The silence above Grove 0 was unnatural.
Not the peaceful kind—but a silence heavy with change, like the final breath before a storm.
From the top of the reconstructed auction house, the sea winds curled and coiled, caressing the edges of a rooftop where two women stood—watching the sleeping Sabaody Archipelago below.
Their eyes held no warmth.
Only purpose.
Stussy, clad in a sleek black coat that hugged her hourglass figure, stood with poise.
Her silver hair fluttered behind her like silk ribbons in the wind.
Beneath her gloves, her fingers tingled with power that no human woman should wield. Her lips, painted the color of crushed rubies, curled ever so slightly.
Beside her was Shakky—younger now than she had been in a lifetime.
Her tight red jacket pressed against the swells of her rejuvenated form, her long legs held firm in thigh-high leather boots.
She exhaled softly, letting smoke curl from between her lips before flicking the cigarette into the wind.
"Funny," Shakky said, her voice smooth as old wine. "A year ago, this place sold women like livestock."
Stussy smirked, adjusting her high collar. "Now we own the auction block. And we're selling empires."
Between them passed a glance.
Silent.
But deep.
Because they had become more than women.
They were immortal, now blessed with the laws of life, death, and time—poured into them like sacred ink by the boy who had tamed their minds, bodies, and souls.
Saint Lakeman.
Their Master.
Their god.
Their everything.
"Let's get started," Stussy said.
And without another word, the two of them rose into the air—graceful and soundless, no wings, no propulsion.
Just bodies that no longer obeyed gravity, as though even nature bent in service to the boy they worshipped.
Twelve Hours Later — West Blue
The port city of Corthell bustled with noise and corruption.
Its skyline was a jagged mess of glass spires, ships that never slept, and whispers that crossed continents.
It was the beating heart of the black market in West Blue. Spy networks, assassins, and information brokers moved in the shadows like vipers.
And by dawn, every one of them would belong to Lakeman.
Shakky descended without warning, landing atop the stone tiles of the Guild of Silent Eyes.
The grandmaster of the guild, Gren Rorves, stood inside his inner sanctum reviewing captured cipher intercepts.
He didn't hear her enter.
But when he turned, she was there—arms crossed, one heel pressed against the wall, lips curled in amusement.
"You're about to change your purpose," she said.
He scoffed. "Who the hell are you—"
She stepped forward.
Her gloved hand touched his temple.
Tchk.
He stiffened. His eyes went wide. His knees hit the floor a second later.
"Saint… Lakeman…Owner"
"Good dog," Shakky whispered.
The guild mistress rushed in—blade in hand.
But Shakky didn't even flinch. She stepped forward and brushed her thumb across the woman's forehead. A brief pulse of energy surged.
The mistress gasped, stumbled, and fell to her knees, her pupils shrinking into reverent focus.
"I serve only Lakeman…"
And so it began.
Shakky walked out of the guild with a new ring of informants, ready to supply secrets, daughters, and forged loyalties.
Her body had never been touched. No man dared. Her pleasure and submission belonged to one man only.
Three Days Later — East Blue
Marine Base Alpha-9 stood like a wall between criminal chaos and so-called "justice."
But inside its command room, Stussy lounged across the Vice Admiral's leather chair.
She hadn't removed her coat. She didn't need to. Her presence alone made the temperature rise.
Rear Admiral Joneth Durn was on his knees—his uniform undone, sweat dripping down his temples, his voice empty of pride.
"You will issue new loyalty drills to your men," Stussy ordered. "Cipher Pol will oversee your deployments. And all encoded reports will bypass Navy HQ and be rerouted directly to Grove 0."
"Yes… Mistress…" he groaned, staring at the floor.
She leaned in.
Not closer to kiss or mount.
Just close enough to make him feel it—the untouchable elegance of a woman who could ruin his soul without ever letting him touch her skin.
"You may live. But your daughter and wife... they'll serve master better."
She left the room without a backward glance.
Her fingers, lips, thighs—all untouched by any other man but Lakeman.
As they were always meant to be.
Ten Days Later — Cipher Pol Base.
The Grove 0 base in the Sabaody Archipelago had transformed.
Underneath the base, black marble vaults expanded with stolen data:
Royal military movements.
Warship designs.
Genealogy charts.
Psychological profiles of princesses and queens.
And with each file, the stage was set.
For collapse.
For control.
For conquest.
Two Weeks Later — A Royal Tribute Delivered
Queen Leveia of Caelistra—once hailed as the Silver Flame of the Mountain Kingdom—now knelt in silk, veiled in translucent blue.
Her wrists were bound in golden cuffs.
Her collar, freshly engraved, shimmered with Lakeman's crest. Her body was untouched by any man.
Except the one she now lived to serve.
Shakky stood before her, watching her drip.
Drip… drip…
Clear arousal slid down the Queen's trembling thighs.
She was gagged, but her eyes begged.
Shakky leaned in and whispered, "Only he will touch you."
And with that, Leveia was placed aboard the warship bound for Mariejois.
She trembled in anticipation.
Back in Mariejois — Lakeman's Villa
The bedroom pulsed with heat.
The sound of wet slaps echoed against the marble floor.
Pah!
Pah!
Pah!
"Ahhh! Master—more—please!"
Scarlet was bent over the edge of the velvet couch, her full ass jiggling with every thrust as Lakeman pounded her from behind.
