Hallo and welcome back!

Thank you all for your comments and support, I'm using this note as a quasi farewell because I'm sure my subscriptions will drop a bit with the next chapter, it's been a good time, hasn't it? Anyways, for those of you sticking with it, I'm always happy to read your thoughts, recently I got some comments and pm's of people I didn't even think were still reading, which was very nice indeed.

On another note if any of you is a crafty artist with time to spare, I'd love a coverpicture for the story, pretty please.

Ghost, it wasn't creepy creepy, I just never thought there was any form of responsibility on my end (apart from the sm stuff) so hearing what a huge effect it had was … let's say eye opening.

Last time Robin was being punished in plain sight, but that didn't really go as planned, did it? Let's see how Zoro moves on from there.

Did anything ever go according to plan? Not quite, not for him. He should just stop planning altogether - leaving things to luck worked way better for him anyways. His idea had been great, he decided. Having Robin suffer dinner had been a good idea. Definitely. Unfortunately, it hadn't agitated the shit cook, but the navigator. Damn, his ears were still ringing from when she'd chewed him out for putting Robin in that position, and Robin for allowing it. Maybe Franky had noticed, too. That thumbs up he'd given him had been entirely too suspicious, even without the guy stumbling over how manly dancing skills were. Aside from them, nobody had noticed, all way too hung up on the damn dancing. Fucking cook.

Didn't matter now. They'd probably find out soon enough. Carefully, he put Kitetsu back in its sheath. It was thrumming with energy, and he rolled his good eye in response. Brat would be absolutely insufferable the coming weeks. He just hoped that they'd run across some filthy vermin soon to satiate its thirst. Cutting some marine muscle wouldn't do, he knew. It wanted Robin, positively lusted for her, and denying it became harder with every fucking day. It had never been this pronounced, and he wasn't quite sure if it was his own cravings amplified by the blade or the other way round. It would scare him if he planned to cut her with the cursed blade, but it wouldn't go anywhere near her today. Or any day for that matter. Fucking needed an all out battle against some thugs nobody would miss.

Getting lost in blood and guts is what they needed, because if he denied it for much longer, the artistic swipe of the blade to paint a willing body deliciously crimson would not pacify the sword. He'd seen that months ago. Fucking carnage.

It had been perfectly happy with the baboons on Kuraigana Island, but ever since this thing with Robin had started, and he hadn't satiated their common desire… It had been a mistake to make her hold it. It had latched on instantly.

He sighed as he took Wadô. He'd have to talk to Robin about it. He didn't personally think that he needed this particular kink in his life regularly, but… he couldn't deny that Kitetsu had been infinitely easier to handle with regular playdates. He wouldn't use it on her and in general didn't plan on continuing this with her after she got his blasted mark. He indulged her now because he couldn't fucking argue with the damn woman's logic, but he would not fucking budge on that. He would not be responsible for any more open wounds. No matter what she said, they did pose a risk. And if she didn't want him to satiate the blade's thirst with someone else, he'd just have to keep growing stronger than the cursed sword. He would not use it on her. Period. No problem.

He looked at the immaculate blade before him, freshly cleaned. It would taste her blood. She wanted it on her shoulder blade. Didn't care about such details, would carve it along her jugular if she so desired. He knew the general safety recommendations, of course, knew that under no circumstance was he to cut anywhere near there. But he had no need for such rules. With his trusted sword in hand, he would not cut anything he did not intend to cut. Still, he would tie her to the floor, because if he gave her his mark, it would be fucking perfect.

Stone was ready, clicked it in place just as Robin entered the crow's nest. He nodded in the direction of the weight plates he'd placed beforehand. "Clean it, Robin"

She looked confused for a moment, probably hadn't thought he'd get to the point like that, then opened the compartment with the cleaners. Usually, they cleaned up after sessions together… damn what he had missed! Her perfect ass in the air as she scrubbed the floor, cleaning on her knees, garters cutting into her cheeks in just the right way, bearing her naked cunt to him. Damn, she'd really climbed up without underwear. As mouth-watering as the sight was, he had shit to do.

