One Piece : Start As Celestial Dragon And Take Down Hancock-Chapter 138: Lakeman’s domination. Shakky’s submission. (R-18)

Maybe it's over now...

But even as she closed her eyes, she knew deep inside—it wasn't.

"We're just getting started, my little slut."

The words slithered into Shakky's ears like poison, cracking through her dazed mind. Her breath hitched, but her body could no longer react in time.

THUD.

He flipped her over once more, slamming her bare back onto the sticky table. Her legs dropped open like a broken doll, exposing her ravaged cunt and gaping asshole—both holes drooling with thick, hot cum.

Lakeman grinned at the obscene sight.

Squelch.

His cock, still slick from her throat, pressed against her ruined pussy lips.

SHLP.

He drove back in with one punishing thrust.

"Aaaahh—!" Her cry was hoarse, nothing but a rasp of breath.

PAP.

PAP.

PAP.

The sound of his hips slamming into her ass echoed through the bar.

"Mmh"

The wet squelching of her overstretched pussy, the slap of skin on skin, and her breathless moans formed a symphony of pure depravity. fгeewebnovёl.com

Slap.

He smacked her thigh.

Slap.

He grabbed her tits, molding them harshly in his hands.

"Still tight. Even after everything," he muttered, voice low and guttural.

Her head rolled back, hair sticking to her sweaty face. Her eyes were unfocused, her lips parted, drool trailing down her cheek.

Hour 2 — Pinned to the Wall

CRACK.

Bottles shattered as he shoved everything off the shelf and pinned her to the wooden wall. Her back hit the surface with a thud, her legs spreading wide as he lifted her effortlessly.

FWMP.

His cock found her ass again—tight, sore, clenching—but it didn't stop him.

SPAK.

"Aaaahhhnn—!"

PAP. PAP. PAP.

He thrust upward violently, lifting her body with each stroke. Her breasts bounced against his chest, her voice reduced to gasping, gagging sobs between moans.

Her nails scraped down his back, her body spasming as her overstimulated nerves sent shocks through her.

SLAP.

He smacked her face lightly, keeping her conscious.

"Say it. Who do you belong to?"

She sobbed through clenched teeth. "Y-you..."

"Louder."

THRUST.

"YOU! MASTER LAKEMAN!"

Hour 4 — On the Floor

THUD.

He dropped her on the floor, limbs sprawled and twitching. Without pause, he dragged her legs apart and sank into her abused cunt again.

SPLRK.

Cum gushed out as he entered, mixing with fresh wetness.

PAP.

PAP.

PAP.

He plowed her deep, his balls slapping wetly against her ass. The sound was sticky and harsh—flesh smacking against flesh, wetness squelching out with every thrust.

Her voice was gone. Only helpless whimpers escaped now.

"Even broken, you still grip me like a whore made to be fucked."

He spat on her back and slapped her ass again, making her jolt.

Hour 6 — Stussy's Turn

Shakky went limp.

Unconscious.

Eyes shut, mouth open, body twitching—her holes still stretched and leaking.

Lakeman stood over her, cock still throbbing.

"Stussy."

Tap. Tap.

She stepped out of the shadows, naked, flawless, obedient.

He didn't speak.

She dropped to her knees and began licking his cock clean, swallowing every drop Shakky couldn't.

Then he shoved her down on the floor, took her from behind, and used her with quick, punishing thrusts.

PAP.

PAP.

PAP.

"Oooh"

"Aah"

Her moans echoed like music. "Yes, Master. Use me. I exist for this."

Pah

Pah

Hour 7 — Back to Shakky

As soon as Shakky stirred—

"Gghh—!"

He grabbed her hair and dragged her back up. Her eyes fluttered open just as his cock forced its way down her throat again.

SLRP.

GLK. 

GLK. 

GLK.

Her throat pulsed. Her jaw ached. Her lips formed a tight ring around his shaft as he used her mouth like a cunt.

SPAK. 

SPAK.

He slapped both her cheeks while fucking her throat.

"Ghk—Ghhkkk—!"

Tears streamed freely now.

She couldn't resist.

Couldn't think.

Hour 8 — Final Round

He laid her on the countertop again.

Arms splayed. Legs limp. Hair stuck to her sweaty face. Her body completely still.

SHLP.

He slid inside one last time, slow, deep, deliberate.

PAP. 

PAP. 

PAP.

He gripped her wrists. His chest pressed to her back. His cock drove deeper and deeper.

"Mine."

Pah. Pah. Pah.

"Not Rayleigh's."

Samck.

"Only mine."

NNGH—

He exploded inside her again, hot and heavy, pumping his final load deep into her womb. Her belly twitched from the pressure. Her breath shuddered.

Morning

Drip. 

Drip. 

Drip.

Cum spilled from her abused holes, pooling on the bar's polished wood.

Shakky lay naked, motionless on the counter—arms out, legs parted, mouth slack, every inch of her covered in cum, sweat, and bruises.

Her bar and pride are now reduced to a den of Lakeman's filth and conquest.

He stood beside her, sipping from her own bottle of rum, surveying his work with a satisfied smirk.

"Now that's how a slut should be broken."

She had received the unrelenting grace of Saint Lakeman for nearly twenty hours—since noon yesterday, until the pale blush of dawn touched the horizon.

Her body and her will had long since surrendered, shattered beneath the sheer weight of his domination.

She had been used—no, she had been claimed—like property, like a toy, like a hole made to serve.

After all, she was a slave now.

And a slave's body existed for one purpose: to serve the pleasure of her master.

She lay unconscious, naked and sprawled, her body twitching faintly in the aftershocks of her ruination. Her neck and breasts bore thick clusters of bite marks—angry red and purple, darkened like bruises that branded her as Lakeman's possession.

Her entire form was painted in the remnants of his lust.

