Congrats on making it through Chapter 12. That was a rough one. A reminder...
The story is rated M.
I do not own One Piece.
Kuroda hummed to himself as he walked. Not so much because he was in a good mood, but because it distracted him from the noise of his raucous drunken crewmates and because it warned the other Iron Fists of his approach. Though he had great respect for his fearsome captain, the doctor carried a certain amount of disdain for the rest of the crew. The men lacked a certain mindfulness in their actions, which they made up for with noise, drinking, and brutality that too often resulted in the premature deaths of otherwise strong victims.
Turning a corner, the doctor frowned slightly as he sidestepped the prone form of a passed out pirate, nearly dropping the load he had been carrying in the process. The fully laden tray tipped precariously in his hand, and several conscious Iron Fist pirates fled when they heard their doctor curse under his breath. Pausing for a moment, Kuroda readjusted the contents balanced on the wide tray into what was hopefully a more stable arrangement. The cart that Sanji's kick had propelled into the ocean had carried more than just food and water; and, with his carefully chosen supplies now resting at the bottom of the reef, the doctor's stores were running low. What few ingredients for his medicine mixing remained were precious, and heads would roll if he lost a single drop of what he now carried because of the bumbling idiocy of some faceless crewmate.
Satisfied that his cargo was once again secure, Kuroda continued his journey through the winding hallways of the Iron Fists' compound. His long striding steps carried him through the headquarters at an astounding pace, and he found himself at his destination within a few short minutes. Whatever pirates had been queued up awaiting their turn with their hostage must have heard of the doctor's approach, because the Devil Fruit user found the hallway empty and the door to Sanji's cell unmanned. The doctor let a small satisfied smile pull at the corners of his mouth as he opened the heavy metal door, carefully balancing the tray of supplies on the fingertips of his other hand as he did so.
As he entered, he had to duck his head, hunching his shoulders uncomfortably to accommodate his incredible height in the cramped space. Even so, Kuroda still felt the collar of his shirt brush against the ceiling, causing a small amount of dust to rain down. Any traces of a smile disappeared from his face. He had always hated this tiny room.
Not bothering to put down the tray, Kuroda noisily cleared his throat, effectively drawing the attention of the small group of Iron Fist pirates in the back corner of the room. The ruffians stood in a small semi-circle, and the doctor could see one of his crewmates kneeling on the floor, laughing as he thrust into Sanji's prone form. The blonde's head was turned so he faced the wall, obscuring his face from the doctor's view. The pirate held his victim's hips in his hands as he raped him. Sanji's legs hung limply on either side of his abuser's body, his bloodied feet twitching every now and then when by some clumsy luck the other man hit his most sensitive areas.
The group of onlookers stopped their jeering when they heard the intruding noise, and backed away cautiously when they saw their doctor looming near the door. Kuroda leveled a blank stare at his crewmates, no less imposing to the simple-minded men despite his awkwardly bent posture in the small space.
Never taking his eyes from his dangerous ship doctor, the pirate nearest the one taking his turn with Sanji tapped his crewmate on the shoulder. The man growled irritably as he was distracted from his fun, but the angry sound quickly died in his throat when he saw the reason for his interruption. He gaped at the doctor for a moment before coming to his senses. Turning his attention back to the shivering blonde in his hands, the pirate carefully pulled out, trailing blood and cum as he did so. His victim moaned and shuddered as the invading object left his body and then lay still in his own pooling blood. The ruffian barely managed to mask his disappointment as he zipped and buttoned his pants. He would have to finish up on his own somewhere else.
Kuroda watched his crewmates scurry from the room with a deadpan expression, making sure that the door was latched properly when the last man left. He didn't want any interruptions.
Finally finding himself alone with his patient, the doctor released a small sigh and prepared himself for what was to come. It had been three days since Saul had had his fill of torturing the blonde and left him in the cell for the rest of the crew. In the time following, Kuroda had made daily visits to the captive chef under his captain's orders to provide treatment and prolong their victim's life a little longer. The doctor's time spent with Sanji had fallen into a loose pattern of behavior that Kuroda didn't particularly care for.
Carefully depositing his tray on the dirt floor, Kuroda approached his patient with slow measured steps before dropping into a crouch beside him. He saw Sanji tense at his proximity, but chose to ignore it for the moment, frowning as he took stock of his patient's condition.
