REWRITTEN!

Thank you for all your lovely reviews everyone.

And once again a big thanks to Mari-chan (Skriblerier) for Beta-reading this chapter as well.

Please enjoy the story! ~^o^~

What happened to me?

Where am I?

Why…

Why didn't I for once listen to what he said?

Just for once?

God, I'm such a damn fucking fool!

3. Chapter

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A drop of dangerous lust

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"Hey Whoa! What the fuck? Stop freaking touching my ass all the time, grass-head!" The chair falls as Sanji stands up abruptly, glaring down at the swordsman. Zoro almost choking on his alcohol, and almost smashes both the table and the bottle in the process.

"I've fucking told you, I, did, not, you pervert-cook!" he yells back as he too stands up, the chair screeching against the wooden floor. The other guests in the bar has silenced and are watching them with annoyance and worries.

"Whom you calling a pervert? Pervert! If you can't be honest, I'm damn hell gonna-"

"Zoro, Sanji, stop!" Nami cuts in angrily, halting Sanji immediately from kicking the marimo's ass, as she glares especially at him. "We are leaving now," She points at the two of them "and if you're not back at tomorrow morning you both can stay here the rest of your life, got that?"

"Of course, Nami-san." Sanji says carefully, adding a little supporting smile, though the uncomfortable look she gives in return, burns the smile away immediately, Sanji almost crawls back to his seat, though still sending an ominous glare to the swordsman, who hasn't faltered in his stand the slightest.

Nami sighs and pulls Luffy along, who complains about the fight to end that quickly. Usopp hurries to drag their captain along and tells him about that time when he saved a young maiden from the terrible giant frog… before a third fight actually will start with them all unnecessarily dragged into it. As they left, the two of them stares heated at each other.

"I. Didn't. Touch. You!" the swordsman underlines through gritted teeth. Sanji points dangerously at him.

"One, just one more time, and I'm fucking goanna kick your sorry ass until you won't even be able to sit on it! Got that, Marimo?"

"Yeah, yeah, what ever," the elder teen says and has already slumped back into his chair with a mug to his mouth. Sanji glares at him one more time, before looking down at the sadly remains of his spilled milk. Damn it. A bottle of cola is placed right in front of him. He looks up to be greeted with a supportive smile from their shipwright.

"Thought you might wanna cool down on this one, bro!" he says. "I'm leaving with the others. You'll be okay?"

"Yeah, thanks Franky." Sanji gives a smile in return. Franky nods.

"Okay then, see ya guys!"

Sanji throws a hand up, simultaneously as the swordsman lifts his bottle in gesture, and sips the cold cola. Not bad. Then they both fall back into silence, just enjoying each of their own drinks.

Sanji almost chokes on the cola, as a hand sneaks underneath the table and this time touches his crouch. Having enough of it, Sanji rises and kicks with no warning the green-haired bastard with his beer out of his seat, crashing into another table.

A woman shrieks, men runs out of their way. Someone calls for the manager's help.

"The hell, cook?!" Zoro says both surprised and pissed off as hell, as he gets up from the splintered table and chairs, stomping back to him. "I was just finishing my drink!" Sanji bumps head with the other, the moment he comes close enough.

"Stop fucking touch me all the time, you damn pervert!" Sanji hisses as he points a sharp finger into the other's chest, anger boiling inside of him. Zoro grunts and presses his head back against his, dark orbs piercing through icy blues.

"I wouldn't even want to touch someone like you anyways with a fire poker!" he grumbles back and gets ready to fight.

Sanji halts, somehow that blow hit harder than he thought possible. He steps back, grabs his cola and finishes it at once. He slams it hard onto the table and gives it such a hard kick that it splinters against the wall at the other side of the bar, just barely whistling past the swordsman, who doesn't even flinch. Another woman cries in fear, a man roars at him to get the fuck out of here, ignoring his hushing companion. Fits him well. He doesn't wanna stay here any longer.

The chef sends the swordsman a last glare before he stomps out of the tavern, leaving things as they are. If that shitty marimo wants to touch anyone's asses, he damn hell could find himself a whore or go back to Nami… oh god, Nami.

