UchihaRemant
patreon
Chapter - 160 Gods Don’t Kneel—But They Moan. (R-18)
🕑 Added 2025-06-21 22:11:05 +0000 UTCIn the new palace of Skypiea, crafted by Stussy and Shakky from golden clouds and reinforced skystone, two glowing figures materialized within the throne hall—naked, their robes obliterated one final time by their last exchange.
Lakeman stood tall.
Imu stood across from him, hair flowing like liquid void, her chest rising slowly with each breath.
Both stared at one another.
Then… they looked away.
Slightly embarrassed.
Even gods… recognized when they had almost ended the world.
The golden palace of Skypiea was silent.
Crafted from ancient cloudstone and skyforged crystal, it floated high above the world—untouched by chaos, war, or the cries of the mortal realm below.
And within its grandest chamber—between gilded pillars of light and skyglass—stood two naked figures, still steaming from the clash that had nearly unmade the world.
Lakeman.
Imu.
The air around them was charged—not with hostility now, but with something far heavier.
Power.
Pride.
Tension.
Their robes had been destroyed again, but neither moved to summon replacements.
They simply stood, glowing with post-battle divinity, breathing slowly, the storm behind them still crackling faintly across the atmosphere.
Imu’s inhumanly beautiful form shimmered with a faint violet glow, her eyes like collapsing stars, her long hair flowing without wind. Her chest rose and fell slowly, the only sign of fatigue.
Lakeman stood just as tall, broad shoulders relaxed, his eyes locked on her face with an unreadable smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Then, for the first time since their battle began…
Imu spoke.
Her voice was soft but resonant, neither feminine nor masculine—transcendent.
“You’re the first… to stand equal with me in eight hundred years.”
Lakeman tilted his head slightly.
“No one’s tried?” he asked.
“They all died.”
She took a slow step forward, hips moving with quiet poise, unbothered by her nudity. “But you… you’re different.”
She paused.
“Rule the world with me,” she said, voice clear. “Be my queen.”
Lakeman blinked.
Then he barked a laugh.
“I’m a man,” he said casually. “If anyone’s being a queen here, it’s you.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You dare mock me?”
He shrugged. “Not mocking. Just being honest. I sit on the throne. You kneel beside it.”
A silence crackled between them—tighter than the one before their fists clashed.
Imu’s jaw clenched slightly.
“I do not kneel.”
“And I don’t bend.”
The tension thickened, their divine presence bleeding back into the chamber again. Power sparked across their bodies.
Even here, in the high clouds, the sky dimmed slightly—light bending in fear of their egos.
Then Lakeman chuckled again.
“Let’s not break the world twice in one day.”
He stepped closer, eyes gleaming with wicked charm.
“I’ve got a better idea.”
Imu’s gaze narrowed with guarded curiosity.
“Oh?”
Lakeman leaned in, whispering close enough for her breath to catch against his lips.
“Ten days. You. Me. No powers to numb anything. No suppressing pain. No controlling pleasure. Just raw, unfiltered sex.”
Imu blinked—actually stunned.
Lakeman continued, grin now feral.
“Whoever cums the most… loses.”
“If I win,” he said, brushing his fingers down her bare waist, “you become my queen, my slave, my personal little goddess. You serve me forever.”
Imu’s expression didn’t change—but her cheeks began to color.
“And if you lose?” she asked slowly.
“You can keep me,” Lakeman said. “As your prize. Your ‘king.’ Do whatever you want. Rule beside me. Or sit on me.”
The silence that followed was electric.
Imu’s glow faltered slightly.
Even after eight hundred years… even after millennia of watching civilizations rise and fall from her throne… she had never been touched.
No one had been worthy.
Until now.
Her lips parted slowly.
“…I do not accept defeat,” she said, voice softer.
“Then prove it,” Lakeman whispered.
She looked away for a moment, clearly torn between pride and the heat rising in her core. Her thighs shifted subtly. Her body reacted, even if her mind resisted.
“…We’ll do it,” she said at last.
“But first…”
She raised her arm, and with a pulse of energy, a wave of silver light swept across the planet.
Lakeman followed her lead.
Together, they stood at the heart of the storm—and in moments, the world stilled.
