Drifting Pleasure Island [One Piece] {Patreon Exlusive} - Nami (Patreon)

Drifting Pleasure Island [One Piece]

Chapter 1 - Nami

Note: Made some edits/name consistency

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Nami laughed, the sound cutting through the salty breeze as she clutched the wheel of the much larger boat, a smug grin plastered on her face. Her heart was still racing, not from any exertion, but from the sheer, unadulterated thrill of the con. She glanced back at the tiny speck that was her kayak, now occupied by two of Buggy's dim-witted goons who were undoubtedly still trying to figure out how she'd managed to switch boats with them while they were drooling over an empty treasure chest.

"Orange Town, here I come," she whispered to herself, her fingers tapping the simple compass in her pocket. "I'm taking his treasure, and then some."

She ran a hand through her vibrant orange hair, letting the sea breeze catch it. She was a navigator, a thief, and a woman who knew her way around a ship—and a sucker. But as the miles drifted by and the sea began to swell, the familiar waters of the East Blue started to feel... wrong. The air grew thick, heavy with a cloying humidity that clung to her skin like a second layer of clothing. Then, the fog rolled in.

It wasn't a gentle mist; it was a wall of white, swallowing the horizon in seconds. Nami frowned, squinting into the gloom. She checked her compass, but the needle spun wildly, refusing to settle. And then, she saw it.

Emerging from the gray nothingness was a silhouette. It was massive. Too massive. Nami gripped the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. She had mapped these waters a thousand times. She knew every rock, every shoal, every island in this quadrant. There was no island here. There was nothing but open ocean.

Curiosity, mixed with a navigator's instinct, overrode her caution. She turned the bow of the small boat into the fog, her engines humming softly as she cut through the thick, swirling vapor.

The sound hit her before she saw anything else.

It wasn't the crash of waves or the cry of seabirds. It was wet, rhythmic, and utterly carnal. Slap. Suck. Moan. Slap.

Nami’s face flushed a deep crimson. She pressed her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide behind her glasses. The fog began to thin, revealing a beach that defied logic. It was bathed in a golden, ethereal light that seemed to come from nowhere. And on the sand, people were everywhere.

They were nude, their bodies glistening with sweat and sea water, locked in a tangle of limbs and flesh. A man was buried between the thighs of a woman, his hips pistoning with a desperate, primal rhythm, his face buried in her groin. Nearby, a group of four was arranged in a circle, their hands and mouths exploring every inch of one another with an abandon that made Nami’s head spin.

"Oh my god..." she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. The realization hit her like a physical blow. This was it. The Drifting Pleasure Island. The folklore. The stories she’d heard sailors whisper about in bars—the ones the women hushed and blushed about, the ones the men bragged about as the best time of their lives.

Nami’s heart hammered against her ribs, not from fear, but from a sudden, overwhelming heat pooling in her lower stomach. She had to see more. She had to know.

A soft giggle cut through the haze of her thoughts. Nami looked up to see a woman standing on the sand a few yards away. She was dressed in a maid outfit that was barely holding together—frilly black lace, a short skirt that rode up her thighs, and a headband with cat ears that twitched playfully.

"Welcome, Cat Burglar," the woman purred, her voice smooth like honey. "I'm Baccarat. And you must be the guest of honor."

Nami blinked, her brain trying to process the woman's appearance. "Guest... of honor?" she stammered, her face burning hotter. "Who are you? And where am I?"

Baccarat stepped closer, her heels sinking slightly into the warm sand. "You're on the Drifting Pleasure Island. And I'm here to show you to the one who makes it all happen."

Nami opened her mouth to protest, to demand answers, but the sounds of the beach were too intoxicating. The slap of flesh against flesh, the wet squelch of arousal, the moans of ecstasy. It was a symphony of lust that she couldn't ignore. She nodded, her cheeks glowing.

"Okay," she breathed. "Lead the way."

Baccarat smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She turned and began walking up the beach, her hips swaying with a practiced rhythm. "Just follow the sounds, darling. They never lie."

