#dub.con

“I’m scared…Daddy…please help me.”

Your skin is smooth under his gloved hands, this much he can tell; he could appreciate it if the circumstances had been different. But under these circumstances it is anything but arousing. This is business, nothing more. A show; for you, for your father, for his bosses, for anyone who watches this little video. He knows you are scared of him, scared of what he might do to you, how far he could go. But Sakazuki has no intentions of raping you. He does have very little qualms when it comes to various criminal acts but one thing he does not see any appeal in is forcing himself onto women. This does not mean he feels bad about traumatizing you, however. 

Your whimpering becomes louder when his hand travels underneath your shirt, his fingers following every little bump of your ribcage agonizingly slowly until they reach the wire of your bra. You squirm underneath him, calling out to your father as the fear of what must inevitably happen nestles in every fiber of your being. Sakazuki simply watches you through the small holes of his mask – the trademark mask that’s become famous over the decades and that’s been associated with the yakuza group he’s part of. He knows it strikes fear into the bones of anyone who sees it; it haunts the dreams of children and adults alike. 

He leans down on you, his weight pressing your body harder into the mattress and the cool plastic of the dog mask grazes the side of your face. You freeze, eyes wide open in fear, pupils blown wide, waiting for what will come next. His pelvis is pressing against your soft bottom; he is not hard but he doubts you’ll notice this, too preoccupied with the threat of violence alone through this gesture. You whisper a silent “please” only he can hear but it doesn’t reach his heart. 

Your pleas grow louder when his fingers probe alongside your bra, testing the resistance of it as he tries to nudge one finger between your skin and the wire. He can feel the soft underside of your right breast, the tip barely gracing it but he won’t go further. With a grunt he retrieves his hand and sits up straight again, his other hand slowly releasing your hair as well, then, he gets up and walks over to the phone and stops the video, leaving you a crying, sobbing mess. He turns his head to look at you; you are dry heaving and gasping for air but apparently your stomach is empty. Probably haven’t eaten anything today yet. Maybe he should bring you something later when you’ve calmed down. 

“Put your pants back on.” He tells you in his cold voice while he packs up the tripod and phone, then unlocks and opens the door to stow away the items. He opens a chat on a messenger app and sends the video. Now, his part is done for now and this means waiting for further instructions. He sees the small check indicating that the video has been received, then he turns off the phone, stowing it away in a bag from where he retrieves another phone. A quick look at the screen tells him he has two missed calls. He’ll call back when he has you tied to the bad again.

Sakazuki walks back to your room purposefully and finds you curled up in a corner, pants back up and arms wrapped tightly around your knees. You shriek when he takes two long strides over to you, grabs you again by your biceps and shoves you rudely back onto the bed. He contemplates to just tie you back to the bed by force but decides to give you a chance to comply. 

“Put your hands back up.” He orders, his tone leaving no room to argue. With slight hesitation and fearful eyes, you eventually do as he says and without any issues he ties the chain of the cuffs back to the bedpost. He ignores your trembling hands, there is nothing he can or wants to do about that. 

“Smart girl,” he praises you but the sarcastic tone in his voice is not lost on you. Yet, you keep your mouth shut, your eyes on him like a prey watching a predator. Without saying another word, he turns around and leaves your room again, mentally already at the phone call he is about to make. 

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You wake up from a nightmare with a scream; you can still feel the haunting touches on your body, how they grabbed you, how they ravage your skin with claws, their jaws tearing at your flesh, faceless monsters that threaten to devour you wholly. 

The room is dark, not even the street lights reach your room, the stars are covered by thick clouds and the rain is hammering against the window. 

It takes a moment for you to realize where you are but the cuffs around your wrists quickly remind you of the horror you had to endure. 

There is silence; no sound reaches your ears from beyond the closed bedroom door but there is a small ray of light coming through the space underneath the door. 

You face feels wet and sticky and you are sure that you’ve been crying in your sleep. It was a miracle you even managed to fall asleep in the first place but your body must’ve forced you into it as a reaction of all the stress. Your limbs feel stiff as you try to adjust your position and awkwardly sit up in the bed. You feel cold; there is no blanket nor a pillow nor seems to be any heating. You pull your legs to your torso to save some body heat but it is quite ineffective.

You wipe your face on your shoulder, trying to get rid of the itchy feeling of dried tears and snot from your skin, then blink a couple of times. Your eyes slowly start to get used to the darkness but it does nothing to help ease your churning mind. You lean your head against the wall and your hands grip your arms tightly, nails digging into your soft flesh. You feel helpless and alone and want nothing more than be at home with your parents, all of you cuddling together on the sofa as if this whole thing has never happened. But the reality is different. You have been kidnapped, humiliated, degraded, almost raped, and left to fend for yourself. You’ve never felt truly hopeless before but right now there is no other way to describe it. After all, being at the mercy of a man you do not know and who is a career criminal at that can only make you feel hopeless. 

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The door opens and you expect Akainu to enter but you are surprised to be greeted by a tall, slender looking man. You can’t make out his face as the light from the hallway blinds you but he appears to be wearing glasses. Instinctively, you press your body closer to the wall, trying to create distance between you and the new threat. 

“Oh my, what a tragic sight to behold.” He speaks slowly, almost dragging his words, as if this whole situation bores him. He slowly makes his way over to you, his hands holding a bottle of water with a straw and something else you can’t quite make out. The man sits down next to you nonchalantly and offers you the beverage. You look at him warily, waiting for him to say something, or rather to trick you and do god knows what to you. But he doesn’t. 

“Hmm, are you not thirsty?” he asks genuinely surprised yet there is something in his tone you can’t quite pinpoint out that makes you feel uneasy. You are completely out of your depth, didn’t expect this at all. Where Akainu seemed to be impatient and easily annoyed does this man seem to be the complete opposite, without any care in the world. Speaking of, where is this monster who tormented you earlier, anyway? You cautiously look past the man to the empty corridor, expecting Akainu to appear any moment. The man doesn’t follow your gaze, he just cocks his head to the side, beverage still in hand in front of you. 

“He had to go and take care of some business. I’ll keep you company in the meantime.” 

Your eyes dart back to him, not believing him a single word. He gives you a bad feeling. You don’t know what exactly it is; maybe the way he talks or the way he behaves but you already know he is not someone to be trusted lightly. Regardless, you do feel thirsty, now that you see the water right in front of you. After a second of contemplation, you reach out for the water with your bound hands and almost Immedeatly start downing the liquid. You hear him chuckle at that but otherwise he remains silent for now. When you emptied it, he takes the empty bottle away and instead offers you a melonpan. You devour it almost greedily and when you finish it you are not nearly satisfied, your stomach protesting at the minimal amount of food you have given it, demanding more. Your tongue licks the sugar from your licks, trying to get every last particle of food. 

“Seems like someone is hungry. Would you like another one?” Surprised by his question, you halt for a moment, then nod, not trusting your voice just yet. He grabs the wrapping paper, then stands up.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t want you to starve under my watch now, do I?” and with that, he saunters out of the room and along the hallway, leaving you confused but slightly more at ease there until his return. 

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Akainu returns the next evening to your dismay. However shady the other man – you still don’t know his name – is, you prefer his company over Akainu’s. He even let you go to the toilet by yourself and did not tie you back to the bedpost, he didn’t even lock the door when he brought you back to the room. Either his head is in the clouds or he simply doesn’t care. Either way, you appreciate the small extra freedom he had given you. He even gave you a blanket when you asked him. He tried to have small talk with you; you feared that, if you did not give him at least a little, he could take everything away from you again. So, you remained polite yet distant, trying not to upset the man. He asked you about your studies, your personal life, your dreams and whatnot. What creeped you out, however, was how much he already knew about you. Whenever you tried to tell him a lie, he would correct you which made you wonder for how long they’ve been spying on you and your family. It left a nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

You are dozing on the bed, already haunted by the same dream of the monsters in your sleep when you hear the apartment door slam shut and angry yelling coming from outside the bedroom. You immediately sit up straight, body tense in fear as you try to listen what he is so furious about. You can only hear the occasional word but miss the whole picture. Apparently, his subordinates messed up and he had to clean up after them. You remain silent, not wanting to attract his attention and possibly re-directing his anger at you. Who knows what he’d do to you. Also, you do not want to lose your new-found “freedom” and have him tie you to the bed post again. 

Your stomach sinks when you suddenly hear heavy footsteps approaching your room fast, then the door swings open and the monster of a man stands in the doorway. You freeze and hold your breath, hoping he’d simply overlook you but his eyes narrow. A second shadow appears behind him and Akainu looks at the other man. 

“Why the fuck is she not tied to the bed, Borsalino?!” he yells, he clenches his fists as if he wants to throw some punches; either at Borsalino or you. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you don’t dare to make a sound, hoping Borsalino would defend you in some way. 

“Oooh, now that you mention it. It must’ve slipped my mind.” He simply says, a lazy smile on his lips. Akainu’s hands twitch, ready to beat the living shit out of the other man. What shocks you the most, however, is the fact that Borsalino does not seem fazed in the slightest by Akainu’s reaction which makes you wonder how dangerous this man really is that he doesn’t seem to feel an ounce of fear in the face of this monster. 

“Quit fucking around. I know you did it on purpose.” Akainu presses out but he does not attack the other man. Instead, he focuses his attention back on you which makes you whimper just from his stare.  “Don’t be so harsh, Sakazuki, she’s been behaving splendidly while you were gone. Haven’t you, dear?” the last question is directed at you but your throat feels like it’s being choked and you can’t seem to form a single word, not even nod. 

“See how you’re scaring her? This is not very gentleman-like.” This is surreal; the way Borsalino seems to scold Sakazuki and how he still does not attack him. Either, they are good friends or Borsalino is just as much of a monster as Sakazuki.

“I told you to keep her restrained. Next time you disobey my orders there’ll be consequences.”

“Ooh, scary,” Borsalino raises his hands in mock-defeat but Akainu, despite being obviously furious with him, leaves it at that and instead marches over to you, grabs your handcuffs and ties you back to the bedpost. His brown eyes bore into you like drills and you feel how hot tears start to gather in your eyes. You can see it in his eyes that he wants to hurt you, hurt anyone really and you are glad he doesn’t for whatever reason. Without another word, he turns around and leaves the room, the door slamming shut behind him. 

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Borsalino seems to have left after that night and you are mostly left alone which you appreciate. Every once in a while, Sakazuki comes to look after you, even giving you water and food and giving you some privacy on the toilet without asking. But there is this tension between the two of you that keeps you on edge. You can see that he is angry; he is like a volcano, ready to erupt and destroy everything in his path. You are certain that it only needs a little push – a small rock that accidentally falls into the crate – until his wrath comes down on whoever is in his proximity. You just hope it won’t be you that’ll be destroyed. 

Whenever you see him, he spends a lot of time on his phone and each time his body tenses a little bit more. You are scared to ask him for food, for water, or to let you go to the toilet. Only when it becomes unbearable do you call for him. But besides being angry has he not done anything to you after your first night. You want to ask him what will happen to you, if he’ll let you free but you don’t, too scared to hear an answer you are not ready to hear. 

 Today marks the fourth night if you are correct. You dread every night anew, hoping your dreams won’t haunt you yet again though you know the beasts will come for you for the rest of your life. It is raining again and the sound of the rain drops tapping against your window makes you sleepy yet it also reminds you that you should go to the toilet before you go to sleep. You have no idea what time it is but you can still see the dim light from underneath the door shine into your room. Akainu is still awake. So, you call out for him. 

It takes three attempts to get his attention; he opens the door annoyed and with his phone pressed against his ear, his eyes piercing you like a dagger. Without a word and due to what could be assumed to be your routine by now, he unties you and rudely shoves you towards the door. You stumble but catch yourself before you hurry to the toilet. He doesn’t follow you; he speaks to the other person on the phone, pacing through the apartment, his tone becoming gradually angrier. You don’t want to piss him off even more, so you hurry out right after you’re done. But you don’t see him; he is not in the hallway. You should simply go back to you room and wait for him there but curiosity gets the better of you. 

You tippy-toe over the wooden floor and follow the sound of his voice. The hallway leads to a spacious yet unfurnished room which could potentially become a living room in the future. Akainu is standing with his back turned towards you as he rages on, berating whoever is on the other side of the line. The door to the apartment is to your right, about three steps. You contemplate if you could make it there without him noticing. You probably could given how preoccupied he is with the phone call. And then what? The door is probably locked and even if it isn’t, who says that you could actually run from him? The small light of hope that started to blossom in you is cruelly crushed by reality. 

You take a step back, ready to go back to the room when your heel bumps against a bag you didn’t see before. Sakazuki spins around, his eyes land on you in an instant. You freeze like a deer in headlight and watch as his already angry face becomes even darker at the realization that he wasn’t paying attention to you. His grip on the phone tightens and with horror you watch as it crushes the device with seeming ease until he lets it fall to the floor. 

You run back to your room as fast as you can, his heavy steps thundering through the apartment right behind you. You try to slam the door shut and push all your weight against it but he kicks the door open like it is nothing. You stumble forward and catch yourself on the bedframe before you climb onto it, hands held high in defense. You plead with him as he storms towards you, his breath heaving like an angry bull chasing a matador. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear,” you plea, bowing your head while you keep your hands above you, part as an apology and part as to protect yourself for any eventual punches. Sakazuki simply grabs both your hands in his and twists your wrists painfully, ready to snap some bones like he did with the phone. You scream in agony, looking at him through teary eyes, pleading for your life, apologizing for something that shouldn’t have been a crime in the first place. 

He is yelling at you but you can’t hear a word. The only thing in your mind is the pain and your survival. There is no way to calm him down for you; your pleas fall onto deaf ears and his own rage seems to blind him completely. Deep down, you know you are not the cause of his anger. You are simply the catalyst, the small rock that was carelessly kicked into the volcano and now you have to live with the consequences, have to find a way to escape your impending destruction, no matter the cost. 

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The stress and the bottled-up anger from the past couple of days, probably the past couple of months even, is now thrown directly at you. If he had been in a better mood, a better state of mind, a better whatever, he wouldn’t have attacked you, wouldn’t have let out his anger on you. But he isn’t. He is angry at his bosses for being incompetent, he is angry at his subordinates for messing up what should’ve been a simple task and for having him fix it, he is angry at Borsalino for never doing what he’s being told and he is angry at himself for letting all of this get to him, for not keeping a cool head. And then there is you; another nuisance he has to take care of because his bosses couldn’t even bribe the majority of politicians to do their bidding and now he and some others had to kidnap their family members, putting everyone at risk of exposure if one of the kidnapped decided to talk after their release after all. This could’ve all been avoided if they haven’t been so arrogant in the first place about their plan in the first place. For people who called themselves the Five Elders they sure as hell were quite stupid. 

He looks down at you with contempt but his grip on your hands loosens a bit until he lets go completely. Your look at him as if he wanted to kill you any moment, the fear palpable in your eyes, in your whole body. And maybe he would’ve killed you and if it was just to let all the stress out. He isn’t stupid, however. It would bring more problems as it would solve them. He just needs an outlet for his rage but in his current situation he doesn’t know where to focus his anger at. 

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath in, trying to sort his thoughts before he does something stupid. That’s why he is taken by surprise when he suddenly feels a pair of hands fondling with his belt. His eyes snap open and he watches in disbelief as you open it, your trembling hands immediately after reaching for the button of his pants, opening it, followed by his fly. It is as if he’s in shock, all the anger is blown away by confusion and amazement. What are you doing? You fumble to take out his limp dick; there is nothing erotic, nothing enticing about the way you do it. It looks methodical, almost robotic and the question of why you’re doing this is answered almost immediately – you are trying to calm him down. Under the stress he’s been feeling he didn’t even consider the stress you are under. Not, that it changes anything, but he can somewhat understand where you might be coming from. 