Sanji halts and looks at his shoes. His dearest Nami-swan… the hell had he done? Because of his disgusting behaviour last night, he was no longer allowed near her, she couldn't feel comfortable in his presence, no wonder. And now… now she even belonged to someone else. He still can't comprehend the thought of why she chose the marimo instead of him. All what he had done for her - God must hate him a lot. Things defiantly can't get any worse than it is now.

Sighing in frustration, Sanji runs a hand through his hair. Something cold hits his hand. He looks up and another drop hits him in the middle of his face. "Great," he spits out sarcastically and starts walking again, faster. But go where? He doesn't really feel like wanting to return back to the ship just yet, having many days before him to be trapped at that ship with his shipmates, gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his abdomen, that he hadn't felt before. He didn't want to be anywhere near them just yet. The captain's carefree behaviour gave him a worse taste in the mouth. Though he was glad that none of the others had said anything to their captain, he still had a bad feeling for not letting the captain in on what happened. He knew the consequences, he knew what could, no, would happen. Even for Luffy there had to be limits. Who'd believe him if he said he suspected his drink to be spiced yesterday? And then the question would be; by who? Before they'd even get an idea of it, the person could be far out on the sea.

The fuck should he do?

His black leather-shoes echoes down the empty streets, the old, dirty worn-down houses feel as if hungry demons are watching him. Sanji pats himself down, searching for his cigarettes, and when he finds them, the drizzle is now a full rain shower. He drops the packet back into his pocket with a curse, irritatingly kicks a stone away, as he searches for a temporarily shelter.

-TOBD- TOBD- TOBD-

"What is it now, Luffy?" Nami complains, as she catches their captain suddenly faltering behind, to suddenly stop.

"Is something wrong, Captain-san?" Robin asks as she catches the glimpse of concern in the teen's eyes.

"Yeah." Is all he says, and furrows his brows, as if he tries to comprehend what it could be. Nami rolls her eyes at him.

"They'll just fight each other again, break down the tavern and then come running back to us with half of the town behind them… like always." Their navigator says in a matter of fact, and pulls their captain along with her.

"Hey!"

"Ifwe won't get back to the ship in time, my clothes will be ruined and you'll be the one paying for it all!" Nami warns. Luffy pouts and protests hard, as she keeps pulling him with a "go go, move it!"

But Robin hasn't let go of the feeling, that something might be wrong. "Something wrong, sis?" Franky asks, as he catches her not moving along with the others. "Oi, Robin?"

"Perhaps we shouldn't have left them that early again," she then says, making the cyborg lift his sunglasses up to really look at her. "Something does feel off!"

-TOBD- TOBD- TOBD-

"Shiiit… what is this?" Sanji tumbles into a nearby wall again, but this time stays. The rough surface feels pleasantly cool. Loosening his tie, opening some of the buttons of his jacket and shirt, he almost rips the rest up impatiently. He feels as if he's about to burn up, even the rain can't cool him, he wants to stand flat against the wall, naked. He has to get back to the ship as soon as possible, has to get to Chopper, because something is definitely wrong with him. Pushing off, he moves with a hand following the wall, just for safety, because even his legs suddenly doesn't feel sturdy.

He has a feeling of being watched.

Looking over his shoulder he sees the group obviously following him from the shadows, not even sad that they'd been spotted. They're waiting for something.

Quickening his pace, Sanji hurries down an alley, mapping out what direction he instead can take down to the harbour. Though it doesn't take long before he comes to a dead end. He looks back. He can hear their lazy pace, their humorous talking, but yet not see them. He leaps and jumps and almost tumbles over the wall, there ends up with him landing ungracefully on his feet. Not good. What the heck is wrong with him?

It's pouring down now, making it barely possible to see the one building out from the other, even the streets are indifferent. Is he lost? Had the damn Marimo infected him with his bad sense of direction? Rubbing his eyes makes no different.

A sudden pain in his abdomen makes him stop, a twinge makes him crunch over himself. No no no no! the hell is going on? Forcing himself to stretch out of the uncomfortable pain, something snaps inside of him, a heated feeling leaks from his abdomen and down to his southernmost regions, where it blooms.

As the feeling hits, as he runs his hand over his pants, he feels the growing, feels the lust for more touch, the realisation hits him harder.