Nami scrambled out of her boat and followed, her bare feet sinking into the warm sand. As they walked, the sounds grew louder, more intense. They passed a grove of palm trees where a couple was suspended from a branch by a rope, suspended in mid-air, fucking with a ferocity that made Nami gasp. They passed a small stream where a woman was bent over a rock, her cries of pleasure echoing through the trees.

Nami’s face was a mask of crimson. She couldn't look away. Every time she tried to focus on her feet, her eyes would drift back to the scene in front of her. Her chest heaved, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She felt like she was burning up, her skin tingling with a phantom touch.

"This place..." she murmured, her voice trembling. "It's incredible."

Baccarat laughed, a melodic sound. "Oh, it's much more than that. It's a sanctuary. A place where you can let go. Forget your worries, forget your pain. Just feel."

They reached a winding path that led up a small hill, away from the beach and towards a grand, white mansion that seemed to rise out of the jungle itself. The path was lined with flowers that glowed softly in the twilight, and the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and sex.

As they approached the mansion, Nami’s eyes widened. It was a masterpiece of architecture, a blend of European elegance and tropical wildness. But it was the sounds coming from within that stopped her in her tracks. She could hear the distinct, rhythmic sounds of heavy breathing, the slap of skin, the creak of a bedframe.

Baccarat stopped at the massive oak doors and turned to face her. "Here we are. The home of the man who rules this island."

Nami took a deep breath, her heart pounding against her ribs. She felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. She was here, in the heart of the legend, and she was about to meet the man who controlled it all.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Baccarat smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. "Enjoy yourself, Nami. You're going to need it."

With a final wink, Baccarat turned and walked away, disappearing into the foliage. Nami stood alone in front of the massive doors, her hand trembling as she reached out to push them open.

She pushed the door and stepped inside. The mansion was vast, filled with plush furniture and soft lighting. But her eyes were drawn to the center of the room, where a massive bed dominated the space. And on the bed, sitting up, was a man.

She estimated him to be at least six feet two inches, with a build that was both imposing and elegant. His skin was a rich, deep ebony, glowing in the soft light. He had a scar running down his left cheek, a reminder of past battles, but it only added to his rugged charm.

He was looking at her, his eyes piercing and intense. He wore a silk robe that hung loosely from his shoulders, revealing the definition of his chest and arms.

"Welcome to my home," he said, his voice deep and resonant, vibrating through the room. "I'm Richard Samuel. And I believe you've heard of me."

Nami stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. She was struck by his presence, the sheer power that radiated from him. He looked like a conqueror, a man who had taken everything he wanted.

"I... I'm Nami," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I think I have."

Richard stood up, his movements fluid and graceful. He walked towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped just a few feet away, the heat of his body radiating towards her.

"You've heard the stories," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "The ones about the Drifting Pleasure Island. The ones about the women who come here and leave... changed."

Nami nodded, her heart pounding against her ribs. She felt a sudden, overwhelming desire to be close to him. To be touched by him. To be filled by him.

"I have," she breathed, her voice trembling. "I... I wanted to see it for myself."

Richard reached out, his hand cupping her cheek. His touch was warm, rough, and electric. He ran his thumb over her lips, a gesture that sent shivers down her spine.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice low and husky. "And you're nervous. I can smell it. I can taste it."

Nami gasped, her eyes widening. "You... you can smell it?"

Richard laughed, a deep, resonant sound. "I can smell everything. My senses are heightened. I can feel the desire radiating off you like a beacon."

He stepped closer, his body pressing against hers. Nami felt his hard cock press against her stomach, a reminder of his size and power.

"You want this, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "You want to feel what this island has to offer."

Nami couldn't speak. She could only nod, her head swimming with desire.

Richard’s hand moved from her cheek to her neck, his fingers digging into her skin. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against hers.

"I'm going to make you forget everything," he growled. "I'm going to make you scream."

He pushed her back against the massive bed, his body covering hers. Nami gasped as she fell onto the soft sheets, her eyes fixed on his.

Richard stood over her, his hands on his hips. He looked down at her, a predatory grin on his face.

"You're a navigator, aren't you?" he asked, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You like to know where you're going. But tonight, you're going to let me lead the way."

He reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. Nami arched her back, her breasts spilling out, their pale pink nipples hard and erect.