Your small hands wrap around the base of his dick while your tongue sheepishly peeks out from between your lips, testing the waters when you flick it against the tip. Your eyes dart up to his and he cocks his head to the side. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t know why he isn’t yelling at you. He can feel his blood rush slowly downwards, a reaction he cannot control. His hand finds the back of your head and he guides it. He watches as you take him in, your head bobbing forth and back, a steady rhythm that makes his muscles relax. He refrains from thrusting into your mouth, the occasional gag indication enough that he is already not a pleasant blowjob-experience for you. He wants to close his eyes, let all the stress from the past days, weeks, and months slowly wash from him but he can’t. Instead, he watches how small tears roll down your cheeks and disappear in the corners of your mouth where it is mixed with your saliva and him. 

I've been thinking about it.

Because for the longest time I've had this "fantasy" of being "molested" or even more... and I didn't know why that was so appealing to me, because why???? And they feel like very reprimandable thoughts. But I realized that I like the idea of it because it takes away the pressure of having to know what I'm supposed to do or think during a situation like that.

I've never done anything sexual with another person and I'm a suuuper anxious so in a weird way fantasizing about and reading "dub.con" or "non.con" is comforting in a weird way.

Idk (._. ) I guess I wanted to get this off my chest because it makes me feel bad.

The silence stretches, threatening to suffocate you if it isn’t broken. You feel exposed, like a piece of meat on a platter, ready to be devoured by a predator you can’t see but know is there. You pull your legs back up to your upper body, again trying to make yourself as small as possible and to break the silence with the sound of your body shuffling on the surface of the mattress. Then, you can hear a huff, finally a reaction from your captor, and the sound of footsteps walking away from you, presumably towards the door. First, you feel relief when you hear the click of the door being closed; finally, alone. Then, it hits you; the whole situation suddenly comes crashing down on you like a waterfall and you can’t do anything but take it. The tears start streaming down your face, disappearing into the thick fabric of the sack. You clench your hands into fists as you can’t stop your hectic breathing, hyperventilating with no means to calm yourself. Your lungs tighten and it feels like you can’t take any oxygen in, your head is spinning and you fear you’ll consciousness. You pull on your restraints but when you realize it is useless, you start to rub your head against the mattress, trying to get the sack off your head. Every breath you try to take in, the fabric seems to get caught in your mouth which increases your panic. Sweat starts to mix in with your tears, fear has now an iron grip on your body. You sob uncontrollably as you realize that you can’t get rid of the sack covering your head.

You don’t even notice that you apparently have been screaming nor that the door is opened again and angry sounding footsteps approach the bed. Not even when the cover is being pulled from your head are you aware of the other person in the room with you. Your eyes are wide open but you can’t see anything, black dots are dancing in front of your eyes from the lack of oxygen, your mouth agape like a fish out of water as your body is convulsing on the bed. The only thought that is stuck in your head right now is that you are going to die. . . . Ever since starting to study at the university of Tokyo, you had told your father that you did not wish to be taken to school by a driver. Your father, however, did not except this so you offered a compromise where you would be taken to school by a driver from your apartment but he’d drop you off one block away and you’d walk the last bit which takes around five minutes. To that, your father had agreed. This arrangement has been going well for the past two and half years and you were in your last semester of your bachelor’s degree of law. Top 10 in your grade with a promising future ahead once you also finished graduate school. Your father was more than proud of you, bragging to his colleagues about his lawyer daughter who was focusing on her studies and was not distracted by some boys in her class. Oh, if only he knew. You have been dating your boyfriend for almost two years; a science major who was now in graduate school and who was the best thing that has happened to you ever since starting your studies. Your driver has met him a couple of times before and you had to bribe him in order to keep his mouth shut. Apparently, he kept his word because even now your father seemed to be clueless about your relationship.

This morning, you were late. You didn’t hear the repeated calls from your driver announcing his arrival; only when he rang the bell to your apartment did you wake up. In a panic, you got ready and rushed downstairs, apologizing to him for making him wait. You took your place in the back seat and took out your phone, texting your boyfriend you’d meet him tonight after school.

At your usual drop off place, you got out of the car and hurried along the sidewalk. Your driver had offered to take you directly to your campus but you refused, thanked him, and then walked off. You texted your friend to save you a seat and got the confirmation reply within 20 seconds.

Your eyes caught the headlines of today’s newspaper: “A step closer to cracking down on organized crime”. Underneath was a picture of your father, looking all serious and proud. If only people knew what a goofball he was at home. You smiled to yourself, then stopped at a red traffic light, waiting for the signal to turn green. You took a quick look at your phone to check the time when you felt a light tab on your shoulder from behind.

Surprised, you turned your head to look at an elderly woman with a warm smile. It was rare in Tokyo to be talked to by strangers on the street unless they were touts so it took you a moment to realize what she wanted. “Dear, I’d hate to bother you but I forgot my phone at home and I need to contact my son. I know it is rude but I am quite in the predicament here.” You didn’t have time but you felt bad for her; you always had a soft spot for older people, especially if they could be your grandparents. So, despite being under time pressure, you smiled and offered her your phone. She gladly accepted, “this is too kind of you. I’ll be quick.”

You watched as she started typing in a number but apparently, she had trouble so you offered to type the number in for her but she refused. Slightly annoyed but keeping your composure you watched her as she finally pressed the green button and held the phone to her ear. It took a moment before someone accepted the call. “Yes, dear. I am at the corner where you agreed to pick me up but I can’t see you. Are you close?” The old lady started pacing a little while she was talking, even rounding the corner while the person on the other end seemed to be speaking. You sighed as you followed her, not wanting to lose her and your phone in the process. You tried to get her attention but she seemed to ignore you, instead looking around as if she was looking for someone. She took another couple of steps further down the almost empty street, her smile never wavering. Then, a car rounded the corner; a black van as far as you could see and she waved at the driver, then turned back to you. “Thank you so much, dear. You’re a life saver.” “No problem,” you extended your hand for your phone but she held on to it. “Are you a university student?”, she asked instead and you simply nodded, irritation slowly starting to grow inside you at her obliviousness. “Yes, and I am slightly in a hurry so I’d need my phone back, please.” “Oh, sure, my dear. I’m so sorry!” But she didn’t give it to you. The van stopped next to you and the driver’s door opened. A tall man exited the car, walked around it, holding a small bottle and a cloth in his hands. Instinctively, you made a step back as you took a quick glance at the old lady. “I am terribly sorry, dear,” she simply said, her smile never leaving her face. Then, all of a sudden, something was pressed in front of your face and before you could make a single thought, everything went black. . . . When the cold water hits you in your face, you wake up from your panic attack. Your eyes stare wide at the man in front of you who is looking at you in annoyance and with disdain as his big hand grips an empty glass, the pressure almost threatening to break it. “Get a grip and stop crying,” he barks, not affected in the slightest by your distress. You are too perplexed to reply, you can only look at him in shock. He is tall; too tall in combination with his muscular build. The fabric of his red suit stretches over his biceps and triceps like a second skin and his shoulders seem to want to burst through the fabric. In short, this man is built like an ox and is probably just as strong which does not help your fear in the slightest.

Without saying another word, he turns around and leaves you alone, taking the empty glass with him, the door closing behind him with an audible click. You blink confused. His casual dismissal of your panic attack makes you feel uneasy; there was no concern, no remorse, no nothing resembling sympathy in his tone. Only stone-cold annoyance, as if you are beneath him in some way.

You are alone. Wet. Frightened. But you can breathe again. . . . You are unsure how long you’ve been alone in this room. After you calmed yourself down enough, you started to look around. Other than the bed, there is nothing in this room except for a small window in the corner but you can’t look outside since the glass is frosted. You had contemplated to scream for help, but ultimately decided against it. This room seems to be part of a new building, judging by the smell and the clean walls, maybe not even entirely finished so there wouldn’t be any neighbors yet. Plus, you feared he’d come back and punish you for even trying. You tried breaking free from your restraints, too, but it was to no avail. You are left here alone, tied up like a present, and utterly and entirely helpless.

The light in the room starts to fade and you notice how your bladder is starting to burn. You need to pee. Now, you are hit with another dilemma. Should you call him or just…let it flow? You are half-set on just letting it out but are then reminded of his attitude towards your panic attack and you doubt he’d feel sympathy for you if you peed yourself. He’d probably just let you lie in it which would make this whole ordeal even worse if this was even possible. But calling for him seems to go against your pride; the last time you needed someone to go to the toilet was when you were a toddler and you mom had to help you. This is humiliating.

“H-hello?” your voice sounds small, even in your own ears and you’re not sure if he even heard you. So, you try again, this time louder. “Hello? Mister?” First, there is silence and you take a deep breath to call out for him again. But then, you hear footsteps; heavy, fast, and with purpose. They approach your room quickly and your body instinctively tenses, then flinches as the door is opened. The prominent shape of his head mixed with his sharp eyes let you shrink in yourself; your heart is racing and your mouth feels dry. He doesn’t say a word but his expression darkens the longer you remain silent.

You clear your throat yet your voice still sounds strange, timid even. “I-I need to go to the…..” you trail of, hoping he know what you want to tell him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t reply, only raising an eyebrow. You are sure he knows what you mean. He simply chooses to make you say it out loud. “Can I go to the bathroom?” you bite your lip anxiously, heart hammering against your ribcage, desperately trying to get free. Your captor remains still for a second, then, he slowly makes his way over to you, shoulders moving with every step, his eyes pinned on you. For a moment, he just stands there next to you, then, he leans down. Your breath catches in your throat, somehow expecting him to punch you for your audacity to call out for him. Instead, he simply detaches the handcuffs from the rope that is tied to the bedpost, then he pulls you off the bed by your biceps.

You are shoved towards the door unceremoniously, his big hand remaining between your shoulder blades as he guides you through an apartment hallway towards what seems to be the toilet. It is a small room with only the toilet in it, the main bathroom is probably the room next door. He lets you enter but when you attempt to close the door for some privacy, his hand slams against the wood. “The door stays open.” His voice sounds like gravel and a shudder runs up your spine. You don’t dare to argue with him. Timidly and under his scrutinizing eyes, you start to unbutton your pants, feeling humiliated that he has you undress in front of him. The handcuffs around your wrists rustle when you pull your pants down and shimmy your panties down just enough so that you don’t wet them when you sit on the toilet. You don’t look at him as you try to squeeze out the content of your bladder but his stare makes it impossible for you to pee. You keep your head low when you ask “could you please at least turn around?”. It takes a second but eventually he obliges, turning his back towards you and even walking away and out of sight; the door still open.

You don’t know what he is doing but you hear the buzz of a phone on a table, then the opening of a zip. You feel relieved when you finally manage to relieve yourself, a small sigh leaving your mouth. You hurry to be done before he comes back and make it just in time to flush the toilet and wash your hands in the sink attached to the toilet. When you turn around, his imposing figure greets you once again. This time, he is holding something in his hands though. You look from what seems to be a tripod and a phone in his one hand to something made of fabric and plastic in his other hand back to his face. He steps aside for, ordering you to get out with a single glance and you oblige, not daring to ask what this is for even though, deep down, you have a faint idea.

He herds you back to the room; there is no body contact this time but he makes sure he is only one step behind you, his body heat radiating off of him like a fire. You enter the room and look at him over your shoulder, unsure if he wants you get on the bed again (though you have a strong guess he does), when you see him closing and locking the door behind him. You swallow hard and take a step back, your legs bumping against the bedframe. He casually, without a care in the world, sets up the tripod. Without even looking at you, he tells you to “undress”. When he doesn’t hear you shuffle, he looks up. The cold in his eyes makes you start to breathe faster once more, the room suddenly feeling way too small for you and this monster in front of you. Your throat feels like it is closing and you can’t breathe, panic spreads through your body like a plague.

Your kidnapper sets up the phone, then all of his attention is back on you “If you don’t do it, I’ll have to help you. ‘s that what you want?” This can’t be true, can it? Is he really about to do what you think that he is about to do? Your body is trembling and even if you wanted to open your pants, you can’t. You are frozen in place like a deer in headlight. “Please….” Your voice sounds far away in the distance and you are not sure If you actually said the word or just thought it but the man seems to be irritated. “Keep your underwear on. Just need to send a message.” The disdain in his voice his palpable but his words somewhat make you feel relieved. Yet, you cannot force your body to move, everything is locked in and you can only stare at him.

A scowl forms on his face and out of the corners of your eyes you see him clench and unclench his fists a couple of times before he rolls his head on his neck, letting it crack, then he grabs a pair of leather gloves, puts them on, then he grabs the plastic thing he was holding earlier. It’s a mask, you realize as he puts it on, the face of a dog now looking at you. You swallow hard when realization hits you. Akainu – the Yakuza – the new law proposal – a message – your father. He is here to make sure the new law does not pass.

He presses something on the phone, then he slowly makes his way over to you. In a panic, you look around, trying to find anything you can defend yourself with, but there is nothing. On top of that are your hands still tied together in front of you. There is nothing you can do against him and yet you start punching him with both hands as he reaches for you. Angrily but with precision he grabs you; one hand is buried in your hair, pulling your head back, the other almost expertly opens your pants and pulls the down. You scream, kick and lunge at him but you never hit. In response, the grip in your hair intensifies and you can feel him pulling out your hair with his grip. Tears stream down your face as you beg him to stop. He doesn’t listen.

Akainu pushes you face first onto the bed and takes a seat on your thighs, his hand remains buried in your hair, pressing your head into the mattress. Your screams are muffled and you can’t move, your hands trapped underneath your own body. You can feel his free hand trace the curve of your ass, his thumb disappearing underneath the thin fabric for a quick moment. Your muffled screams become louder; your body is thrashing underneath this beast but you can do nothing against him. A frustrated and desperate moan escapes your lungs as you helplessly have to let him do as he pleases. His weight is pressing down on you, his free hand playing with the seam of your panties, letting it snap against your skin for good measure.

The hand in your hair then pulls your head off the bed for a moment and the forces you to face the phone. Your mascara is smeared all over your face, your skin is red and swollen, tears and snot making you shimmer in the dim light of the setting sun. “Please…stop it.” You beg him, trying to look at the man as good as you can. But the only thing you see is that cursed dog mask with a cold pair of eyes looking right back at you.

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Sakazuki is in his car, driving aimlessly through the empty streets of Tokyo. Two of his subordinates are watching you. He didn’t tell them why he needed them to come take over for a moment; he doesn’t need to tell them. They merely have to obey. The grip on the steering wheel is tight, getting even tighter when he thinks back to you sucking him off. The tension you had temporarily sucked out of him now comes back, crashing down on him like a wave. Old anger is replaced by new anger, the source, however, is no you entirely. How dare you do something so bold, so…reckless? And how dare he be such a fucking degenerateand let you?! He’s not some stupid hormone driven teenager who can’t control his dick. He is fucking Akainu – a man who instills fear in his allies and enemies alike just with his mere presence. And yet, here he was, letting some dumb, spoiled brat catch him off guard with move like that. His jaw tightens. He can still feel the press of your tongue, the pull of your throat. The memory makes his stomach twist — not from guilt, but from disgust that it still makes his pulse jump.

His foot presses down on the accelerator, not minding the very few pedestrians that seem to be waiting for a taxi to take them back home because they missed the last train. Only when blue lights appear in his rear-view mirror does he slow down and eventually come to a stop at the side of the street. Shortly after, a police car parks behind him and two officers get out of the car. Sakazuki rolls down the window, his expression relaxed but the grip on the steering wheel tightens even more.

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Whenever he enters the room, you don’t dare to look at him. You keep your head low and your eyes directed on the floor when he leads you to the bathroom the next day. At one point during the night you had noticed two voices talking to each other outside the room and none of them sounded like Sakazuki. You had hoped that, for some reason, he didn’t feel comfortable enough around you anymore and told someone else to watch you. This gave you some kind of twisted satisfaction and you eventually managed to fall asleep. To your dismay, however, was Sakazuki the one who came into your room this morning, an unreadable expression on his face and a simple melon pan and water in his hands. Unceremoniously, he dropped it onto the bed before leaving immediately after. 

