Koala, with her short, sandy hair and playful eyes, wore a revealing maid uniform as she skipped toward him with a flushed grin.
Stella, with her dancer's body, spun gracefully into the room, her hips already swaying in time with the rhythm of pleasure she was ready to offer.
Irene, regal and cold once, now stepped in with lowered eyes and heated cheeks, her queenly presence surrendered fully to her role as Lakeman's loyal plaything.
Then came the others—valiant princesses, humbled queens, foreign dignitaries, slaves, spies, and noblewomen from every corner of the world—all now his.
Clothes were discarded. Bodies pressed close. Mouths met his skin.
A symphony of lust began.
Pah! Squish! Squelch!
" Ahhnn! Nghhh! "
"Yes! Master! More!"
Moans layered over moans, gasps over gasps. The sounds of flesh against flesh, of dripping nectar and desperate cries of release, filled every corridor of the grand villa.
Lakeman moved among them like a god—endlessly hard, endlessly dominant, endlessly worshipped.
One girl rode his face as another took his cock. Others kissed and fondled each other while watching. Queens served as footstools. Maids begged for their turn. Princesses competed to be the next to ride him.
Hour by hour, night deepened.
And still, the rhythm continued.
Robin collapsed, twitching. Koala wept with joy. Otohime passed out again, her cunt flooded. Lily held his cock to her cheek like a treasured gem, moaning softly.
Lakeman didn't stop.
The sun eventually rose again—its golden light spilling into a room where bodies lay sprawled across furniture, floors, and one another.
Dozens of women, bare and marked with love, slept in pure satisfaction, their expressions peaceful and broken only by faint murmurs:
"Master…"
"More…"
"Please… again…"
The morning sun crept higher, its soft golden rays spilling into the grand chamber through sheer curtains. The room reeked of indulgence and devotion—its air thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and surrender.
Dozens of bodies lay sprawled across the polished floors, low couches, and silken bedding. Queens and princesses, noblewomen and maids—all nude, their skin glistening, marked by love bites and his seed.
Some moaned in their sleep, others clung to his limbs with content sighs, their minds lost in dreams of submission.
And at the heart of it all sat Saint Lakeman.
His powerful frame lounged across a plush on the bed, legs spread, his cock still buried inside the limp body of a noble princess who had fainted hours ago.
His red eyes half-lidded, breath calm, his mind drifting in perfect rhythm with the symphony of flesh still playing out around him.
Then, the chamber doors parted.
Click.
In stepped two elegant figures—Stussy and Shakky.
Though their strides were graceful, their bodies bore signs of haste. Their hair was pinned neatly, their revealing dresses freshly changed, but traces of moisture clung to their inner thighs.
Even after a night of high-level espionage and manipulation, they returned flushed, aroused, and eager.
They bowed as one, their voices warm and reverent.
"Good morning, Master Lakeman," Stussy murmured, her blue eyes glowing as she stepped through the soft haze of incense and sex.
"Forgive our lateness. We've returned after ensuring everything proceeded as planned," added Shakky, her tone smooth as velvet.
Lakeman didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Stussy and Shakky moved closer, stepping over entangled limbs and moaning bodies, until they knelt at either side of him.
"We've confirmed it, Master," Stussy whispered, her breath brushing his thigh as she leaned in, "All fifty permanent member nations of the World Government—the only ones permitted to attend the Reverie—have now fallen."
Shakky smiled softly. "Their kings, queens, princes, princesses, even their personal servants and guards—all who came with them—are fully under your control."
Stussy continued, pride laced through her words. "That means, at this moment, every single voice with political power at the Reverie belongs to you."
She kissed his knuckles reverently. "You now command the summit itself, Master."
Shakky leaned in closer, lips grazing his neck. "And beyond that… we've made even more progress."
She spoke with quiet satisfaction, "Of the more than two hundred other member countries of the World Government—those who are not permitted to attend the Reverie—we have already secured many through our extended operations. Thanks to CP0, Cipher Pol, and your loyal agents, more fall under your banner each passing day."
Stussy nodded. "But not all have fallen… not yet. There are still many kingdoms outside Reverie's halls who remain untouched—for now."
Then, her voice softened as she offered, "The Reverie will end in another day. Do you have any instructions for us before it does?"
Lakeman did not reply.
His gaze remained unfocused—drifting not in ignorance but in supreme indulgence.
Below, one of the maids had woken up and begun sucking gently on his shaft again, purring softly.