Richard’s eyes locked onto her chest, his gaze hungry. He reached out and pinched one of her nipples, twisting it gently. Nami cried out, her back arching off the bed.

"Oh god..." she moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"That's it," Richard growled. "Give it to me."

He leaned down and took her other nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Nami gasped, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

Richard’s hand moved down to her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with bruising force. He hooked a calloused finger under the waistband of her panties and yanked them aside, not gently, but violently, exposing her swollen, dripping folds instantly. A strand of her arousal snapped between her skin and the fabric.

"Look at this mess," Richard sneered, leaning down to inhale her scent deeply. "You're soaking wet, aren't you? You're aching for it, aren't you, you greedy little thief?"

He didn't tease. He shoved two fingers inside her, curling them ruthlessly to hit that spot right away. Nami shrieked, her back bowing off the mattress, her nails raking down his chest like a cat in heat.

"Oh god! Yes! Right there! Don't stop!" she cried out, her hips bucking frantically against his hand, her pussy clamping down on his intrusion.

"That's it," Richard growled, pumping his fingers in and out of her sloppy hole with wet, obscene squelching noises. "Take it. Take my fingers like a good girl. You love being filled, don't you?"

Nami nodded frantically, her eyes wide with ecstasy, tears leaking from the corners. "Yes... yes... I love it! I'm your slut, Richard! Use me!"

Richard pulled his hand out, her juices glistening on his fingers as he licked them clean. He stood up, kicking his robe to the floor. His cock was monstrous, a thick slab of meat pulsing with blood, veins bulging along the shaft. It looked like it could destroy her.

"Open wide," Richard commanded, grabbing her hips and hauling her closer until she was gasping for breath. "You're gonna take every inch of this cock."

He slammed into her. Nami screamed, her eyes rolling back as her pussy was stretched wide, her walls spasming around the intrusion, feeling like she was being torn apart.

SLAP.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh was loud and wet. He began to pound her, his hips a blur, the friction making her entire body shake. Slap. Slap. Slap.

"Fuck! You're so tight!" Richard grunted, sweat dripping from his brow. "I can feel your insides gripping me. You love this, don't you? You love being used?"

He reached up, grabbing her breasts. They bounced violently with every thrust, their pale pink nipples hard and sensitive. He pinched them hard, twisting them between his thumb and forefinger, twisting them until Nami cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Squeeze them," Richard ordered, watching her tits jiggle lewdly. "Make them bounce for me. Show me how much you like being fucked like a common whore."

Nami moaned, a lewd, broken sound, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Yes! Yes! Use me! I'm just a your personal plaything for you!"

He fucked her harder, faster, the bed frame banging against the wall in time with their rhythm. He was claiming her, marking her, turning her into a puddle of lust.

"You're gonna cum for me, Nami!" he roared, his face contorted with exertion. "Cum on this cock! Show me how much you love being filled!"

Nami arched her back, her body locking up as the orgasm crashed over her, ripping through her like lightning. She screamed, her pussy milking his cock desperately, squeezing and fluttering around him, trying to drain him dry.

"I'm cumming— Fill me." she shrieked, her toes curling.

Richard grunted, his face contorted with pleasure. He thrust one last time, burying himself deep inside her, and released a massive load of hot, thick cum, pumping it into her womb until she felt bloated and full.

Nami collapsed back onto the bed, her body trembling, completely drained. Richard pulled out slowly, his cock glistening with their combined fluids. He looked down at her, a satisfied, predatory smile on his face.

"You did good, Nami," he said, his voice low and husky. "But we're just getting started."

Nami lay there, a ruined mess of sweat and semen, her chest heaving like a broken bellows as she struggled to draw air into her lungs. Her body was slick with a mixture of her own juices and his release, a testament to the brutal fucking she’d just endured. She felt a strange, hollow sense of peace wash over her, a complete submission to the overwhelming pleasure that had numbed her mind.

Richard didn't let her wallow in the afterglow. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and yanked her backward until her ass was hovering right at the edge of the mattress. The sudden movement made her gasp, her body instinctively trying to recoil, but he held her fast.