His drink has been spiced with some kind of an aphrodisiac, and those men behind him wasn't passing down the same streets as him by coincidence.

When? And how?

The marimo had told the truth, hadn't he? Was it then? It was the only time he'd been unaware of his drink.

Sanji runs, but having a growing part hanging between his legs and a growing lust burning his insides, it's almost impossible. He has heard of these kinds of drugs before, about drug gangs spicing their victims drink when the person least expects it, follows them through the streets to either beat them up and steal their belongings, or use them.

Moaning at the uncomfortable growing lust almost making it impossible to make the next jump over the wall, Sanji curses at himself for letting his eyes off his drink for just a second.

He shouldn't had lost his temper… now he could lose something else, beside his manly pride, if he didn't get to their ship damn hell soon!

Another overwhelming feeling makes him halt. He can't… he can't move his feet, he can't will his body to move. Every cell in him is trembling, his heart racing. He tries again, but to no use. Fuck. Fuck!

"Looks like the drug I slipped in your drink works perfectly this time," a voice says before him. Sanji looks up, the group there had been following him stands before him, slowly surrounding him. Five, six, seven… ten, eleven, fifteen. Shit! The group steps aside to reveal an orange-haired smirking man. "Though, it was an interesting performance what infected alcohol can do, I'll remember that till the next time."

He recognizes the man from the tavern, fuzzily. Same body shape as the marimo, but with a flaming orange hair instead. The man steps up to him and Sanji tries to will his legs to move, but it's as if they're rooted to the ground. Shitty, damn, fucking, bloody hell luck!

"I knew it." Sanji croaks hoarsely. Clearing his throat, eyes flickering around trying to find a way out of this mess. Finally his foot slides trembling back, a step! Then tries the other foot, a step, another step and another step, but not near fast enough. The man stops a couple of feet before him, smirking satisfied.

"Of course you did," he says "You're a smart kid."

"Fuck you, shit-head!"

Said shit-head chuckles. "No, fuck, you."

The men move fast, even though he tries to defend himself, they're over him in no time and he's tossed to the ground, pinned by several arm. Sanji tosses in their hold and curses.

"Don't touch me! Don't you fucking dare! Get your dirty hands off me!" his spits and tries to kick them.

The orange-haired shithead smiles at him like a freaking kid on Christmas Eve, while the men fight to hold him still. "How are we feeling tonight, Mr. Black Leg? Weird? Hot? Aroused?"

"Shut the fuck up, you damn perverted shit-head!"

"Ah, the wounded fox is still biting, huh?" The group chuckles. Sanji's furious. "How wonderful… Looks like I gave you the right dose this time. Though, I had hoped for Roronoa, it would have been fun to see that green-haired swordsman crumple under my touch, but after your little… performance last night, I thank whatever luck for that you mistook your jug from his." A spit hits spot on his left eye. Sanji smirks satisfied, while he tries to pull himself free. The action though costs him a kick to his abdomen and his head.

The orange-haired man dries off the spit on Sanji's chin and looks him dead in the eye.

"Undress him."

"No, no! Get your fucking, dirty hands… away from me!" Sanji screams, willing his body to defend itself, but he can't move, he's trembling, with pity lust. He roars, tries to even bite whomever comes too close. His shoes are gone, then his denims are gone. Buttons flies as they tear open his shirt – fuck, it was his favourite! "Don't touch me!" The men laugh at him, as he struggles to get free, but has no strength to it, and rips off his briefers and soon he's nothing put in his torn blue shirt, there is twisted above his head and successfully traps his arms above his head. Heart racing, he doesn't have to look down at himself to know how hard he is.

"Whow, what a needy bitch." One of the men comments. Sanji jolts in their hold, trying to get free, but has no energy left. He feels hot, almost burning from the inside out, even the rain falling on his heated skin feels arousing.

The leader licks his lips as he looks hungrily down at him and loosens his own belt. "Now, Mr. Black Leg, starts the real fun… for us!" The men forces his legs apart, with such ease and little restrain that it even surprises him, revealing everything for the leader before him, and holds him there. Pants falls to the ground, together with a dirty T-shirt. Sanji tries to glare, doesn't want to show his growing panic, as the man before him suddenly transforms, dark skin turns into an orange and black striped fur, the human appearance disappears, and soon two large paws-looking-hands lands at each side of his head.