It feels like the day is dragging on forever; he barely visits, even less than before and you are left alone with your thoughts and the arching of your body, especially your arms and shoulders from the uncomfortable position you are being kept in. Since you haven’t drunk much, the need to go to the toilet is also quite low, giving him even less reason to come to you. It’s not as if you wanted his company, but being all by yourself, your dark thoughts the only thing keeping you company – you start to long for some form of human interaction, even if it is just his disapproving grunts when he leads you to the toilet. 

The human mind can be a cruel thing; no matter what you’re thinking about, you can’t help but start crying silently into the pillow. It doesn’t matter if you think about your current hopeless situation or back to the last time you talked to your mom, your dad, your friends, or your boyfriend. Tears of despair, anger, sadness – it doesn’t matter. In the end, you feel helpless and alone. And still, there is this small part inside of you that keeps pushing against your complete surrender to your situation and you’ll be damned if don’t keep this small flame alive.

Your eyes are red and burning when the door is opened the next time. You hide your face in the pillow and hope that Akainu would just leave whatever he brought on the bed, just like in the morning. To your surprise and shock, he wordlessly unties you – completely – and with a big hand around your biceps almost drags you off the bed and along the corridor. To your horror, he doesn’t lead you to the toilet but to the bathroom. Flashbacks from last night dance in front of your eyes, your body tenses and you instinctively resist, trying to wiggle your arm free from his vice grip. But it only leads to him grabbing your flesh even tighter before shoving you into the wet room. 

“You smell. Clean yourself.” Is all he says before closes the door, leaving you alone in the brand new wet room. You stare at the door, eyes wide in fear and disbelief. Surely, he’ll come right back once you turn the water on, right? But you can hear his heavy footsteps walking away. Still, you don’t trust him. With shaky hands you open the door, your heart is hammering in your chest and you almost can’t hear anything else besides your heart beat. With trembling hands, you push the door slightly open to peek outside. Your eyes roam the empty hallway and you are ready to close the door again when you hear the quiet sound of a sliding door being opened and then closed again. Right, there is a balcony in the living room. 

Without thinking, you sneak out of the wet room, body pressed flat against the wall behind you as you inch your way over to the living room. And there he is – outside on the balcony, a cigarette in one hand and an apparently new phone in the other. His fingers are swiftly tapping against the screen before he holds the phone to his ear, his back turned towards you and his body overlooking the city. You can’t believe what is happening. Your eyes dart over to the closed apartment door. Now, that you think about it, you never checked if the door was truly locked. It would be stupid, if not at least reckless of him to not have any precautions but maybe he underestimated you or overestimated himself. 

You feel the small flame inside of you growing by the second, pushing you to take the risk and try your luck. What’s the worst that could happen? The door is locked. He sees you. He gets angry. He yells at you. He forces himself on you. But how would you feel if you didn’t try it? You hate this feeling of helplessness, of not being in control of your situation, of only reacting and not acting. For once since your abduction you want to feel like you have a choice; not one that was forced onto you by fear but one you made consciously and being fully aware of the consequences. 

Your eyes dart back to the man outside who seems to be having an animated conversation with the recipient of this call. It is now or never. The door to the balcony is not completely shut, so you still need to be quiet. You take a deep breath, then you slowly put one foot in front of the other, one deliberate step after the other. Your eyes are trained on Sakazuki’s muscular back, not letting him out of your sight for a single second. The closer you get to the door, the more anxious you feel that he might spot you. Every moment, you are sure he will turn around and see you; he might even throw his phone at you to stop you. But he doesn’t. 

Your right hand reaches for the cold door know, the other to the lock above it. Quietly, you unlock the door (thank God for those Japanese apartment doors that are very easy to unlock from the inside), then you twist the knob. The second lock in the know unlocks with a quiet metallic click, then the door opens. For a moment, you are stupefied. How could this be so easy? Idiot, you think to yourself as you look back to Sakazuki one final time before dashing out of the apartment and to your freedom. 

The smell of a newly built building hits you even more than in the apartment as you run along the empty hallway towards the door you assume leads to the stairwell. You pass two elevators but they don’t seem to be working yet. Plus, you don’t know if Sakazuku will come sprinting out of the apartment at any moment so waiting for an elevator would be more than stupid. You swing the door open and luckily see the staircase that leads to both the lower and upper levels. With a quick look over your shoulder you confirm that he apparently hasn’t noticed you escaping yet, then you hurry down the steps, taking two steps at a time sometimes. You stumble every now and again but you manage to catch yourself, the adrenaline keeps you going even with your lungs burning from exhaustion. 

You start at the tenth floor. By the time you reach the third floor, you can already smell freedom. You think about the first thing you will do once you’re out of here which will be to run straight to the police and get this motherfucker arrested. Fear for this man is replaced by schadenfreude when you think about the day he will be sentenced to prison and will never see the light of day as a free man ever again. Serves him right for what he did to you, for what he put you through. 

You reach ground level and push the door open. The lobby of the building is spacious and long but empty. Without thinking, you dash across the marble floor towards the door. Locked. Your hands bang against the glass door but it wouldn’t break. Now slightly panicked, you look around and see another hallway. Next to the door is a small sign which tells you it leads to the underground garage. You have no choice but to try it. With heavy legs and exhaustion clawing at your body you jog into the dark corridor, one hand against the wall while the other is stretched out in front of you in case you are about to run into another wall. 

It feels like forever until you finally make it into the garage. There is not artificial light but somewhere from the far end you can see a faint ray of light coming from presumably outside. If you are lucky, you can escape from here. You do not allow yourself to take a quick rest and you push your body forward towards the light – towards hope. 

“Hey! Who are you?” you stumble over your own feet to the sound of that unfamiliar voice. For a moment, you want to turn around and run away from the approaching figure steps into your line of sight, most likely having entered through the garage ramp. The light of a flashlight hits your face and you squint your eyes at the sudden brightness. You raise your hands in defense but you are too exhausted to run away.

“What are you doing down here? This is a construction site. It’s dangerous!” the man reprimands you and it slowly sinks in that he must be one of the construction workers. You can’t say how relieved you are feeling when you are finally able to look into the unfamiliar face of this middle aged man with a grey helmet on. Without thinking, you jump into his arms and wrap your own around his neck, ugly-crying into his vest. Taken by surprise, he lets you, frozen in place and unable to comprehend what’s going on. 

You thank him over and over again, your voice muffled by his clothes. A hesitant hand pats the back of your head and for a moment you imagine that he is your father who came to safe you. 

“E-easy there, miss. What is going on?” there is audible hesitation in his voice while he gently tries to make you look at him. You look up, vision blurry from all the tears of relief and snot running down your nose. 

“Please, we have to leave.” You press out, accompanied by small hiccups. 

“Please, calm down, miss. Why do we have to leave?” he gently pushes you away from him to take a better look at you. His flashlight is directed at your torso so he doesn’t blind you but can take a closer look. He audibly gasps at your disheveled appearance but he tries to keep his shock to himself. 

“T-there is a-a man in the building. He kid-kidnapped me and held me here. Please, we have to go!” you plead with him while you grab his arm and try to lead him towards the way he just came from. But he is hesitant and you lose your grip on his arm. 

“Please! We have to go!” 

You can’t see his face clearly but you can make out that he is contemplating what you are saying. Frustration and anger grow inside of you with every second he waits. Why was he not believing you? You take a step back, ready to run even without him, one last pleading look in your eyes. You watch him shift, his head tilting to the side just a bit, then – 

BANG.

Your whole body jerks from the sound, the echo piercing marrow and bone. For a long moment, nothing happens. It is, as if the world stands still. Your head is empty except for the resounding bang that settles down like an unwelcome, creepy uncle at family dinner. It gives you the chills and the feeling that something awful just happened settles in. You didn’t know you were holding your breath but you are suddenly awoken from your stupor when his body hits the ground with a dull thud, the flashlight rolling out of his hand, the beam of light dancing along the concrete floor. 

You scream. At least you think you are. Your mouth is open but you can’t hear a thing. Your eyes are trained on the lifeless body in front of you, the flashlight partially illuminating the man’s face. A small trickle of blood is running down his face and drips onto the concrete, the lifeless eyes open, starring right at the ceiling with the same confusion in them from when he saw the person behind you.

A big hand is wrapped around your mouth and you are pressed against an iron hard body. Nails dig into your cheeks and moist breath tickles your ear. 

“Look what you did,” he sounds angry, furious even. He is trying to contain his anger but it is radiating off of him like radioactive material. You struggle against his iron grip but his nails dig into your flesh even angrier as if they wanted to pierce you. 

Sakazuki shifts behind you; the metallic sound of a gun being shoved back into his waistband has your blood run cold. He shot someone. He killed a man! An innocent man who had nothing to do with everything! Dread spreads through your body as realization hits you. “Look what you did.”

Yes, you did this. He is dead because of you. You killed him. If you just hadn’t approached him and just kept running, if you just hadn’t gone to the garage in the first place and tried to break the glass of the front door instead, if you just hadn’t tried to escape in the first place, this man would still be alive. 

Sakazuki lets go of your face and roughly twists your arms behind your back. You are too far gone to resist and so you let him handcuff you again, the cold metal being unnecessarily tight around your wrists and dig into your already abused skin. His vice-claw like hand grabs the back of your neck and he almost forcefully has to drag you away from the body.

“Don’t even try to make a fuss, missy. Believe me, I’ll put you there with him.” He means it. You can feel it to your bone. You messed up. You had your chance, you screwed up royally and now you have to live with the consequences, whatever they might be. 

He leads you to the ramp leading outside but stops at the bottom. Sakazuki checks his phone for service before dialing a number. He doesn’t say much. Just the address (though you are too scared to even try and remember a single number) and where they should go. He ends it with “clean up everything; body, car, everything you can find,” then he hangs up. 

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You have completely misjudged this man. Sure, his anger was scary enough but in your sheltered little mind have you never really thought about him being able to kill someone, let alone you. But now, you are more terrified than ever. The image of the construction worker – his limp body, the blood, and dead eyes – is haunting you. But what’s worse is the guilt you feel. You are the reason this good man is dead. Does he have a wife? Children? What will they do now that he is gone? Will they even know what happened or will he just be another missing person?

Sakazuki shoves you back into the apartment and slams the door shut behind him, his hand never leaving your neck, his nails digging into your soft skin just like before. You feel somewhat light-headed; the pressure is making it difficult for your blood to reach your brain. He only notices it whenever you are about to pass out on the way, then his grip eases just the tiniest bit to keep you awake. 

Back in your room, he shoves you onto the bed. There is silence for a moment, you don’t dare to turn around, let alone look at him. But he breaks this silence with his gruff voice.

“Look at me,” he demands. You don’t want to; you can’t stomach to look at the man who could kill another person just like that without a second thought. His impatient exhale through his nose forces you to turn your head towards him regardless. 

Slap.

Stunned, you can only look at him with wide eyes, lips slightly agape but no sound is leaving them. The hot burn slowly spreads across your cheek. The sound was far from the one the gun made in the garage but the echo still rings in your ears. The first thing that comes to your mind after he just slapped you is humiliation. It wasn’t a particularly hard slap (though it still hurt) nor do you think it will leave a lasting mark but just the fact that he slapped you like a pimp his whores has new tears welling up in your eyes. And you can’t even put a hand against your cheek to soothe the pain since both your hands are still tied behind your back. 

Without another word, he grabs your hair and pulls you towards the head of the bed, leaving you in a sitting position as he somewhat clumsily ties your tied hands back to the bed, this time not giving you another option but to sit there, with your arms twisted behind your back and no room to move or adjust your position. Then, he leaves.

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He doesn’t trust you anymore. Not, that he trusted you in the first place, but now he trusts you even less. You have no privacy, not even when you go to the toilet or when he has you take a shower; he is always there. He isn’t outright watching you but you still feel naked even with his back turned towards you. And even then, you can feel how he looks over to you every now and then to make sure you are not doing anything stupid, especially since, in these situations, your hands are untied. Why he lets you take a shower in the first place is beyond you but you suppose you must smell pretty badly. Not that you care, anyway. He even placed a single chair next to your bed to feed you like an animal, not allowing you the freedom to move or even do it yourself. It is humiliating, degrading and downright disgusting. But you are too scared to say anything. The fear of ending up like that man has settled into your body and won’t let you go. Every encounter with him you survive is a win for you. 

The incident happened on the fourth night, the killing the day after. It is now the sixth day being prisoned by him – by the yakuza – and you are at your end. Everything hurts; your body feels numb from all the awkward sitting you had to do, your shoulders are strained, and your hands fall numb whenever you don’t move them for a longer time. He can see that you are in discomfort, that you are almost at your breaking point. He doesn’t care. You have used up what little patience he had left with you the moment you stepped outside this apartment. You are defeated. Or so you think. 

Sakazuki enters your room for what might be the final time for the day. The usual sight of the melon pan and bread makes you feel nauseous; if you came out of this alive you swear you would never touch one of those disgusting melon pans ever again. He settles down on his chair and without saying a word he rips open the plastic wrap and holds the sweet bread in front of your mouth. You hesitate, but eventually open your mouth in defeat and take a small bite from the pastry. You are sick of the taste so you chew slowly. To your surprise, he doesn’t reprimand you to eat faster; he simply sits there and watches you eat. 

As much as you fear, no, hate him, as much have you become accustomed to his presence. You are trapped here in this room all by yourself probably 23 hours a day, with him only coming once every couple of hours. So, naturally, he is also the only source of human contact you can get. It feels lonely in here and though you would never admit it, even someone like Akainu can become a constant in your life, given the circumstances. 

You take another bite and secretly watch him. He is leaning forward, both elbows resting on his legs while he watches you in return; he looks tired and his shoulders seem to be tense. A small spark of schadenfreude fills you at the thought that he has stress because of you, even when you are tied up. Throughout the day you heard him talking on the phone to various people, each time getting seemingly more agitated. But now, he just looks…exhausted. Must be hard to be heartless gangster….

He shifts in his seat and cracks his neck, reminding you of your own uncomfortable situation. You try to shift yourself but to very little avail. You contemplate in your mind what you should do, fear and courage having a battle in your heart but ultimately courage wins. You take a deep breath in and raise your head to face him head on. 

“C-could you please….untie me? It hurts.” There is silence and your heart skips a beat. Then a single “no” crushes your hopes. You press your lips together when he lightly pushes the bread against them, but then you take another bite. While you are chewing, you think back to two nights ago. The images still haunt you, not only in your sleep but also when you are awake though the cold-blooded murder has taken over a big chunk of your thoughts. Now, that you think about it, he seemed to be more lenient afterwards; he even told you to take a shower and he left you alone, not like the second time. It was your own stupidity that led you in this situation. 

You feel how your throat starts to tighten and it seems harder to breathe. Your ears and neck start to prickle at just the mere thoughts you are thinking right now. You look up at him again, your heart is racing in your chest. 

“You must be tired.” It is a simple statement that obviously catches Sakazuki off guard. He is silent for a moment, then he tilts his head to the side.

“Now, why would you care if I was tired,” he asks. You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating if you should elaborate or just leave it at that. 

“I could give you…a massage. My…my boyfriend said I give good back massages.” You are not sure why you mention your boyfriend but it earns you an amused huff from the man in front of you.  “Well, if your boyfriend said it, it must be true, right?” Sakazuki leans back in his chair, thick thighs slightly spread as he scrutinizes you. Your face heats up and you avert your gaze.

“It was merely a suggestion,” you mumble, humiliation burning on your cheeks. 

The tension between you two thickens until it is almost suffocating you. Sakazuki doesn’t reply, he doesn’t even move. Out of the corner of your eyes you can see his eyes piercing you like daggers trying to pry open your brain and listen in to your thoughts. You want to sink into a hole and die there out of sheer embarrassment from what you just said. Sure, you didn’t say anything inappropriate, really, but Sakazuki is not stupid. Judging by the shift of his muscles underneath the shirt you know he is even more tense than before. He knows the insinuation of your suggestion, even without you having to spell it out for him. There is also always the sense of deniability, that you never meant to offer him that. But the fact he hasn’t put you in your place makes your heart race in your chest and the blood is rushing in your ears. 