"Still breathing? Barely," Richard sneered, leaning down to nip at her earlobe. "I was afraid the air up here was too thin for a brain as small as yours."

Nami blinked, her eyes glazed and unfocused, trying to clear the fog from her brain. "Richard..." she breathed, her voice husky and trembling, barely a whisper. "That was... that was incredible."

"Is that all you have to say?" Richard smirked, his grip tightening on her hips. "You navigators are always looking for the next destination, aren't you? Always plotting the course, calculating the risks. But sometimes, you just have to let go. And right now, you're rocked by my cock."

With a sudden, fluid motion, he flipped her over onto her stomach. Nami yelped, her hands scrambling for purchase on the sheets as she found herself on her hands and knees, her body presented to him like a piece of meat.

"Up on your knees," he commanded, his voice low and commanding, vibrating through her spine.

Nami obeyed, trembling slightly as she shifted her weight onto her knees and hands. The position exposed her completely, her back arching in a perfect curve as she pressed her chest against the mattress, her breasts spilling out to the sides, heavy and soft, their pale pink nipples brushing against the coarse fabric.

Richard moved behind her, his presence looming over her like a dark cloud. She could hear the rustle of fabric as he adjusted his position, the sound of his belt buckle clinking, and then, she felt the tip of his cock press against her slick, swollen folds.

"You're so tight," Richard groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Even after I filled you up, you're still tight as a vice. It's like you're trying to choke my dick."

He grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, bruising her slightly as he spread her wide. "You're going to take this from behind now, Nami. You're going to take it like the wicked girl you are. Stay open for me."

With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her to the hilt.

SLAP.

The sound was deafening, wet and meaty, echoing through the room. The impact of his hips against her ass sent a jolt of pain and pleasure through her entire body, making her scream. She felt like she was being split in two, his cock stretching her walls to their absolute limit, filling her in a way she had never experienced before.

"Ah! Richard!" she screamed, her head snapping back, her neck arching beautifully. "You're so big! It's... it's too much!"

Richard didn't let her adjust. He began to pound into her, his hips moving with a relentless, driving rhythm, battering her pussy into submission. Slap. Slap. Slap.

The sound of their bodies mating echoed through the mansion, a symphony of wet flesh meeting wet flesh. Nami’s body bounced with each thrust, her breasts swaying wildly from side to side, their pale pink nipples hard and erect, slapping against the sheets with every motion.

"Oh god... oh god..." she moaned, her fingers gripping the sheets so hard her knuckles turned white. "Yes! Like that! Fuck me! Break me!"

Richard reached around, his hand snaking between her legs to find her swollen clit. He rubbed it roughly, circling it with his thumb, adding to the overwhelming sensation.

"You like that?" he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "You like me fucking you from behind? You like being filled up like a little plaything? You love giving yourself over like this, don't you?"

Nami cried out, her body arching even further, her back bowing like a bowstring under the strain. "Yes—I love it. Fill me up! Fill me up again! I'm yours! Use me!"

He leaned forward, his chest pressing against her back, his arms wrapping around her waist to hold her in place. He grabbed her hair, yanking her head back, and pinched her nipples, hard, twisting them between his fingers.

"Such beautiful tits," he whispered, his voice dripping with admiration. "Look at them bounce. I'm going to leave my mark on you."

He pulled back slightly, then thrust forward with even more force, his pelvis slamming against her ass. SLAP.

Nami’s eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream. She felt like she was floating in a sea of pleasure, a wave of ecstasy crashing over her again and again. The sensation was overwhelming, a constant barrage of pleasure that threatened to shatter her mind.

"You're going to cum for me," Richard said, his voice low and menacing. "I can feel it. You're about to explode. Cum for me, Nami. Cum on this dick."

He rubbed her clit faster, harder, his fingers moving in a blur, matching the rhythm of his hips. "Cum, you greedy little whore. Cum for me."

Nami screamed, her body convulsing as an intense orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy clenched around his cock, milking him for every drop of cum he had, her walls fluttering and spasming uncontrollably.

Richard grunted, his face contorted with pleasure. He thrust one last time, burying himself deep inside her, and released another massive load of hot, thick cum, pumping it into her womb until she felt bloated and full.

