The storm had fucked the ocean into chaos.
Winds howled like furious beasts, waves rose like writhing titans, and the slave ship cracked open mid-scream—splinters and slaves hurled into the roiling black. No gods answered. No mercy came.
When the sea had finished devouring its prey, it spat out only one survivor.
He hit the shore like discarded meat—naked, bleeding, gasping. His body was a ruin of torn skin and bruised muscle, the hoof-brand on his chest raw and inflamed. A mark of possession. A life of servitude burned into flesh.
Salt-crusted wounds stung like fire. Blood mixed with sand. His cock hung limp between his thighs, shriveled from cold and fear, but it twitched involuntarily—responding to the wrongness in the air. A presence.
He wasn't alone.
A shadow fell across him. A figure loomed—inhumanly tall, coiled in sinewy muscle and sensual threat.
Sandersonia.
Her silhouette was obscene against the storm's dying light. Seven feet of thick, feminine muscle, her body a fusion of predator and seductress. Her bare, powerful legs flexed with each slow step, breasts heavy and full beneath her open coat, nipples stiff against the humid air. Her serpentine lower half slithered behind her, scales glistening like wet jewels. She moved like sin incarnate—deliberate, unhurried, utterly in control.
He looked up at her through one eye, swollen and half-shut. She gazed down at him like a beast studying prey—or worse, a mistress eyeing her next toy.
Her golden eyes slid down his battered body, lingering on the branded chest… then drifting lower, unapologetically, to his exposed cock.
"You poor thing," she purred, her voice a deep, knowing rasp. "The sea was rough with you, wasn't it?"
She crouched beside him, the shift of her weight pushing her breasts forward, so close he could smell her—earthy, musky, female, layered with something darker. Power. Ownership.
Her hand reached out and cupped his jaw—not gently, not violently, but with an unmistakable claiming touch.
"You were on a Celestial Dragon's ship," she said, fingers brushing down his bruised throat. "Which means you're no man. You're a slave. A bred thing. Trained to obey. Trained to please."
He whimpered. Not in denial—but in recognition.
Her lips curled.
"Oh yes," she whispered, her palm now stroking down the line of his chest, over the mark. "I've seen that look before. That quiet, pathetic hunger to be used again. You don't even know who you are without a leash, do you?"
Her hand drifted even lower.
He gasped as her fingers brushed his cock—soft but responsive, twitching to life under her touch like a dog hearing its master's voice.
Sandersonia's grin deepened. "Even now. Half-dead, covered in filth… and this still wants to serve."
Her thumb circled his tip lazily, teasing arousal out of him with humiliating ease.
"Men aren't allowed here," she murmured, "but you're not really a man, are you? You're a toy. And I do so enjoy breaking new toys."
He moaned—raw, desperate. His cock rose slowly under her hand, hardening with betrayal. The air between them was heavy with salt, sex, and submission.
She leaned down until her mouth was beside his ear.
"You belong to me now," she whispered. "You just don't know it yet."
She stood to her full, monstrous height, towering above him like a dark goddess.
"Crawl," she said, not turning around. "If you can move, follow. If not… I'll drag your sorry cock through the sand myself."
And with that, Sandersonia slithered into the jungle.
He lay there, cock stiff, body broken, brain reeling—and knew, with dreadful certainty, that the storm had only just begun.
…
Kael's first sensation was cold.
The damp chill of stone beneath his bare back. The rough scrape of iron at his wrists and ankles. Chains that rattled with every breath he drew. His head throbbed. His body ached. He tugged at the bindings on instinct, a low growl rumbling in his throat when they refused to give.
He was naked. Bound. Vulnerable.
Memories crashed over him like a storm tide—splintered wood, the deafening roar of thunder, salt burning his lungs as he fought to stay afloat. He remembered the shore, pale sand slipping through his trembling fingers, the desperate gasp for air before a giant shadow loomed above him. A single, towering silhouette—far more imposing than anything he'd ever known. Her voice—sharp, cold, and commanding—cut through the haze of his thoughts, harsh as the storm itself.