Sanji's arms remained bound behind him, and his back and shoulders bent at an unnatural angle as he lay on the trapped appendages. The blonde's wounds were healing poorly. Standish had only allowed for the most basic treatment and no bandages, and Kuroda could see swelling around several of the boy's more serious cuts and abrasions, the open sores glistening dully in the dim light. Infection was beginning to fester in a few of the deeper cuts in spite of the doctor's daily visits, likely a result of the dirty conditions, heat, and humidity. The cook's feet and ankle were especially troublesome. Pus, blood, and other fluids seeped from the mangled ankle, and the destroyed skin on the soles of his feet seemed to peel off at only the slightest provocation, leaving them in worse and worse shape with every round of half-treatment. However, the worst, most sickening and frustrating for Kuroda was Sanji's manhood, which remained bound and catheterized. The abused organ was painful just to look at, and the discomfort that it caused was the root of what made his patient so frustrating to deal with.
Slowly reaching out, Kuroda gently caressed Sanji's left cheek with the back of his fingers, brushing his fringe of blonde hair to the side to expose the flushed skin. The doctor noted with a small frown that the boy was burning a fairly high fever and that a fresh bruise marred the pale skin. Sanji had been so strong only days before, but the careless actions of the Iron Fist crew were driving their most resilient victim to-date to an early grave. With a feather soft touch, Kuroda traced the blonde's now discolored jawline with his fingers until they reached his chin. Holding onto it with the same gentle grasp, he turned Sanji's head so he faced him. The captive began to tremble at the action, no doubt anticipating another round of whatever abuse he had suffered at the hands of the Iron Fist crew.
"And how are we feeling today, Sanji-kun?" asked Kuroda as if he were a regular doctor addressing a patient in a hospital.
Sanji's eyes snapped open as he recognized the doctor's odd singsong voice, his trembling subsiding slightly. The cook knew that he wouldn't suffer any new abuse in the hour or so that he would spend under Kuroda's care. He whimpered around his gag, fresh tears welling up in his swollen reddened eyes. Kuroda frowned. He hated tears.
"Now, no crying please, Sanji-kun." He gently hooked his arms under his prone patient's shoulders and knees, and lifted him from the dirt floor; suppressing a grimace as the action reopened some of the blonde's lashmarks, causing them to bleed on the white sleeve of his lab coat. His wide mouth curled into what he hoped came across as a reassuring smile. "Remember? You promised, no more tears."
His patient sniffed, his broken body shaking a little with effort, but the tears continued to drip down his cheeks. Kuroda heaved a frustrated sigh and carried the blonde to where he had left the tray, placing him in a seated position in the cleanest spot he could find. Sanji made eye contact with the doctor as he was leaned against the wall, and the desperate pleading look in his tear-filled blue eyes caused a whole new wave of annoyance to wash over the Devil Fruit user.
Kuroda found joy in controlling a strong will, not breaking it. Tears and begging only served to aggravate him, which was why he had always been content to let Standish and Saul finish off their victims. Once they were broken, the doctor wanted nothing to do with his former patients. He was frustrated that his captain made him continue to treat this one, dragging out the inevitable. And, to be honest, he was slightly surprised at the level of disappointment he felt at seeing Sanji in this state. The blonde had been a remarkable lover, even within the clutches of a drug induced haze. And his sharp wit and biting sarcasm when lucid had been a welcomed and refreshing break from the normally dull, whimpering victims that were delivered to the doctor's bed.
Turning away from his patient, Kuroda reached out an elongated arm and pulled the tray over so it rested closer to where he knelt beside his patient. The contents of a large bowl that took up most of the tray's surface sloshed a little from the action, though luckily none of it spilled. Carefully picking up the vessel, the doctor dipped a square of soft cloth in the milky fluid. A medicine of his own making, the liquid was a watered down version of what he had used to treat Sanji's wounds the first time around. A little bit of herbal antiseptic mixed with the substance produced by his Devil Fruit abilities created a medication that doubled as a cleaning agent and a topical painkiller. This mix, however, contained no anesthesia as the previous one had, and Kuroda could tell by the darkened rings under his patient's eyes that the blonde could dearly use some.
When he was satisfied that the cloth was adequately soaked in the salve, Kuroda began the grim time-consuming process of cleaning Sanji's many wounds. Starting with the abrasions that circled the blonde's neck, he steadily made his way down his patient's battered body, making return trips with the cloth to the medication in the bowl as needed. It was tedious work that clearly caused the captive a great deal of discomfort. Despite Kuroda's gentle touch, Sanji whimpered and moaned around the leather in his mouth, and occasionally cried out when the soft fabric raked across a particularly tender area. As with his treatments in the two days previous, the blonde was especially sensitive about his bloodied fingertips, struggling weakly against his bonds when the doctor took his injured hands in his own. The places where is fingernails had been were swollen and irritated from time spent pressed underneath him in the hours that he lay on his back in the dirt, and a couple of the open wounds appeared to be infected.
