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Chapter - 135 Filling greedy Stussy. Meeting Shakky. (R-18)
🕑 Added 2025-04-30 22:21:04 +0000 UTCHe impaled her relentlessly as she cried out for more, her moans echoing with desperate need.
Their bodies collided in a raw, unrestrained symphony of lust, the rhythm of their debauchery stretching on for hours.
Stussy eventually lay sprawled and motionless on the floor, utterly spent—her flawless skin marked with the evidence of Lakeman’s rough and dominating passion. Every hole of hers overflowed with his thick essence, dripping slowly onto the polished floor beneath her.
Nearby, Robin, Lily, and Hancock—who had only tasted a lesser share of Lakeman’s merciless pounding—were still conscious, albeit barely. Their bodies trembled, slick with sweat and the scent of sex heavy in the air.
The three beauties gathered their strength, determined to tend to their master. Wordlessly, they supported him, guiding his exhausted but satisfied form toward the grand bath chamber, leaving the ravaged Stussy behind, still twitching with aftershocks of her ruin.
But even that wasn’t enough to keep the perfect spy down for long.
Minutes later, Stussy stirred, her legs trembling as she rose shakily, fluids still leaking from her abused form.
Gritting her teeth through the soreness, she followed them with staggering determination—her pride as Lakeman’s devoted spy-slut refusing to let her fall behind. She caught up just as they were entering the steaming bath.
Lakeman lounged against the edge of the bathing pool, his head nestled comfortably in Hancock’s lap. Her long fingers combed through his hair, gently washing away sweat and lingering traces of their lustful battle.
The contrast of her serene movements and the raw chaos they'd just endured made the moment strangely intimate.
Stussy stepped in, her legs wobbling but her eyes burning with devotion.
Lakeman tilted his head slightly, a devilish smirk curling on his lips.
“As expected of my perfect spy slut,” he said, voice rich with amusement and approval. “After taking all that pounding, you can still stand.”
Stussy blushed through the soreness, her breasts rising with each labored breath, her pride swelling under his gaze. Hancock, ever graceful, smiled faintly while continuing to rinse his hair, her thighs gently cradling Lakeman’s head like a lover tending to her king.
The scent of exotic oils mingled with the steam. The air buzzed with sensuality, dominance, and obedience—a perfect haven for the man they worshipped.
After finishing their steamy bath, the girls tended to Lakeman with devoted care, drying and pampering every inch of his tall, sculpted body.
Their hands moved with gentle reverence, dabbing with towels, brushing his damp hair, and dressing him in his finely tailored clothes piece by piece. Robin buttoned up his crisp shirt, Hancock adjusted the collar with a soft smile, while Lily knelt to clasp the golden buckles of his boots.
They moved like trained attendants—but with the warmth of lovers and the grace of slaves who lived only for him.
Once Lakeman was fully dressed, they proceeded toward the dining hall, walking together in quiet harmony.
Lakeman sat at the head of the grand dining table, the main seat adorned with plush cushions and gilded frames.
Robin and Hancock flanked him on either side, their eyes full of restrained desire and devotion.
Lily, ever diligent, guided the maids in serving the dishes, ensuring everything was perfect before she gracefully joined them at the table.
Yet beneath the luxurious table, hidden from the gaze of the maids but well known to the other women, Stussy knelt in silence.
Her golden hair framed her flushed cheeks as her mouth stretched eagerly around Lakeman’s rod, which pulsed with heat and power. Her throat swallowed him again and again, her skilled lips wrapping around his shaft with practiced precision as she fed on her favorite delicacy—her master's cock.
She bobbed her head hungrily, moaning softly around the girth in her mouth, savoring every twitch, every drop of pre-cum.
As Lakeman ate, his fingers calmly holding his utensils, his face betrayed only a subtle smirk of satisfaction—barely flinching even as pleasure radiated from beneath the table.
With a soft wet pop, Stussy pulled his slick rod out of her mouth, a thin string of saliva stretching between her lips and his tip. She gently massaged his length with her delicate fingers, stroking him slowly, her voice husky with lust.