Took the small leather case. No way he'd ever admit it out loud, but curly brow was a fucking artist when it came to knives. Was a fucking shame he didn't use them in battle. He picked one up, shortly marvelled at the blade just as beautiful as his own. It was probably their only common ground; both knew how to appreciate a blade. Out of all the things that pissed him off about the cook, his knives were probably the one thing he could appreciate. Didn't mind he had been tasked to polish them, not at all, especially not now. In fact, it was entirely satisfying to know that the blond would have a fucking heart attack if he knew that he used his precious utensils as sex props.

With the first grainy shing as the short blade slid over the stone, Robin froze. She had seen the stone, had heard the sound many times before, but this time was different, wasn't it?

"Keep going. You don't want to get an infection, do you, Robin?" he asked and accentuated his meaning with another clirring drag over the stone, and she shuddered in response, hurrying her pace. She fucking enjoyed it. He'd have her dripping in no time.

She was done with the floor the moment he put away the first knife. "Undress," he ordered as he wiped his hands. He didn't have to look to see that she eagerly complied while he got their ropes. With a hand on her shoulder, he pushed her to the floor, her neck slender enough for his thumb to reach her pulse on the other side, the gesture alone earning him a breathy moan. A little more pressure, and he had her on her back. Woman was like clay in his hands, reacting to even his tiniest gestures… He'd never been with anyone that submissive, always had to fight for the right to put them in their place in some way or other. That may just be because this was a recommendation-only type of thing, subs recommending him to like-minded subs. After all, no-one in their right mind would approach a wanted pirate just because he may or may not have coincidentally tied a black bandana on his left. Didn't mind either way. Didn't make the experience any less enjoyable. In fact, battle and sex were so similar, his body reacting to both roughly the same… He definitely didn't mind some resistance, made his win all the more gratifying when they finally succumbed. Now, none of that mattered anymore, because with Robin, everything was different.

Robin's unconditional submission had his blood surging in ways he hadn't experienced before. Despite her past, he knew she didn't do it because she was conditioned that way but because she accepted him. Not because she feared he'd harm her in a way she had experienced before, but because she trusted him not to do that.

It made his dominance over her even sweeter. Even more right.

Tied her wrists together first, the short red rope imitating images that were just three strokes away. He'd make her wait for those though.

Took another rope for her ankles before suspending them against her upper thighs. Three wraps around, up to her knees. Just like last time, she gasped with every flick of the tails. Hitched his way down one side and then up the other, making sure she wouldn't squirm out of it. Pulled her up to kneel with the red Tails and tied them off through the hole of the weight plate with just a quick fix, nothing to go around a limb but his weight plate didn't mind that. It was quick to tie, and if she panicked or they were attacked or gods forbid curly brow made to get his knives, he'd have her free with just a pull. Did the same with the rope around her legs.

"Get up."

He saw her muscles straining, but once her elbows were straight, she didn't move an inch, her hands flat against the iron, the rope not giving her any way. Those were some of his lighter weights.

"Down."

Forearms resting on the plate, her tits squished against the floor. Perfect. He pulled her up with her hair before loading all of it over her left shoulder. So fucking beautiful. The slender column of her pale neck, the completely unblemished back… oh, he'd change that. She shuddered when his rough fingers traced the line of her shoulder blade, giving her just the barest of a taste of what was to come. Fuck, she wanted him to stain that skin that she had probably gone to great lengths to heal. Stain it permanently. Or as permanent as a scar would be for her.

He untied his bandana. When this between them had started, and he'd had just a vague idea of what she had endured, he had thought any form of psychological play impossible. Couldn't possibly put her in a situation where she could experience fear. Probably had enough of it for a lifetime. Now, he did not hesitate to tie the black cloth over her eyes. She had proven to be quite stable now that she didn't fear her preferences anymore, and she had been quite reactive to his voice. There was nothing to fear in this game, not for him. He just couldn't stop talking, not for too long at least.

Well well well, goodbye to everyone opting out now. Everyone indecisive, the next chapter will be severely cut (huehuehue) on ffnet, and in all its bloody glory on AO3… Though I'm not entirely sure on the glory part, it's not yet written because it's giving me a had time. A really hard time. If any of you want to share your expertise on the subject please do contact me! Maybe you can spark some sudden creativity.

I really hope I can get it done 'til next week, but not promising… like I said, hard time.