speak, to plead for Mipha’s life, but his throat was raw, and the words came out as little more than a croak. Still, Urbosa seemed to notice.

"Ah, Link," she cooed, crouching down beside him, her fingers brushing against the bloodied side of his face. "Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you. But first… your lovely creature."

Urbosa straightened, turning her full attention to the water nymph who hung like a broken angel above them. "You’ve cost me a great deal of trouble, zora. You and your sailor here. But you’ve also given me something far more valuable. Inspiration." Her lips curled into a slow, malicious smile.

"I’ve decided that you’ll stay with us, creature. Oh, not as a prisoner in the brig—no, I have something more… fitting for you." She gestured grandly toward the bow of the ship. "You’ll be our figurehead. A living, breathing symbol of The Opal Spear’s dominance over the Hylian sea. Strapped to the front, where you’ll have the perfect view of the waters you love so much—but never touch again."

The crew murmured their approval, some grinning at the twisted poetry of the punishment. Link’s heart shattered at Urbosa’s words. He tried again to rise, to do something, anything, but his body refused to obey him.

Urbosa's smile widened as she continued. "Yes, you’ll look out at the sea every day, girl, but never feel its embrace again. You’ll be a decoration. An ornament for my ship, as helpless as the waves you once called home."

Mipha’s eyes darkened with a mix of fury and sorrow, her jaw clenched as she hissed once more, baring her sharp teeth at Urbosa. But the pirate captain only laughed.

"That’s the spirit," Urbosa said, her amusement evident. "Hold onto that anger. It won’t save you, but it will make the view more interesting." She snapped her fingers, and the pirates moved toward Mipha, untying her wrists only to drag her towards the front of the ship. Ropes were quickly wound around her arms and torso, securing her tightly to the ship’s figurehead post. There, she hung like some macabre trophy, her body stretched out for all to see, facing the endless expanse of the sea that had once been her freedom.

Link tried to scream, to protest, but the only sound that escaped him was a ragged breath. His body was too broken to fight, and as much as it tore at his soul, there was nothing he could do to stop them.

Urbosa turned her attention back to him, her smile fading into something colder, more calculating. "As for you, Link…"

Two pirates approached, one carrying a small wooden chest, its hinges rusted and its surface battered by years of hard use. It was a punishment box—narrow, cramped, and utterly unforgiving. Link’s heart sank as he realized what was about to happen.

"You’ll be spending some time in here," Urbosa said, tapping the top of the chest with her boot. "Just enough space for you to curl up, but not enough to move. You’ll be… shall we say… contemplating your choices. With your hands still tied, of course. And you’ll stay there until I say otherwise. Maybe a day, maybe more. That depends on my mood."

The pirates grabbed him by the arms, hauling him toward the box. Link barely had the strength to resist as they forced him down, shoving him into the cramped space. His arms, still bound behind him, made it nearly impossible to fit, his shoulders screaming in agony as they bent his body to squeeze inside. His ankles were tied together and his legs were pulled up against his chest, and the smell of damp wood and salt filled his nose as the lid slammed shut, sealing him in darkness.

From inside the box, Link could hear the sea, muffled and distant, mocking him with its eternal freedom. His body throbbed in the confined space, his breath shallow as the chest gave him no room to stretch, no room to even breathe properly, save for the small holes that had been made around the chest to "ensure" air circulation.

And above him, just beyond his reach, he knew that Mipha was tied to the ship’s bow, looking out at the endless sea, her fate bound to his, both of them trapped in Urbosa’s twisted game.

As the night wore on and the pirates slowly retreated to their bunks or night shift positions, the ship creaked and groaned beneath them.

Chapter Text

Years ago…

Zelda felt the rough wood scrape against her womanhood again. The rope around her naked body felt rough and fibrous against her soft, pale skin, and would occasionally itch. Her arms were bound behind her back in a folded position, the tips of her fingers almost reaching her elbows. The upper arms and wrists were securely wrapped, causing her chest to push slightly forward. The rope then continued its merciless journey horizontally across her chest, wrapping around both arms and chest just above her delicate breasts. It went around her again, this time around the ribcage, just before the base of her bosom.

This, however, was the least amount of discomfort she currently endured. Her feet were tied at the ankles with more rope, to bolts on the stone floor, pulling her down beyond what her weight would. The only thing keeping her from touching the floor was a sturdy and triangular wooden beam she straddled the narrow top edge of, with one leg on each side. What started as a dull, throbbing ache had escalated into sharp, stabbing pain hours ago, as her weight forced her deeper into the edge of the beam.
Zelda was petite however, and as merciless as the wooden horse was to her, she could not imagine what it was doing to Urbosa, who was tied exactly as she was, atop the horrid implement. She could not see her, tied back to back as they were, but she could feel the weight of her lover's massive muscular form make the wooden structure creek as she imagined the maddening pain driving up her gerudo crotch.

