One Piece : Start As Celestial Dragon And Take Down Hancock Chapter 194: A Gift for Rayleigh. (R-18)

The tropical dawn, sticky and yellow, pressed against the villa windows, promising another sweltering day on Sabaody.

Inside, the residue of a protracted, ravenous night hung heavy—a musk of sweat, spent energy, and rich, drying sen.

Lakeman stirred, stretching muscles honed by years of relentless dominance, hours before the sun could crest the mangrove trees. He felt the distant ripple in the world’s fabric, a familiar aura approaching the shoreline.

He glanced down at the woman draped across his chest.

Shakky lay splayed, her skin a mottled canvas of bruises and love bites. Her sleek black hair tangled against the pillows. Crimson hand marks tattooed her firm, pale buttocks, testant to the sustained violence of their passion.

A slow seepage of thick white fluid stained the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets beneath her.

Lakeman shifted, pulling his hand back and delivering a sharp, flat smack to one of the raw, red cheeks of her ass. The sound cracked through the humid air.

Smack—

"Wake up, slut."

Shakky inhaled sharply, a gasp that caught in her throat. Her eyes fluttered open, dark and heavy.

"Your admirer simp has co."

A low, guttural sound escaped her, half moan, half acknowledgnt of pain.

"Mmh, Master."

She leveraged herself from the bed, a slow, sensual movent despite the ache radiating through her body. Her legs, toned and powerful, were slick with drying residue.

A thick white cum drips down the curve of her thigh as she padded toward the bathroom door. She offered a languid eye roll, a gesture of exhaustion mixed with devotion, before disappearing past the threshold.

Across the sprawling suite, the other won began to rouse.

Robin, elegant even in her exhausted state, watched the door swing shut, her bronze limbs unfolding from a nest of cushions. Mirana, already moving with the predator’s grace that defined her, gathered a robe. Lily, Stussy, Viola, Scarlet, and Makino, all bearing the obvious marks of a night spent pleasing a single, demanding man, moved toward their respective bathing chambers.

Their bodies told the story: shoulders scored by fingernails, breasts peppered with deep, purple bruises, and the telltale signs of repeated, forceful fulfillnt staining their inner thighs. The communal effort to cleanse the evidence began quietly, a shared ritual of submission and renewal.

Lakeman followed Shakky.

He strode into the steamy air of the master bath, his gaze unwavering as he found her already subrged in the massive, sculpted tub.

She reclined, the water already murky around her. The lower half of her body was hidden, but her face was tilted up, anticipating him.

He stood over the tub.

His erection, imnse and still heavy with dried evidence of their previous exertions, jutted aggressively from his pelvis. Streaks of ruby lipstick and traces of several won’s fluids caked his shaft.

"Clean it up, bitch." His voice held the edge of cold command.

"I cannot fuck you senseless with a dirty cock in front of your forr lover, Rayleigh. Right, slut?"

Shakky’s lips curved into a smile, a predatory flash of teeth. She pushed herself up from the water, her movents dissolving any remnants of the sleepy woman from monts before.

"Yes, Master."

She gave him a slow, seductive eye roll, a private promise of obedience, then leaned forward. She reached out, grasping the rough underside of his shaft, drawing him toward her face. Her tongue erged, dark and practiced.

The first contact was a hot, wet sweep, removing the layers of dry cum and slicking his hardened cock anew.

Shakky focused, a singular intensity in her eyes, working the rough ridge of his crown. Her technique was flawless, the delicate, scraping texture of her teeth avoided completely, replaced by smooth, thorough licking.

Slurp. Slurp.

She lowered her head, taking the rigid column in. Her cheeks hollowed instantly as she swallowed deep, her throat accommodating the impossible girth. She began to suck his cockwith the rhythmic, dedicated hunger of a starved creature.

"Mmmhhh"

A deep, primal groan escaped Lakeman. Pleasure, raw and instantaneous, surged through his core.

He reached down, his powerful fingers locking around the short, damp strands of her black hair, pulling her forward, regulating the depth of her subjugation.

He drove himself into her mouth.

Slurp. Slurp.

Gawgkh.

Pah. pah.

The delicate sounds of gasping and choking filled the marble chamber, punctuated by the thick smack of flesh against her face as he face-fucked her relentlessly.