"Get up and crawl after me, slave. Or I'll drag you by your cock."
A soft, taunting laugh echoed through the cavern, pulling him from the depths of his trance.
"Finally awake?"
Kael's eyes snapped open.
There she stood, his captor, lit by flickering torchlight. A woman unknown to Kael, her emerald hair spilled down her back, golden eyes piercing with cruel amusement. Her curvaceous frame, barely contained by a green bikini top and panties, swayed with predatory grace, a white cape fluttering behind her.
Brown boots and green stockings hugged her left leg, accentuating her power. Kael, chained and helpless, felt his cock twitch under her gaze, his arousal betraying him. Her smirk sharpened, eyes dropping to his straining bulge. "It seems I have hit gold," she purred, voice a sultry taunt, relishing her prisoner's weakness.
Kael's jaw clenched as his cock throbbed, his mind screaming to fight back, but his body refused to obey. His gaze locked on Sandersonia's massive breasts, the sight only fueling his frustration. His words came out sharp, his defiance still strong despite the overwhelming sensation. "Who the hell are you?"
Her smirk widened. "Oh? The little slave has a voice."
"I'm not a damn slave," he spat, jerking at the chains once again. "Release me now, or I swear I'll—"
His words were cut off by a sharp, strangled grunt as Sandersonia moved with lightning speed, her fingers wrapping tightly around his cheeks.
"You'll what?" she purred, tilting her head as she studied him like an insect under a magnifying glass. "Fight? Escape? Poor little thing, still clinging to the idea that you have power."
Kael's breath hitched, but he met her gaze, his defiance clear. "I am Kael Draegon of the Red Fleet. My men—"
Crack.
Her palm struck his cheek with a resounding snap, sending his head jerking to the side. The sting burned.
"Since when do slaves have names?" she sneered. "You're no one. You belong to no one. No family. No crew. Just another branded mutt, waiting to be put down."
His chest heaved with fury, rage boiling through his veins. "You think I'm afraid of you?"
Sandersonia's laughter was low, dark, and almost predatory. "Oh, little slave. Fear isn't what I want from you. You'll have a lot of fun here. Your fate... It's what countless men would die for."
"Let me go!" Kael bellowed, his voice echoing off the cavern walls, but the weight of her words lingered, filling him with a sense of helplessness.
The torchlight flickered violently, casting eerie shadows across the cavern. The air seemed thick with tension, the stone walls closing in on him.
"You've got no fucking claim on me," Kael snarled, jerking against his chains, muscles straining with useless defiance. "Release me, you bitch!"
Sandersonia laughed low and slow, the sound dripping with amusement and something darker. She stepped closer, the heat of her towering body nearly suffocating.
"No claim?" she echoed, tilting her head with exaggerated pity. "You washed up on Amazon Lily like wreckage—filthy, broken, and begging to be owned. You trespassed on sacred ground, little man. The Empress would've slit your throat without a second thought."
She crouched to his level, massive breasts hanging heavy and swaying close to his face. Her hand slid under his jaw, forcing him to look up at her. Her nails grazed his skin—not enough to pierce, but enough to warn.
"But me?" she purred, her lips brushing against his ear. Her breath was hot, humid, teasing. "I saw potential. I saw... use."
Kael tried to twist away, but she gripped his jaw harder, keeping him locked in place.
"You're mine now," she whispered, her voice a slow, deliberate promise. "Not because you earned it, but because I took you. And here, conquest is law."
Her other hand dragged slowly down his chest, her touch almost gentle, mocking his resistance. "And the Kuja?" Her smile turned wicked. "We don't let our toys go. Not when they're this much fun to break."
Kael thrashed, muscles straining, chains clinking violently with each futile jerk. His pride burned hotter than his rage, but all of it was drowned under the sheer weight of her presence. She was too close, too much. The scent of her skin, the heat rolling off her massive body, the way her shadow swallowed him whole.