"Hey big girl…" Zelda whispered, her soft, caring voice barely echoing around the dark chamber, "You still with me?".
Urbosa stirred in her bondage.

"Of course, I am, my little dewdrop," her low growl of a voice exuding warmth, "I'm not going anywhere"
"That's not funny", Zelda said, smiling.

"It is a little," replied Urbosa with almost a chuckle, "how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Zelda lied, "a little thirsty is all…"

Silence fell over the two heroines once more.

Hours passed.

Urbosa's arms, pinned behind her, would occasionally go numb, the ropes pressing into the nerves. The pain in her shoulders was a dull throb compared to the sharp agony between her legs, but it all mixed together into a single wave of unrelenting suffering. Her body trembled, sweat mingling with the rough rope fibers, slicking her beautiful clay skin but offering no relief. There was no escape from the biting ropes or the cutting edge of the beam, only the endless torment of both intertwined. Zelda's skin, already raw from the ropes, began to chafe against the wood. The grinding friction made her squirm, but every shift only amplified the torment. The rough texture of the beam scraped at her inner thighs and sensitive skin, leaving her feeling as though her body was tearing apart under the strain. The added torment of time made her own weight drag her down harder onto the wooden horse, forcing her deeper into the sharp, punishing point. Her muscles burned with exertion as she tried to resist the pull, but her body betrayed her—each breath now a shallow pant as the pain radiated from her groin in relentless waves.

The hours dragged on like a slow-moving storm, each moment bringing a fresh wave of agony that seemed to pull them deeper into the dark pit of suffering.

Zelda had lost track of time. Her sense of reality blurred, consumed by the relentless torment that twisted through her fragile form. Her body, once tensed and fighting against the bindings, had slumped into a state of surrender. The shibari ropes cut into her flesh, creating deep red grooves along her arms, chest, and torso. Her skin, where not rubbed raw, was an angry shade of red, covered in marks and welts from hours of being held tightly in place. In some areas, dark bruises had begun to form, especially along her upper arms and ribs, where the rope had pressed with merciless tension for far too long. Her arms had gone completely numb, the once biting sensation of the ropes giving way to a cold, deadened feeling in her limbs. The rope, which had once scratched and scraped at her skin, now pressed into her flesh like iron bands, cutting off blood flow and leaving her shoulders burning from their unnatural position. Her wrists, bound tightly behind her back, had begun to throb with a dull, relentless ache. Her chest was covered in a slick sheen of sweat, the tight ropes that crossed her breasts soaked through. Her ribs ached with the effort, as though her entire upper body was wrapped in a vice that squeezed her tighter with every passing minute.

But Urbosa had it much worse. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, the muscles completely drained from hours of trying to support her gerudo weight. The sharp edge of the wooden horse had driven deep into her flesh, cutting into the tender skin of her groin and inner thighs. The pain, which had once been sharp and searing, now radiated as a dull, throbbing burn, like a slow poison spreading through her lower body. The skin around her pelvis felt bruised and battered, swollen and aching from the constant pressure of the narrow beam. She no longer had the strength to lift herself, to even attempt to relieve the terrible pressure. The beam dug deeper, unrelenting in its cruelty, pressing against the soft, sensitive flesh with agonizing persistence. Her head hung forward, her sweat-drenched red hair sticking to her face in messy, matted strands with only her beautiful clear eyes showing through. Her face, now a pale brown and drawn, looked almost hollow from the exhaustion and pain. Her lips were chapped and cracked, parted slightly as she struggled to catch her breath in shallow, uneven gulps. Her body had passed beyond the point of immediate pain and into a numb, hazy state of endurance. She blinked slowly, her vision blurring, her mind drifting between reality and a half-conscious state of delirium. She was a prisoner not just of the ropes and the wooden horse, but of her own exhaustion and suffering.

An entire day passed.

Zelda’s vision swam, her head hanging forward as her blond, sweat-soaked hair clung to her forehead and cheeks. The rope felt like fire against her skin, the fibrous strands biting into her arms and chest. Her once-tense body had slumped into a state of resigned agony, her thighs trembling uncontrollably as they pressed against the narrow beam, the sharp edge cutting relentlessly into the soft flesh between her legs. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she last tried to lift herself from the torture—her muscles had long since given up, leaving her no choice but to endure the ceaseless pressure.

But the worst part wasn’t her own pain. It was hearing Urbosa’s labored breathing behind her.