Kuroda took extra special care when he reached his patient's bound erection. Sanji shuddered when the soft fabric made contact with the highly sensitive region and bucked his hips upward into the doctor's hands more than once. Every time, Kuroda frowned and waited for the blonde to relax before continuing on. He couldn't help but to wonder if the old defiant Sanji might reappear if he were allowed relief from his painfully prolonged arousal. Ever mindful of the abused organ, the doctor carefully spread Sanji's legs to clear away the dirt, blood and cum that stained the skin between them and to treat any new tearing as best as he could. After several minutes of labor, he determined that the area was as clean as it would get given the circumstances and moved on.
The doctor saved his patient's feet for last, and with good reason. The pain that the treatment caused to the tender skin made Sanji scream and cry without fail. It was all Kuroda could do not to cringe at the sound of the blonde wailing as the burnt skin rubbed away at the faintest touch of the cloth. It was during this part of the treatment that the doctor realized why his captain continued to send him in to see to the boy. This in and of itself was a form of torture. The thought made him frown slightly as he ran the medicated fabric over the sole of Sanji's right foot, involuntarily tightening his grip around the blonde's broken ankle when he felt the appendage jerk away from his hand.
"My apologies, Sanji-kun," he said in response to his patient's pained yelp. Having finished, he dropped the cloth into remaining contents of the bowl—now stained pink with blood—with a small plop. Kuroda sat back on his haunches for a moment, lost in thought. He didn't like being used as a device for torture. The doctor took his Hippocratic Oath seriously, in his own twisted way.
Sanji whimpered again, indicating that he was ready for the next stage of his treatment, the sound quickly snapping Kuroda from his reverie. The doctor's frown deepened. This was the part that he loathed the most.
Reaching out, he gently removed the strap that gagged his patient, letting the leather fall to the dirt floor. He knew his patient had been waiting almost eagerly for this part, and the blonde's response was immediate.
"Please…"
Kuroda grimaced, his hand halfway to the tray. He hadn't been quick enough to avoid the begging.
"Please…" Fresh tears rolled down Sanji's cheeks as he struggled to make his torn vocal cords work. "…please, take it out. Please…let…let me come. Please—"
The doctor cut off his patient's pathetic pleas for relief by thrusting a cup to his cracked lips. Firmly holding the blonde's head in one hand, he tipped the cup and poured its contents into his mouth. It was the same watery mix of nutrients that Kuroda had administered through the feeding tube in his infirmary aboard the ship. Sanji sputtered and coughed as the bitter liquid flooded his mouth and ran down his throat. When he was satisfied that every last drop had been consumed, Kuroda took away the cup, only to cringe, annoyance marring his features, as his patient renewed his pleading.
"Please, no more," begged Sanji, his voice a little stronger after the liquid meal. His body shook with each sob. "Please, take it out. Please, let me come."
Kuroda turned back to the blonde, wearing his best no-nonsense expression; though he seriously doubted that the captive could see it for the tears that blurred his blue eyes.
"Now, Sanji-kun, you know the answer," he chastised the blonde, who continued to whimper and plead even as he spoke. "The Captain has decided that this is the best way to keep you from running, and"—
The doctor stopped midsentence when his patient broke his well-established pattern of behavior by launching himself at his captor. Kuroda tensed when the blonde suddenly leaned forward and buried his tear-streaked faced in his shoulder.
"Please…please, take it out." Sanji's voice was muffled by Kuroda's lab coat, and the doctor could feel tears beginning to soak the fabric.
Kuroda sat frozen in place, his mouth slightly agape. Never—never—had one of his victims willfully sought physical contact with him. His heart fluttered in his chest and his mind raced, unsure of how to respond. Slowly, as if by instinct, he raised his arms and wrapped them over his patient's trembling shoulders, caressing the boy's blonde hair with one elongated hand.
"Please," continued the blonde, his voice thick with tears, "please, I'll…I'll do anything. Please…let me come."
The doctor's eyebrows shot up. Anything?
He felt a pleasant tingle wash over him as his body reminded him of the first time his had lain with Sanji in his infirmary nearly two weeks ago. Kuroda shivered a little as he remembered the blonde's aroused moans, his eager mouth, and his talented tongue.
"Are you sure, Sanji-kun?" he asked, already unwrapping one arm from around his patient's naked form.