You wet your lips, licking away the sugar from the bread in the process and tasting the sweet on your tongue. You hear him exhale through his nose once, then, without another word, he leans back forward, places the rest of the melon bread next to you, pulls out a small key from his trouser pants and unclicks the handcuffs around your wrists. You flinch at the contact of skin on skin when his hand grabs one of your wrists to get better access to the cuffs but you stay silent. Once the cuffs are undone, he leans back in his seat slowly, his eyes never leaving you, and places both of his hands on his massive thighs. 

You wince when you pull your arms forward and stretch them, but it feels good to be able to move them again without any restraints. You try to ignore his gaze while you massage your own shoulders – first the right one then the left one. The strain on your joints had become almost unbearable and it takes you a while to get used to the freedom again. However, in the back of your mind your proposal is ever so present. You offered him a massage. You wonder if he is truly expecting one or if he is under the assumption that you just said it to get him to unlock the handcuffs. You want to just ignore him, use up what little time of freedom he gave you before he gets tired of it and ties your hands back again. 

You shift uncomfortably on the bed, your eyes shift to the half eaten melon pan next to you. Maybe you should start eating that thing before you do anything else. It’d be reasonable, wouldn’t it? For you to first finish eating. But is Sakazuki a reasonable person? Honestly, after yesterday, you don’t know. He is a dangerous man but ever since yesterday he is more than that – he is a monster. Or so you tell yourself. 

Then why do you catch yourself slowly inching off the bed? You don’t dare to look up but out of the corner of your eyes you can see both his hands clench into fists to the point where his knuckles turn white. You take a deep, silent breath in before you push yourself off the bed and with your head low you slowly make yourself around his chair until you stand behind him. Even when sitting is he almost as tall as you. He turns his head slightly to keep you in his peripheral vision but he doesn’t stop you. You are unsure of what to do even though you know what you are supposed to do. This is just surreal. Why doesn’t he stop you? Even when your hands reach out for his shoulder, hesitantly placing them against his body. You can feel his muscles tense under your palms but he still doesn’t stop you. 

You take another deep breath in before you let your thumbs dig into the hard tissue, feeling the small knots underneath his skin. You weren’t lying when you said your boyfriend liked your massages. When you were younger, you often helped your mother relax after a stressful day by giving her a back massage. She never asked you for it but you wanted to do something for her. A weird thing for a child to do, now that you think about it. Nowadays your boyfriend is the one who benefits from this the most.

Your hands move along the knots – one at a time – but you make sure to stay clear of any ‘critical’ area; you don’t go too low nor do you move beyond his shoulders towards his chest area. You strictly keep to his shoulders and upper back. While your fingers dig into his skin you notice just how trained he is. Even the muscles in his neck seem to be able to pull a car if he so chooses to. You don’t know his age but suppose he’s around fifty. For a man his age he takes good care of his body. It still doesn’t change the fact that you would much rather be anywhere else but here. 

Caught up in your own thoughts you notice too late when he lifts his hand and grabs your right hand a little too roughly. Instinctively, you try to jerk away but his grip doesn’t budge. You stare at the back of his head, your heart is hammering in your chest while your free hand unconsciously digs deeper into his shoulder. He doesn’t say a word; he doesn’t need to. The heat he radiates seems to have gotten hotter to the point where it feels like it is almost burning your skin. He readjusts his position a little, spreading his legs just a tiny bit wider and the grip around your wrists eases though he doesn’t release you. 

You know what he wants, what he expects of you but he doesn’t force you. You wonder if he’d let you be if you just crawled back on the bed and tell him to leave. He didn’t force himself onto you the last time and he hasn’t done it just yet so maybe you could get out of this without a scratch and your dignity still intact. You carefully pull your hand out from his grip, his calloused hand leaving goosebumps where it grazes against your skin. You should walk past him, you should get back on the bed, quickly finish the bread and let him tie you up again and leave you alone. So many “shoulds”. 

Your head starts spinning when your knees hit the floor, his legs caging you like a trapped animal. You dare to take a quick look at him, the surprise of your action very visible on his face. Obviously, he did not think you’d do it, confirming your suspicion that he would’ve left you alone if you had told him no. But you didn’t. Even now you don’t do the logical thing and get up again, rather the contrary. Your eyes shift back to what is right in front of you. You wonder if the bulge in front of you is a natural reaction to your massage. Maybe he wanted you to stop because he was getting too bothered by it, maybe it wasn’t a demand to “help him out” after all but to simply get his body back under control. Now, you feel stupid and ashamed and dirty for thinking that’s what he wanted. So, you just kneel there, face hot and hands clenched into fists at your side. 

A big hand grabs your chin and you are forced to look up at him again. He stares right into your eyes; there is a battle going on behind his brown eyes, you can tell. You just don’t know what the fight is about. 

His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and slightly pulls it down. You let him, tasting the salt on his skin, too scared to push him away. His jaw clenches and his free hand massages the bridge of his nose. While he closes his eyes for a moment to think, you let your eyes dart back down to his crotch. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him shift ever so slightly to find a more comfortable position. The fabric of his pants stretches seemingly uncomfortably across his restraint member. 

You count to three mentally, then you place your hands on his thighs. His eyes snap open and the grip around your chin tightens. Your body tenses for a moment, then you let your hands wander closer to his crotch. They tremble when they reach their destination. He is hot underneath the fabric and twitches slightly under your touch. He lets go of you and simply stares at you in disbelief while you clumsily open his pants. It is difficult to pull them down to the point where you can pull him out but when you do your face heats up once more. 

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When you wrap your lips around his dick it is not different to last time. The warmth of your wet cave envelopes him and lulls him into this false sense to relax for a moment. But he can’t. Never completely. There is always one part of his brain working, even while being pleasured by a woman more than half his age. Your right hand is stroking the base of his dick while the other one claws at his thigh for support. Your eyes are closed while you move your head up and down, your quiet pants mix together with the wet sound your mouth makes. He wonders why you’re doing this. Sure, you’re scared for your life, especially after he shot that guy. But no rational person would come to the conclusion that sucking off their kidnapper was a smart idea. But then again, the emphasis is on the word rational. You, however, are not rational at the moment. He can’t blame you. Being kidnapped, witnessing a murder, getting intimate with him, however the circumstances, and all in the span of a week. No wonder you resorted to the one thing that made him relax the last time. 

His hips jerk upwards involuntarily and you choke around him. Tears gather in your eyes but you don’t stop. 

“Good girl,” he mumbles under his breath while he brushes some lose strands of hair out of your face. You lift your eyes to look up at him, holding his gaze while your movements become slower until you halt completely. He looks down at you while you look up at him, his cock buried deep in your mouth. You tense when he lifts his hand and places it on top of your head. His nails scrape over your skull lightly before he encourages you with a slight tug at your hair to continue. 

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You break the eye contact, too embarrassed to keep looking at the man you are currently giving head and instead close your eyes. You want to focus on something else – anything, really – but the sheer size of him in your mouth makes it almost impossible. When you started, you weren’t even sure if he liked it. He doesn’t make a single sound beside the occasional hiss. As sick as it sounds but when he encouraged you to keep going just now, your heart skipped a tiny bit. You chide yourself for this reaction but you guess it is better than being reprimanded for being terrible at it. 

The hand on your head tightens into a fist every now and then, pulling at your hair in the process but other than that he is surprisingly….passive. You don’t know what to make of it. It’s not that you are complaining about it but it makes you feel uneasy. If you were to compare him with your boyfriend you could see a huge difference in their behavior. Whereas your boyfriend is more vocal, more relaxed, Sakazuki is controlled and tense. You don’t know why, but it creates a queasy feeling in your stomach. The way his eyes are on you the entire time; you can feel them even if you can’t see them. You are like a prey trying to amuse the predator so he doesn’t eat you alive. 

The strain on your jaw keeps growing and your tongue is going numb. After last time, you had hoped it would be over rather quickly too, but apparently, he has more self-control this time. You don’t want to think about the possibility that he wants to drag this out as much as possible. Or what if, after all, you’re not good enough? What if he gets bored of your technique? Should you up your game? But he is already hard to swallow as it is, you can’t do much more. Your fingers dig into his thigh as panic and anxiousness start to settle in. You need to do more. You need to please him. This man killed someone for no reason, what if he does the same to you? 

You don’t notice how your hand around the base of his dick tightens to the point where a low growl rumbles in his chest and the first in your hair tightens as a warning. 

“Careful there.” His voice is deep, warning you with a dangerous edge in it. You loosen your grip immediately and open your eyes. You move your head back and slowly let his dick leave your mouth until only his tip is between your lips. Your tongue swirls over the slit before you release it, his precum smearing against your lips. 

Sakazuki’s eyebrows knit together in confusion because you stopped. For a moment, you just sit there, his wet member right in front of your face, your hand still around his base, lazily stroking him, his hand weighing heavy on your head, while you muster up the courage to take the next step. 

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You let go of his dick. Slightly displeased, he grumbles in response. You tense, but after taking in a quick breath, you push yourself up, using his thighs for support. His hand glides down from your head and back on his thigh while you raise up to your full height, now being slightly taller than him. You don’t look at him, your eyes are averted to the side and your hands nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Are you really just going to stop and leave him like this? The audacity leaves him angry and impressed at the same time. He wouldn’t have thought you’d have the gall to do that but apparently, he was wrong. His teeth start to grind in frustration and he is ready to tie you back to the bed again right here and now. He halts. Then, his eyes grow even wider than before. 

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You can feel his frustration with you when you just leave him hanging like this; it radiates off of him like poisonous gas, ready to suffocate you. But what you do next blows away this gas at once and you are met with disbelief. Your hands find the hem of your shirt and before you can change your mind, you pull it up and over your head, letting it drop down to the floor where it will be forgotten. You don’t dare to look into his eyes; the shame is painfully obvious in your face anyway and you don’t need nor want to see his closer reaction; at best it could be amusement, at worst….

Almost frantically, you open the button of your pants and pull them down, awkwardly stepping out of each leg and kicking the trousers to the side as well where they join your shirt. Out of your peripheral vision, you can see him shift, his gaze burning into your exposed skin like a torch. You close your eyes to compose yourself, before you hesitantly reach behind your back and unclasp the bra. With a trembling hand, you hold the fabric in place while your free arm slips out of it, you then change hands and do the same with the other side. It takes all your courage to let go of the last piece of clothes that is covering your upper body but you force your hand to open and so, your bra drops to your feet. Your arms are covering your bare chest and you can feel tears dwelling up in your eyes. There is only one thing left. 

Your head is spinning when you carefully remove your arms from your chest, exposing your breasts to the man in front of you. You don’t want to – you really don’t – but your hands, instead, find the waistband of your panties. Your fingers slip between the fabric but you can’t bring yourself to bare your body to him completely. This is the last bit of privacy that is left. Revealing your most intimate part, showing him yourself in your most vulnerable form seems like a betrayal on yourself. 

You exhale when you feel your panties sliding down your legs. Now, it’s too late. There is no going back. You pause, then, your eyes find his. He doesn’t look amused. He doesn’t look angry either. He looks concentrated but there is this undeniable heat in his gaze that makes you shiver. He is sitting straight on his chair, his right hand is absentmindedly stroking his thigh while the other is clenched into a fist. His lips are pressed together tightly and you can see his jaw working underneath the tissue. The longer he just stares into your eyes, the more uncomfortable you feel. You want to yell at him to say something or to take your clothes and quickly dress yourself again but you are like a deer in headlight, completely unable to move. 

It shouldn’t feel this way, but it somewhat comes as a relief when he finally breaks eye contact. This feeling of relief is quickly replaced with unease, however, when his eyes start to take in every single inch of your exposed body. His gaze leaves a prickling trail on your skin, starting with your neck, your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach until finally your exposed womanhood. His eyes linger there longer than you would’ve liked and you have the urge to cover yourself. 

You almost stumble over your own feet when Sakazuki finally moves. His massive body is set in motion when he slowly heaves himself off the chair into a standing position. He is towering over you, his own body only a couple of centimeters away from yours. You don’t plan on looking at him but your body moves on its own when you crane your neck to look up at him. His eyes are hooded and his pupils are blown wide. You know what this means. You woke the sleeping lion and now he is here to consume you. 

You swallow hard when Sakazuki takes a step forward; you instinctively take a step back. Then, another step forward from him, another step back from you. Until you bump against the bed with the back of your leg. His hands reach up to his own shirt. You can’t help but watch as he opens each button deliberately, revealing more and more skin before he lets the shirt fall to the floor. Your eyes are wide at the sight. 

You haven’t thought about it before, especially since his body has always been covered by his clothes but it makes sense now that you see it. Tattoos. All over his body; starting at his collarbone and disappearing into the waistband of his pants. An ensemble of flowers, demons, waves and other symbols adorns his muscular body. Under different circumstances, you could’ve appreciated them more but right now it only showcases again that this man is not your friend. 

You jerk involuntarily when you suddenly feel his warm touch against your skin on your hip. His hand is big and rough and it leaves a trail of gooseflesh wherever he touches. It travels up your side, only barely grazing against your breast, before it closes around your throat. Your breath hitches in fear when he presses down ever so slightly; not enough to choke but enough to make your heart race. Another terrifying thought crosses your mind. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if he doesn’t find you attractive and now wants to end it? Maybe you have upset him with your audacity to assume he’d find you in any shape or form interesting?

With eyes wide open in fear, you look at the yakuza, holding your breath in the process. Then, he almost gently pushes you back, silently ordering you on the bed. You sit down, throat tight even though his hand is not around you anymore. Your eyes follow him slightly surprised when he suddenly leaves the room, leaving your sitting like this, naked and confused. What is he doing? Maybe he decided to call this whole thing off in the last second? But you are gravely disappointed when shortly after he returns, holding a small square piece of plastic in his hand. First, you are unsure what it is. Then, your eyes grow wide in disbelief at the realization. 

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He had bought the pack on a whim after his encounter with the cops the other night. Even while he was paying for them he felt stupid and agitated. What was he even thinking? He had plenty of those things at home – not that he used them particularly often, his desire for intercourse was fairly limited after all – but some small, nagging part of his mind told him better safe than sorry. Now, he was glad he bought them.

Judging by your face, you hadn’t even thought about protection when you started undressing for him. It was pretty reckless of you to just give him a blowjob in the first place, but full on intercourse with a man you don’t know? How naïve and childish of you. One more reason why he usually preferred more mature women. 

He rips the plastic open and pull out the condom from the wrapper. He quickly looks at you, then nods to the bed.

“Lay down,” it’s the first thing he says in a long time and the monotone voice catches you off guard. You hesitate, but eventually slowly crawl onto the bed completely, your eyes never leaving him as he casually rolls the thin protective layer over his penis. 

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You feel incredibly stupid when you see him returning with a condom. Obviously, you did not consider the fact that protection might be warranted in a situation like this. But to your own defense, you had been preoccupied with other things, mainly survival. Then again, the more you think about it, the more disturbing the situation becomes. Why does he have condoms? Is it a coincidence or did he bring them “just in case”? The thought of him bringing them preemptively lets your stomach sink. Even more so when he tells you to lay down. 

Cold sweat starts to cover your skin like a blanket while you slowly inch completely onto the bed, your eyes following the controlled movement of his hands while he rolls down the condom. His pants are still hanging from his hips though a little lower to have enough room for his dick. He lifts his gaze to meet your own while you are awkwardly sitting on the mattress. He tilts his head to the side, then, with the precision of a jaguar ready to jump its prey, he takes a step forward, then another, before he places one knee on the edge of the mattress. You can’t breathe, you can’t move. You can only watch as his other knee joins the first, one hand lazily stroking his member while his hooded eyes pull you into the void. 

His aura alone forces you to sink back into the mattress, your eyes never leaving his while he is towering above you, one hand placed right next to your face while his other one moves from his member to your thigh. Your body jerks involuntarily to the touch of his almost burning hand on your skin. You feel helpless as he caresses the soft flesh and you squeeze your legs together instinctively. The small hair on your body stand up straight as a cold shudder runs up your spine. You suddenly feel very cold, a coldness that comes from within yourself that lets you shiver. 