Nami collapsed onto the bed, her body shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She felt completely drained, her body covered in sweat and cum, her mind a blank slate of pure pleasure.

Richard pulled out, his cock glistening with their combined fluids, a thick, white mess coating his shaft and her trembling thighs. He looked down at her, a satisfied, predatory smirk playing on his lips as he watched her chest heave, trying to fill her lungs with air that seemed to have been stolen by his dick.

Richard didn't let the silence settle between them. He grabbed her waist, his grip like iron, and flipped her onto her back once more, the mattress groaning under the sudden shift in weight. He didn't give her a moment to recover, to catch her breath, to think about anything other than him.

Nami blinked up at him, her eyes glazed and heavy, her body a map of flushed skin and trembling muscles. "Richard... I can't..." she whined, a pathetic, broken sound that made him smirk.

"You can," he countered, his hand sliding up her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, leaving bruises. "Or I can steer for you. And I think I'll take the wheel for a bit. I'm going to make you feel me everywhere."

He reached down and guided his cock, slick with their combined fluids, back to her opening. He didn't ease it in; he thrust forward with brutal force, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, powerful motion.

Nami cried out, her back arching off the mattress, her hands flying up to grip his shoulders as if to anchor herself. "Ah! God! You're... you're everywhere! It's so deep!"

"Good," Richard said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He leaned forward, his hands settling on her hips, his thumbs pressing into the curve of her waist, spreading her wide. "Now, I want you to show me what this body can do. I want to see you work for it."

He pulled back until just the tip remained inside her, teasing her, before slamming forward again. Thrust.

Nami gasped, her head falling back against the pillows, her mouth open in a silent O. "Yes! Just like that! Fuck me!"

Richard began to set a rhythm, a slow, deliberate grinding that was maddeningly pleasurable. He wasn't pounding her anymore; he was owning her, claiming every inch of her with slow, deep strokes that seemed to go on forever, the friction sending sparks of electricity shooting through her entire body.

"Look at you," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Look at how your body takes me. You're made for this, Nami. You love being taken like this."

He reached around her, his fingers seeking out her breasts. He cupped them both in his large hands, squeezing them together, his thumbs rubbing roughly over her sensitive nipples. He pinched one hard, twisting it between his fingers until she cried out.

Nami cried out, her hips bucking against him, her body writhing in ecstasy. "Oh! Yes! Pinch them! God, Richard! Harder!"

He let go of her nipples, his hands sliding down to her waist, his grip tightening. He began to pull her back against him as he thrust forward, creating a friction that was blindingly intense, the sound of their bodies mating filling the room.

"You're so wet," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "I can feel your juices dripping down my cock. You're a dripping mess, Nami. You're a slut for this dick."

Nami couldn't form words. She could only moan, her head tossing from side to side, her orange hair spreading out like a halo on the white sheets. The sensation was overwhelming, a constant, building pressure that threatened to shatter her mind.

"Ride me," Richard commanded, his voice low and commanding. "Ride my cock. Show me how much you love it."

He grabbed her hips, his fingers bruising her skin, and pulled her up, lifting her off the bed with surprising strength. He maneuvered her until she was straddling him, facing away from him. Reverse cowgirl.

Nami gasped as she felt him slide back into her, filling her from behind. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of herself, but Richard's hands were on her hips, guiding her, forcing her to move.

"Move," he growled, his voice vibrating through her spine. "Show me what you've got. Bounce on it."

Nami took a deep breath and began to move. She raised her hips and lowered herself, taking him in deeper with every motion. Her body bounced slightly, her breasts swaying heavily from side to side, their pale pink nipples hard and erect, catching the light.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of her ass hitting his hips echoed through the room, a rhythmic beat that matched the pounding of her heart. The friction was incredible, the sensation of being filled from behind sending shockwaves of pleasure through her entire body.

Richard reached around and grabbed her breasts again, squeezing them, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, biting it gently.

Nami cried out, her body arching, her head falling back. "Oh god! Richard! Yes!"

He released her nipple, his mouth moving to her ear. "You like that? You like me playing with your tits while I fuck you? You love being used like this?"