The earthquakes…
The tsunamis…
The collapsing skies and weather anomalies…
All faded.
Their power, now working in harmony, washed across the world like a divine balm.
Mountains healed. Storms scattered. Oceans calmed.
Life returned to the land.
As for the millions who had died in the crossfire—crushed by falling cities, swallowed by waves, torn apart by natural collapse?
Neither Lakeman nor Imu flinched.
“…The deaths of a few ants,” Imu murmured, “mean nothing to gods.”
Lakeman nodded. “Agreed.”
Then, with a flick of his hand, a robe materialized over his body. Imu followed a moment later—her aura weaving silk-like robes around her form once more.
She met his gaze with something between challenge… and arousal.
“Ten days,” she said simply.
Lakeman smirked.
“Ten days.”
The sky trembled above Skypiea.
In the golden throne hall—suspended high above the shattered earth—two beings stood not as rulers, but as gods cloaked in mortal skin.
The battle that had shaken the Red Line had ended hours ago, but what now unfolded promised to shake the heavens in an entirely new way.
They had agreed on the terms.
Ten days.
No powers.
No suppression.
The one who surrendered to pleasure most… would lose.
But this was no mere contest of lust.
This was a divine war between two entities who refused to bow.
Lakeman stood shirtless, tall and calm, eyes fixed on the woman who had ruled the world from the shadows for centuries.
Imu—flushed but proud—held his gaze, draped only in a translucent robe that shimmered like starlight.
Her skin glowed faintly under the divine sky, her curves exposed as if sculpted to mock even goddesses.
But despite the sheer sensuality of her appearance, her eyes were still sharp, defiant, cold.
Until he stepped forward.
And she blinked.
Just once.
Lakeman’s hand moved.
Confident. Intentional.
He drew her robe from her shoulder—slowly—watching as the fabric slipped away from her collarbone, down her arms, and finally off her body. She didn’t stop him. She wouldn’t.
Her pride wouldn’t let her flinch.
But her breathing changed.
So did her aura.
Lakeman’s gaze traced her form—her breasts full and firm, nipples already stiff from the air; her toned stomach rising and falling as she steadied herself; her thighs pressed together out of instinct she refused to acknowledge.
‘Even after 800 years, she’s untouched,’ he thought.
And now—his to break.
He took her wrist, not roughly, but with absolute control, and guided her down onto the silken altar rising in the center of the room. Its cushions parted like waves under divine touch.
She lay back.
Not submissively—yet.
But breath held, lips parted.
His body lowered over hers, their bare chests brushing—skin against skin. The first direct contact made her gasp softly—barely audible, but heard by both of them.
Lakeman whispered, “Your body reacts faster than your pride.”
Imu smirked through the flush on her cheeks. “Let’s see who loses control first.”
He kissed her.
A deep, overwhelming kiss—one that claimed her mouth, devoured her breath. She tried to respond in kind, to press her tongue forward, to match him stroke for stroke.
But he overpowered her effortlessly.
Every flick of his tongue.
Every bite to her lip.
Every press of his hips into hers—
It forced her body to respond.
She gasped against his lips, her thighs parting slightly without her permission.
She noticed it.
So did he.
Lakeman’s hand slid down, brushing over her ribs, grazing the side of her breast. Her body arched subtly—so subtle she might’ve denied it.
But he felt the tremble.
He whispered into her ear, “You’re not ready.”
Then he began.
The First Hour
It was slow.
Torturously slow.
Lakeman traced every inch of her skin with lips, tongue, fingers. Her neck. Her shoulders. Her collarbone.
He circled her breasts with hot breath before finally taking one into his mouth.
She bit her lip. Hard.
Not a moan. Not yet.
But her hands had gripped the cushions.
“Hiss”
He rolled her nipple between his teeth—just enough to make her inhale sharply.
Then the other.
He moved lower.
Kissing down her stomach.
Teeth grazing her navel.
A hand gripping each thigh and spreading them apart.
Imu froze.
The air was thick now. Her thighs trembled slightly, her toes curling. She looked down at him—not with authority—but with anticipation and something more dangerous:
Fear of losing.
‘She’s never been touched. Her body’s divine, yes, but her will isn’t invincible.’