Sandersonia didn't flinch. She just watched him with a slow, hungry smirk, her massive tits swaying inches from his face—taunting him. They looked impossibly heavy, barely restrained by that pathetic excuse for a sash, dark nipples visibly hard against the thin fabric.
"Still fighting? Cute," she murmured, voice thick with amusement and promise. "But let's be honest… You wouldn't still be breathing if you weren't packing something worth keeping. Big for sure," she purred, voice dark and mocking. "But even that might barely do for a woman like me."
She dragged her finger along his jaw again, tilting his chin up like he was nothing more than a toy to inspect. Her eyes met his—cold, hungry, merciless—before trailing down his bare, restrained form.
Her gaze paused on the hoof-shaped brand scorched into his chest. The flesh was raw, angry, still healing. A grotesque badge of ownership that hadn't faded with time. Her lips curled in amusement, not pity.
"Look at this," she murmured, leaning in close, her breath thick with jungle heat and venom. "Branded like cattle. You remember this mark, don't you, Kael? The Tenryuubito's hoof!"
Her voice dipped, something raw slithering beneath the cruelty—a wound still festering. "What's a runaway slave doing on my shores?"
His jaw clenched tight, fury burning in his storm-gray eyes as he fought the chains biting into his wrists. "Get your fucking hands off me!" he barked, voice rough, worn by salt and war, but still unbroken. "I'm no one's slave anymore—I broke free. I'll die before you chain me again."
She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
In a flash, she was on him.
Her body crashed into his like a wave slamming into rock—unyielding, overwhelming. Her hand hit his chest hard, slamming him flat against the stone floor. Then she straddled him, thighs thick and strong, locking around his sides, caging him beneath her like a beast that had claimed its prey.
Her skin gleamed with sweat under the firelight, her weight heavy and sure as she ground herself slowly against his stomach, "The heat radiating from her clothed cunt said everything. She wasn't just playing.
Kael sucked in a breath, his body betraying him. His cock twitched, stiffening fast beneath her slow, deliberate pressure.
She looked down at him with a smirk full of cruel amusement. Her tits hung just above his face—huge, swaying slightly with each shift of her hips, nipples hard and dark against her bronzed skin.
"Feel that?" she murmured, her voice husky and thick with promise. "That's your new life, right there. As long as you're under me... You get to keep breathing."
She rocked her hips forward, grinding her hot, soaked pussy just above his cock without letting it touch. "Try to bite me again, and I'll make sure you only breathe when I'm riding your face."
Kael's breath caught, every muscle tensed—but he couldn't stop his cock from throbbing, full and aching beneath her.
Sandersonia grinned, sharp teeth flashing in the dim torchlight—a predator savoring her prey. She leaned in, breath hot against his lips, breasts pressing into his chest, nipples dragging through sweat and grime. Claiming him with every slow shift of her body.
"That mark on your chest? It's not just a symbol of your past," she hissed, her voice dropping to a low, menacing growl. "If you try to run, if you dare escape, that brand will seal your fate. You'll be hunted like prey, tortured in ways you can't even begin to comprehend. Your body will no longer belong to you. The suffering you think you've outrun? It'll be nothing compared to what's waiting for you."
Her breath ghosted over his lips, thick with heat and venom, her face so close he could see the fire behind her eyes.
Her eyes flickered over his form, her gaze dark and possessive. "And let's be clear, Kael—your current situation, the pain you're feeling now? Some men would call it a blessing. A paradise compared to what your future holds if you think you can run from me. From what you've already earned with that brand."
His muscles clenched as her words sank in. But she wasn't done.
"Kuja law says I should spill your blood for stepping on this island," she whispered, each word laced with venom. "But that's too easy. Where is the fun in that?"
Her fingers slid lower as her palm dragged down the hard ridges of his stomach, dipping toward the root of his cock. She felt the twitch beneath her palm and saw the flicker in his eyes—panic, rage... and that stubborn, traitorous flicker of arousal he couldn't suppress.