Her tight throat muscles pulsed, working against the invasion of his cock, a desperate, internal massage that sent jolts of exquisite sensation through him.

"Mmmhhh"

Pah Pah. Slurp.

He held her head firmly, relentlessly, pushing past her gag reflex, demanding that she accept all of him. The pressure is being built in his cock, sharp and explosive, waiting for release.

"Aaahhh, take it all in, slut."

With a final, shattering surge, he emptied himself down her throat. His seed, hot and abundant, hamred against the soft, yielding walls of her esophagus.

Shakky felt the thick white liquid filling her, a rush of life force injected into her body and consud by all her cells, making her stronger.

He pulled back, his breath ragged, the tip of his cock withdrawing slowly from the wet cavern of her mouth. The last ropes of his viscous cum sprayed outward, catching the lower half of her face, coating her jaw, chin, and neck in a thick, white glaze.

"Don’t wash it."

He gave her sharp instructions as he watched the white mask dripping slowly onto her collarbone.

"I want Rayleigh to see the woman he loved, coated in my cum."

Gulp.

Shakky’s throat contracted visibly. She swallowed the mouthful of his seed, her eyes never leaving his.

"Yes, Master. I bet he will love the show of his life."

She leaned in, her movents imdiate and subservient, using her tongue to sweep the final droplets from the tip of his penis, leaving him clean and prid.

Lakeman closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, his Observation Haki expanding, a net thrown wide across the island.

He mapped the approaching forms: Rayleigh, the massive signature of Jabba, and the smaller, chaotic energies of the remaining Roger Pirates.

’They had landed. They moved with purpose toward the villa. Fifteen minutes. Maybe less until they reach here.’

’He did not need the fifteen minutes. He needed to paint her fully with cum.’

He thought as he gripped her hair once more, a fistful of dark silk, and hauled her head up, forcing her gaze to et his.

"Slut, you are not painted enough for Rayleigh to know yet."

He repositioned himself, thrusting his cock against her lips again.

She opened imdiately, accepting the sudden, hard impaling of his cock.

Slurp. Slurp. Pah. Slurp. Gawgkh.

The rhythmic slapping of flesh against her cheekbones resud, faster, harder than before.

He drove into her mouth until her breath was filled with his cock, without any air remaining in her lungs, until she choked on the sheer volu of his assault.

He pushed her throat back to the limit, relishing the way her devotion allowed him to commit this beautiful violence upon her.

Guuwkhh. Slurp.

The sounds of slurping and frantic, swallowed gagging echoed off the tiled walls.

The second wave hit quickly, a sharp, powerful discharge.

"Here it cos. Bitch."

He ripped his cock free just as the pressure peaked, spraying the torrent high across her face.

His hot cum plastered her cheeks, clung to her eyelashes, and spattered thickly into her dark hair, solidifying the mask. It was a proper, comprehensive white facial.

Satisfied, Lakeman stepped away. The water in the tub, the air in the room, everything felt cleaner simply because he had vacated the space.

Shakky remained kneeling, dripping, her face a canvas of devotion.

Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.

–Lick.

She finished her final task, ticulously licking the remaining spatter from his thighs and abdon, ensuring no trace remained save the proof she carried on her skin.

When Lakeman erged from the bathroom, fully dressed in loose, comfortable silks, the other won were waiting. They were clean, their skin radiant, their clothes of different fashions, highlighting their different body sizes, curves, making each display their different charms.

No nervousness touched them. They had seen the asure of their master’s power, witnessed his effortless domination of the world’s true forces. Rayleigh was a ghost, a relic.

Mirana, Stussy, and Shakky stood at the apex.

Years of specialized training and the profound physiological alterations granted by Lakeman’s blessings had elevated them to Admiral level, beings of impossible destructive potential. Two of them could dismantle Rayleigh’s entire gathering.

Robin and Lily, Viola and Scarlet, though Vice Admiral level, moved with the polished, deadly efficiency of assassins, ready to demonstrate the lethal dividends of their strenuous, subjugated lives.

They waited patiently. Then, Shakky arrived.

She wore a simple, elegant dark dress, but the effect ended abruptly at her neckline. The thick, white residue of Lakeman’s cum was still plastered across her face, drying slightly stiffly, caked into the roots of her hair near her temples.

The won barely registered the sight. They were accustod to Lakeman’s elaborate proofs of possession. Only Makino, standing a little apart, her innocence still a fragile shield, flinched slightly.