He didn’t move fast.
He circled her inner thighs with his tongue, teasing the sensitive skin, feeling each tiny shiver she couldn’t hide. His breath ghosted over her pussy.
She gripped the cushion harder.
Still silent.
But her chest rose faster. Her face was flushed. Her eyes glassy with building heat.
Then—
His tongue found her pussy.
She cried out Softly.
“Mmh”
Just one sound.
A moan, muffled but real.
Her pride shattered for a moment. Her back arched. One hand flew to his hair instinctively—not to push away, but to hold him there.
He smirked against her.
‘First moan. First crack.’
‘No… I won’t break. I can’t. But… what is this feeling?’ Imu whispered in her heart.
Every flick of his tongue sent fire up her spine. Her legs betrayed her—opening wider. Her breaths turned into whispers, then whimpers.
She cursed her body.
And hated how much she craved it.
He wasn’t gentle.
But he wasn’t cruel.
He was precise.
He knew how to push, where to press, when to pause and when to smother her senses completely.
And worst of all—he enjoyed watching her unravel.
It didn’t take long.
Imu’s body spasmed.
Her first orgasm hit her hard—her legs clenching, voice caught in her throat as her hips bucked against his mouth.
“Ooohh”
She gasped.
She moaned.
She arched.
And when she came back to herself, her eyes widened.
He was already smiling up at her, licking his lips like a king who had claimed his first treasure.
“One,” he whispered.
She burned with embarrassment… and arousal.
Nine and a half days remained.
The golden hall was still steeped in heat.
Imu lay beneath him, her breath uneven, lips parted, chest rising and falling in rapid rhythm. A faint sheen of divine sweat glistened across her skin—her pride bruised by the first collapse.
One.
He had marked it. Counted it.
That smug whisper still echoed in her head.
“One.”
Her thighs still trembled slightly from the aftershocks, her body stunned by sensations it had never known—but her eyes, now narrowing again, regained their focus.
‘He thinks I’ll crumble so easily?’ she thought, the blush on her cheeks deepening—not from pleasure now, but from the sting of being challenged.
Imu sat up.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Lakeman leaned back slightly, watching with amusement. His body still glowed with confidence, the taste of her still on his lips. His eyes danced along her movements—ready, waiting.
But then—
She moved.
Not with hesitation, but with grace.
Divine poise returned to her limbs, and the goddess in her rose again. Naked, unashamed, flushed but proud—Imu crawled into his lap, the silk of her long hair brushing across his chest like whispers of starlight.
She leaned into him, her breasts pressing against his firm chest, her voice low and velvety in his ear.
“You counted one. I hope you know how to count higher… because I intend to bury you in your own game.”
Before he could answer, her lips were on his.
This time, it wasn’t about being overpowered.
It was about overwhelming.
Slurp
Her tongue slipped into his mouth with surprising boldness, her kiss deep and wet, filled with defiance and heat.
Her hips rolled slowly in his lap, teasing his cock against her warm pussy, still slick from her earlier fall.
Lakeman’s hand instinctively grabbed her waist, but she slapped it away lightly—smiling against his lips.
“No touching,” she whispered, her breath trembling but steady. “Not until I say so.”
Then her mouth traveled—down his jaw, along his neck, pausing at his collarbone.
“Hiss–”
She kissed, bit, and sucked, drawing small gasps from him. Her tongue traced over his chest, trailing circles around each nipple before flicking across them with just enough pressure to make his body flinch.
“Hhmm”
A low growl rumbled from his throat.
But she didn’t stop.
Imu’s fingers ghosted across his abs—slow, teasing, reverent.
Her nails grazed the deep grooves of his muscles, tracing every inch of his sculpted form with divine care.
Her breath came light and shallow as her mouth drifted lower, warm air brushing along his skin like a lover’s whisper.
Haaah…
A quiet breath caught in her throat as she reached his waist. She paused there for a heartbeat—just a moment of stillness, as though bracing herself for what came next.
Then her lips parted.
Schlick.
Her tongue slid along the underside of his shaft in one long, wet stroke—slow, deliberate, intimate.
The taste of him coated her tongue instantly, warm and heady. Her eyes fluttered shut, a faint shiver rippling through her spine.