"Yes—I love it." Nami screamed, her hips moving faster, her body a blur of motion.

Richard’s grip tightened on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. He began to thrust upward, matching her rhythm, his cock slamming into her over and over again.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

The sound was deafening. The impact of their bodies was hard and fast, a symphony of lust and desire that filled the room. Nami’s body bounced with each thrust, her ass shaking, her breasts swaying wildly, the flesh rippling and jiggling with every impact.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You're squeezing me so hard. You're gonna make me cum. You're gonna milk me dry."

Nami could feel her orgasm building, a wave of ecstasy that was about to crash over her. She couldn't hold back anymore. She screamed, her body convulsing as an intense orgasm ripped through her.

"I'm cumming— Oh god! I'm cumming!"

She collapsed forward, her face buried in the pillows, her body shaking with the aftershocks of her climax. Her pussy clenched around his cock, milking him for every drop of cum he had.

Richard grunted, his face contorted with pleasure. He thrust one last time, burying himself deep inside her, and released a massive load of hot, thick cum. He filled her completely, her stomach bulging slightly as he poured himself into her, marking her as his forever.

He pulled out slowly, his cock glistening with their combined fluids. He looked down at her, a satisfied smile on his face. "That's it," he said, his voice low and husky. "That's what I'm talking about. You're a good little mess of pleasure."

Nami lay there, her body completely drained, her mind a blank slate of pure pleasure. She was on the Drifting Pleasure Island, and she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Nami stirred.

Not with a gasp, not with a cry — but with a slow, dazed inhale, her lungs dragging in the salt-laced air like a drowning woman finally breaking the surface. Her eyelids fluttered open, heavy as lead, the world swimming into focus — the wooden planks of her boat’s deck, the gentle rocking of the sea, the distant cry of gulls.

She was back.

Not on the white sheets. Not under Richard’s brutal, possessive weight. Not gasping beneath his fingers, his cock, his voice growling filth into her ear.

She was alone.

Her body… oh god, her body.

Every inch of her was alive with sensation — a deep, throbbing ache between her legs, a tender, swollen fullness that pulsed with every heartbeat. Her thighs trembled as she tried to shift, her pussy still slick with his cum, her inner walls twitching as if still trying to hold onto the ghost of him.

Her tits felt heavy, tender, the nipples raw and hypersensitive from his pinching, his biting, his rough handling. She reached up, fingertips brushing the skin — a sharp, electric jolt shot through her, making her gasp and arch off the deck.

“You’re a good little cum bucket.”

His voice echoed in her skull, not a memory — a brand.

She sat up slowly, wincing, her muscles protesting, her ass still burning from the relentless slap of his hips. She looked down at herself — her clothes were still on, but rumpled, damp, her panties shoved to the side, her thighs sticky with the evidence of what he’d done to her.

A slow, wicked smile curled on her lips, despite the ache. She ran a hand down her stomach, tracing the curve of her hips, the swell of her belly — still slightly distended from his last, brutal load. She could still feel him inside her. Not just physically — mentally. He’d carved himself into her, left his mark deeper than any scar.

She licked her lips, tasting salt — and something else. Something his.

“Richard Samuel…” she whispered, the name rolling off her tongue like a curse and a prayer.

She stood, unsteady on her feet, her legs trembling like a newborn fawn’s. She gripped the railing, steadying herself, her gaze fixed on the horizon — Orange Town, just a smudge in the distance.

Buggy’s treasure map.

She’d come here for gold. For freedom.

Now?

Now she was sailing with a new purpose.

She’d take Buggy’s map. She’d steal his treasure. She’d laugh in his face.

And then?

She’d find her way back to the fog.

She’d find Richard.

She’d beg him to do it again.

She’d beg him to break her again.

She’d beg him to fill her again.

She adjusted her top, her fingers brushing over her swollen nipples, sending another shiver down her spine. She grinned, a feral, dangerous thing.

“Let’s see how much treasure Buggy’s got,” she murmured, her voice rough, husky, still thick with the echo of his commands.

She turned the wheel, the boat cutting through the waves, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, her mind already drifting back to the island, to the man who’d turned her into his plaything.

And she couldn’t wait to go back.