"Fair's fair, isn't it, Kael?" she purred, her voice a low, rich melody laced with danger and amusement. "Behave, and perhaps my Kuja sisters will find a use for you—as entertainment or stud—and perhaps if you are lucky, you may have the bliss of bedding many virgin Kuja maidens."
"Fuck you!" he roared, his body writhing beneath her like a cornered animal, voice ragged with fury. "I'm not your fucking toy," he spat, each word laced with venom, even as his body grew more tense with the unwanted heat rising within him.
She tilted her head, studying him with amusement. "Oh, but you are. You'll learn soon enough that you're not in control here. And once you realize that, you'll be begging for more."
But she only laughed—a low, cruel sound, utterly unconvinced, cutting through his defiance like a blade. Then she shifted her hips, her moist panties allowing the heat of her arousal to brush the base of his now erect cock.
"Don't need to judge you, Kael," she murmured, her voice husky. "Your body's already answering for you."
She shifted backward, her movements unhurried and intentional, every motion laced with desire. Her hand slid down, fingers curling firmly around his hardening cock. She began to stroke him—slow, smooth, and deliberate—each glide of her palm sending a wave of heat through his body.
A sharp breath escaped him, catching in his throat as the pleasure spiked as blood surged south, his cock stiffening to full hardness in her grasp. His composure began to crack, hips subtly rising to meet her rhythm. Sandersonia's eyes sparkled with a wicked delight, lips curled in a smirk of satisfaction as she watched him unravel beneath her touch.
"There it is," she purred, tightening her hold just enough to make his hips jolt. "Your body's honest, even when your mouth isn't."
She stroked him again—slow, maddening, and relentless—her grip just tight enough to make him shudder. Her fingers worked him with practiced ease, teasing him with every slick glide and sudden pause. His breath grew ragged, muscles drawn tight, teetering on the brink of release.
But just as he began to tense, just as that peak neared with unbearable intensity, she stopped.
Her hand withdrew, leaving him pulsing in the silence, painfully hard and utterly denied. The sudden emptiness was torture, his arousal hanging in the air like static. He groaned, hips twitching in a silent plea.
She watched him with a smug, satisfied glint in her eye—completely in control, and loving every second of it.
"Not yet," she murmured, smug satisfaction dripping from every syllable. "You don't get to cum unless I say so."
She rolled her hips, rubbing her slick pussy on his cock, coating it with her dripping folds but never letting him sink inside. Her giant hips tightened around his thighs, locking him in place as she continued to grind against him, slow and deliberate, teasing every inch of his aching, hot meat rod.
His breath hitched, muscles rigid with restraint. He clenched his fists, biting back any sound, but his cock betrayed him—thick, twitching, slick with her wetness.
"That's it," she cooed, lips curling into a wicked smirk, voice thick with taunting glee. "Rage all you want—it's sweeter when you fight. Makes the breaking richer."
She dragged her soaked cunt along his cock again, slow and mean, smearing his precum with her slick. She wasn't in any rush—she wanted to feel him break. She wanted to see the rage in his eyes flicker, die, and be replaced by something baser. Something he couldn't fight.
"You think you're some warrior queen?" Kyle gritted out, voice rough, his body taut beneath hers. "You're just a fucking beast playing god."
Sandersonia laughed—low, sultry, and laced with menace. She leaned in close, her breath ghosting over his skin. Fangs grazed the shell of his ear, and then her forked tongue flicked out, tracing the sweat trailing along his jawline. He twitched beneath her, a shiver betraying him despite the venom in his words.
"Beast or queen," she whispered, her voice a molten purr, "I'm still the one on top."
She dragged her tongue down his throat, slow and deliberate, savoring the way his pulse jumped.
"Men always talk big," she murmured, her thigh pressing tighter between his legs, "until they're underneath someone stronger. Pinned. Used. Taught."
Her fingers curled under his jaw, forcing his gaze to hers—feral and gleaming.