His hand travels upwards, his long fingers digging into your tissues as if they were trying to feel every millimeter of your soft body. His nails scrape over your butt and you close your eyes; you can’t endure his piercing gaze any longer, not while he is touching you. You tell yourself to calm down but the heart in your chest has other plans, ready to burst through your ribs and run off, far away from this place. 

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Sakazuki is not stupid; he can see that you are more than uncomfortable. And yet, you still haven’t told him to stop. Fear makes people do stupid, irrational things. For a moment, he wonders if you’d consider this rape. 

You press your legs together, even tighter when you notice his hand traveling from your ass over your hipbone and closer and closer to the part of your body you so desperately try to hide. He watches your face closely as his finger slips between your thighs and finds the small nub. You gasp when he presses down, then makes slow, circling movements. There is a whole war going on inside of you; the side that wants to fight him, to push him away and be unbothered by him – your mind. Your body, on the other hand, is telling a different story. It’s simple biology, he’s aware of that, but when he feels the first drop of you coating his finger it makes his dick twitch. The way you must feel so conflicted right now while he, some old man, is making your pussy react to his ministration – it surely must be frustrating. 

Now that he thinks about it, when was the last time he actually took his time with a woman? He’s not an entirely selfish lover but he prefers to get to the main part quickly to get it over with. Maybe he has become soft after all these years? Or maybe he just enjoys making you squirm…

He is taken by surprise when you all of a sudden grab his wrist, eyes wide with panic and stare right at him. He halts while his finger is partially buried between your lips. Is this too real for you now? Is this your breaking point?

“Wait!” your chest is heaving and he’s a little afraid you might pass out if you continue like this. 

“You don’t want me to prepare you,” he asks dryly, now catching you off guard. Your face is flustered while you stammer a response.

“I…you…that- that’s not it.” He knows what you mean. But he has only that much patience and at one point you have to live with the consequences of your own actions. He’ll give you one last chance to end this but the beast inside of him is ready to burst out. 

“Do you want me to stop?” you are stunned by this question and don’t know what to say. You just stare at him blankly. When you open your mouth, he presses his finger against your clit once more, eliciting a breathy moan from your small body. He knows it’s a dirty trick, but so what? He would stop if you told him to outright but that doesn’t mean that he won’t try to manipulate you. After all, a horny woman is a stupid woman and a stupid woman won’t say no. 

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You don’t want to be affected by him; you wish you could just tell him to leave you alone and rub one out in the toilet if he was that horny. But you can’t. You blame the fear of what he’d do to you if you told him that, indeed, you wanted him to stop. But in reality you can’t deny how your belly has been tingling since he started down there. You hate yourself for it and you curse yourself for even responding in the first place. You have read that this is a completely biological reaction but still – how could your own body betray you like this? 

You feel the muscles in his forearm shift under his skin when he starts to rub your clit, smearing your juice over your skin and suddenly it seems incredibly difficult to have a coherent thought. Tears of frustration gather in the corner of your eyes as you battle with your own demons. You look at him desperately, hoping he would find it in his heart to stop himself, to just leave you alone and never speak of it again, but he doesn’t. Defeated, you slowly let go of his wrist and close your eyes before you open your legs ever so slightly. You hate yourself for it — and you hate that a tiny ripple of pleasure shivers down your thighs even as your throat tightens with shame.

Sakazuki has pushed your legs apart to get better access; two of his long, thick fingers are pumping into you while the heel of his hand presses against your clit. You don’t look at him, your head is turned to the side and your hands are grabbing the pillow for some sort of support while you can only listen to the wet sound your body makes in response to his ministration. You try to control yourself but you can’t help the occasional jerk of your hips against his touch nor the mewls of hot pleasure that make it past your closed lips. 

You almost feel empty when he pulls out his fingers and you turn your head slightly to look at him. The first thing you notice is his penis, twitching and hanging heavy between his legs, neglected for far too long now. He smears your juice against your thigh, then, he grabs your hips with two strong hands and pulls you closer towards him. You swallow hard when he lines himself up with you, feeling the tip press against your swollen lips. You want to automatically push him away, but with his free hand he grabs both your wrists and pins your hands to the mattress above your head. You take in a deep, shaky breath as you brace yourself for the pain. 

Sakazuki readjusts himself, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate his massive body, then he slowly pushes against you entrance. You feel his grip around your wrists tightening as he spreads you open with his dick and your heat starts to envelope him. The fingers of his other hand dig into your hip to keep you and himself steady. Your own body tenses at the intrusion and you gasp for air. You look between your legs, watching how he slowly but relentlessly disappears inside of you, impaling you with his sheer size. With teary eyes, you try to find his gaze with yours but his are closed tightly, face tight and concentrated. He takes deep and deliberate breaths that tickle your sweaty skin. You wince when he bottoms out in you, his pelvis flush against your own. He pauses for a moment which gives you time to adjust to the foreign body inside of you.

You feel a small shock run through your body when he opens his eyes and looks at you; the heat and animalistic glint in them is almost scaring you. For a moment, you just stare at each other; then, he begins to move. Slowly, but deliberately, letting you feel every single inch of his member. Then, he pushes back in, the rough fabric of his pants scrap against the underside of your thighs, intensifying the feeling in your cunt more. 

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He can feel the resistance of your body when he pushes back in; your walls tighten out of discomfort around him though he can’t complain. Every thrust of his hips, every small gasp from your small frame lulls him deeper and deeper into comfortable soft cotton, letting him forget more and more of the stress that comes with his line of work. He angles his hips differently, adjusting his position to a more comfortable one and feels how your body is trying to inch away from him. He does not care. 

Your body, so young, so soft, so compliant, so….enticing….he hates to admit it but youth does bring some advantages. His hips snap forward in a sharp angle and he can’t always hold back the deep grunts it forces out of his body. His hand slowly lets go of your wrists, traveling down your arms until it reaches your shoulder, then further down to your breasts. He watches as you seemingly can’t decide if you want to inch away from his touch or arch your back against it. They feel nice against his palms; he starts playing with one, particularly with your nipple which elicits a suppressed moan from your mouth. He likes the sound of it. 

He pinches it between his fingers and in response you squeeze him tightly, forcing a breathy grunt from his lips which leads to a breathy chuckle. He leans down and lets his nose trail along your jawline before his lips ghost against the shell of your ear. 

“Want me to be rougher?” you tighten around him again while you shake your head no vehemently. Liar. His breathing is heavy next to your ear while his hand joins his other one at the other side of your hips and pulls your roughly against him. Your legs press down around his waist and your heels dig into the small of his back. He thrusts into you again, this time forcing a choked sob out of your body. Something wet touches his face and he turns it to look at you. 

You are clearly crying but at the same time your face can’t hide the lust you must be feeling right now. It surprises him that you are even able to feel pleasure from this but he doesn’t complain. The human body is a funny thing. 

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Your body is sending so many mixed signals to your brain that you can’t grasp a single thought right now. You hate it; hate everything he is doing to you but especially what he forces you to feel, forces your body into compliance. It hurts, he is not gentle but to your relief or horror you know he could be a lot worse. But would it really be bad if he was? Maybe then he wouldn’t force you to feel things you don’t want to feel, wouldn’t force your body to completely abandon yourself and become his little pleasure thing. 

You bring your hands down between your own and his body, you want to push him away, even it is just a little but you are scared to touch him, to touch his bare chest, to touch his burning skin. You are scared that you might get burned yourself if you did. 

His occasional grunts echo in your ears like the gun shot; they leave a petrifying feeling in every fiber of your being but at the same time they do something to your body that should be forbidden. The fire deep inside the pit of your stomach becomes bigger, hotter even and it forces your body to move against his. Though, once you notice, you stop yourself. Still, the mixture of pain, pleasure and humiliation is a poisonous drink that seems to infect the millions of nerve-ends in your system and fuel this fire even more. 

You are suddenly flipped over onto your stomach, the pillow is swiftly shoved underneath your hips to lift your butt up a little. Both his hands dig into your hips and you feel the hot and heavy shaft of his dick glide between your cheeks, his hands spreading them while he does it. You panic, afraid he might use this hole now. 

“Please….not there….” You whisper, almost not audible. You feel him lean over your body, his lips brushing the back of your head. If you were brave enough, you could now slam your head against his face. But you’re not. 

“Please, not there,” you repeat your request, your body tensing while you wait for his reply. His chuckle is deep behind you as he lets his thumb slip between your cheeks, circling that other hole. 

“Not here, huh? What a shame.” His thumb moves lower to your wet womanhood, playing with your entrance before lining himself up with it once more. He straightens up for a better position. This time, he pushes himself inside without much consideration. The small, rough pubic hair scratch against your butt cheeks as he lays flush against your ass, his weight pressing you further into the mattress. 

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He throws his head back when he starts moving again; now, that he is behind you he feels more comfortable to let a little loose. With each thrust, he pulls your hips back against his crotch, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, leaving angry red marks. A thin sheen of sweat is covering his body; his hips thrust forward in a rhythm only he knows. You pant, wince, mewl, and moan in response, your walls squeezing him tightly every now and again. His hand moves up from your hip, over your back, following your spine and to the nape of your neck. He leans forward and presses you further down into the mattress, all while he increases his pace. 

His occasional grunts mixed with the slapping of skin on skin as well as your muffled sounds fill the room and the smell of sex is in the air. The bed is moving with his thrusts and bumps against the wall; if there had been any neighbors, they’d know what the two of you were doing right now. But there are none. There are only you and him in this entire building. 

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He leans down, his body covering yours completely. It is too much skin on skin contact but there is no way you can shake him off. His damp breath mixes with the sweat on your skin; his left arm is places next to your head for support while his right hand lets go of your neck and instead moves down along your ribcage and underneath your body and between your legs. You tense when you feel his fingers find the little nub once again and start to caress it. 

You want to suppress it, you really do but the moan that leaves your body is primal and doesn’t sound like your own. He also seems surprised by your reaction but then simply continues. You hate how much your body is reacting to this, how it wants to lean into his touch, his thrusts – him – for more of this feeling. Oh, how easy it could be if you didn’t feel this way. But even the rational part of your brain couldn’t deny the fact that he was making you feel good in a twisted way. You can’t deny how every new grunt against your ear, every press of his thumb against your clit, every inch of his cock makes you lose a little more of yourself in pleasure. You don’t want that. 

He angles his hips slightly different and another moan leaves your body. Your hand comes down between the pillow and your body and grabs his wrist once more but he is not deterred. It feels like your vagina is on fire now as well; with each new thrust, with every circle against your nub, he forces your body a little closer to the edge. You pant and moan, trying to pry his hand away from your clit but he ignores it. You squirm underneath his heavy body, your hips move against him and his hand, your body is starting to chase the much anticipated high. 

“No…please don’t…!” you force yourself to say, voice broken and on the verge of desperattion. Your body is writhing underneath his, muscles tensing to force yourself to not give in. Sakazuki huffs in what seems to be amusement, his lips find the shell of your ear.

“Why,” he breathes, finger pressing against you.

“You don’t like it?” A sharp thrust. “Or this?” Another thrust. You sob, but it is mixed with a moan. 

“I’ve been balls deep inside of you this whole time,” despite the situation, his voice sounds calm. “You’ve let me fuck you so well – might as well give yourself a little reward for your sacrifice.” He kisses away one of your tears almost mockingly. 

“Do you feel how wet you are for me? Can you feel me inside you, stretching you…does it feel good when I move this deep?” Another quick thrust, another moan from you in response. 

“Or does it hurt?” he pinches your clit. You scream a high-pitched scream that is a mix between pain and pleasure. 

“I can feel every inch of you, every squeeze around me….so soft, so….” He presses his lips against your head “…tight.”.

Your body is shuddering with every single word of his and you are overwhelmed by your own emotions. Your nails dig into his skin while you simultaneously try to push him away and press him closer. 

“Why….do you care so much….,” you press out, a last ditch effort to prevent the inevitable. 

“I can feel how your body reacts….why would I deny you something that feels so good?” He is mocking you; mocking your body’s reaction, mocking the predicament you are in.

“Fucking….old….pervert…..” you hiss. Sakazuki chuckles and his arm slowly snakes underneath your neck, his forearm pressing against your throat and pulling your body closer against his own. He is not choking you but you feel suffocated nonetheless. Your free hand now claws at his forearm and tries to pry him off of you. To no avail. 

“And yet you are squeezing the cock of this fucking old pervert like a bitch in heat.” 

His movements don’t follow any specific rhythm anymore; it is purely animalistic, there are no restraints. With a swift move, he pulls your entire body upright with his arm around your neck and into a kneeling position. His hand between your legs is almost frantic while his hips snap upwards into you. Your body has completely submitted to him and the only thing you are able to do is claw hat his forearm around your throat for support. Your eyes are tightly closed and your lips are agape while your head lulls back against his chest while your body is preparing for the avalanche that is about to steamroll right over you. 

Every nerve in your body is hyper-aware of every single touch, every single shift, every single thrust. It is building inside you like a fever that refuses to break – searing, inescapable, unbearable. You try to breathe it away, to wrestle it into silence, but every touch, every push coils tighter and tighter in your core. Your body no longer feels like your own and yet you feel everything.

And then it hits. 

It tears through you with the force of a star exploding. Your breath catches on a helpless sound that sounds alien in your own ears. It is animalistic, not human. The world narrows to raw sensation. Your mind goes white-hot. Every muscle tightens, then breaks apart in waves of overwhelming release. 

He is holding you tightly against his body, the heat almost unbearable for you but at the same time he is the only anchor you can cling to as your body shudders through the last ripples of the high he dragged you into. 

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.

“Listen up! Tomorrow we will have a high-ranking visitor at our compound. Your orders are to behave at your best, to not complain and to fulfill every task given to you! Not that it’s any different from any other day but I won’t have you lot embarrass us in front of admiral Sakazuki!” a nervous murmur can be heard amongst the recruits, earning everyone a “Shut the fuck up!”. 

“He and vice admiral Garp will stay until the end of week 4 when you will take your second academic test. I don’t need to remind you to study for this test since you will not be able to continue your carrier in the navy unless you pass all tests!” he reminds you all.

Thinking back you noticed some faces didn’t return after the first test but you didn’t really pay it any mind. You scored in the top 10% and are more than content with it. You are also not too concerned about the second test since the questions asked are not too hard anyways. 

“That is all. Dismissed!” the officer yells and immediately stalks off. You and the rest of the new recruits slowly make your way over to the shacks where you share everything with one another. No privacy, only the bathrooms and showers are separated by sex which you are very grateful for. 

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After taking a shower you feel much better; still sore but much better. “Dinner” is served exactly at 1830 (630 pm) and if you’re later you won’t get anything to eat and have to wait until the next morning. One of your new friends here made this experience the very first day because he was late. You didn’t really feel bad for him since they said not even 6 hours prior when breakfast, lunch and dinner will be served so it was really only his fault. You have no idea why you engaged in conversation with him since he did nothing but complain that night but you somehow became friends and have sticked together since then. 

“What do you think about admiral Sakazuki coming tomorrow, Y/n?” you look up from your food at Rosinante and shrug. “It’s kinda surprising for him to come here. Maybe he has some business to attend to near the base or even on here….” You muse and take a bite of your meat (?) which tastes just like a show. Rosinante hums and watches your face contort in slight disgust at the taste and texture of the food. “You might be right. Still, I haven’t heard anything good from him.” His voice is hushed as to not attract too much attention. 

“Ever since he’s become an admiral some missions abroad have been somewhat….” He pauses, trying to think of the appropriate word. 

“Questionable?” you finish and he nods in agreement. “Yes, questionable.” He agrees and also takes a bite before spitting it back out. “Disgusting.” He huffs and you smile at him. 

“I heard he’s planned some reform for the marines.” Surprised, you turn around to look at none other than Koby who is sitting right behind you. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping.” He apologizes with a small smile but you wave it off. “No worries.” You assure him, also inviting him to continue. 