Urbosa, strong and broad-shouldered, leaned with her back against Zelda’s, their bodies tied in identical knots. The rope pressed into her muscular frame with even more vicious precision, every muscle strained against the unforgiving binds. Her arms, pinned tightly behind her, bulged as they trembled with the effort to stay upright, but the weight of her body worked against her. The sharp ridge of the wooden horse cut into her even more deeply than it did Zelda, her heavier frame forcing her down harder onto the narrow, unforgiving edge. Zelda could feel Urbosa’s back against hers—strong, solid, but trembling with barely contained agony. Every now and then, Urbosa shifted slightly, trying to relieve the crushing pressure between her legs, but each movement sent a new wave of pain through both of them. Zelda felt Urbosa’s shoulder blades dig into her as the gerudo woman tried to adjust, a muffled grunt of pain escaping her lips.

“Urbosa…” Zelda’s voice was a raspy whisper, barely audible. She swallowed hard, her throat dry and raw. “I… I’m sorry…”

Urbosa didn’t respond immediately. Her breaths were slow, labored, and Zelda could hear the strain in each exhale. When she finally spoke, her voice was thick with exhaustion and pain. “No… don’t…”

Zelda blinked back tears, the salty droplets mixing with the sweat on her face. She couldn’t see Urbosa, but she could picture the grimace of pain etched across her lover’s features—the tension in her strong jaw, the strain in her bluish-green eyes.

Behind Zelda, Urbosa let out a pained groan as she shifted again, trying to ease the unbearable pressure on her groin. The movement sent a jolt through both of their bodies as their backs pressed harder together. Zelda could feel Urbosa’s muscles tense, her body shaking with the effort to hold herself even a fraction higher off the beam. But Urbosa’s strength was waning, her body slumping back into the inevitable pain that awaited her.

Zelda bit her lip, tasting blood, as she felt Urbosa’s body give up. Her larger lover sank lower onto the beam, the sharp edge digging deeper into her, eliciting a guttural sound of pain. It echoed through the room, bouncing off the cold walls, and Zelda’s heart clenched at the sound. She couldn’t see Urbosa’s face, but she could feel her suffering as clearly as if it were her own. Her own pain faded, dulled by the knowledge that Urbosa—her strong, fierce Urbosa—was in even greater torment.

They were both drenched in sweat, their skin slick where their bodies touched, but it offered no comfort. Every breath was a struggle, every moment a battle against the suffocating pain of the ropes and the merciless bite of the wooden horse. They were trapped in this shared torment, their bodies bound together but unable to offer solace to one another.

Then, from somewhere in the darkness, a voice slithered through the gloom.

"You thought you could get away with it, didn't you?"

The voice was cold, almost detached, carrying with it a calm malice that sent a chill crawling down Zelda's spine. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from—it seemed to echo from all around them, as if the very walls were speaking. Her body ached, her muscles burning from hours of immobility, but she lifted her head slightly, straining to hear the words.

"This," the voice continued, "is only the beginning."

Chapter Text

The first day broke over The Opal Spear with an eerie calm, the sea stretching out in every direction like a silent, endless expanse. The ship’s figurehead had a new ornament now—Mipha, bound by cruel ropes to the bow, her arms spread wide, her wrists chafed and raw from the rough fibers that held her fast in a crux position. Her once-perfect skin, now exposed to the relentless sun and salt air, was quickly losing its sheen, cracking under the elements that had once been her home.

For the first few hours, she had maintained her composure, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared out over the sea that was now so painfully close but unreachable. The wind whipped her hair across her face, and she could feel the spray of the waves on her legs, taunting her with the nearness of what she could no longer touch. She strained against the ropes, her muscles trembling with the effort, but there was no escape, no mercy.

Her body, tied and stretched against the wood, was beginning to wither. By midday, the sun was searing, its rays cutting into her skin like knives, leaving burns that blistered and peeled. The salt in the air only worsened the agony, drying her flesh until it felt like it would crack open. She could taste it on her lips—bitter, sharp—and each breath she took felt like inhaling fire.

The water, once her sanctuary, now seemed a distant, mocking presence. Mipha’s body screamed for water, for the life-giving element that had once flowed so freely through her veins. Every wave that broke against the ship’s hull was a cruel reminder of what had been taken from her. Her throat was dry, and she could feel her strength draining with each passing hour. The cruel irony was that she could see the water, smell it, taste it in the air—but it was no longer hers.

As the sun began to set on that first day, the fire in Mipha’s eyes had dulled, replaced by a haunted exhaustion. Her body sagged in the restraints, her head lolling forward as she lost the energy to hold herself upright. Her skin had begun to dry and crack, the burn of dehydration far worse than any punishment the pirates could have inflicted.

Beneath the deck, Link’s ordeal was no less cruel.