"Tell me, Kyle," she said, lips brushing his, "how long before you forget pride and start begging like the rest?"
She shifted, lining herself up, the blunt head of his cock pressing against her soaked entrance. And then—she sank down slowly.
Just the tip at first.
Tight, scorching heat swallowed him, her cunt gripping, pulsing, a slow, torturous stretch around his cock. A sharp hiss slipped past her lips, her walls fluttering as she took him in inch by inch. A pulse of Haki rippled through the air, suffocating, making his muscles lock up, crushing him beneath the sheer weight of her presence.
Kael groaned, a strangled, furious sound. His cock twitched inside her, stiffening to full, aching hardness, his body surrendering even as his mind screamed in defiance.
"Stop—fuck—you—" he rasped, voice breaking. But his hips jerked up, chasing her heat, desperate for more.
Sandersonia laughed—low, dark, dripping with triumph.
She rocked against him, slow and deep, massive hands pinning his wrists above his head, keeping him locked beneath her. Each downward grind forced him deeper, every drag of her slick walls milking him, using his cock as a dildo. Her tits bounced with every roll of her hips, the heavy swell of them pressing into his chest, nipples dragging over his skin.
"Oh, you don't want me to stop," she whispered, clenching down hard, her cunt tightening like a vice.
His body jerked, a strangled moan ripping from his throat, his composure cracking despite the anger boiling in him.
She could feel his body betraying him—his arousal, undeniable, pulling him closer into her trap. "You're cracking already, Kael," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Look at you—hard and almost cumming inside the very beast you fucking hate."
Her fingers brushed lightly against him, teasing the wetness that had formed, her tone turning darker. "Feel that shame, Kael. Feel how my pussy wraps around your cock like a leash. Let it sink in. You're mine now."
His glare burned, his teeth bared, but he couldn't stop the way his body responded. Couldn't stop the pleasure burning deep—slick, hot—a betrayal in every throbbing inch of his cock. Sweat dripped down his temples, trailing along his heaving chest as their bodies slammed together, wet, obscene sounds echoing off the cavern walls.
"This is a Kuja ritual," she snarled, slamming down harder, her grip on his wrists unyielding. Her nails pressed into his skin, drawing thin lines of blood as she pinned him down with ruthless force.
"No man has lasted more than a few days," she whispered in his ear, her voice a low, dangerous growl. "You'll break just like the rest."
Her rhythm turned brutal.
Hips snapping. Clit grinding against his base. Pussy milking his cock with every savage drop of her hips.
She bounced her boobs with ruthless hunger, her moans growing deeper, throatier, rolling from her chest in wild, primal gasps. Kael cursed, fought, thrashed—but his cock betrayed him, throbbing, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in his gut, burning hotter than his shame.
"Fuck—fuck you—" he gasped, voice cracking.
She smirked.
Leaned down.
Bit into his shoulder—hard. Fangs sinking deep, marking him like a predator claiming prey.
"Cum for me, slave," she commanded, voice dark and dripping with satisfaction.
And he broke.
His roar tore through the cavern as his orgasm crashed into him—cock pulsing, spilling inside her, thick ropes of cum filling her greedy cunt.
Sandersonia rode him through it, grinding down, milking him dry. Her hips bucked, her breath hitched, and with a sharp, shuddering hiss, she came—clenching around him, pussy spasming, wringing him empty. Her tail lashed behind her, waves of pleasure wracking her monstrous form.
She stayed seated on him, his softening cock still trapped inside her, smirking down at him with lazy, victorious satisfaction. Her claws traced down his sweat-slick cheek, smearing the mix of sweat, tears, and defeat clinging to his skin.
"See, Kael?" she whispered, voice soft but cutting. "You're mine now."
She rolled her hips again, slow, cruel, making him twitch inside her, overstimulated and spent.
"Amazon Lily's law says you die," she murmured, dragging a claw down his throat, feeling the frantic thrum of his pulse. "But I say you serve."