“I’ve heard some of the officers talk about him visiting another training ground and he personally threw out some of the new recruits even though they passed the tests. They don’t know why but ever since he’s been promoted the atmosphere within the navy has changed.” He informs you. Both you and Rosinante gulp at the story. Sure, there is always the possibility that you might fail a test but being thrown out even after you passed? 

“This almost seems personal…” you murmur and the others nod in agreement. 

“Guess that’s why commander prick seemed a little nervous earlier today.” Rosinante muses. You stay silent, following your own train of thought regarding this revelation.

You need to pass all the tests and become a marine. This is one of the only ways to pursue your academic carrier without falling into a crushing amount of debt. This visit might be a bigger problem than initially expected.

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You are used being yelled at. You are used being spit at. You are also (unfortunately) being used to indecent touches by some of your male comrades. All of this you can look past; you know how to deal with it, are not getting intimidated or flustered by any of it. But this is different. 

You have met a lot of different people in your life; some demand more, some demand less authority when entering a room but you have never, ever in your life met anyone who had such a dangerous and commanding aura like the admiral. The moment he stepped onto the training compound your blood ran cold. Chills covered your skin and your stomach dropped. Since now you have never seen anyone as dangerous or a threat. Call it privileged but despite your poor family you were raised pretty well in a surprisingly good neighborhood and there were not a lot of potentially dangerous people in your area. 

You want to look down when his eyes muster the recruits but you know you are not allowed to. This is an entirely new situation and, quite frankly, you have no idea how to behave. And you don’t like it.

Out of the corners of your eyes you can see that your fellow recruits are feeling the same and you feel some kind of relief. At least you’re not the only one.

“When I look at you, I feel disappointed.” His voice is gravely and sends another shiver down your spine. It also makes you listen up even more. This is not a good start for a speech. 

“I visited other bases before and I came to the conclusion that the navy will have to be more selective with new recruits. It should be a privilege to serve in the navy and people should act accordingly. That is why I will personally conduct interviews tomorrow with each and every one of you. If you’re not convincing, you can go back home. That’s all. Dismissed!” 

There is a long stretch of silence where nobody dares to move, even long after he is out of view. Even the officers are speechless, but not for too long. 

“You heard him! So, you better prepare tonight! We will also be judging you on your progress today so you better get your act together!”

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You don’t have problems with neither the physical training nor with the academic part but something you certainly are not skilled at is knot-tying. It seems so easy – everybody else can do it – but you can’t to get your head around the right way to tie this stupid knot. You’re constantly yelled by your officers and it also doesn’t help that the admiral and the vice admiral (who you’ve seen for the first time today at knot-tying practice) are watching you with sharp eyes. Or at least the admiral is, vice-admiral Garp is idly chatting with some of the lower ranking marines. 

A frustrated groan leaves your mouth when this stupid rope keeps loosening up every time you’re about to tighten it. “Fucking stupid shitty rope….!” You mumble under your breath and are about to start over again when a large shadow is covering the light coming from the lamp above. You look up, ready to be yelled at again when your body turns to stone. 

You’re looking at the admiral himself, his arms crossed in front of his chest and a displeased look on his face. Everyone around you is silent, shooting stealthy looks in your direction. “I suggest looking for a different carrier when you’re not even capable of tying a simple knot, recruit.” He says and stretches out one hand expectantly. You have to forces your body to move and to give him the rope, your hand briefly brushing against his bigger one. 

You can only watch his massive hands deftly tie the knot you’ve been struggling with, somewhat amazed at how easy it is. With a loud thud he puts the knot down in front of you on the table, an arrogant look in his eyes. “I’ll keep this in mind for the interview tomorrow, recruit.” His words are nothing short of a threat and you feel dizzy. That you’re entire future depends on this asshole and a fucking knot is ridiculous! You look down at the perfectly tied knot and ignore the admiral disappearing. 

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You are usually not nervous before interviews but today is different. You feel like throwing up and your hands are shaking. Not only will you be stepping in front of Sakazuki very soon but he will also decide on your future. Some of your comrades have already come back but so far none of them seems to have been kicked out. Nevertheless, they looked terrified. 

Another thing that bothers you is that you can’t anticipate how long the interview will be. Some of the others came out after 10 minutes, others stayed inside for 20-30 minutes. No way the admiral will be able to interview each and every one of you in a single day. 

The door opens and Koby comes out, his face pale as a ghost. You look at him concerned but he simply sighs in slight relief. “Good luck”, he whispers as he slowly walks away. 

“Y/n!” you’re being called into the room. As soon as you enter, the door is being shut behind you and you’re alone with admiral Sakazuki sitting on the opposite side of the room at a big desk. 

He is wearing the standard dark blue admiral uniform but no tie. All his medals are decorating the left side of his chest and you wonder what one needs to do to earn so many awards within the navy. 

You stand in front of the door, whole body straight and a (hopefully) stern look on your face. Sakazuki looks up at you after opening a file – your file, supposedly. 

“Sit.” He orders you and without hesitation you follow his command and sit down on the opposite side of the table, taking your hat off.  

Sakazuki looks at you for a moment before looking down at your file. 

“So, recruit.” He begins, not even bothering to read your name even though your file is right in front of him. “I’ve read your file. Good academic carrier so far.” He remarks but you don’t feel complimented. You know there is coming more. 

“Thank you, sir.” You reply regardless. 

“What made you join the marines and not go to university?” you knew this questions would come and you have thought about the right answer all night. You wanted to tell the truth but you decided against it last minute. 

“I want to serve our country and give back to this great nation.” You reply instead, swallowing the lump in your throat. There is a short silence in the room before the admiral huffs. 

“Serve our country….give back to the nation….stop bullshitting me.” You freeze at his words and his harsh eyes bore right into you. 

“S-sir?” you dare to ask. 

“I asked you why you wanted to join the navy after school and I expect an honest answer. You’re already on thin ice. One wrong step and you’re gone….” He mused, his eyes never leaving yours. The fight or flight instinct wanted to kick in but you desperately tried to suppress it. Neither would serve you good in this situation unless you wanted to lose face completely. 

“I-“ you cleared your throat before starting over again. “I wanted to go to university. But it wasn’t meant to be. So I decided to join the navy. I plan on taking online classes later in my carrier but right now I am entirely focused on my training and becoming a good marine. 

“A good marine should be able to tie a simple knot.” You couldn’t help but look away as your face heats up in embarrassment. You hear him move and pull something out of a drawer. When you look up you see a long rope in front of you on the table.

“How would you tie an enemy’s hands when you’ve captured them and have only this rope?” you know you learnt this the other day but by God you can’t remember!

You take the rope in your hands, looking lost but you decide to improvise. Maybe you’d be lucky…

You start to cross both ends to start tying the rope but Sakazuki interrupts you. “Try it on me.” His suggestion is much more an order than anything else. You want to protest but he has already placed both hands on top of the table in front of you. 

You don’t want to tie his hands together; mostly because you are scared to touch the man in front of you. But you have no other choice. You reach out and take both his hands into yours; his palms are warm and calloused, the rough patches brushing against your own hands. You slide the rope underneath his hands and start winding the rope around them. You know this is wrong, you know there is a right way but you simply can’t remember. 

The admiral watches you and lets you finish, his expression unreadable but you know you messed up once again. When you tighten the tow ends and look up at him you are met with a disappointed and annoyed look. You press your lips together and wait for his judgement. He lifts up his hands so both of you can take a good look.

“Tell me what you did wrong, recruit.” He demands. You look at your work but remain silent. Frustrated with you lack of answer Sakazuki simply flexes his arms and hands and rips the rope apart, freeing his hands in the process. 

“This was a sad excuse of a knot but an even sadder excuse of an aspiring marine. You want to defend this country?” he huffs derogatorily and you shrink into yourself. 

“First of all, you never tie an enemy’s hands in front of them. Always on the back.” He gets up, grabbing a second rope from the drawer and rounds the table. You slightly glare up at him. Of course, this was a set-up. He deliberately placed his hands in front of him on the table and not behind his back. 

“I must’ve misunderstood the assignment, sir. I thought you simply wanted me to tie your hands.” You admit but this answer is no good. 

“The order was clear, recruit. Tie my hands like I was an enemy. Would you tie an enemy’s hands like this?” you shake your head. 

“This is pathetic.” He mumbles. Suddenly, his hand grabs your hair, pulls you from the chair and presses your flat on the table. You gasp surprised and instinctively try to push yourself back up but the admiral has both your hands already grabbed behind your back, holding them  in an iron grip as his free hand slides around your wrists.

It doesn’t even take 10 seconds and your hands are tightly tied. You squirm underneath him, trying to get up but your tied hands combined with a single hand that is lightly pressing down between your shoulder blades is preventing you from getting away. 

“This is how you subdue an enemy.” You try to look at him over your shoulder but his hand moves to your head back again and presses your face onto the surface. You gasp, your legs kicking backwards to hit him but he steps closer and presses his body against yours. To be precise, he presses his legs against the back of your thighs, preventing you from moving at all. 

You struggle against your restrains but his grip only becomes harder. “Fuck!” You breathe out frustrated and give up, accepting your defeat and the likely end of your military carrier. 

“Pathetic.” He comments but lets go of you, pulling you from the table and onto your feet. You feel humiliated but suppress the tears that threaten to form in your eyes. You will not let him see your defeat, not Sakazuki. 

“You should just quit and save yourself from further humiliation which will come.” He says demeaning but you shake your head, “All due respect, sir, but I will not quit.” To underline your point you turn around to face him, the slight glistering of tears could vaguely be made out but either Sakazuki doesn’t see it or he ignores it. 

“I can be useful and I know I will be of value. I will not quit.” You look right into his cold eyes. Sakazuki remains silent for a moment before he steps forwarder, forcing you back and to bump against the table with the back of your thigh. 

“What will happen if you get captured?” he asks you, stepping another step forward and leaning forward deliberately slowly. You lean back instinctively, swallowing hard. You are not comfortable with this close proximity. 

“Will you be able to keep your mouth shut and not rat out your comrades?” he leans down further, forcing you to back up even more until your back is lying on the table again. 

Sakazuki places both hands next to your head, trapping you between his body and the table. 

“Y-yes, sir.” You affirm his question, forcing yourself to keep the eye contact. 

“Is that so? Even if they torture you?” his right hand traces down your arm until he reaches your hip. The warmth of his hand radiates through the fabric. It’s almost burning hot and makes you squirm under his touch. 

“Even if they do unspeakable things to you?” he continues, his hand moving upwards, riling your shirt up in the process, exposing your soft skin to his gaze. 

You let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, body slightly shaking under his touch. “Yes, sir.” You affirm once again, your heart hammering inside your chest. Sakazuki’s eyes slowly leave yours and instead travel down your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and then the exposed skin on your stomach.

You have so many different feelings racing inside your mind but the most prominent one is what is he going to do? Is this even legal? 

The admiral leans down, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear, his hot breath against your neck. Your body heats up when a low groan rumbles through his body, revibrating against yours. His hand traces your naked skin up, inching closer to your breasts. Your body arches against his touch and you have the urge to wrap your legs around his waist. You know your pussy is wet from his short ministration and you want to be touched.

However, there is this small part in your head that screams at you that this is a trap. But this tiny voice keeps being pushed to the side with every touch from his big hand. You sigh and let your head fall to the side when his hand pushes underneath your sports bra and starts fondling your breast. 

A thin sheen of sweat has formed over your skin and you feel the heat inside your body. How did it come to this? This was supposed to be nothing but an interview! You know this isn’t right, but fuck! – his mere presence makes you feel things that should be forbidden!

Your mind is racing, trying to form a single thought but Sakazuki won’t let you. You feel his body shift, his legs nudging your legs apart and he presses his body between you. Your eyes open wide and you can’t hold back the moan anymore as his penis presses against you, hard and hot. Your hips rut up against his, wanting more friction. 

The admiral raises his body to look down at your flustered form, his right hand buried underneath your shirt.

“So pathetic. As soon as some man shows you some kind of attention you crumble like a cookie. Look at you. You’re so needy you will even risk your carrier to get that dick.” As if to emphasize his words he thrusts his hips forward against yours, forcing another gasp from your lips. 

Sakazuki lets go of your breast and pulls his hand out from underneath your shirt, leaving you breathless and flustered. Your slowly turn your head to look at him, his eyes giving no indication of his erect penis between your legs. 

“I am not pathetic….” You mumble. You don’t know why you said that but it was the only thing on your mind you could communicate with the marine above you. 

“And if I am then you’re as pathetic as I am.” You add, bracing for what’s about to come. Sakazuki lifts an eyebrow, surprised at your reply. 

“Care to explain why?” you swallow hard but know there is no going back.

“You are the one who initiated this. You are the one who felt the need to touch me. And you’re as aroused as I am.” Now it was your time to emphasize your words by pressing your hips against his. The admiral doesn’t answer right away, he simply stares at you. Then, the corner of his lips slightly lifts up, indicating a smile. 

“Gotta admit, you’re braver than you look.” He steps back, giving you some room but also robbing you of that sweet pressure between your legs. 

He pulls down your shirt, deliberately brushing against your breasts one last time before he pulls you up by your arm. 

He steps between your legs once again and reaches around you, his muscular body pressing against yours while his hands reach around you to untie your restraints. You sheepishly breathe in his cologne, his musk reminding you once again of the wetness between your legs. 

When your hands are free again, he drops the rope on your lap and returns back to his seat behind the desk. 

“Come to my office tonight after dinner.” He simply says without looking up, your file occupying his attention again. 

“Why?” you dare to ask. Sakazuki glances up at you, his eyebrow raised once again. 

“You are brave, not stupid, aren’t you? Follow my orders and we will get along well.” He simply said and waved his hand dismissively at you to leave. You murmur a “Yes, sir” and slowly make your way over to the door. 

“Oh, and one last thing, recruit. Bring that rope with you. I think I need to teach you some more knots.” Your face heats up one last time, your hand clutches around the fabric, and you hurriedly open the door to leave his office. 

You felt a big hand gently lift your head by your chin, making you look at the tall man now standing in front of you, his yellow suit too bright for your eyes. You had the urge to avert your gaze but you knew it would be a sign of weakness so you endured it, your body tense, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“Still so much fight left in those pretty eyes. I hope you can keep it up a little longer.” He mused, his thumb brushing against your cheek right below your eye before he let go with a lazy smile. Behind him, Akainu huffed impatiently. You’ve painfully learnt that he was not enjoying this whole little spiel as much as his fellow admiral was simply by the fact that he had been the one inflicting the most physical pain while Kizaru just watched you writhe in agony.

“So, shall be continue where we have left off before or have you come to your senses and realized that complying will save you from a lot of trouble?” he asked but you could see that he wanted to continue, wanted to hear you scream even louder.

Your lips were pressed into a thin line. “How unfortunate.” He said with a pleased smile, not matching his words whatsoever. A chill ran down your spine at his words.

You expected him to make room for Akainu but instead he cocked his head and looked at you ruminatively. “Nee, Sakazuki.” He addressed his colleague. Your eyes automatically shifted from the man in the yellow suit to the one in the red suit behind him, standing there with his muscular arms crossed in front of his buff chest, looking at you with a scowl on his harsh features.

“How about we try a different method this time? We’re almost there and haven’t been able to get even a single useful word from her….” Borsalino asked without confirming that Akainu was actually listening. “I think we should try a somewhat….unconventional approach.” You could see his eyes darken at his words and you felt the urge to get away from him as far as possible. This was different from before. His whole aura had changed and there was something sinister in his gaze that made your blood run cold.

“You talk too much, Borsalino.” Sakazuki growled from behind him. You’ve never thought that you would find Akainu less intimidating that Borsalino but for some reason you hoped he wouldn’t agree to whatever the other male had in mind. But you were disappointed.

“Just do whatever you want. Just make her talk.” He was more than impatient and his tone resonated this impatience. “Then let’s not waste any more time.” He mused, his hand finding its way back to your face. “Feel free to join whenever you want.” He offered to Sakazuki without taking his eyes off of you.