Crammed into the small punishment box, his body contorted unnaturally, he had spent the first hours in utter darkness, his arms tied behind him, his knees pressed to his chest. The heat inside the box was stifling, the air thick with his own breath and sweat, his chest aching from the lack of space to fully expand his lungs. He could hear the creak of the ship above, the faint laughter of the crew, and every now and then, the distant thud of boots walking across the deck.

The darkness was absolute, and in it, Link’s mind began to play tricks on him. His body was already bruised and battered from the torment he had endured at the hands of the crew, but now it was the claustrophobia that gnawed at him, the inescapable feeling of being trapped, crushed. Time became meaningless in the void, each moment stretching into eternity as his muscles cramped and spasmed, his body contorting in unnatural angles just to find some brief reprieve from the pain.

His thoughts drifted to Mipha. He tried to imagine her as she had been—glowing, radiant, laughing as she swam in the sea—but the image was quickly replaced by the knowledge of where she was now. His mind tortured him with visions of her suffering, lashed to the front of the ship, exposed to the merciless elements.

He could feel the ship’s movements, the gentle rocking that would have once been a comfort, but now it only reminded him that he was stuck. Buried. In the tight space, his breaths came shallow and ragged, his heart pounding as his mind screamed for freedom he couldn’t reach. Every shift of his weight sent a fresh wave of pain through his limbs, already cramped and blood-starved from being bound.

By the time the second day came, Link was delirious from exhaustion, the constant pressure on his joints turning into a dull, throbbing agony that never relented. His lips were cracked, his throat raw, but he had no voice to call out, no energy to even beg. The box was hot during the day, suffocatingly so, and at night, it became freezing, the cold seeping into his bones until he shook uncontrollably. Sleep came in fractured moments, stolen between the waves of pain, but it offered no solace—only brief respites before the nightmare resumed.

Above him, on the second day, Mipha’s condition had worsened dramatically.

The relentless sun had bleached her once vibrant skin, leaving it red and raw, peeling where the burns were most severe. Her lips were dry, cracked, and her throat felt like sandpaper. Every breath was a struggle, her chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. The wind no longer felt like a caress but like a whip, chafing her already wounded skin, tearing at her fragile form.

She could feel herself slipping away, her connection to the sea fading more and more with each hour she spent away from it. Her body, once a vessel of life and vitality, was now a husk, withered and fragile, each wave that splashed against the hull only a reminder of her slow, agonizing death. Her mind drifted in and out of consciousness, her thoughts becoming fragmented, incoherent.

The third day dawned, and with it came the final stretches of their torment.

Link had long since stopped trying to shift in the box. His body was numb, his mind clouded, barely able to hold onto any thoughts other than the agony of his cramped limbs. His wrists were raw where the ropes bit into his skin, his muscles locked in stiff, unnatural positions. He no longer knew how long he had been in there—time was a blur of darkness and pain, each hour indistinguishable from the last.

Mipha, meanwhile, had reached the very edge of life. Her body was gaunt, stretched too thin over her bones. Her head hung low, her eyes half-open, unfocused. Her once sharp features were hollow, her beauty twisted by the harsh elements. She no longer strained against her bonds—there was no strength left to do so. The ocean she loved was all around her, yet impossibly out of reach, and it called to her with every passing moment, but she couldn’t answer.

And so, they waited in their silent agony, two souls clinging to life by the thinnest of threads, both prisoners of the sea and of Captain Urbosa’s cruelty. As the ship sailed on, the only thing that kept them both alive, even in their suffering, was the knowledge that the other was still there—somewhere on that ship, still fighting, still surviving.

But how much longer they could endure was a question neither had the strength to answer.
The day was sweltering, the sea shimmering under the unforgiving sun as the crew of The Opal Spear went about their duties. But there was an air of anticipation now, a palpable excitement as two figures—barely recognizable as hylian and zora—were dragged from their respective prisons.

Link was the first to be hauled from below, the punishment box creaking as the pirates opened it with jeers and cruel laughter. His body spilled out onto the deck like a ragdoll, limbs stiff and twisted from three days of cramped confinement. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken, his lips cracked and bleeding from thirst and pain. His arms remained bound behind his back, his wrists rubbed raw and bleeding where the ropes had chafed his skin.

Link gasped for air, blinking against the blinding light after days in darkness, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. He tried to move, to push himself up, but his limbs refused to cooperate. The pirates laughed and kicked at him, pushing him around the deck as though he were a plaything.

Then came Mipha.

Untied from the bow of the ship, she was little more than a ghost of her former self. The once-glowing zora priestess had been reduced to a skeletal figure, her skin blistered and burned by the sun, her body emaciated from dehydration. Her fins hung limp and matted, her eyes dull and lifeless. When they threw her onto the deck beside Link, she collapsed instantly, unable to support her own weight.