Her breasts, her thighs, her navel, her face—even her hair—were glazed with thick streaks of white cum. Some parts had dried, forming crusted trails across her skin. Others remained sticky and warm, releasing a pungent, lewd scent that filled the room with heat and shame.

Slurp.

Slurp.

Lakeman sat lazily on the bar table, his powerful form bathed in dim light, staring at the unconscious Shakky like an artist admiring a masterpiece.

His cock—still half-hard, still glistening—rested against the lips of his ever-obedient spy.

Stussy knelt between his legs, her blonde hair held by Lakeman as her lips wrapped tightly around his shaft.

She took him slowly, reverently, letting him sink deep into her throat as she worshipped him with her mouth.

"Mmmnn..." he groaned, tilting his head back, his fingers tightening in her hair.

She moaned around his cock as he emptied himself again—thick, potent milk sliding straight into her throat.

She swallowed without hesitation, not spilling a single drop.

With a slow pop, she pulled back and licked her lips, eyes rising to meet his.

"Master, you've been working on this slut Shakky since yesterday afternoon... perhaps you should rest for a while and sleep?"

Lakeman gave a satisfied exhale, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You're right. Clean us all."

Stussy rose gracefully, her nude form shimmering in the low light. She leaned down and carefully lifted Shakky into her arms, her movements practiced and delicate despite the weight of the woman broken by hours of debauchery. Lakeman followed them as they headed toward the bath.

In the Bathroom

Warm steam curled through the air as water filled the marble tub. Stussy gently lowered Shakky into the water, supporting her back and limbs as she slowly stirred.

Her eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, her gaze was empty—hollow.

Then she saw Lakeman sitting in the water, stretching out his muscular arms along the edge, relaxed and regal.

And beside him, Stussy was already lathering herself, her breasts pressed softly against his chest as she began to wash him with loving care.

Shakky blinked slowly. Her arms trembled. But then a thought settled in her mind.

'He has used every inch of me. My holes, my body... my pride. What is there left to hesitate for?'

Silently, obediently, she crawled to the edge of the bath, slid into the water, and joined Stussy.

Together, the two women bathed their master.

Their fingers moved carefully across his strong chest and abdomen, trailing soap and warm water over his skin. Shakky washed his legs, his arms, and finally his cock—her touch timid at first, but growing steady.

Lakeman said nothing.

He simply reached out and fondled their breasts—both of them at once—squeezing and rubbing lazily, his cock twitching back to life again.

Even after hours of nonstop fucking, he remained insatiable.

In Shakky's Room

The three of them returned to Shakky's room, their bodies damp and flushed, skin smelling of oils and sweat. Naked, they collapsed onto the mattress, limbs tangled together.

Stussy curled up against his left side, resting her head on his chest. Shakky pressed against his right, her thighs brushing his as her face settled near his neck.

Lakeman's arms slid over both women, holding them possessively. His hands wandered idly, stroking thighs, tracing curves, cupping full breasts.

Even now, even in exhaustion, he wasn't finished.

One squeeze led to a kiss.

A kiss led to a moan.

Fingers drifted lower, sliding between damp folds. Before long, bodies shifted, hips moved, lips parted.

A new storm erupted.

The room was filled with wet sounds—skin slapping, tongues exploring, moans echoing into the sheets.

He took both of them in turns, riding their exhausted bodies into submission once more.

Two more hours passed in another haze of lust. After which they all fell into deep sleep.

When he awoke again, the soft sound of crickets hummed outside the window.

It was night.

But something was different.

A pleasurable surprise.

When Lakeman stirred from his deep, satisfied slumber, the first sensation that greeted him was warmth.

Wet, tight warmth—sliding over his shaft with slow, deliberate strokes.

His cock pulsed, already deep inside something soft and snug. At first, he assumed it was Stussy—ever the eager, slut—tending to him the moment he awoke.

But as he blinked the haze from his crimson eyes and lifted his head slightly, the sight before him made him pause.

It wasn't Stussy.

It was Shakky.

She knelt between his legs, her black hair disheveled, her lips wrapped around his cock as her head bobbed with slow, deliberate rhythm.

Her throat flexed each time she took him deeper, her eyes closed, her expression strangely serene, focused, submissive.

Each time she pulled back, her lips dragged along his shaft, coated with spit.

Then she plunged back down, taking him deeper into her throat, her nose nearly touching his pubic hairs.

Lakeman stared in silence, a smirk curling on his lips.

'Where am I? Is this really the same Shakky?'

'The same stubborn bitch who would've chosen death before becoming my sex slave? The one who only submitted because she was weaker and knew she couldn't beat me?'

His thoughts churned with amusement.

'She knew if she ran or resisted too hard, I might summon a Buster Call on Amazon Lily... wipe it from the map completely. That was the only reason she obeyed yesterday—because I was stronger. Because I could destroy everything she cared about.'

Even as he'd plowed her mercilessly, she clung to scraps of defiance. Her eyes would still flare in resistance, her voice would still rasp out curses between screams.

But now?

Now she was waking him up with a morning deep throat.

Voluntarily. On her own.

'So this is the bitch who once snarled at me... now quietly worshipping my cock like a trained pet.'

He groaned softly, fingers threading into her black hair as he guided her rhythm.

Whether she still hated him didn't matter.

What mattered was this: until she found a way to protect every last soul on Amazon Lily, she wouldn't dare act recklessly. She wouldn't risk defying him. She would be his obedient fuck toy.

And so, Lakeman relaxed fully, sinking back into the pillows and letting her throat embrace him.

Warm. Tight. Submissive.

He closed his eyes and let the sounds of her slurping fill the room.

Slurp. 

Slurp. 

Ghlkk. 

Slurp.

Letting his broken little slave show how far she had already fallen.

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