“Master,” she asked, licking her lips, “shall I call Princess Scarlet to serve you next?”
“No need,” Lakeman replied coolly.
Without another word, his hand slipped beneath the table and gripped her short, wavy blonde hair tightly.
He forced her down again, burying himself back into the hot, wet embrace of her throat. Stussy didn’t resist—she welcomed the dominance, swallowing him whole again as the rhythm resumed.
Glrk… glrk… glrk.
Soft gags mixed with sultry moans echoed from beneath the table.
Schlk… pop… slurp…
Stussy’s cheeks flushed deeper with every thrust of Lakeman’s rod down her throat, her golden lashes fluttering as tears welled in her eyes from the force.
Yet she kept going, her lips sealing tight, her tongue swirling, her throat milking him with each bob of her head.
Gulp… gulp.
The other girls acted unbothered, entirely used to the obscene soundtrack of Stussy’s oral worship. Hancock delicately brought a piece of glazed meat to Lakeman’s lips, smiling sweetly as he accepted it without a word. Robin wiped his chin with a silken cloth. Lily sat with perfect posture, watching attentively in case her master gave her a command.
Schlick… glk… glk… pop.
With one final, wet pop, Stussy pulled off his cock again, her mouth messy with saliva and seed, chest heaving. She didn’t speak this time. Lakeman’s firm hand gripped her by the hair again and stuffed her back down his length with no warning.
Gkk—glrk—slurp.
Dinner was complete in every sense of the word—his stomach filled with food, his lust constantly teased by his devoted girls.
Eventually, the plates cleared and the maids dismissed, Lakeman and his women retired to the bedroom—no words spoken, no orders needed.
That night, the villa transformed into a temple of sin.
Thwap… thwap… thwap.
The sharp slap of skin against skin echoed through the massive chamber.
Ahh… ahh…
mmmgh…
yes… deeper!
Moans filled the air like a song of worship, layered with gasps, cries, and the rhythmic smack of bodies in passionate motion.
Beds creaked, furniture trembled, the scent of sex thick and unrelenting.
Squish… smack…
plap-plap…
Hancock rode him with trembling elegance, her back arched and breasts bouncing in the candlelight. Robin moaned beneath him, her legs spread wide as he drove into her depths with relentless force.
Lily clung to his arm, kissing, licking, begging for a turn. Stussy, ever the insatiable one, switched between mouths and holes, never letting her master go unloved for even a moment.
Hour after hour passed in their carnal playground.
Their voices were hoarse from screaming. Their bodies were sore from the endless pounding. The sheets were drenched in sweat and white.
By the time dawn broke, none remained untouched.
All lay sprawled, tangled in each other, limbs limp, chests rising and falling in shallow breaths, bodies glistening in the soft light.
Only Lakeman remained buried among them, buried in his harem of beauties.
When noon arrived, the sun poured through the tall windows of the villa bedroom.
Lakeman stirred.
His crimson eyes slowly opened, his breath calm and collected despite the debauchery of the night. Around him, the girls remained motionless, passed out in every corner of the vast bed, their nude bodies wrapped around him and one another.
Soft snores. The subtle shifting of tired limbs. The musky scent of their indulgence is still heavy in the air.
Lakeman sat up with regal composure, rising from the pile of beautiful, ruined bodies.
He stretched, bare and unashamed, his skin still marked with scratches, lipstick stains, and nail trails.
Stepping out from the sea of sinful flesh, he glanced back once with a smirk, pleased by the aftermath of his lust.
It was a new day, and there was still more to claim.
After another steamy bath and a fulfilling meal, Robin, Hancock, and Lily departed to train—each determined to hone their strength for their master’s future needs.
Meanwhile, Lakeman and Stussy headed toward Grove 13 of the Sabaody Archipelago, their destination: the infamous Shakky’s Rip-Off Bar.