Robin, always the most perceptive and wry, let a small smile touch her lips, her black eyes glinting with anticipation.

"It seems," Robin observed, her voice low and smooth, "Master has prepared a present for Rayleigh."

Lakeman, walking toward the villa entrance, did not turn.

"The real gift will be the live enjoynt, Robin." He smirked.

Robin giggled, a breathy, excited sound, turning her gaze toward the exit.

"Fufu." She looked at Shakky, who stood proud and stained, ready for her humiliation to begin in front of her past lover.

The mont stretched taut, the silence of the private enclave broken only by the chirping of insects.

Then, the world shattered.

A roar, vast and furious, tore through the air, shaking the very foundations of the villa.

"SAINT LAKEMAN, YOU BASTARD! CO OUT! I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE!"

Rayleigh’s voice carried the destructive weight of unchecked Conqueror’s Haki. It slamd against the villa, a physical force ant to flatten and terrify.

Lakeman did not react. He rely extended his own Conqueror’s Haki, a subtle, imasurable wave of pure, serene power that enveloped the won, dissolving the physical pressure, turning the onslaught into a re breeze.

He moved toward the door, Stussy and Mirana instantly falling into flanking positions. Robin, Makino, and the others followed, forming a devastating retinue.

Shakky remained. She lted into the shadows of the drawing room, a deliberate absence.

Lakeman’s top-tier Observation Haki, the power of ’Observation Kill,’ masked her presence entirely, rendering her invisible to Rayleigh’s searching senses.

They stepped out into the tropical morning.

The villa stood at the heart of a small, cleared space, walled off from the rest of the island.

Outside the periter, a disciplined ring of CP agents stood in protective formation, weapons raised, holding back the small, desperate force that had arrived.

Rayleigh stood foremost, his grey hair wild, his chest heaving with rage.

Beside him, the imnse, scarred figure of Jabba lood, radiating power. Behind them shuffled the remnants of the Roger Pirates—Buggy, manic and sweating; Crocus, ancient and weary; and a few hardened, scarred faces who had answered the call of their old Vice-captain.

Lakeman raised a casual hand. He did not need to exert himself.

Mirana and Stussy advanced first, their steps synchronized, moving with the focused intent of twin hurricanes.

–Swish.

"This old man is all yours," Lakeman directed, gesturing toward Jabba.

Jabba, still possessing the combat skills of an Admiral, albeit one rusted by ti, braced himself. He was instantly bracketed.

Mirana, radiating cold, controlled fury, moved with blinding speed. Stussy, smiling with unsettling sweetness, matched her pace.

"You pirate scum dares to challenge my Master," Mirana stated simply, her voice flat, devoid of emotion, as she launched the first strike—a punch imbued with Armant Haki that hit Jabba’s ribs like a wrecking ball.

Stussy followed up, a razor-edged kick aid at his temple. Jabba managed to cross his arms, blocking the assault, but the sheer force drove him back three steps.

The rest of the won surged forward. Robin, her hands blossoming instantly into a dozen black, lethal appendages, targeted Buggy. Lily and Viola focused on Crocus and the remaining veterans.

The battle was not a clash of equals; it was a brutal demonstration of overwhelming, modernized force against decaying strength.

Robin was the most vicious. She treated the others like pests.

"Haha, eat Buggy-sama’s super-buggy-canon."

Buggy shrieked, firing cannonballs, but the black, giant hands sprouted from the road, grabbing his limbs, twisting them painfully.

"Do you really think a clown like you can stand against the new world order?" Robin sneered. Her eyes glowed with dark amusent.

"Aaahhh, let go."

Buggy struggled and scread, his body threatening to split into pieces, trying to evade the impossible grip.

"We saw the dawn of piracy, the greatest ever! We are legends!" Buggy scread.

"Legends fade," Robin replied, her tone dismissive.

She manifested two colossal hands, coated in deep, obsidian Haki, and brought them together with violent speed.

"Aah–"

Buggy’s frantic cries were cut short by a sickening, wet CRACK.

"And get crushed."

The enormous, clapping hands t precisely where Buggy’s head had been held fast. His skull fragnted instantly, spraying a fine mist of blood and bone fragnts onto the street. The rest of his segnted body dropped to the ground, lifeless pieces of at.

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