His hand slowly moved down your neck, feeling the cuts and soft, burnt skin under his fingers that he and Sakazuki had inflicted upon you. You started to tremble the lower his hand moved; you could feel his warm hand through your flimsy clothes, purposefully only grazing the side of your chest, not touching you fully.

Your face heated up and you squirmed underneath his light touch. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. This was so different from the times before and you body almost appreciated the change but you knew better than to trust the man in front of you who was now caressing your hipbone with his thumb over your pants.

“What are you doing?” you heard Akainu’s irritated voice, internally wanting to know the same but you knew better than to raise your voice. Borsalino just shrugged before answering. “We’ve tried to bargain with her, we hurt her, and we tortured her. I think it’s time we try humiliation.” The words dripped down from his tongue like poison, ready to sink into your wounds and slowly kill you from the inside.

Humiliation. Humiliation could mean a lot of things but given his hand slowly moving to the front of your pants you had a rough idea what exactly he was talking about. And you were scared. It wasn’t that you were a virgin but Borsalino was a big man who was probably proportionally big as well.

“Dirty old man.” Akainu huffed and Borsalino chuckled. “Let’s see how it goes. Maybe you’ll change your mind about this method.” He said nonchalantly while his hands swiftly opened the button of you pants and pulled down the zipper, the sound awfully loud in your ears. You expected him to pull down your pants but he didn’t do it. Instead, he seemed to simply appreciate the view in front of him; suggestive but not lascivious.

You tried to squirm away when his hand eventually moved inside your pants, feeling the fabric of your panties under his touch before he pushed past them as well. His touch felt like he tried to electrify you; a jolt rushed through your body when his index finger pressed down on your clit shamelessly. “No!” you breathed out, the first sound you’ve made this whole time. It was embarrassing how warm and nice his finger felt on you and you tried to kick him with your legs but he was fast to restrain you with his other hand, pressing your hips forcefully against the cold wall behind you.

His finger slowly circled the little nub before he moved it along your slit. You emitted a shaky breath but bit your bottom lip to suppress any further sounds.

The longer he moved his finger along your slit, the more you felt yourself become wetter and wetter, making it easier for him to move his finger. “So wet.” He drawled before pushing past your folds and entered your core, the heel of his hand pressing against your pubic bone.

He moved his finger in and out of your hot pussy, with each thrust searching for something inside of you he was hoping to find. Your eyes restlessly darted around the room, desperately trying to avoid his piercing gaze while simultaneously cussing out your body for reacting to his ministration.

You shuddered when your eyes met with a pair of hard, dark eyes, watching you intently. You had completely forgotten about the other admiral standing in the room, witnessing how his colleague slowly unraveled you with his finger. You wanted to avert your gaze but he didn’t let you. His mere authority prevented you from following your urges so you had to look back, feeling incredibly naked and exposed.

A shy moan crossed your lips when Borsalino hit that sweet spot inside of you while your eyes stayed trained on the other admiral. You saw how Sakazuki slightly shifted, his expression becoming even gloomier the longer he watched you.

Your eyes slowly turned hooded when Borsalino added a second finger, warmth spreading through your entire body and you moved your hips against his fingers the best you could, given his other hand that was still pressing you against the wall behind you.

“Someone seems to get a little excited being watched.” you heard Kizaru’s amused voice from above you. Of course, he had noticed. “Why don’t you give him a better view then?”

You mewled when he removed his fingers and pulled your pants and panties down, exposing your wet pussy to both men. Borsalino’s eyes were immediately on the glistering and soft part of your body his fingers were buried in just moments before but Sakazuki kept his eyes on your face. “Spread your legs a little, okay?” Borsalino purred, one hand slowly moving to your inner thigh and pulling it to the side and keeping it up.

Excitement rushed through your veins when you saw Sakazuki’s eyes drop down after a moment your vulnerable sex. A slight jerk with your hips had Borsalino chuckled in response. Akainu’s eyes were trained on your dripping cunt and your pussy clenched around nothing. You felt hot and cold at the same time; wanting him to look away and keep looking at the same time.

Kizaru’s other hand moved to your cunt against, inserting two fingers inside your and suddenly pumping them in and out at an incredibly high speed. The moan that erupted from your body was guttural and primal and you threw your head back, bumping against the wall.

He was drilling his fingers against your sweet spot over and over again, forcing your orgasm to rush closer and closer. Your legs twitched, your hips rutting against his hand in a desperate attempt to cum.

The sweet feeling of bliss spread through your body, making you feel electrified. Moaning, you dared to look back at Akainu, your eyes catching on to the bulge inside his uniform pants. “Fuck!” you hissed, the word like a prayer on your lips.

Your mind started to wander, imagining what his dick looks like. You wanted him to pull it out and show you, to let your eyes wander over his veiny cock and the flushed mushroom head. You knew he was huge but your pussy wanted to try and fit him inside of you, to envelope his length with your hot core.

You hated yourself for those thoughts but your mind was completely taken in by lust that you couldn’t help it. You wanted the man who had hurt and tortured you to make you feel pleasure. You wanted marine admiral Akainu to touch you in places you shouldn’t even think of, to feel his big hands against your skin while his dick fucked you into oblivion.

You shuddered; you were so close and wanted to cum. Borsalino added a third finger, spreading you wide open. And then, he stopped.

Breathlessly, you looked up at the older male confused but his lazy smile gave it all away. This was an interrogation, after all. You were suddenly painfully aware of this whole situation and tears started to gather in the corners of your eyes. You were in deep trouble.

“Now, Y/n. Should we try this again?” he started, leaving his fingers inside of you but not moving them. “Tell us something about the Revolutionary Army. Anything, really.” You whimpered at his words, pressing your lips tightly together. A single hard thrust was his response and you moaned out.

“For starters, where is your headquarter?” your silence was punished by another hard thrust. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s not that difficult. If you tell us anything we might let you cum.” A threat disguised as a promise but your body craved the release the admiral was not giving you.

“Y’know, we can keep this up however long we want. We can prolong this little journey for days and days. Just imagine what you’ll look like after only one day with my fingers buried deep inside of you, keeping you on edge but not letting you cum.” He mused, fingers pressing against your soft spot as to empathize his words.

But you kept your lips sealed. You’ve endured everything else they had thrown at you, you wouldn’t break now. You’d rather take this little secret down to the grave with you if it came to that. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you broke down here and told them everything they wanted to know.

Kizaru sighed in slight disappointment and started fucking you with his fingers again. You didn’t want to moan but you couldn’t held yourself back, your hips bucking against his thrusts. He continued to fuck you until you were so close, only to stop moving again. Frustrated, you tried to create some friction against your clit by wiggling your hips in a way that would let your sensitive nub rub against his palm but he was fast to remove his fingers completely.

“What a naughty girl.” He commented and analyzed his wet fingers, your slick covering them completely. Embarrassment made your face heat up and you looked down, your leg still being held up by his big hand, his warm fingers slightly massaging your thigh.

“Please….” You panted, your voice quiet. “Huh?” Borsalino looked from his fingers to your face, one eyebrow quirked up in question. “What was that?” he asked. “You need to speak up a little.”

You didn’t lift your head and you didn’t want to speak louder but your mouth moved on its own. “Please…..stop.”

“If that’s what you want, sure.” He drawled, the sinister look creeping up his face yet again. “If you tell us what we wanna know…..” he added. You slightly shook your head no; you could only imagine the satisfied look on his face. “Maybe you need a little more….encouragement.” he mused, his hand finding your wet pussy, cupping it with his whole palm and pressing down with the heel of his hand, grinding it against your clit.

Your stomach cramped at the jolt of pleasure that rushed through your body, a mewl the audible answer. “Oh my, you’re dripping.” He commented, tingling your folds with his long digits but not entering you. “How wet you are for a navy admiral. One could think you’re actually enjoying being taken advantage of by someone like me.” He said with played excitement in his voice as if to praise you. “I don’t.” you panted though your body was betraying you completely.

“Hm? Is that so? Then maybe I should give you a little more.” First, you didn’t know what he meant but he made it perfectly clear when he suddenly dropped down on his knees in front of you, positioning your legs over his shoulder and his face only inches away from your cunt. His hot breath ghosted your wet folds and you looked at him in panic, not believing what you were seeing.

“Don’t!” your voice was high and distressed; the anticipation what was about to come scaring and exciting you at the same time. Borsalino didn’t listen.

You felt his hot tongue glide over your folds and you pressed your thighs together with a loud moan, trapping his head between your legs and not being able to let him go. He didn’t mind. Instead, he went to work and oh God was he good!

Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face whenever the flat of his tongue pressed over your whole sex before slowly and deliciously pulling it back, licking your folds and your clit from back to front before repeating this little spiel over and over again. Your eyes were closed and you were a moaning mess, wanting to spread and close your legs at the same time.

Your legs tried to pull him even closer and he let you do as you please, his hands comfortable resting on your ass, even pressing your body closer against his face. The short stubbles of his beard lightly scratched against your skin, his nose firmly pressed against your pubic bone.

Heavy footsteps came closer and announced the second admiral but you were caught off guard nevertheless when his gloved hand grabbed your chin – his hand feeling enormous – and made you crane your neck and look at him. Your legs twitched around Kizaru’s head while your eyes were trained at Sakazuki, pupils blown due to the pleasure.

“Talk.” Was his single command and your lips quivered to his demanding tone. It sent shudders of pleasure down your body, coating Borsalino’s tongue with even more of your slick juice. You stayed resilient though. At least for now but this resilience started to crumble.

Sakazuki growled deep in his throat, not too pleased with your silence. His grip tightened and you feared he’d might crush your bones with his strong grip but before anything like this could happen, he let go and instead grabbed your hair in a tight grasp, not giving you the chance to turn your head away, forcing you to keep looking at you while Kizaru’s tongue started to rummage through your hole, pressing against your tight walls.

You couldn’t suppress the following moan while your eyes stayed on the second admiral. God, his stare was driving you insane! He was fucking your soul with those harsh eyes even harder than Kizaru was fucking you with his tongue.

For a moment, Sakazuki’s eyes shifted from your face down between your legs where Borsalino’s face was buried between your thighs, wet sounds stressing exactly what he was doing down there.

His tongue moved in and out, his teeth grazing against your clit sending waves of pleasure through your veins. His hands massaged your ass, his thumb inching closer to your asshole ever so slightly, almost unnoticed until it started to tickle a little. Your eyes widened in shock, not wanting him to get anywhere near this part of your body.

“S-stoooohp!” you moaned at a particularly good lick of his tongue. You couldn’t see it but Borsalino looked up from between your legs but immediately noticed that you couldn’t see him so he didn’t pay you any mind.

Your moans started to become more and more high pitched with each lick, with each thrust and with each inch his hand got closer to your hole. “N-not there….!” You tried again but he ignored you, pressing his finger inside your butthole, entering you with his first joint. You didn’t like it but he didn’t care. His thumb patted your insides a little before he shoved it in until his second joint disappeared inside of you as well. You arched your back, trying to get away from his finger but it was useless. As a last desperate attempt you looked at Sakazuki but you immediately learned that he wouldn’t help you. And why should he?

“Admiral Borsalino, sir!” the sudden voice caught all of you off guard and you froze in place. Who was there? Were they coming in? Would they see you like this? Would the two men want anyone else to see them like this?

Sakazuki turned his head towards the door of the cell but Borsalino tried to ignore it, his tongue eagerly licking up your juice.

“Sir? Borsalino?” the person on the other side didn’t seem to want to give up. Borsalino also seemed to notice this fact and with a sigh he turned his head towards the door as well, a dark look on his face, his voice not giving away his anger though.

“What is it? I’m somewhat in the middle of something here.” He said, hoping the marine on the other side would go away. But they stayed persistent.

“Sir, there is a call for you from Fleet Admiral Sengoku!” they informed him. Borsalino sighed dramatically, realizing he needed to leave, even if it was only for a moment. He put your legs down from his shoulders surprisingly gently and got up, his lips and chin glistering from your juice, making you avert your gaze from his face.

“One moment, I’ll be right there.” He announced, wiping your juice away with the sleeve of his suit, licking his lips, a smug grin on his features. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” He drawled, looking up from you to his colleague, his hand pulling something out of his pocked and offering it to Sakazuki. The other admiral looked down, the scowl on his lips only deepening at the sight.

“You’ve planned this all along.” He simply stated, taking the little ‘gift’ Kizaru had offered him nevertheless. “Let’s say I’m always prepared.” He purred before slowly strolling towards the door. “Have fun, Y/n!” he waved at you. “I know you’ll be in good hands. Maybe you will even change your mind.”

When he was gone, the temperature inside the cell dropped by like twenty degrees and you gulped, your eyes still on the closed door, too scared to look up at Sakazuki. You’ve thought you wanted the feral dog to touch you but now that Borsalino was gone you weren’t too sure about this anymore. You remembered the other day where his huge hand burnt your back, leaving you heaving and crying in pain.

How could you think you would want this man to fuck you? Were you out of your mind? When you slowly looked back at Akainu, your muscles tensed up.

“If you think I will continue where that horny bastard has left off you’re mistaking.” He simply informed you, planting himself in front of you, his aura even more intimidating than before.

You watched in fear how his big hands slowly reached down to his waistband, opening his pants in one swift motion. “Watching you get fucked by that bastard’s hands and mouth made me realize something.” He reached inside his pants and you could see his hand work his dick underneath the fabric. “You’re not gonna talk no matter what we do. So why should we waste any more time on interrogating you when we can just….have some fun with you instead and forget about you once we’re done?”

You gulped at his words, your eyes almost rolling out when he pulled out his dick from its restraints, the flushed head glistering from a small amount of precum.

“Spread your legs.” He ordered, leaving no room to argue. Even if you wanted to defy him, your body reacted on its own and you spread your legs, exposing your glistering cunt to his and his eyes alone. You bit your lip, feeling even more exposed at his shameless stare.

You watched him open a small pack with his fingers, eyes widening once more when you realized it was a condom. “You thought I’d fuck someone like you raw?” he said in a condescending tone, rolling the condom over his hard cock.

“You should feel honored that I even consider putting my dick inside of your dirty pussy.” He put his hands on your thighs, spreading them even more before lining himself up with your pussy. Your gaze dropped down between your legs and you almost choked on your own breath. How was he supposed to fit?! He was huge!

You tried to get away from him but his grip was unforgiving, pulling you closer to him. He pressed against your entrance and without hesitation pushed past your entrance and buried himself deep inside your still dripping cunt. You couldn’t event make a sound due to the mixture of pleasure and pain his dick was inflicting on you, mouth wide agape and a quiet scream leaving your throat.

Sakazuki’s body didn’t leave a sound at your tightness but he could feel the stress of the past couple weeks slowly leave his body when he started to move inside of you. He hasn’t had sex in a long time and as much as he would like to deny it Borsalino had a point in his change of approach though he doubted the older admiral had anticipated that he’d be called out of the cell and leave Sakazuki alone with you. But he wasn’t complaining. He could fuck you to his heart’s content without some yellow monkey interrupting him.

Fear clung to your body like a second skin and the tears you tried to hold back so bravely were now running down your cheeks, uncontrollable sobs leaving your body. I thought he’d kill me! You always thought you didn’t fear death; that you would welcome it like an old friend once your time came but GOD! – how much you had been mistaking! You didn’t want to die!

“Worororo.” The mace was slowly retreated and Kaido watched your sobbing form in front of him. “Are you scared of dying?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I like the look of fear on your face. I want to see it more often.” His words made you shudder in fear. What does he mean? Didn’t he want to kill you?

He got up, weaving two steps to the side, the alcohol slightly clouding his senses. You didn’t date look up at the man in front of you, wishing he’d just somehow forget about you and let you leave but this was futile, you knew. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him reach for something out of your sight and shortly after something black was dropped in front of you.

“Put it on.” He demanded. Your eyes skimmed the black leather piece, decorated with small metal thorns. It was a collar! Incredulously, you took the collar in your hands, your fingers feeling the cold, stiff leather. Why did he have something like this?

“Put it on!” he got louder and you flinched at his demand. With shaky hands you put the degrading piece of ‘jewelry’ around your neck, the leather tightening around your throat and you felt like it was already choking you.