The gerudo pirates gathered around them like vultures, their laughter ringing through the air as they circled the two lovers. They kicked dirt at Link, spat on the deck near Mipha, hurling insults and crude remarks. One of the women yanked Mipha's head up by her head fin, forcing her to look around, but all she could muster was a weak groan, her body too broken to resist.

“Look at them!” one pirate sneered, kicking Link’s side. “A pitiful sight, isn’t he? Barely a man left.”

Another laughed, squatting down to lift Link’s head by the chin, forcing his bleary eyes to meet hers. “What do you say, sailor? Still planning on running away with your little sea creature here?”

Link didn’t have the strength to respond, his body limp and trembling as they mocked him. His gaze flicked toward Mipha, and despite his agony, his heart broke at the sight of her—so frail, so near death. She lay motionless, her breaths shallow, her cracked lips barely parting as she whispered something inaudible.

He forced himself to crawl toward her, every inch a battle as his muscles screamed in protest. The gerudo watched, laughing harder as they saw the desperate movement. He reached her side at last, collapsing against her, his chest heaving as he laid his head next to hers. With a trembling hand, he touched her cheek, his fingers brushing against her sunburned skin, but even that small gesture took all the energy he had left.

Mipha opened her eyes, just barely. She gazed at him, her lips forming a faint smile—more in spirit than in appearance. With monumental effort, she shifted just enough to touch his hand with her own, her webbed fingers cold and weak as they interlaced with his.

They held each other, what little strength they had left devoted to this final act of defiance. It wasn’t much, just a touch, but it was theirs—something the pirates could never take from them.

The crew erupted in a fresh wave of laughter and scorn at the display. One pirate, with a wicked grin, nudged another and said, “Why don’t we tear them apart?”, raising her boot as if to kick Link once more.

Before the suggestion could be acted upon, a voice cut through the air, silencing the crowd.

“Enough.”

Captain Urbosa appeared, emerging from the helm like a dark shadow, her eyes gleaming with cold amusement as she strode toward the broken pair. The crew parted for her, falling silent as she approached. She stood over Link and Mipha, her boot tapping against the deck, her gaze taking in their ruined forms with an air of detached curiosity.

“Well,” she said, her voice smooth, almost mocking. “Look at the two of you. What a pathetic sight.”

She crouched down next to them, her fingers gently lifting Link’s chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. His eyes fluttered, barely able to stay open, his breath ragged. Urbosa tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that was anything but kind.

“Holding up?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

She turned her gaze to Mipha, who was barely conscious, her chest rising and falling in shallow, labored breaths. Urbosa’s fingers trailed over Mipha’s blistered skin, cruelly tracing the lines of her burns. “And you, my precious little zora. You thought the sea could protect you? That it would save you from me?” She laughed softly, standing up again, towering over them both.

The pirates watched in rapt attention, their laughter stifled but their eyes gleaming with the same cruel amusement as their captain.

Urbosa took a step back, folding her arms over her chest as she looked down at them. “You two have entertained me long enough,” she said, her tone suddenly cold. “But don’t think your punishment is over. No… I’ve yet to decide what to do with you.”

Link tried to speak, tried to plead, but his voice was nothing more than a cracked whisper. His fingers tightened around Mipha’s, holding her hand as though it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

Urbosa smiled, dark and triumphant, as she turned to her crew. “Take them back to their cells,” she ordered. “Let them rest—if they can. I’ll have more use for them soon enough.”

With that, the pirates moved in, grabbing Link and Mipha roughly, pulling them apart despite their weak attempts to cling to each other. The crew’s mocking laughter rang out once more as the two lovers were dragged away, helpless and broken, but still together in spirit.

Urbosa watched them go, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The game wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot.

Chapter Text

The days passed in a haze of pain and slow recovery for Link and Mipha. Their bodies were weak, but the Gerudo pirates, ever efficient, gave them just enough water and meager scraps of food to keep them from death’s door. Link’s limbs, once cramped from his time in the punishment box, had begun to loosen, though his wrists were still raw from the ropes. Mipha’s skin, once burned and blistered, had slowly started to heal, though the marks left by her time lashed to the bow of The Opal Spear would likely never fully fade. The water that had once given her life felt like a distant memory.

But as their bodies regained a fraction of their strength, they both knew the reprieve would not last.

It came in the dead of night, as the ship rocked gently on the waves. The door to their cell creaked open, and two of Urbosa’s crew stepped inside, their expressions dark, their hands rough as they grabbed the weakened lovers. Link, despite his bruised ribs and aching muscles, tried to fight back, his instinct to protect Mipha surging through him like fire. But he was no match for the crew, who easily restrained him, dragging him from the cell with ropes already binding his wrists.

Mipha was barely able to fight back, her eyes narrowing as she hissed weakly at her captors. Even in her fragile state, there was still a defiance in her, a spark of the wild river creature she once was. But like Link, her resistance was futile.