She moistened her lips with a slow, deliberate flick of her tongue. Leaning in, her breath caressed his skin as she pressed her lips to his in a kiss, soft but charged with dark intent. Pulling away, her chuckle was low, knowing.
"And this?" she murmured, voice dripping with promise. "This... is only the beginning."
... The air in Sandersonia's chamber clung like steam to skin—thick, oppressive, scented with musk, sweat, and the faint trace of sex that hadn't yet faded from the stone. Torchlight flared and danced, casting long shadows that crawled over the damp walls, flickering over the chained form of the man she'd already broken once.
Kael knelt, wrists chafed raw in iron restraints, chest heaving with shallow, stubborn breaths. His body still bore the bruises of their last encounter—some from her strength, some from his struggle, and a few… from the way he'd given in. Not once. Not willingly. But he'd come for her all the same.
And they both knew it.
Sandersonia crouched beside him, the sinuous power of her body folding with eerie grace. Her presence was suffocating—too large, too close, too knowing. Her golden eyes gleamed as they swept over him: the cuts, the sweat-slick skin, the slight twitch of his cock despite the humiliation anchoring his gaze.
She reached out, dragging a clawed finger down his jaw, over the dark stubble and the bruise blossoming beneath one eye. The touch was casual. Claimed. Like he was already hers, and this was just maintenance.
"You look even prettier like this," she purred, licking her lips as if recalling the taste of him. "Bruised. Sweaty. Starving."
Her hand shifted, and she pulled forward a low tray—skewered meat, sliced fruit glistening with juice, and a small flask of sake nestled between them. All of it is still warm.
"Can't have my favorite toy collapsing on me," she murmured.
Kael barked a bitter laugh, jaw tightening. "So this is what it is now? Feed me, fuck me, leash me?"
She gave him that slow, indulgent smile—the one that made his blood run hot with shame and something worse: need.
"No, Kael," she whispered, brushing hair from his eyes like a lover might. "This is what it always was. You're just done pretending otherwise."
She took a piece of meat from the skewer and held it to his lips—not roughly, but expectantly. Like she'd done this before. Like she'd feed him, whether he bit or not.
He stared at it, lips tight. But his body betrayed him—a pulse at his throat, the involuntary hardening of his cock despite everything. Despite her.
Sandersonia's grin widened. Her voice dipped, low and honeyed with promise.
"Eat. You'll need your strength. I haven't decided if I'm going to use you again tonight."
And just like that, she decided for him, pressing the food to his mouth with slow, steady pressure, until he opened.
Not in surrender. Not in obedience.
But because part of him wanted to survive whatever she had planned next.
"Slave," she murmured, voice thick with amusement, with ownership. "Won't you open your mouth for your mistress?"
Kael clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening as he glared up at her. A final act of resistance.
Sandersonia chuckled, unfazed. Indulgent. She tilted her head, watching him like a cat watching a trapped mouse.
His jaw clenched. Always stubborn. But hunger had no pride, and when the scent of charred meat hit his nose, resistance faltered. He bit into the offering, tearing the meat from her fingers, chewing silently while she watched with an amused glint in her eyes. She continued feeding him, alternating between juicy fruit and tender strips of meat, watching the tension in his shoulders ease, just slightly. The faintest trace of begrudging acceptance.
When he'd eaten his fill, she uncorked the flask of sake, swirling it lazily before bringing it to his lips.
"Drink."
He hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Trying to get me drunk?"
Sandersonia smirked. "No, just relaxed. Don't flatter yourself."
He knew better than to trust her. But his throat burned, dry and tight, and his body wasn't inclined to turn down relief. He drank. The sake was smooth and warm, coating his throat, pooling in his belly.
At first, it was subtle. A creeping warmth that wasn't just alcohol. A slow bloom of heat in his limbs. His heartbeat quickened. His breath thickened. Then came the throbbing ache between his legs—the slow, lazy pulse of arousal.
His eyes snapped to hers, suspicion flaring.
