Free Web NovelChapter 195: Your Goddess, My Slut. (R-18)
"Aaahhh"
Rayleigh roared. Pinned under Lakeman’s unseen, crushing presence, he tried desperately to move, his muscles straining against the invisible weight pressing him into the asphalt.
"BASTARD! LET THEM GO!"
He watched helplessly.
Meanwhile, the duel between Stussy, Mirana, and Jabba had escalated into a chaotic, terrifying spectacle.
Jabba fought with the desperation of a trapped legend. He managed to land a solid blow, a massive Haki-infused fist that connected squarely with Mirana’s jaw.
–Boom.
The impact sent her tumbling, but she was back on her feet instantly, spitting a small amount of blood, a maniacal grin stretching her face.
Stussy, however, was playing a different game. Thanks to Lakeman’s blessing of instant temporal regeneration, damage simply did not adhere to her.
–Crack.
Jabba struck her with a powerful kick, crushing several ribs. Stussy only laughed, the injured area immediately knitting itself back together, the skin smoothing out within milliseconds. She traded damage for position, allowing Jabba to waste energy on superficial wounds that vanished before his eyes.
"You’re strong, old man," Stussy purred, her voice carrying over the din. "But you are fighting a immortal."
Mirana, fueled by pure adrenaline and loyalty, drove in. Her strikes were faster, fueled by frustration and the desire to end the display quickly for her master.
She landed a devastating sequence of attacks: a gut punch, a knee to the solar plexus, and then a double-fisted hammer blow to Jabba’s collarbone.
The sound of bone cracking was sickeningly loud. Jabba stumbled, gasping for air, his form flickering.
"Give up, Jabba," Mirana commanded, circling him. "Your era is over."
Jabba refused to yield, launching a desperate, wild punch. Stussy darted under it, sinking a devastating uppercut into his chin. The sheer force lifted the massive man off his feet, shattering his jaw.
He landed hard, sprawling, his massive body barely moving.
The combined efforts of the women and the backup CP agents were relentless. Crocus, already weak, was subdued by Lily and Viola, their coordinated strikes ensuring painful, specific immobilization. His protests turned into pained groans.
The rest of the Roger Pirates were efficiently beaten down, limbs broken, willpower crushed. Within the space of two hours, the confrontation had become a massacre. Many lay broken, near death. Buggy was dead. Others were simply pulverized.
The area fell silent, heavy with the stench of copper and sweat.
Lakeman stood still, surveying the carnage. The CP agents moved to secure the beaten bodies, ensuring the area remained spotless and private.
He walked slowly toward the center of the road, where Rayleigh lay, immobilized and hyperventilating under the sheer weight of the Conqueror’s Haki.
Rayleigh’s eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted in a silent scream, having been forced to witness the brutal end of his comrades.
Lakeman stopped directly over the old man’s head.
He raised his foot, clad in a smooth, custom-made leather boot, and placed it down slowly, settling the weight of his entire body squarely on Rayleigh’s silvered temple.
Rayleigh groaned, the pressure intensifying, grinding his face against the hot asphalt.
Lakeman applied a slight twist of his boot heel, turning Rayleigh’s face upward, exposing it fully.
"Rayleigh, didn’t you want to see Shakky?" Lakeman mocked, his voice bored. "Look, that’s my slut."
Rayleigh forced his eyes open, tearing his gaze away from the mangled forms of his friends. He saw the figure emerging from the shadow of the villa.
Shakky approached, moving with a deliberate, slow sway, every step calibrated to be observed.
He saw the dress, the confident walk, the strong, familiar legs.
Then he saw her face.
The sight jolted him, a shock so profound it momentarily eclipsed the physical pain.
His eyes locked onto the thick, dried white coating that covered her cheeks, the residue caked in her hair and running down the side of her neck.
He strained against the invisible force, a guttural sound wrenching from his throat.
"You bastard!" Rayleigh’s voice was hoarse, ragged with despair. "What have you done to her?"
The remaining pirates who were still conscious—Jabba, weakly, and Crocus—turned their heads painfully, forcing their failing vision to witness the scene. Disbelief hardened their eyes.
The other girls stepped closer, forming a loose, judgmental semi-circle around the defeated man.
Mirana scoffed, crossing her arms, her chest heaving slightly from the fight.
"What has he done? He gave her salvation," Mirana stated, her tone dripping with contempt for the old man’s ignorance.
Stussy tilted her head, her smile wide and artificial.
"She chose him, old man. Who would want a decaying relic when she can serve a god?"
Robin chimed in, her voice chillingly clinical.
"We are all blessed, Rayleigh. You offered her nostalgia. Master offered her eternity."
Rayleigh ignored them, his gaze fixed solely on Shakky, who was now only steps away. He searched her eyes, desperate for a flicker of the independent, proud woman he remembered.