The bar, notorious for its absurdly high prices and its owner’s brutal response to unpaid bills, stood quiet under the midday sun. As Lakeman and Stussy pushed open the creaking door, a soft bell chimed above them.
The bar was empty of customers. Only Shakuyaku—Shakky—sat in a relaxed slouch, smoking casually as she flipped through intelligence reports spread across the table.
She looked up at the sound of the door and prepared to lash out at the one woman who had been disturbing her every day, chasing away customers with her presence: Stussy, the shameless CP0 agent.
But the words caught in her throat.
Her gaze shifted beyond Stussy, landing on him—the boy cloaked in casual dominance, with blood-red eyes and an aura more terrifying than the worst storm at sea.
Shakky felt her cigarette twitch at the corner of her lips, her spine stiffening. A ripple of humiliation and helplessness surged through her heart as her eyes met those of Saint Lakeman.
She knew him.
She remembered.
The man who owned Hancock. The Celestial Dragon of the highest rank. The one who could summon an Admiral—or raze an island—on a whim.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
Shakky lowered her eyes. Despite her age and hardened experiences, a wave of self-disgust swelled in her chest.
She had failed to protect Hancock, her proud successor, and failed to save her from being auctioned like cattle. And when she found her again, Hancock was already... broken—molded into Lakeman’s perfect toy—devoted, obedient, and loyal beyond redemption.
She couldn’t save her then.
And she couldn’t save herself now.
She had held herself back out of fear. Fear that this boy, this monster in noble clothing, might erase Amazon Lily with a single command.
As if her legs remembered all that before her mind caught up, a trembling unease crawled up her body.
Lakeman's voice shattered the silence.
“Stussy, you were right,” he said with amusement, scanning Shakky from head to toe. “Shakuyaku is quite the beauty. Well-qualified to be my slave.”
Shakky’s breath caught.
It felt like the sky itself cracked. Her instincts screamed. She didn’t want to become someone else’s property. Never. Not after everything. Without thinking, she turned sharply and bolted for the door.
But she never made it.
BOOM.
A colossal wave of Conqueror’s Haki exploded through the air like a black storm.
Invisible, but crushing. Violent. Royal. Absolute.
The room trembled. Bottles shattered. The ceiling lights flickered.
Shakky froze mid-step—her mind screaming, her body betraying her.
This wasn’t ordinary Haki. It was overwhelming. Crippling. Monstrous.
She fell to her knees with a thud, her breath shallow, eyes wide in disbelief.
“I’ve only ever… felt this… in Rocks…”
Her vision blurred. Her mind reeled.
This pressure, this strength—it surpassed even what she’d felt under Rocks D. Xebec, her former captain. She remembered those old days—when she, alongside titans like Shiki, Whitebeard, Kaido, Big Mom, were all under Rocks’ command. She remembered the chaos, the madness, the raw strength.
And yet now, she knelt before this… boy.
Lakeman withdrew his Haki casually, as if brushing dust off his shoulder.
He stepped forward, fingers tilting her chin up with ease. Her face lifted, trembling, and flushed, caught between fear and shame.
“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue lightly, his voice indulgent. “Such a pretty face and such a hot body. And you’re what—43 now? Still tight. Still ripe. And more importantly… an intelligence dealer.”
His thumb grazed her lips slowly, smearing a trace of her lipstick.
“Not bad. I gain both a stress reliever... and a tool.”
Shakky shuddered under his touch.
“But…” he mused with mock disappointment. “These lips… far too dark. Blackened from all the smoking.”
“Master,” Stussy purred beside him, smirking, “you should try new flavors sometimes.”
Shakky shot her a venomous glare. Stussy only smiled wider.
“Well,” Lakeman chuckled, “you are right.”
He trailed his finger down to her throat and whispered with amused menace, “You weren’t trying to run again, were you?”
“I… I won’t run again…” Shakky muttered through clenched teeth.
Her tone was bitter. Defeated. But real.
“Good girl.” Lakeman grinned. “Seems your intelligence is back online.”
