This story takes place shortly after the fall of Gnomeregan. All characters are assumed to be of legal age.
*****
Shannon Knocksprocket hated Ironforge. It was not the home she wanted but it was the home she had. Gnomes were dispersed over all the world after the fall of their capital city of Gnomeregan. Still it was better to live here in the Dwarven capital than someplace like Stormwind or Dalaran. Fewer elves and humans meant less strain on her neck. Ironforge too had a huge population of gnomes. Yet to live comfortably you had to have an income and Shannon had just lost hers. She'd lost her temper when a human customer had offered her money to perform a sex act on him. The fellow's balls were level with her face and she'd punched him there as hard as she could. The pervert deserved it. She might be the height of a little human girl but no way in hell was she going to pretend to be one in his fantasy. Besides, she was fairly sure it would be painful to get fucked by a human male. Oh sure, she'd heard of girls doing it, but it still scared her. And Shannon was no virgin and believed herself far from a prude. Still, she had made love to only one gnome in her life and only twice at that.
Felix Geargrinder had proposed and they had made love. They had been happy. And then a trog had bashed his head in. Shannon had fled to Ironforge and struggled to survive. Oh, she'd never starve. No, gnomes took care of their own. There would always be a place to sleep and a meal. But surviving took more than food and shelter. It required purpose. Something to do and someone to do it for. That was what she lacked. The gnomes in Tinkertown were nice enough, but everyone had plenty of family. Shannon had none. An only child, and her parents had not lived to see her full grown. There were Knocksprockets all over the world. The small clan had moved to wherever they could find work. She was alone.
"Oh donkey balls! Now what do I do?" Shannon muttered as she sat on a low wall near the great forge.
"Do?" a voice answered.
Shannon jerked in surprise. An older female gnome stepped out of the crowd and sat next to her. Shannon hadn't realized she had been overheard. The woman had grey hair cropped quite short and dressed in rather worn, patched and darned mechanic's coveralls.
"Gertie Cabledown, pleased to meet you...?"
"Uh, Shannon, Shannon Knocksprocket."
"You look troubled Shannon Knocksprocket."
"Oh I just lost my job." Shannon replied.
"Do tell..." Gertie said and shook her head. "What happened?"
Shannon explained and the old gnome chuckled.
"Well on the one hand, it serves him right, the pervert. Of course on the other hand it would've been worth it. That kind is usually willing to pay big to get their jollies, especially if it involves something so... odd."
"But sex with a human!?" Shannon exclaimed. "That..."
"What?" Gertie looked at her and cocked her head. "Sex is sex. Granted human males are typically bigger than gnomish males, but not by that much. Most are about yea big." She indicated the length and girth with her hands. "Although they they think they're big, few actually are. Now Dwarves.. Oh no. A dwarf is about the same length as humans but twice as big around. A dwarven cock would wreck your pussy. And don't get me started on Elves. Long, slender, curving sabers for cocks. REALLY long! And the typical elf can fuck for hours, damn them. Hell, a girl gets bored long before they're ready to cum!"
Shannon sat there with her mouth hanging open. She had NEVER heard anyone talk so openly on the subject.
"But like I said, sex is sex. Doesn't matter so much who they are or how they want to do it. No, it's more important to know what YOU want before getting on board... pardon the pun." She chuckled, "Getting on, ha ha ha. Well, a pretty thing like you won't have trouble getting laid, if that's what you want. Not like ol' Gertie. No. Hell I had to take what I could get and that meant working the job sites. A tent and a cot. Fifteen, sometimes twenty silvers for a ten minute quickie. But the line was often long, especially at shift change."
Shannon gasped. "You were a...a..."
"Whore? Yup. Still am, if asked. But no one wants to fuck an old gal like me. No, I have a little place three levels down, off the tunnel to the airport. I have a few girls working for me and we do all right. They have a nice place to do business and I get 20% of their take. We'll never get rich, but we survive."
Gertie patted Shannon's knee. "Look, if you need a place to sleep, and maybe a meal... Well, you're welcome to drop by."
Shannon shook her head. "No way! I could never..."
"What? I never said you were under any obligation. The invite is free. My employees are nice girls and would love the company. You just think about it."
Gertie got up and shuffled off, blending quickly into the traffic as Shannon sat there, still baffled by the old gnome's casual treatment of the subject.
Two days passed as Shannon tried to find work. But with the influx of refugees and most of them skilled workers she couldn't even get a job as a waitress in any of the taverns. Some had suggested that she try the Ironforge Airport, and on her way there she saw the tunnel that she guessed must lead to Gertie's place. There were no jobs at the airport either and Shannon was hungry and exhausted when she reached the intersection again. She turned and headed down the branch tunnel and saw that it was lined with dwellings. There were a few small places and then one rather large spot. The larger one had lights burning out on the porch and shining from the windows.
Gertie was sitting in a chair by the door. She smiled as Shannon walked up, but frowned when the girl stopped at the bottom step.
"Come on Shannon, have a seat and a bite. You look hungry." she said as she lifted the towel from the table next to her. Shannon smelled stew. Gertie turned in her seat and hollered through the window, "Can someone bring me two mugs of ale?"
Shannon sat in the chair across from Gertie and picked up the spoon as the old gnome pushed the bowl closer.
"I take it you haven't found work yet?"
"No. Too many people, too few jobs. Unless you join the Army or Navy." Shannon answered.
"Not a tradesman?"
"No," Daddy taught me sales and I helped manage his little shop... til the trogs came."
"Tch, tch, tch... and they...?"
"Didn't live to see the trogs. My parents went to buy exotic goods for the shop and the ship was lost. Only one boat of survivors was found...they-they never made it off before it sank."
Through the open doorway came a female dwarf with two mugs. She sat them on the table and smiled at Shannon, but didn't linger. She didn't look like a whore, or at least they way Shannon thought whores looked. She seemed perfectly normal in every way.
"That's Mary," Gertie said, "and yes, she's one of my girls. You shouldn't stare."
"Sorry." Shannon replied.