Slrp… slrp… mmmnn…
Another milf queen kissed and licked at his chest. Someone else was riding his foot, her juices pooling on the carpet.
His empire was not complete.
But his dominion was already unmatched.
The summit bent to him.
And still, he hadn't had enough.
Stussy and Shakky shared a knowing look.
Without needing to hear a command, they moved with purpose.
Shakky pulled aside her dress and climbed into his lap, gasping softly as his cock filled her once more, her soaked slit eagerly welcoming its familiar shape.
Schlk… schlk… schlk…
"Ahhh… I missed this… Master…"
Stussy knelt between his legs, tongue trailing across his thighs before she joined the maid in worshiping him—licking, kissing, praising with every stroke of her lips.
"Mmmhh… Let us serve you… master…"
And so, the rhythm resumed.
From morning until midday, Saint Lakeman remained at the center of a palace of moaning flesh. His most trusted spies became part of the orgy, their tongues and hips moving in perfect devotion.
Around them, queens stirred, princesses awoke, noble beauties begged for attention—and Lakeman, silent as ever, ruled them all without a word.
He didn't need orders. He didn't need speeches.
His rule was law. His body was gospel.
And the world… was nearly his.
The sun rose slowly over Mariejois, its light cascading across the towering walls of the Holy Land. Today marked the final day of the Reverie—a political summit of global consequence.
Inside the summit hall, fifty kings and queens of the permanent member nations of the World Government gathered to finalize discussions. Their voices echoed with calm assurance.
Each ruler offered insights, debated matters of governance, and raised concerns about international stability—just as they always had.
The Five Elders sat behind veils of observation, watching closely for signs of discord, rebellion, or betrayal.
But they saw none.
The kings and queens behaved flawlessly. Their tone, poise, and rhetoric were immaculate.
There was no deviation from protocol. No cracks in the facade. The Five Elders could not sense that each and every monarch had long since been bound by a hidden hand—by Saint Lakeman
.
There were no oddities.
No suspicion.
Only unwavering loyalty concealed beneath perfectly measured words.
The Elders remained at ease.
But elsewhere… a different kind of summit was underway.
In the heart of Mariejois, behind the sealed doors of Lakeman's personal palace, the true rulers of the world—its queens and princesses—lay bare before their god.
Saint Lakeman sat at the center of a grand chamber drenched in perfume and sunlight, draped in sheets soaked with sweat and lust.
His naked body reclined across a mountain of silk cushions, his powerful form surrounded by royalty stripped of pride.
While King Cobra of Alabasta debated trade and security in the Reverie hall…
His wife, Queen Titi, moaned on her knees.
Her warm, motherly body—mature and soft in all the right places—was pressed firmly against Lakeman's groin, her mouth sealing tightly around the base of his shaft as she worked her tongue with reverence.
Slrp… slrp… glrk…
"mmmn…"
Her throat bulged with effort as she swallowed inch after inch of his cock, eyes closed in submission, soft gagging sounds escaping as she forced him deeper.
"Ahhh… mmmhh—Master…" she gasped, pulling back with a wet pop as saliva clung to her lips. "So thick… so full…"
Lakeman didn't respond.
His fingers slid lazily through her blue hair, gripping her scalp as he guided her back down.
Titi whimpered in delight and resumed eagerly, her lips forming a tight seal around him once more.
Across the room, other queens and princesses rotated in quiet shifts, slipping in through private passages, exchanging glances with one another, silently understanding their place.
A beautiful queen from the North Blue disrobed beside the bed, letting her velvet gown fall to the floor as she straddled Lakeman's thigh, grinding her soaked slit against him.
Schlk… schlk… mmmhh…
"Ahhh… I can't wait any longer, Master… Please use me…"
Meanwhile, a tanned desert princess from a kingdom near Sandy Island knelt behind Titi, kissing her shoulders softly and fondling her breasts as the older woman bobbed her head.
"Let me warm your cock next, Master," the girl whispered, licking her lips.
Titi finally pulled off his cock again, panting. Her face flushed, she crawled into Lakeman's lap and mounted him.
His cock sank into her with ease—her mature pussy swallowing him inch by inch.
Schlrk… schlk…
Pah!
Pah!
"Aahhh! Yesss—Master!" she cried out, hips moving on instinct.
She bounced slowly, moaning with every downward motion, her thick ass slapping softly against his thighs.