They were dragged through the narrow corridors of The Opal Spear, past the leering faces of the crew, until they reached Captain Urbosa’s quarters. The door opened with a heavy creak, and the air inside was thick with the smell of salt, perfume, and something darker—something oppressive. The room was grand, far more luxurious than any other space on the ship, with rich, dark wood lining the walls and a large bed dominating the center of the chamber. Its sheets were a deep crimson, plush and soft.

Urbosa was waiting for them.

She stood at the far end of the room, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement as the crew shoved Link and Mipha into the room. With a wave of her hand, she motioned for them to be brought to the bed. Without a word, the pirates forced Link down onto the mattress, binding his arms to the bedposts with ropes that cut into his wrists once more. Mipha was dragged to the opposite side, her wrists tied to the foot of the bed, her body trembling with weakness as she was forced to kneel on the floor, her face level with Link’s bound form.

Once they were restrained, Urbosa dismissed her crew with a casual flick of her wrist, her gaze never leaving her captives as the door closed behind the departing pirates.

For a moment, there was only silence—the gentle creak of the ship as it swayed on the waves, the sound of Link’s ragged breathing, the faint hiss of defiance from Mipha as she stared up at the captain with burning hatred.

Urbosa smiled, slowly, taking her time as she approached the bed. Her eyes flicked between Link and Mipha, a predator savoring the moment before the kill.

“I see you’ve regained some of your strength,” she purred, her voice soft, almost affectionate, but with an undercurrent of malice. “Good. I prefer my playthings when they’re at least somewhat responsive.”

She reached out, her fingers trailing down Link’s cheek with a mock tenderness, her touch featherlight. He flinched, trying to pull away, but the ropes held him fast. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, his muscles tensing as he struggled against the bindings, his eyes flicking to Mipha’s for just a moment, silently apologizing for what was about to happen.

Urbosa’s smile widened as she noticed the look. “Ah, yes… I see you’re still trying to protect her,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “How sweet.”

She moved to the bed, sitting down beside Link, her fingers trailing down his chest now, her nails scraping lightly against his skin. He shuddered at the touch, his fists clenching in the bindings, but he couldn’t stop her. Mipha hissed again, her eyes narrowing, but she was too weak to do anything but watch.

Urbosa’s attention turned to Mipha then, her eyes gleaming with malice as she leaned closer to Link. “You see, my lovely little zora,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “I thought it might be fun to show you what happens when you defy me. You may have been strong once, but look at you now—broken, pathetic, a shell of what you once were.”

She ran her fingers through Link’s hair, her other hand slipping down to caress his chest, her touch languid and possessive. “And yet, despite all your weakness, he still cares for you. Isn’t that adorable?”

Link gritted his teeth, his body rigid with tension as Urbosa’s hand moved lower, trailing his abdomen. His eyes met Mipha’s, and in them, there was nothing but helplessness and fury, a silent plea for forgiveness. Mipha, though weakened, bared her teeth, “You don't deserve to touch him…”, but her captor paid her no mind.

Urbosa continued her slow, deliberate caresses, her hand now sliding onto Link’s hips, her nails lightly scratching his skin. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “I wonder how long you’ll last before you break… how long before she does.”

Her voice was soft, sultry, but every word was laced with venom, meant to wound, to humiliate. Link's manhood twitched slightly, becoming engorged.

Mipha’s eyes never left Link, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she watched the scene unfold. The sight of Urbosa’s hands on him, the casual cruelty in her touch, made her stomach twist with rage, but her body was too weak to fight, too drained to do anything but seethe in silence.

Urbosa pulled back slightly, her fingers still toying with Link’s skin as she looked down at Mipha, her smile widening into something cold and triumphant. “Do you see now, little priestess? You have nothing left. You can’t stop me, and he can’t save you. You’re both mine now.” With a slow, deliberate movement, she leaned back on the bed, her hand still resting possessively on Link’s chest, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she looked between the two of them. “You’ll both learn your place soon enough. I’ll make sure of it.”

Chapter Text

The air in the chamber was thick, stagnant, and suffocating. Heat radiated from the stone walls, amplifying the agony that had already stretched for endless hours. Zelda’s throat was dry, each shallow breath a struggle as she sat completely naked, immobilized in the garrote chair, its metal frame pressing into her spine with merciless precision. Across from her, Urbosa sat in the spiked iron chair, equally naked, her body slumped but tense, every muscle strained from hours of unmoving torture.

They had been left there for an entire day. Twenty-four hours of torment, strapped to these merciless instruments. The sweat on Zelda’s lithe body mingled with grime, sliding down her skin in slow, sticky streams, but it did nothing to cool her. Her back was arched, pinned in place by the garrote at her throat, which made every breath a careful, painful calculation. Her arms were tied at the wrist, resting in between the small of her back and the chair's backrest, and her legs were secured at the knees and ankles, rendering her completely immobile.