"Shakky! Tell them! Tell him he’s lying!" he pleaded, his voice cracking.
She stopped just short of Lakeman’s feet. Her eyes, dark and heavy, met Rayleigh’s gaze. Her lips curved into a slow, amused smirk.
Then, Shakky performed the final, damning act.
She extended her tongue, sweeping it across her own cheek, tasting the thick, dried residue. She drew it back into her mouth with a delicate, deliberate slurp.
A profound look of satisfaction, an expression of complete sensual bliss, washed over her features.
She whispered, loud enough for Rayleigh to hear, her voice a low, seductive rasp.
"Delicious."
Rayleigh’s world fractured.
The pain of the Haki pinning him, the loss of his crew, all paled before this single, degrading confirmation. The goddess he had admired, the woman of indomitable pride, had been reduced to savoring her enemy’s cum.
The other pirates, watching through their shattered, bloodied eyes, recoiled in visceral horror. This was not the Shakky they knew—the defiant former Empress, the woman who commanded respect from the Emperors. This was a tamed animal, proud of her humiliation.
Shakky took a final, graceful step, bringing her right foot up. She wore low, black heels, and she coated the tip of the shoe in a shimmering layer of Armament Haki.
She brought her heel down, hard, sharp, and focused, directly onto Rayleigh’s temple, right beside Lakeman’s boot. freeωebnovēl.c૦m
—-Thud.
"Aaahh"
Rayleigh screamed—a high, agonized sound of physical and emotional destruction. The force of the kick broke skin instantly, splitting his scalp. Blood welled and streamed down his ear and neck, mixing with the dust of the road.
"What are you lecherously looking at?" Shakky demanded, her voice hard, utterly devoid of recognition or mercy. "This is Master Lakeman’s property."
Rayleigh twisted, thrashing against the Haki, fueled by a final, desperate surge of pure hatred. Blood bubbled on his lips.
"Aaaahhh! I’m going to kill you! Kill you! Lake—"
Shakky delivered a second, far more precise kick.
This one landed squarely on his mouth.
Crack.---
The sound was sickening—a wet, crunching impact.
His teeth shattered inward, shards of enamel and bone slicing his tongue and gums. Blood erupted from his lips, bright and arterial, soaking the asphalt. He gagged, choking on the pulverized fragments and his own blood.
She turned away from his twitching, defeated body, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, fixing on Lakeman. She purred, the sound intimate and needy.
"Master, I am still hungry. This bastard didn’t let me finish my breakfast before."
Lakeman looked down at the trembling wreckage of Rayleigh, then at his devoted servant.
"Then eat now," Lakeman instructed, a cruel satisfaction tightening his jaw. "They are all solved. No one to disturb you now."
Shakky dropped immediately to her knees in the blood-soaked dirt. Her hands flew to Lakeman’s loose silk pants, pulling the material down with frantic speed.
His enormous, rigid cock sprang free, slapping against her cheek, coated in the fresh layer of saliva she had just deposited.
She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment, savoring the heat and the potent, musky scent of his dominance. She rubbed the rigid length against her face, pressing her ear to the shaft, a gesture of profound veneration.
Rayleigh, still conscious, his jaw broken and blood pouring from his lips, watched the scene unfolding inches from his face. His vision blurred, but he could not look away.
Shakky opened her mouth again, taking his cock in with greedy expertise.
She began to lick and suck with renewed fervor, her head bobbing rapidly. She was not just satisfying a craving; she was performing an act of public, devastating subjugation.
Slurp. Slurp.
She devoured his cock like a starved slut, her throat constantly challenged by the depth of his penetration. She gagged and swallowed, saliva dripping onto the asphalt, running down toward the pooling blood near Rayleigh’s face.
Rayleigh watched, immobilized, the tightness of her mouth around Lakeman’s cock a physical ache in his own soul.
The image of the woman he loved, the object of his long-held crush, serving his enemy with such visible, hungry devotion, shattered the last defenses of his heart. It was a million pieces of agony, each one sharper than a broken tooth.
The other girls began to cheer, encouraging Shakky’s performance.
"Swallow it all, Shakky!" Mirana shouted, clapping sharply.
"Show the old man how slutty you are!" Stussy yelled, a vicious smile lighting her face.
Shakky responded to the cheers, deepening her commitment, her throat convulsing slightly with the effort of taking his entire cock in.
Slurp. Slurp. Pah. Pah. Ughkk.
Nearly half an hour passed this way, Shakky’s warm, impossibly tight throat working the hard muscle of his shaft, the rhythmic action taking place directly over Rayleigh’s head.
He could hear the thick, wet sounds, the ragged breathing, the constant, demanding friction.