"What the hell did you—"
She silenced him with a finger to his lips, grin sharp as broken glass.
"Just a little something to keep you from tiring too soon."
Kael bucked against the chains, growling, but the movement only worsened it—the friction, the heat, the pressure between his thighs. His cock twitched, swelling fast, already hardening with humiliating eagerness.
Chest heaving, he bit down on a curse.
Sandersonia's fingers drifted down his torso, tracing the ridges of his stomach, stopping just short of his cock—her touch featherlight, maddening.
"Ah, there it is."
He flinched, breath catching as his cock jumped at the contact, thick and pulsing.
"Look at this," she purred, eyes gleaming with cruel delight. "Typical man—spitting curses while your cock begs for more."
"Fuck you," he rasped, voice raw and cracking.
But his hips betrayed him again, twitching upward, desperate despite himself. Precum gleamed at his tip, leaking freely, shamelessly.
Sandersonia smiled, triumphant.
"Oh, I will," she promised, fingers curling around his cock, stroking him slowly—firm, possessive. "And when I'm done, you'll beg me to do it again."
Sandersonia's smirk widened, triumphant, as she pulled away, leaving him throbbing in the air, untouched, aching. She shifted, straddling his hips, her scaled thighs clamping around him, her bare cunt—hot, wet, and dripping—pressing against his stomach, leaving a slick trail as she ground down, just enough for him to feel her heat.
"Your body knows its place," she whispered, leaning down, her lips brushing his ear, forked tongue flicking out to taste the sweat on his skin. "Even if your mind refuses. The Tenryubito branded you, tried to break you, but I think they didn't have enough time—now I'll finish the job. My way."
She slid lower, slow and deliberate, dragging her pussy down his abs, then his groin, until his straining cock pressed against her hips—not inside, just barely grazing. Slick heat coated him as she rocked her hips, her juices smearing along his shaft. He groaned, a choked, angry sound, chains rattling as he fought to pull away—but his cock betrayed him again, twitching against her, desperate for more.
Sandersonia grinned, drinking in his struggle. "I bet not even the Celestial Dragons let you rut," she mused, voice thick with mockery. "Not even the slaves they threw scraps to." She rolled her hips again, slower, crueler. "For all your rage, you're still living a better life under me than you ever did in their chains."
"Stop it—damn it—" he snarled, but his voice cracked, his glare faltering as she ground down harder, her wetness soaking him, the smooth scrape of her scales grazing his inner thighs.
Her eyes gleamed. Her hand slide up, pushing his chest, pinning him flat as she hovered just above his cock, letting him feel her heat—without giving him release.
"You don't get to stop this," she hissed, her fingers digging into his jaw with bruising force. His head snapped toward her, caught in her grasp, forced to meet the blazing gold of her eyes. "You think pain makes you strong? That silence is defiance? No, slave… that's just fear dressing itself up as pride."
She leaned closer, her breath hot against his face.
"Men like you always think you're the ones in control. You survive, you fight, you fuck—and you think that means you own your fate." She gave a low, humorless laugh. "But look around you. Look at your chains. Your bruises. Your cock twitching at my touch."
She sank—not fully, just enough to take his swollen tip inside her scorching cunt, her walls gripping, teasing, milking him with cruel precision before she pulled back. He gasped, hips jerking up instinctively, desperate to bury himself in that unbearable heat—but she denied him, laughing low and sharp.
Again. And again. A slow, merciless rhythm—sinking just enough to stretch around his tip before slipping off, her slick juices smearing over his cock, mixing with the precum drooling from his slit. His length throbbed, painfully hard, twitching every time she hovered above him, her clit brushing along his shaft, tormenting him with every shift of her hips.
"Look at you," she purred, rolling her hips, rubbing her soaked folds along his aching cock. "Straining for me like a beast in heat. Kuja, don't lose to men."
She leaned in, lips curling at his ragged, shuddering breath. "You should be grateful," she whispered, forked tongue flicking against his jaw. "The stronger a Kuja is, the tighter, the wetter—our cunts are. Other men would fucking kill just to get what I'm giving you."