Her neck was raw, the thin wire of the garrote biting into her skin, not enough to choke her fully, but enough to make every breath a new layer of suffering, her delicate breasts rising and falling, covered in sweat. Her short blond hair was drenched in sweat and matted against her face. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her throat, each beat sending a jolt of pain through her body. It was a cruel reminder that she was still alive, still enduring this nightmare.

Her eyes were half-lidded, exhaustion tugging at her every thought, but across the room, Urbosa’s suffering was a beacon of strength—if she could endure it, so could Zelda.

Urbosa’s awesome body was a battlefield. The spiked iron chair was a medieval instrument of pure cruelty, its jagged metal points digging into her back, thighs, and arms with every shift of her weight. Each spike had embedded itself into her soft skin, leaving bruised indentations and trickles of blood in their wake. Urbosa’s large, beautiful breasts were stuck in a vice, pressing each orb, squeezing them painfully. Every slight movement sent fresh waves of pain through her body, but even now, she remained silent. Her body too, was covered in sweat and her beautiful dark red hair was matted to her neck and shoulders.

Zelda’s heart clenched at the sight of her lover. Urbosa’s eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and controlled, but Zelda could see the pain etched into every inch of her body. Blood had dried in streaks along her skin, and her muscles trembled involuntarily, as though her body was fighting against the torment but had nothing left to give. Urbosa had always been strong, both physically and mentally, but the spiked iron chair was designed to strip that strength away, leaving nothing but raw, unbearable agony.

For a moment, Zelda thought Urbosa might have passed out from the pain. But then, slowly, Urbosa’s eyelids fluttered open. Their gazes met, and in that moment, despite the hours of suffering, there was a connection—a silent conversation of shared torment and defiance. They didn’t need words. They hadn’t spoken for what felt like days, but their bond, forged through the fires of relentless torture, remained as strong as ever.

Zelda’s neck strained as she tried to move, just enough to alleviate the pressure from the garrote wire, but there was no relief. Her wrists, bound behind her, had gone numb hours ago, the circulation long since cut off. Her legs felt like they weren’t her own anymore, as if her body had separated itself from the pain in an attempt to survive. But every now and then, a sharp jolt of sensation would remind her that her body was still there, still suffering.

The heat in the chamber was suffocating. The air itself seemed to press down on them, making it harder to breathe, harder to focus. Every breath Zelda took was a struggle, the garrote digging into her throat just enough to make her feel like she was drowning in the heat, every gulp of air shallow and strained. Her skin was slick with sweat, her hair sticking to the sides of her face, and she could feel the unbearable stickiness of it pooling under her in the iron seat.

Urbosa, too, was drenched in sweat, her skin glistening under the low light. The spikes of the chair had torn small, angry wounds into her flesh, and each trickle of blood seemed to bring a fresh wave of heat, making it feel as if her skin was on fire. The weight of her body pressed down mercilessly on the spikes, and Zelda could see Urbosa’s jaw clench, her teeth grinding together as she tried to shift even the smallest bit to relieve the pressure. But there was no relief. Not in the chair, not in the heat, not in this place.

They had been left here to suffer, to weaken, to break.

But neither of them had broken yet.

Zelda’s lips parted, but no words came out—her throat was too dry, too raw. She wanted to tell Urbosa that they would survive this, that they would endure, but the words felt empty in the face of such agony. Instead, she focused on her girlfriend’s face, drawing strength from the fact that Urbosa was still here, still with her. Their shared suffering, as unbearable as it was, became a lifeline. They were together, and that was all that mattered now.

Urbosa opened her eyes again, and through the haze of pain, she gave Zelda the smallest nod—a gesture so subtle it might have been missed by anyone else. But to Zelda, it spoke volumes. They were still fighting. Still holding on.

A slow, agonizing hour dragged on, the heat pressing down harder, the pain relentless. The torture devices that bound them were doing their job well—draining their strength, eroding their will. Yet, through the crushing weight of exhaustion and suffering, neither of them had given up.

Zelda felt her vision blurring at the edges, the room swaying slightly as dehydration and fatigue clawed at her. But just as she was about to slip into unconsciousness, Urbosa’s voice—hoarse, broken—reached her across the room.

“We’ll… make it,” Urbosa rasped, her voice barely audible over the suffocating heat. “Together.”

Zelda wanted to respond, but the garrote wire tightened, silencing her. Instead, she met Urbosa’s gaze once more, the look in her eyes enough to convey what she couldn’t say: they would endure. No matter how long they were left here, no matter how much more suffering was heaped upon them, they would endure this together.