Her pussy was soaked, her voice hoarse with lust.
Behind him knelt Mirana Figarland.
Collared.
Naked.
Her hands tied behind her back in soft, golden restraints.
Lakeman's cock, slick with Scarlet's cum, was shoved into Mirana's mouth.
Schlup!
Glrk!
Slrp!
She moaned around it, cheeks bulging, tears slipping down her flushed face.
Her eyes shimmered with shame.
And joy.
He gripped her hair tighter, fucking her mouth between strokes.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
Scarlet's body trembled as she came, crying out as her juices sprayed.
Mirana swallowed what was fed to her—obediently.
Lakeman pulled out and wiped his cock across her face.
She moaned.
"Mmmhh…"
That night, five royal advisors had their loyalty converted.
One war strategy plan had been rerouted to a rival kingdom, now teetering on the edge of civil collapse.
And two more princesses were scheduled for "transfer."
Lakeman sat on his bed, robe open, cock resting heavy against his thigh as Robin gently licked at the head and Lily massaged his feet.
Mirana sat beside them, collared, her lips parted and awaiting another taste.
In Grove 0, Stussy closed her latest report and whispered, "We are his wings."
And Shakky, flying above a stormy sea, smiled in the dark.
"Soon… the world will have no memory of anything but his will."
...…
The lift from the Mariejois air harbor rose smoothly—silent except for the faint hum of compressed air.
Inside the velvet-lined carriage knelt a woman who had once ruled from a silver throne, surrounded by banners and subjects who chanted her name.
Now, she was bound.
Queen Leveia of Caelistra knelt in silence, her wrists and ankles bound in soft black cuffs.
A sheer silk veil lay across her full breasts, barely concealing her erect nipples beneath the cool air.
Her long legs folded under her as the leash fastened to her collar tugged softly each time the lift moved.
The woman beside her held the leash with casual grace.
Stussy sat with her legs crossed, one arm resting lazily on the armrest. Her gloves were pristine, her silver hair flawless, her heels polished.
She had not touched Leveia's body in any way.
She didn't need to.
All of Queen Leveia's resistance had been broken with whispers, law, and mindcraft.
Now, the queen's pussy dripped onto the carpet.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"Mmmnnh…" Leveia moaned softly through the enchanted silence gag that kept her from speaking unless permitted.
"You'll be good," Stussy said, brushing a finger down the woman's cheek. "You'll kneel. You'll beg. You'll scream. And when he cums inside you—your bloodline ends, and your purpose begins."
Leveia shivered in bliss.
And so began her final ascent—up into the divine palace of the only man she now existed to serve.
Arrival at Lakeman's Villa.
The doors opened without fanfare.
No ceremony. No announcement.
Only Robin and Lily stood at the threshold to receive the new gift.
Lakeman didn't need to see her arrive.
He felt her.
He was in his throne room, lounging with his robe open, his muscular chest bare, cock slowly stroked by Mirana's trembling fingers.
Her tongue traced his inner thigh, body swaying from side to side like a worshiper before a god.
"Another queen," Lakeman said lazily. "Bring her to me."
Lily returned moments later, guiding the freshly trembling Leveia by her leash.
Her veil was gone.
Her nipples were hard.
Her thighs slick.
She dropped to her knees without command the moment she entered.
"Good girl," Lakeman murmured.
He leaned forward, placing a hand under her chin and lifting her gaze.
Leveia's eyes were glassy, lost, filled with awe.
"You remember your name?"
"I… am Leveia…" she whispered, "but I no longer deserve it…"
Lakeman chuckled softly.
"I'll rename you after your womb is filled."
He looked down at Mirana, who was already opening her mouth obediently.
Slrp… glck… schlk…
Lakeman fed his cock into her mouth slowly, letting her tongue swirl lovingly.
Leveia whimpered.
Mirana moaned louder.
He slapped her cheek softly and then turned to the queen.
"Come."
....
He didn't undress her.
He tore the silk with one hand—slow, precise, the sound of fabric splitting beneath his grip echoing like judgment.
Shrrrkk…
He pulled her down onto the carpet and pushed her onto her back.
Mirana crawled to the side, still licking her lips as she watched the new woman be taken.
Leveia didn't protest.
She arched her back.
Offered her soaked pussy to him like a whore.
Lakeman entered her slowly—no rush.
Her moans rose instantly.
"Aahhh… ahhhnn… M-Master—"
Slap.
Slap.
Squish.
Squish.
He began to fuck her deeply, hips rolling with perfect rhythm, his cock filling her inch by inch. Her tight pussy clung to him like it had waited a lifetime.
He leaned forward and bit her neck, causing her to shriek in pleasure.
"Hyaaahh…!"
Her legs wrapped around his waist.
Her collar jingled faintly.
He pounded her harder.
Pah!
Pah!
Pah!
Each thrust made her scream louder.
"Y-your slave! I'm your slave!"
Lakeman pulled out mid-thrust, letting her juices drip freely down her thighs.
He turned her over—slid into her ass without pause.
"Ahhh! M-Masterrrr!"
Schlp!
Slrp!
Slap!
He took her tight back hole like it was his throne—grinding deep until she gushed again, trembling and broken beneath him.
Mirana lay beside them now, licking the leaking juices from Leveia's thighs, drinking her rival's submission with wet slurps.
Slrrp… slrrrp…
Gulp…
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