"Fuck—off—" he choked out, but his body betrayed him. His cock pulsed, throbbing against her, balls drawn up tight and heavy, every nerve screaming for more—for everything she refused to give.
Sandersonia smirked, sliding down fully this time, taking him deep in one slow, torturous thrust—her monstrous cunt swallowing him whole, stretching tight around his girth as she hissed in pleasure, her tail lashing the ground. She rode him with deliberate cruelty, unhurried, her massive hands pinning his wrists to the cold stone, hips rolling in a rhythm crafted to torment. Her breasts bounced with each slow grind, her eyes glinting under the torchlight, her wetness soaking his groin as she fucked him—slow, deep, controlling every inch.
"You hate this, don't you?" she purred, her walls clenching around his aching cock, wringing a ragged moan from his throat. "Hate how good it feels—how much you need it." She leaned in, breath hot against his ear, voice dripping with venom. "Men are all the same—fighting, raging, acting like you're in control. But the moment you get a taste of real pussy, you cum so easily."
She sped up—just enough to push him to the edge—watching his face twist, rage melting into desperation, his cock pulsing inside her, precum spilling as his release built, climbing fast.
"Go on," she taunted, voice a dark, mocking hiss. "Beg me. Beg the bitch you hate to let you cum—prove what a pathetic, cock-drunk little slave you are."
"No—fucking—way—" he choked out, but his hips bucked harder, thrusting up to meet her, his body screaming what his mouth refused to admit.
Sandersonia grinned, slammed down once, twice, then stopped. She lifted off him completely, leaving him throbbing, leaking, inches from the brink.
He roared, a raw, frustrated sound, chains clanking as he thrashed, his cock slapping wetly against his stomach—denied, desperate.
"Not yet," she murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. She slid off him, her soaked cunt leaving a slick trail along his shaft, her arousal dripping onto the stone beneath them. "You don't get to finish until you break—until you beg your mistress like a proper slave. That's the only release you'll ever earn."
She straddled his chest, her wet folds hovering just above his face, close enough for him to smell her—earthy, wild, intoxicating. Her massive fingers traced his lips, smearing her juices across them.
"Taste what you can't have," she whispered, grinding her hips just out of reach, letting him feel the heat-the promise of relief she refused to grant.
"Please—" he rasped, the word slipping from him before he could stop it—hoarse, broken.
Sandersonia froze—then laughed, dark and triumphant, the sound curling through the air like a victory song.
"Oh, that's a start," she purred, leaning down, her breasts pressing against his chest as her tail slithered up his legs, spreading them wider. "But not enough. Beg properly, slave—or I'll leave you like this, aching and useless."
His glare burned, teeth gritted in defiance—but his cock throbbed painfully, dripping onto his stomach, his body betraying him. He was too far gone. There was no fighting it.
"Please—fuck—let me cum," he finally spat, the words ripped from him, humiliation burning hotter than the need coiling in his gut.
Sandersonia's eyes gleamed, victorious—but she didn't move. Didn't touch him. Just hovered above him, her soaked cunt dripping onto his chest, her heat a cruel, taunting whisper against his aching cock.
"No."
She slid off, rising to her full height, her massive form casting a shadow over his wrecked, trembling body—cock still hard and leaking, chains rattling with every desperate shudder.
"You haven't learned your place yet," she mocked, stepping back. "A slave who can't keep his mistress happy isn't worth the effort."
She turned, tail flicking behind her as she walked away, leaving him there—aching, throbbing, ruined. Her laughter lingered as she disappeared into the darkness.
"Sleep on that, Kael. We'll try again tomorrow—until you're mine, body and soul."
The door slammed shut, plunging him into the silence of his humiliation, his body a mess of unspent lust and shame, her words echoing in his mind.
Sandersonia's satisfaction soaked her. His resistance was crumbling.
And she'd savor every single crack.
---
Commissioned by Anonymous
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