Lakeman felt the pressure building again, a familiar, irresistible force. He pulled her hair gently, a final cue. She leaned back, staring up at him with wide, anticipating eyes, allowing him to pull free just before the final climax.
He coated her mouth and chin again, depositing his thick, warm load in a gush.
Gulp. Gulp...
Shakky kept gulping, ensuring every drop was consumed, only a few thick strands of fluid leaking past her lips and sliding down the curve of her chin.
"Are you full now, slut?" Lakeman asked, his voice low, heavy with spent power.
She shook her head, shaking the dried and fresh layers of cum on her face. Her eyes were burning with lust.
"My pussy and asshole are still hungry for your cock, Master."
"That’s my bitch."
Lakeman praised and nodded, a look of profound satisfaction settling on his features.
He glanced at the ruined forms of the Roger Pirates lying nearby—Jabba, Crocus, and the others. They were breathing shallowly, clinging to life, but utterly defeated.
He raised his hand. The air around the defeated pirates began to shimmer, a sudden, unnatural distortion. The women watched with silent reverence.
"You all served your purpose," Lakeman stated, his voice ringing with absolute finality.
A sudden, intense vortex of energy erupted around Jabba, Crocus, and others.
They began to scream, their bodies liquefying, dissolving into a reddish-black mist. The blood, bone, and essence of the pirates were drawn inward, spiraling violently toward Lakeman, who absorbed the energy, the skill, the life force itself.
In moments, they were gone. Only Rayleigh remained, witnessing the ultimate erasure of his comrades, their life force stolen by the new god of the world.
"Aaahhhh"
Rayleigh, witnessing the horror and the theft of their very existence, roared again, a sound stripped of Haki, a pure expression of agony.
Lakeman ignored the sound.
He reached down and tore the elegant silk dress from Shakky’s body. The fabric ripped easily, revealing her skin marked by the continuous assault of the night—reddened welts, dark bruises, and the clean pink of her nipples, already hardening in anticipation. Her body was a roadmap of his ownership.
He positioned himself, lifting her hips slightly, aligning his throbbing cock with the slick, eager entrance to her cunt.
He drove in.
"Aaahh, master."
The penetration was a deep, guttural violation, met with an immediate, shuddering moan from Shakky. She clamped down instantly, her muscles tight and welcoming.
Lakeman began to pound her relentlessly, the impact of his pelvis against her wet flesh echoing sharply in the clearing.
Pah. Pah. Pah.
"Aahh master, harder."
The girls cheered louder, forming a tighter, more intimate circle around the spectacle.
Lakeman continued the punishing rhythm, driving into her wet pussy, focusing the full might of his power into the act.
Pah. Pah.
"Ooohh"
Shakky bucked and arched, screaming in pleasure, her hands gripping his thighs, pulling him deeper. The constant, rapid friction was a blur of motion, a testament to his inexhaustible stamina and her relentless desire.
Rayleigh watched, forced to observe every thrust, every muscle contraction, the sounds of her ecstatic surrender amplified by his proximity. He could feel the fine spray of their fluids on his shattered face.
Lakeman drove into her cunt until his vision swam with intensity, his entire being focused on the internal warmth and grip of her body.
"Aahh, take it all in, bitch!"
He felt the familiar, explosive build, and with a final, shattering series of thrusts, he deposited his cream deep inside her womb, flooding her with hot seed.
He pulled out slowly, his cock wet and dripping, and without a pause, he repositioned her. He parted her buttocks, revealing the tight, unyielding seal of her backdoor, already glistening with anticipation.
He aligned himself and drove into her asshole. The initial resistance was sharp, quickly overcome by the force of his penetration.
"Oooohh."
Shakky gasped, a choked, high sound. The anal tightness was exquisite, a different, more demanding sensation.
He began to impale her back hole, the depth and precision agonizingly slow, then accelerating into a focused, rhythmic assault.
Pah. Pah. Pah.
He enjoyed the profound tightness, the way her sphincter muscles fought and yielded, savoring the feeling of claiming her entirely.
"Aaahhh"
Pah. Pah.
"Aahh, master."
She began to moan loudly, her voice stripped of pretense, a sound of pure, subjugated ecstasy. freeweɓnøvel.com
Pah. pah.
—Smack.
The pounding continued for another half hour, a relentless demonstration of ownership and physical mastery, until he felt the final, ultimate surge of his power. He deposited the last of his load deep within her asshole, claiming both her main orifices completely.
"Uuummm"
Shakky collapsed, utterly spent, her face slick with her master’s seed, her body throbbing with satisfaction.
Lakeman stood over the conquest, looking down at his exhausted servant and the broken man forced to witness her devotion.
The tropical sun rose higher, casting long, triumphant shadows across the scene of total, irreversible humiliation.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