Stussy snickered. “I was almost going to suggest Master call for a Buster Call on Amazon Lily.”
“Don’t tease her, Stussy,” Lakeman replied calmly. “Hancock is my beautiful, devoted slave. If I destroy Amazon Lily, she’ll cry. And I can’t bear to see tears on her face... unless I’m the one making her cry—while pounding her.”
He smiled, then leaned close to Shakky again.
“Won’t you agree to be my slave? To be my devoted, loyal toy? Just like Hancock. After all, you were the previous empress. She was your successor. If both queens become my little sluts, maybe Amazon Lily will prosper like never before.”
His hand massaged her lips again, possessively and slowly.
Shakky’s body trembled under his touch, but something shifted.
Gradually, she stilled. Her breathing evened. She raised her eyes and met his gaze.
Without a word, she parted her lips and took his thumb into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around it slowly, lips closing tight.
She sucked gently, then firmly—eyes locked to his, as if offering her silent answer.
Surrender?
Or the beginning of something else?
Only she knew.
Lakeman, of course, could have read her memories. Her thoughts. He could have known every plan, every emotion. But he didn’t.
Because where others sought security, he sought fun.
And in his invincible life, he didn’t fear betrayal.
Not anymore.
After all, under the system’s continuous hundredfold feedback from the geniuses bound to him, in two months’ time—he would be unstoppable.
The golden hue of the setting sun poured through the dusty windows of the closed bar, casting long shadows across the wooden floor.
The silence was thick, broken only by the faint creaking of floorboards as Lakeman paced slowly around Shakky, who knelt in the center of the room.
Gone was the confident, unflinching ex-pirate empress. In her place knelt a woman stripped bare—not of clothes, but of certainty. Her leather coat lay discarded, her cigarette crushed under a boot, her pride trembling behind narrowed eyes.
Shakky lowered her gaze, her chin still lightly marked where Lakeman had held her.
“You’re learning your place quickly,” Lakeman said calmly, his tone neither mocking nor cruel—just absolute. “That’s good. A smart woman knows when to kneel.”
Her jaw clenched.
Smart. That’s what she was.
And that’s exactly why she was still kneeling.
This wasn’t surrender. Not really.
It was survival.
It was calculation.
Her mind churned beneath the still surface.
‘Endure. Wait. There’s always a crack. A misstep. I’ve escaped worse. I’ve endured Rocks. I’ve danced between emperors. This... this too shall pass.’
But her body—her body wasn’t listening.
Lakeman’s presence was unlike anything she’d encountered. His movements weren’t grand gestures of control. No. His domination was subtler, deeper. His words didn’t shout—they commanded through silence.
Every glance from those blood-red eyes made her nerves tighten.
Stussy, watching from the edge of the room, smirked knowingly, crossing her legs as she leaned back in a chair. She had seen this too many times—another strong woman reduced to a trembling tool of pleasure and loyalty.
“Tell me, Shakuyaku,” Lakeman said, halting behind her. “How many years did you believe you were free?”
She remained silent.
“How long did you think your strength made you untouchable? Your wit. Your charm. All wasted on the illusion of independence.”
His hand brushed her shoulder, slow and deliberate. She flinched—not at pain, but at how much it affected her.
“Answer,” he commanded softly.
“...Forty years,” she finally murmured.
“And in all those forty years... were you ever truly claimed, fucked sensless?”
She swallowed.
“No.”
“Then consider this your awakening.”
He stepped forward, his boot pressed lightly against her thigh, then slid downward to tap her knee.
“Lie down.”
There was no hesitation in his voice. No threat.
Yet it was the most terrifying command she’d heard in decades.
She obeyed.
Not because she wanted to. But because her instincts knew what resistance would bring.
As her back touched the cold floor, her mind screamed at her to plan—to remember—to resist later. But her pulse raced. Her breath hitched. And the weight of Lakeman's aura pressed on her like gravity, pinning her in place.
He hovered above her—not with desperation, not with lust. But with complete control.
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