The heavy door groaned open, spilling a draft of cooler air into the room for just a moment before it slammed shut again. In the doorway stood a figure wrapped in shadow: Paya, her presence radiating a sadistic calm. She was dressed in a dark uniform fitted tight to her lithe frame and adorned with red cords all over, and there was a glint of cruelty in her sharp, predatory gaze.

“Still breathing, I see,” she purred, sauntering toward the two prisoners with a slow, deliberate pace. Her voice was smooth, almost gentle—like icicles. “Good. I love it when they last.”

She circled the room like a cat toying with its prey, her gaze flitting between Urbosa and Zelda. She stopped beside Urbosa first, tapping the armrest of the spiked chair with her gloved fingers.

"Such a strong one, aren’t you?" she murmured mockingly, trailing a hand down Urbosa’s sweat-slicked arm. "But strength won’t help you here. Not against these lovely spikes."

With a sick grin, she reached for the vice trapping Urbosa's breasts and twisted the mechanism with a sharp click. The iron spikes shifted, pressing deeper into Urbosa’s already shredded flesh. Urbosa’s body tensed instantly, her muscles rippling against the chains as a guttural scream ripped from her throat. Fresh rivulets of blood trickled down her back and thighs, staining the iron beneath her.

But even in her agony, Urbosa remained defiant. She ground her teeth together, breathing hard through her nose, her emerald eyes glaring with undiminished fury. She refused to speak, refused to beg—her silence a stubborn act of resistance.

Paya gave a low laugh, clearly amused by Urbosa’s defiance.

She turned her attention to Zelda, who sat rigid against the garrote chair, the iron collar biting deeper into her neck with every shallow breath. Paya tilted her head and smiled, a slow and predatory smile. "And you… such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?"

With a flick of her wrist, she tightened the garrote. The collar constricted mercilessly, cutting off Zelda’s airflow. Zelda gasped, her entire body convulsing as she fought for breath, the pressure in her head mounting like a drumbeat. Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden, but she forced them back, determined not to give this bitch the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"Come on," Paya whispered, leaning in close, her lips brushing the shell of Zelda’s ear. "I can hear that little scream trapped in your throat. Let it out for me."

Zelda let out a strangled, defiant cry, the only sound she could make with the collar crushing her airway. The Paya’s hand slid along Zelda’s thigh, her touch cold and invasive, designed to humiliate more than hurt. Zelda’s body jerked involuntarily, her chains clinking, little droplets of sweat flung from her modest chest, but she held herself still, forcing her expression into one of pure, silent hatred.

Paya sat on the bench of the garrote chair across from Zelda and began groping the princess. Fondling and kissing her exposed breasts. Zelda moaned and squirmed under her touch.

Undeterred, the Paya trailed her hand up to Zelda’s jaw, running her thumb across her bruised lips. "No? Not even a little whimper?" she taunted, giving the garrote another cruel twist.

Zelda’s entire body shook as the iron dug deeper into her neck, her pulse roaring in her ears. A garbled scream escaped her throat, but there was no submission in the sound—only rage and resistance. She locked eyes with Urbosa across the room, finding strength in her friend’s unyielding gaze. Even though they were bound, broken, and bleeding, they were still together. And that was enough.

The Paya gave a dramatic sigh, as if disappointed. "So stubborn," she said softly, shaking her head. "But that just makes this all the more fun."

She turned back to Urbosa, her hands roaming shamelessly over the bound woman’s frame, caressing every bruise and wound with mock tenderness. Paya playfully slapped her large, punished breasts and Urbosa’s entire body shuddered with the effort it took not to recoil. The spikes pressed deeper into her back, and she couldn’t stop the scream that tore from her throat—a raw, animalistic sound. But even through the haze of agony, she kept her jaw tight, her mind locked in iron focus. She wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t yield.

"You’re both so beautiful like this," Paya whispered, her eyes gleaming with cruel delight. "Writhing, hurting... but still trying so hard to fight."

She leaned in close to Urbosa, her breath hot against the other woman’s cheek. "You could make it easier, you know. Just give up. Surrender, and my master will make sure this will all stop."

Urbosa’s only answer was a low, defiant growl. The Paya grinned, as if pleased with the resistance, and gave the breast vice one final crank. Urbosa’s scream echoed through the chamber again, a sound filled with both fury and suffering, but she did not break.

The guard stepped back, admiring her handiwork, her expression one of cold satisfaction. "No matter," she said with a cruel smile. "I have forever to play with you two."

Zelda coughed, the garrote’s grip leaving her gasping for air, but she still managed to hiss between her clenched teeth: "You’ll never break us."

And with that, she gave both devices one more excruciating twist, savoring the sound of both women's screams as they echoed through the suffocating chamber—screams of agony, but never surrender.