A large nose sniffs to his hair, before a large smirk reveals rows of long sharp teeth. "You can't hide your fear, Black Leg," the creature chuckles "you reek of it, that and," He sniffs again, Sanji turn his face away "lust. What a beautiful tasty combination." He purrs.

"Shut, the fuck, up, you shitty, faggot!"

The tiger-man says nothing as he gets up, grabs Sanji's leg and spreads them even further apart, long nails digging into his tighs - he can't say if it hurts or feels good. Flinching, Sanji gasps as the nails dig deeper through his skin, he could have screamed but refuses them to have the satisfaction. He literally can see his naked self in the reflection of the creatures yellow-dark eyes.

"Cat Cat-fruit, model: Tiger!" informs the tiger-man, before leaning closer and licks the cold sweat away from his temple and neck, humming by the taste.

"T-tiger," Sanji repeats in disbelieve. It feels like a spasm as he tries to pull himself free. The tiger-man shoots forward, and Sanji has to bite his lips from screaming, as long sharp teeth sunk into his shoulder. A rough tongue runs over the bleeding wound, the tiger-man hums, licking his bloody lips.

"Lovely." The inhuman smile widens, as the man readies himself. Sanji pulls, more aggressive, but he can't get free – the men laughs at his attempt and roars up in mock, as Sanji screams in sudden pain, as the inhuman large length spears right into him in one hard thrust – he can take torture, bloodied painful fights, but this pain, the feeling of being split open from the inside by hard pressure, is unfamiliar horrible. Worst of all, he liked it. He liked the continuously hard thrust inside of him, hot slicked skin merciless prodding at his prostate, the bites on his skin, the feeling of the sharp nails. It's the drug, he knows that. The more he got, the more his body, no, the drug craved.

Another painful cry mixed with lust made its way out his throat, and soon he came, hard, but that didn't make the creature stop, on the contrary. The men had pulled away and now sat back, watching, waiting for something.

Nails grabs hold of his hips, lifted him slightly from the ground and, if possible, slammed even harder and faster into him. Sanji's head bangs against the asphalt as he feels himself grow hard again, he shut his eyes and forces himself to think of something else, but it's nearly impossible to the grunting growling sounds of the human tiger, and the constant slamming inside of him, breaking the slick skin in his ass.

A memory, barely 24 hours old comes to his mind.

"Can't take the heavy stuff, cook?" Zoro. Of all the people, he's the first to enter his mind. The man had laughed heartedly amused as Sanji coughed, mistaken his own jug of beer with the marimo's jug of strong whiskey. Sanji had glared at him, cursed him and said that, of course he could, if a shithead as the buffalo-marimo could handle it, then he as hell could as well. Then he had tugged it all down in one go, ignoring the burning in his throat. "I'm impressed." He'd said, as Sanji hammered an empty jug on the table "You're not a pathetic lightweight after all."

Nails claws down his legs, pulling him out of his thoughts. He came again, hard. Taking in shaking breaths, he could cry as he feels himself grow hard again, instead a sob makes its way through, before he howls in pain as the pace quickens, the angle changes and the tiger-man drive in harder. He's dry inside, the feeling is like rapid use of sandpaper scraping against his oversensitive skin. His joints are creaking, his bones close to breaking.

Somewhat he's glad that he mistook their jugs, not even the marimo should be exposed to something like this. What had that idiot done to attract the wrath of a sadistic sex-mad psycho like this? Why did the fucker want Zoro of all?

The third time Sanji cum, he's too exhausted to even breathing, and just as he grows hard again, the tiger-shit finally comes as well, the cold liquid stings. As the pressure inside of him subsides, Sanji groans in relief and hopes that was it, that they'd leave him to his misery self and drown in his own embarrassment in the cold unforgiving rain. He should never had left that tavern on his own.

"He's all yours, boys. Do as you please!" The tiger-man growls with a satisfied smirk, while turning back to his human self.

No. No. No!

"Zoro." He chokes in a whisper, wishing for soon to wake up from this hellish nightmare, as the next in the line opens his belt. A tear runs from his eye. "Help…!"

To be continued