“Mmmn…” she moaned softly, savoring the flavor, letting it linger.
But she didn’t stop.
Her lips closed around his cock, inch by inch, devouring him with divine grace. Her tongue cradled him beneath, guiding him deeper into the soft heat of her mouth until he was fully buried.
Slurp… slrp… glk… glrk…
Wet sounds echoed softly in the chamber—obscene, rhythmic, hypnotic.
Her head began to move with calculated rhythm, her cheeks hollowing with every pull, every bob. Her lips clung to him, her throat flexing as she adjusted to his size, adapting naturally—almost unnaturally.
“Hiss”
Lakeman let out a sharp hiss of breath, his hands clenching behind his back.
‘She’s… gods, too good. No way this is her first…’
But it wasn’t experience.
It was something more primal. A goddess’s instinct. A woman’s vengeance.
Glrk… slrp… glrk…
She moaned around him—“Mmmhhh…”—low and deep.
It wasn’t a sound of submission. It was power. She wanted him to feel it. Every vibration. Every tight tremor of her throat.
And he did.
His body responded.
His breath hitched.
His abs flexed, tension rippling through his core.
His eyes fluttered shut for a brief second—lost in it—then opened again just in time to watch her pull back.
Pop.
Her lips released him with a wet snap, leaving a trail of saliva stretching from her tongue to the tip. Her mouth glistened, chin slick, lips swollen and red. Her chest rose and fell in quiet pants.
Haaah… haaah…
She looked up at him, her voice husky and proud. “Now… we’re even.”
Lakeman smirked darkly. “Not quite. But you’ve earned your first.”
He reached down, his fingers threading through her hair, gripping the back of her head firmly. She didn’t flinch.
She leaned into his grip.
“Then give me what’s mine,” she whispered, lips brushing his tip.
Lakeman's breath deepened. His hand held her in place.
“Open.”
She obeyed.
Mouth wide.
Tongue out.
He didn’t need to thrust.
His body jerked once—and then—
Hnnngh…!
A deep groan tore from his chest as he released. Thick, hot streams erupted from him, splashing onto her tongue and across the back of her throat.
Splrt… splrt… slrrk…
Imu moaned as it hit her—“Mmmhh…!”—but didn’t pull away.
Her throat tightened, working with practiced instinct as she swallowed around him, the rich taste flooding her senses.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
Her eyes fluttered again, her cheeks darkening from the sheer heat of it all.
She didn’t spill a drop.
When the final spurt subsided, she gently slid off his shaft with another soft pop, catching a trailing strand with her finger and licking it clean.
Slrrp.
Then she exhaled—hot and slow—her voice dripping with husky satisfaction.
“…Still think that was just my first?”
Lakeman looked down at her, amused, his voice rough with afterglow.
“No,” he murmured. “You’ve earned round two.”
His hand slid down her cheek.
She licked her lips slowly.
And smiled.
_______________________________________________
Thank you to our amazing Patrons for your incredible support and contributions to our work. You're all legends.
[Buddyschlym]: THE GODLY FAN - $50 Pledged
[Shang Ling]: A Die Hard Fan - $20 Pledged
[Harley Morrison]: A Die Hard Fan - $20 Pledged
[Evil_Bob]: A Die Hard Fan - $20 Pledged
[Haralds Mārtiņsons]: A Die Hard Fan - $20 Pledged
[ [ ] ]: A Die Hard Fan - $20 Pledged
[H Hhhh]: A Die Hard Fan - $20 Pledged
[Justin Mercado]: A Die Hard Fan - $20 Pledged
[Phantom Knight who can’t think of a better nicknam]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Raphael Mewes]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Turtle King]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Eric]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Dragonman97]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Colin Hilterhaus]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Sabo]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Gon38]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Gorama27]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Wilnet Duverne]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Michael McCowan]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[SrArgus]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Braydnpaech]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Henrique Soares]: A Super Fan - $ 10 Pledged
[Felipe Guillen]: A Super Fan - $10 Pledged
[Nicholas Berenguer]: A Loyal Fan - $5 Pledged
[UNfriendly Whatifier]: A Loyal Fan - $5 Pledged
[RealReader743]: A Loyal Fan - $5 Pledged