He felt the blonde nod into his shoulder, and reached a tentative hand down, his fingertips brushing the tip of the catheter. Sanji shivered as Kuroda's hand explored further until he grasped the end of the silken necktie in his hand, intending to loosen it to ease the catheter's removal.
"And what do we have here?" The voice's deep rumble broke the silence with the violence of a thunderclap.
Kuroda jerked upright and hurriedly stood, letting his patient fall back against the wall and swearing as he hit his head on the low ceiling. He whirled around to face his captain, who loomed large in the doorway, an evil grin splitting his face from ear to ear.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were defying orders." Standish's voice came out low and dangerous, the biting growl of an alpha putting the beta in its place.
The doctor merely frowned, knowing too well that a verbal response would be pointless. They both knew the answer. Instead, he bent and retrieved his tray from the floor, easily lifting its significantly lighter load and balancing it on one hand.
"I was just finishing my treatment," he said, passing his captain on the way to the door. The doctor indicated his patient, who was now trembling with fear, with a wave of his free hand. "He's all yours."
Standish's grin widened, and he quickly crossed the small room. Seating himself next to Sanji, he pulled the blonde into his lap. The captive chef's body began to shake more violently as his captor spread his legs to either side. The Iron Fist captain sneered up at his ship's doctor as he hooked his arms under the long pale limbs, pulling them even wider apart and completely exposing the poor boy's bound erection and torn skin.
"You know, I wasn't too happy with Saul when I first saw what he did to Sanji-chan," Standish conceded. He began to finger his captive, drawing out a whole series of aroused moans. "But, I have to admit, I quite like him like this."
Kuroda suppressed a scowl, his mood long since soured by the intrusion. All he wanted now was the solitude of his infirmary.
"Please…please, stop."
The doctor grimaced as Sanji renewed his begging. Standish smiled even wider and added a second massive finger, drawing a pained groan from the blonde as the captain clawed his way deeper.
"Please, stop." A sob hitched in the captive chef's throat and fresh tears spilled from his eyes. "Please…please, let me come."
The bowl and cup rattled noisily against the tray as Kuroda's hand began to shake with suppressed anger, and he balled his free hand into a fist. But his captain kept doggedly on, the action of his invading fingers causing his victim to loudly sniffle and sob between his pathetic pleas for relief. Finally, the doctor could stand no more.
"Oh, just gag him already!" he snapped, spinning to face Standish once more, barely managing to avoid overturning his tray in the process.
The pirate captain grinned up at him. "My hands are a little full, so if you wouldn't mind…"
Kuroda glowered at his captain for a moment before striding over to silence the blonde himself. Much to his dismay, the leather strap was nowhere to be seen, and he realized that Standish must be sitting on it. Huffing irritably, the doctor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and roughly shoved it into Sanji's mouth. The cook choked on the impromptu gag, coughing around the fabric. Kuroda was halfway to the door when his captain addressed him once more.
"It seems you've taken a liking to this one, Doctor," grinned Standish as he continued to torment his captive. "What, would you have kept him as a pet?"
The doctor stopped and turned to face his captain, struggling to keep his face neutral. The Iron Fist captain brought his free hand up and roughly grabbed Sanji's face, turning it so he was forced to look at Kuroda. The doctor's eyebrow twitched as he fought to keep his anger hidden. The beseeching look still lingered in those tear-filled blue eyes, but it was now laced with another emotion. Betrayal? Kuroda met Sanji's sorrowful gaze with a cold one of his own. The Devil Fruit user would show no weakness, no compassion. Those traits did nothing more than pave one's road to hell.
"Not particularly, no," said the doctor, redirecting his gaze to his captain.
The grin dropped from Standish's face so quickly that Kuroda could swear he could see it lying on the dirt floor. "My orders are final. You'd do well to remember that."
Kuroda barely managed to suppress the scowl that threatened to flash across his pale features, choosing instead to simply turn and leave. When he finally reached the hallway, he released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, relieved to be out of the oppressive room. He made his way as quickly as possible back to the familiar warmth of his infirmary and the security of his homemade medicines. Kuroda frowned deeply as he walked, confused by the feeling gripping at his chest. He hoped that things would return to normal soon.
"You know what I miss?"
An Iron Fist pirate turned to face his crewmate, raising a quizzical eyebrow in response.
"Boobs." The other pirate's eyes grew wide as he pronounced the single syllable, his hands comically squeezing at the air.