“Wororororo. Get naked. Pets don’t wear clothes.” Your body acted on its own and piece after piece dropped to the ground, exposing your over the years as a pirate trained body, some battle scars and slightly dried skin from the salty sea water. The emperor’s eyes wandered over your body while he took another huge chug of his sake before realizing it was already empty. Angrily, he smashed the empty bottle on the ground; you had to dodge some broken pieces that flew in all directions to not get hit.

“Bring me new booze!” he yelled at you, his furious eyes piercing you. Your body was frozen in place and you couldn’t move, even if you wanted to.

All of a sudden, you were choking in his grip, legs in the air, struggling for support, your hands clawing at his huge hand.

“Useless pet.” He growled, his grip tightening around your neck, the thorns of your new collar poking into his hand but he barely felt anything. Since his hand was so huge he was not only choking you but also crushing your upper body with his iron grip. You felt that your bones were about to break, pain rushing through your body. You couldn’t decide what you should focus on first; your lack of air filling your lungs or the quiet crunching of your body.

Kaido’s eyes narrowed at you, then they looked past you to an entering subordinate. “Kaido-sama, I-“ but he was cut off. “Bring me more booze!” the emperor ordered the man, walking back to his throne, your body like a doll in his huge hand. At least his grip eased a little, giving you room to breathe properly again.

He sat down and placed you on his thigh, his hand moving down from your neck and upper body to your hips, his grip holding you in place. You weren’t sure how to behave but you knew for a fact that any wrong movement would trigger this unpredictable man and you weren’t keen on finding out what else he would do to you.

The first time he took you it was hell. He took you to his bed and you knew what he wanted to do even without telling you. He ordered you to get on your knees on his bed. When you tried to fight him he simply pressed you down with ease. You heard a rustling noise behind you and out of the corner of your eye you saw how he took out his huge member and your breath caught in your throat. This is never going to fit! Your mind screamed and you just wanted to get away from him. But it was futile.

He wasn’t a big talker during sex and he didn’t appreciate it when you pleaded with him to let you go, to go slower and give you some time to adjust. It hurt like hell and after he was done your body was a giant ball of pain. Your body was covered in his cum and he just pushed you out of his bed, telling you to get lost.

The times after that were no better. Each time, he thrusted into your body like it was some kind of sex doll, pressing your face into the mattress to shut you up. His deep grunts were the only sounds that filled the room and to your dismay he wasn’t someone who came fast. It was an ordeal.

The first time you had to suck him off your jaw just locked and you couldn’t close it afterwards. It took a while and a lot or effort and pain to be able to close it again. Kaido just watched you in amusement, his cum dripping out of your mouth and dripping onto your exposed chest.

Kaido had also no shame in getting walked in on, just continuing with either fucking your mouth or pussy while his subordinates just awkwardly telling him the latest news. It was humiliating but there was nothing you could do about it.

Over time, you got used to his treatment and had learned to ‘always be prepared’, as bad as it sounded. You had realized that it was bearable when you stretched yourself beforehand. Was it humiliating? For sure. Was it necessary? Absolutely. Kaido once caught you stretching yourself and since then he had you do it in front of him. He liked the show.

You were on all four again, your rear exposed to the emperor behind you, your core already dripping. Kaido took his place behind you, his hand stroking his erect dick lazily. His other hand was holding the bottle of booze, taking a huge gulp. You felt his dick press against your entrance, pushing further and further until the tip disappeared inside of your pussy. You grabbed the bed sheet with your hands, trying to relax around his member.

With a fast snap he buried himself inside of your body completely, taking another gulp of his booze. Some of it dropped onto your back, the cold liquid giving you goosebumps. His hand found its way into your hair, grabbing it uncomfortably tight. His hips started to move against your body, hard and merciless. He was only chasing his own orgasm and he didn’t care if you enjoyed it or not.

A clatter echoed through the room and you saw the bottle burst into a thousand pieces. His now free hand found its way on your hip, pressing you against his body. His dick was filling you out and the sheer force of his thrusts made your body jerk back and forth on the bed.

Kaido let his nails rake down your body, leaving red and bloody streams on your skin. You arched your back, clenching around his dick in response. Kaido raised his eyebrow at your response and chuckled. His pace got faster and his hand on your head pressed your upper body down on the bed, his body leaning over yours, his other hand supporting his weight on the bed next to your head.

“Ah!” you panted, a seemingly long forgotten feeling spreading through your body – lust. The emperor’s fierce thrusts actually made you feel good! – and you didn’t know what to do. Never would’ve you imagined that this brutal man could actually manage to please you, even though it probably wasn’t his intention at all.

The small pants became more frequent and turned into moans, the sound of raw skin on skin slapping against each other made your stomach tingle in excitement and for the first time you started to actively move against him.

Kaido was moving inside of you like a wild animal, his animalistic instincts taking over and he took you like a wild beast in heat. Apparently, he was quite fond of your moans since he didn’t press your face into the mattress as usually when he wanted you to shut up.

“K-Kaido-sama!” you moaned, trying to look at him over your shoulder but he wouldn’t let you. He huffed, a low growl rumbling through his chest and his grip in your hair tightened. The good feeling inside of you grew stronger and stronger, a tight knot forming inside of you, threatening to burst with each thrust.

Even in his drunken and animalistic state he noticed how your pussy started to tighten around his dick and he knew you were close. “If you wanna cum, cum. But don’t expect me to stop.” He warned you. It was the first time he actually talked to you while he was buried inside of you. A desperate moan left your body and you tried your hardest to prolong your own orgasm but each thrust made it harder and harder.

With a specifically hard thrust he finally pushed you over the edge. Colorful spots spread across your vision, blurring your surroundings as you cam hard around his dick, your walls clenching and unclenching. A loud moan filled the room when you came, your body trembling due to the sheer force.

But Kaido wasn’t done yet. His stamina was impressive, really, but right now you hated him for it. The high you were just on slowly faded away and his hard thrusts brought you back to reality. You wanted to complain, to tell him to stop but you knew better. As uncomfortable as the feeling right now was, he was in a good mood. And you would be the most stupid person to try and change that.

When he finally came with a low grunt on your back he didn’t push you out of his bed immediately. He was lying next to you on the bed, his breath already even again. There was a silence between the two of you for a moment, before his deep voice broke it.

Your damp hands pulled down the zipper of your jacket, clumsily letting it fall to the floor. It took you while to pull the shirt over your head, your whole body shaking in fear. You kept your eyes low, not looking at the two men in front of you. The red bra you were wearing complimented you breasts but right now you wished you had chosen the one with small kittens on it. Maybe it would’ve changed their mind of some reason if they saw you with ‘childish’ underwear. At least that’s what you were telling yourself.

You didn’t realize that you stopped moving until there was an annoyed clearing of a throat. The tears blurred your vision when you opened the button of your pants, small teardrops falling to the wooden floor, disappearing from your sight.

The thick fabric of your jeans felt alien against your skin; it scratched your skin when you pulled them down. Every fiber of your body was reluctant to step out of the pants but you did, leaving you in nothing more than your underwear and socks. You instinctively covered your chest with your arms, eyes looking somewhere on the ground. Their gazes left cold trails all over your body and you felt dirty and used just by their looks.

“Go get Borsalino. He needs to assess her worth and if he can use her.” The bosses deep voice cut through the air like a sword. You felt cold. Your body was trembling in fear at what or who was about to come and you didn’t want to find out but there was nothing you could do. Vergo simply nodded before he walked past you and out the room, leaving you alone with the Yakuza boss.

You heard the sound of a pen scratching over paper but you didn’t dare to look up. Maybe he would forget about you….

“Turn around.” He simply demanded. A quiet whimper left your mouth but you obliged, moving like a robot without any grace. You felt his eyes skim your backside, imagining how his eyes lingered on your butt for longer than necessary. You wanted to puke but you swallowed it down, the fear of the consequences weighing heavier than your current situation.

“Get naked.” His words sounded like they were wrapped in cotton; far away and not directed at your but your body understood that you wouldn’t get out of this. “Please….” You sobbed, looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes red and swollen, your lip quivering, your last hope being that he could change his mind. This wasn’t the case.

“We can do this the easy or the hard way.” The Yakuza informed you, letting your mind wander as to what ‘the hard way’ could possibly be. Scenes ranging from him undressing you to him shooting you scared you so much that your hands reached behind you, opening the bra shakily, letting it fall to the floor. Your sobs were louder than before; there was no way for you to hold them back anymore. Desperation and hopelessness clouded your mind, your life already flashing before your inner eye.

When your panties slid down your legs and eventually pooled around your ankles you were full on crying, your back shaking with every breath you took. He felt no mercy.

“Turn around.” He demanded, his voice like a spell, robbing you of your own free will. Your hand was firmly pressed over your most private part, your other arm shielding your breasts from his eyes. The man was not amused. “Put your arms down. Or I’ll help you.” He threatened. Something broke inside of you and you shook your head frantically, reaching down for your panties to pull them back up, grabbing your bra in the process as well before searching for the rest of your clothes.

“No! Please, leave me alone!” you half yelled, half pleaded with him, your face a single mess. You could make out his head cocking to the side but you couldn’t see his expression. Was he mad? Was he amused? Was he irritated? Was he furious? You didn’t know but you didn’t care. Your hands tried to find the rest of your clothes on the floor. The tears took your vision, blurring everything and making it hard to find them.

“Oh? What a delightful view.” You froze in place. You didn’t know this voice coming from behind you but you could only imagine the sight that was greeting this person; you, on your knees, your butt – even though it was clothed again – facing the door. Through your tears you could make out a yellow suit, worn by an equally tall man like the boss. Borsalino, it shot through your head. He was here to ‘assess’ you.

“Took you long enough, Borsalino!” the boss growled at the other man, the tension between them almost unbearable. “Calm down, Sakazuki. You can be glad I was still around…” Borsalino drawled, slowly striding towards you, his hands buried inside his pockets. “You could tell me who this little beauty is.” His focus was entirely on you when he crouched down next to you, arms casually resting on his thighs.

You looked up at the man, fear plastered all across your face. This was no good. You should get up and run away, far, far away from here and never look back. This man – even though he was smiling at you nicely – was no good news. He was dangerous. But you couldn’t find your clothes, you couldn’t move and you couldn’t run away, even if you forced yourself to. You were trapped, like a mouse in front of a cat with the back against the wall.

“You have some very nice-looking breasts, dear.” You heard him comment and you blushed at his words. What? His eyes were inspecting them as if he was looking at a painting, trying to figure out the deeper meaning behind it. “Hm, and judging by the shape they’re real as well. Very, very appealing I must say.” He mused, the smile never leaving his face.

“Would you kindly stand up for me, dear? I need to take a closer look at you.” He inquired, holding out a hand for you to take to help you get up. “Please…let me go….” You whispered, looking at him pleadingly. Maybe he was more reasonable than the boss? But he didn’t waver, his hand still in place for your to take.

Defeated and with new tears running down your face, you let go of the clothes you’ve already gathered and took his hand instead, letting him help you up. “That’s a good girl.” He praised, your hand still resting in his. His palm was warm and smooth, nothing what you had expected. His thumb slowly brushed against the top of your hand, trying to soothe you.

From your hand, he let his glide up your arm until it was lying on your shoulder. You looked up at him, the hot tears dripping from your chin onto your chest. The Yakuza pouted at the sight, his other hand catching a tear on his finger and shaking his head. “Relax.” He simply stated, not helping you to calm down whatsoever.

You watched his eyes slowly move from your face down over your body, inspecting you breasts first with his eyes, then with his hand. The hand on your shoulder remained, holding you in place simply with the weight of it. A whimper left your body at the touch of his warm hand, gently kneading the soft tissues.

“Very nice indeed.” He praised again, slowly making you turn around. You were suddenly faced with the other man in the room who was sitting back relaxed in his chair, watching the two of you ‘have fun’. You tried to back up but bumped into the other man who wouldn’t budge one bit.

“Don’t be shy, dear. The boss is the one deciding what to do with you in the end after all, so it’s only natural that he needs to see what he’s investing into, right?” Borsalino explained matter-of-factly, fueling the desperation inside of you only more.

You felt both his hands roam down your chest before his hands cupped them, squeezing them slightly, making you gasp. “She’s gonna be really popular when it comes to pleasing men with her breasts – a little bit bigger than average and just a perfect match for a penis.” One hand slid between your tits and moved up and down, showing the boss your advantages. You felt like a horse ready to be sold to the highest bidder; the longer it went on the dirtier it felt.

Defeated, you looked down, not paying Sakazuki’s reaction any mind. You didn’t want to know if he was pleased or not, your mind accepting the fact what would happen to you eventually. If not today, then another day. You were completely at their mercy.

Borsalino gently pushed you forward towards the massive desk, your legs obeying the man behind you without any condition. As gently as he had pushed you forward, with the same gentleness did he push your upper body down until you were lying on the surface, your breasts squeezing against the wood.

A quick look up told you that the bosses’ eyes were on your face, waiting closely for your reaction. “Now, let us check what I’ve been summoned to do in the first place.” Borsalino purred. His one hand moved up to your head, grabbing a fist full and pulling it back, making you look at Sakazuki directly. You whined at the pain, your eyes trying to look anywhere else but you didn’t dare to.

With horror, you felt the other hand move to the waistband of your panties before pulling them down mid-thigh, exposing your sex to the man behind you.

“No…..I’m begging you. Please don’t do this!” you whispered, pressing your thighs together tightly, hoping he’d lose interest. You heard an audible wet pop when he wet his fingers, leaving a warm trail against your skin.

“Open up, dear. I promise I’ll be gentle.” You heard him say, his finger pressing against your entrance. You struggled in your grip but it was to no avail. You tried to turn around and look at him but his hand was like a vice claw, not giving you and room to move, having to look at the other man in front of him.

A painful moan came out of your throat when his fingers pushed past your entrance, the foreign feeling uncomfortable inside of you. Your hands clawed at the edge of the desk, leaving scratches on the surface. “Stop….please!” you pressed through gritted teeth, cramping harder the deeper his finger pressed.

“Stop moving so much, dear. I don’t wanna break something that is supposed to still be there.” He reprimanded you lazily. The pain and humiliation was too much and you completely broke down crying; your body was shaking, hot tears running down your face, wet snot running down your nose. You didn’t care.

“Ah, here it is!” Borsalino exclaimed delighted, pulling out his finger and letting go of your hair. Your head fell down onto the desk and you didn’t move. You were just crying.

A warm hand patted your hair but you ignored it.

“I’d say she’d make a decent amount of money but the fact that she’ll probably be crying the whole time won’t be too thrilling for everyone. I might know a few people who’d be interested but the question is if you want to keep her for longer….” Borsalino stated thoughtfully, his hand moving to your neck and gently caressing your skin.

“How much would they be willing to pay? The crying is a nuisance but if she can get me 3.6 million yen that’d be a start.” The boss replied, his eyes on you while he spoke. Just because you had a nice body didn’t mean it’d be easy to sell you. Most people he used for his business had at least some experience in the industry and knew how to behave. It was always a little bit more difficult with ‘newbies’ but not impossible. Borsalino was an expert in this field after all.

“Hm….hard to say. She’d have to be trained before we can offer her to anyone. The people I know who’d take her like this wouldn’t pay as much and probably wouldn’t give her back in a condition we could use her afterwards.” Borsalino chuckled at the thought, his hand moving further down your back.

“She could work as a maid before we let her pay back the money. What do you say, boss?” Borsalino suggested, looking at the other man behind the desk. Sakazuki huffed in annoyance that he wouldn’t be able to get his money back faster but he was smart enough to know that his right-hand-man spoke the truth.

“Two weeks. You’ve got until then to teach her. Bring her here by the end of the two weeks and I’ll assess your work. If she’s a lost cause I will either sell her and take the loss or find another way. Until then, don’t bother me with small shit like this. I have a business to run. Can’t believe Vergo came to me in the first place instead to you. If he does this again I will rip him a new one.” He growled, pushing the chair back and standing up.