Plap… plap… squelch… slrp…
Juices leaked from her, running down his cock and pooling onto the silken sheets. Her breasts jiggled wildly with each thrust as she gripped his shoulders tightly.
"Deeper… haaahh… yesss… you fill me… Son-in-law…"
Lakeman grunted softly as he drove up into her, forcing her higher pitch moans to echo around the room.
Nearby, the waiting princess eagerly licked Titi's bouncing ass, trailing her tongue up her spine as she whispered, "Let me taste you both…"
The queen gasped. "Aahhhn! She's licking… while I ride you… ahh—Master…!"
Another princess, this one blonde with pale skin and trembling lips, sucked on Lakeman's fingers as she rubbed her drenched pussy between her thighs, moaning softly:
"Mmmnn… Master… please… fill me next… I want to ride you until I break…"
Pah… squelch… ahhn…!
For hours, the rotation continued.
Titi stayed close, riding him slowly, lovingly. When she could no longer move, she slid to the side to clean his shaft with her tongue—while another queen took her place.
Each woman wore a new royal crest on her heart: not of her kingdom—but of submission to Saint Lakeman.
Some rode him.
Some worshipped him with their mouths.
Some kissed his feet.
Some rubbed their soaked pussies against one another while watching.
The room was a chorus of feminine cries:
"Ahhh—Master!"
"I'm cumming… I'm cumming again!"
"Mmmhh… breed me… make me yours…"
"Yesss… fill my womb, please…!"
Pah!
Pah! Pah!
Schlk! Slrp!
The sound of slapping skin and gushing pleasure echoed from wall to wall.
No breaks. No mercy. No guilt.
Titi, exhausted but smiling, rested her head on Lakeman's chest as she licked at his nipple and whispered:
"Cobra has no idea… that while he speaks… his queen is moaning for her Master and son-in-law…"
She giggled softly, then leaned down and kissed his tip again as her daughter's voice echoed in her mind.
'Maybe I'll bring Vivi next time… She deserves to know what heaven feels like…'
By evening, as the final bell of the Reverie tolled across Mariejois and the summit officially came to an end…
The debauchery within Lakeman's palace also reached its final crescendo.
One by one, the women slid from his bed—legs trembling, thighs dripping, bodies glowing with satisfaction.
They helped one another clean up with silk towels and warm water, whispering praises and light kisses.
They dressed again, donning fresh gowns and perfume.
All signs of their sin were concealed beneath beauty and grace.
Queen Titi turned once more before leaving and kissed Lakeman's cock lovingly.
"I'll return tonight, Master… once Cobra sleeps."
With that, she slipped away, head held high—like a proper queen.
By sundown, the room fell quiet once more.
Saint Lakeman remained seated at the center of his ruined throne of silk and surrender.
Expression unreadable.
Heart unmoved.
Power—absolute.
And as the rest of the world believed the Reverie had ended…
The true world order had just begun.
As the sun dipped lower behind the grand spires of Mariejois, casting long golden rays into his luxurious palace, the chamber remained steeped in heat and pleasure.
The royals had all gone, their bodies freshly dressed and their minds still spinning from the daylong debauchery.
But for Lakeman, the night was far from over.
His cock was still hard—throbbing, insatiable, sovereign.
Beneath him lay Stussy and Shakky, moaning in perfect sync, their elegant forms wrapped around his hips.
Shakky lay on her back, breasts bouncing with every brutal thrust, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets.
"Ahhh—hahh! Yes… Master… mmmgh—deeper!" she gasped, legs trembling as Lakeman slammed into her without pause.
Pah! Pah! Squish!
Stussy straddled his face at the same time, her glistening folds grinding against his tongue as she rocked with growing desperation.
"Ahhhnn… Master… lick me… just like that… I'm going to—ahh!"
From the side, Robin sat on his thigh, her fingers teasing her soaked slit as she kissed and licked his neck between moans, murmuring praises in a breathy voice.
"His strength… it's unreal… he hasn't slowed once…"
At his feet, Lily knelt with flushed cheeks, licking his balls and lower shaft with devotion, her silver hair clinging to her damp skin.
"Mmmnn… Master… use us all you want… please…"
The symphony of their cries filled the chamber again.
Slrp. Pah. Glrk.
Squish. Plap.
Lakeman grunted as he pistoned into Shakky harder, forcing her to scream out in rapture.
"Ahhhnnn—M-Master! I'm cumming again…!"
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