His nearby crewmates laughed at the man's antics. The small raiding party of pirates had been sent out to replace the supplies lost during Sanji's second escape attempt. Numbering around twenty men, the group consisted of crewmembers that had either grown bored with the Iron Fists' newest victim, or flat out refused to lay with a man.
"Yeah," laughed another pirate roughly, "shame that Marine girl got away. She was cute. Looked like a good fit too."
Several others murmured their agreement. The pirates were itching for some action and to have a woman beneath them once again. They sat silently for several minutes, each of them picturing their ideal catch.
"Speaking of a tight fit, you should have seen that red head," one of the others chimed in. He grinned as he pictured Nami struggling in her bonds the night of Sanji's abduction. "She was a cold bitch though. Didn't shed a single tear the whole time we did her friend. We fucked that bastard raw for hours, and she just watched the entire thing, her eyes as dry as a bone."
Several of the surrounding pirates snickered at the story, many that had been there for the abduction nodding in agreement.
"I wish we could have taken her instead," lamented an Iron Fist, drawing even more nods of approval.
"Ship off the port bow!" the lookout suddenly called from the crow's nest.
The bored Iron Fists immediately sprang to their feet, running to see for themselves. Sure enough, just close enough to be seen with the naked eye, there was a large ship sailing in the opposite direction. The pirates squinted in the bright afternoon sun, trying to make out the symbol painted on the sails.
"Merchant, Marine, or pirate?" one of the men on deck called up to the crow's nest.
The lookout frowned and raised the spyglass to his eye, focusing on the flag of the distant ship. There was something oddly familiar about the symbol emblazoned across the black fabric, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Definitely pirates!" he yelled down to his expectant comrades.
"Which ones?!" replied a crewmate, somewhat irritably.
"Dunno!" answered the lookout.
"Well, what does the flag look like, moron?!" several of the men on deck bellowed angrily.
The Iron Fist pirate studied the mystery flag a second time before yelling down his answer. "It's just a skull and cross bones! And…a hat?"
The pirate that had just been describing Nami's tearless resistance grinned darkly. "A straw hat?"
The incompetent lookout took a third gander at the rapidly approaching ship before confirming his crewmate's suspicions with a thumbs up. The pirate, who had been placed in charge of the raiding party by Standish himself, puffed up his chest, his eyes glinting with suppressed excitement.
"Prepare to board the ship!" he ordered. His temporary subordinates eyed him doubtfully.
"You sure that's a good idea?" questioned one of the others. "I heard they're pretty strong."
The short term captain frowned. "Weren't you just saying how much you missed boobs?" he snapped. "Well, this red head had a great rack on her. Besides, they were easy enough to get past the last time." He laughed at his own bravado.
Emboldened by their leader's confidence, the Iron Fist raiding party rushed around the deck of the small ship, preparing themselves for what they assumed would be an easily won victory. The Iron Fist in charge grinned widely as they sailed within range of the Straw Hats' ship. He could already feel that red head's sweet flesh beneath him. It had been all too long since he had last had a woman, and he was more than ready for a little action.
Not my best chapter, but, what the hey...
Anyway, a few important things. So, please read on...
Firstly, I would really like all of your opinions on the OCs in this little fic. I like to use fanfiction to test out characters, and I would love to hear all of your reactions to Standish, Saul, and Kuroda. Who do you respond to the most strongly? What aspects of these characters work the best? What do you think needs improvement? Any other comments are welcome as well.
Secondly, I recently read an older fanfic where the author included a chapter of "extras" at the end. This was where she wrote in story scenarios that were suggested by readers, but didn't necessarily fit into the plot or were contrary to what she had planned. I was thinking that this might be a fun exercise in writing, as well as interesting for you guys. I've already had one request from a guest reviewer, who wanted to see Zoro find Sanji after Saul had tortured him. Is there anything else relating to this story that you guys wanted to read? Please, suggest away and you may just see it in an "extras" chapter when I finish this little smut-tastic work of fiction.
Thirdly, I was trapped without my computer or internet over the weekend, and only able to think about CMD. (I literally wrote the first two paragraphs of this chapter on my phone, out of desperation.) But I did have my sketch pad and pens, so please go an see my Chapter 8 cover image. It features a very sad bandaged Sanji and a very happy Kuroda, for any of you that might be curious as to how I picture him.
Art is here: PrisonerofConvention (d0t) deviantArt (d0t) com (remove space) /art/No-more-tears-lines-392577061
Don't forget to remove the spaces and replace the "(d0ts)"s with actual "."s. :)
I look forward to reading wonderful, thoughtful reviews!