"Combination!"
"What?"
"Combination. Pretty please?" Nami adds coyly.
There's an expression on Trafalgar's face, something akin to a total disbelief, better described as "what, are you joking?" or even "what are you smoking?"
"Am I supposed to help you to rob my own house?"
"Why, yes," she drawls, "the sooner I take your money, the sooner I'm outta here."
"Oh, no. She is serious…"
"I wouldn't want to impose on you, doctor. I'll be out of your hair and you'll get back to your beauty sleep. Besides, judging by the bags under your eyes, it looks like you need it."
Trafalgar is muttering under his breath something unintelligible and definitely very unglamorous to her, while Nami is contemplating her options.
Sure, she can crack the good doctor's safe. Although it's one of the newest models, and not an easy nut to crack, Nami the Cat Burglar is a professional and nothing is impossible for a woman with the right amount of determination.
However, it'd take time and a lot of hard work. And where's the fun in there?
Her second option is to crack the good doctor himself. And there's just two ways to approach this problem.
"Pleasure and pain… The most powerful weapons in any woman's arsenal, my girl."
These were the teachings of her former 'benefactor' Arlong, the shithead and the king of assholes. Why does she have to remember his words now?
Still, there is a grain of truth in the shitty pimp's words. So, pain and pleasure…
Nami considers pain. Oh, she knows how to extract the needed information from the unwilling source, knows how to apply just the right amount of pressure… Still, she is no sadist and takes no pleasure in the physical sufferings of her fellow human beings. Other forms of suffering she finds acceptable – like the moral suffering or discomfort caused by the loss of a large amount of money.
Besides, doctor Trafalgar is a man of the underworld. Chances are he knows how to withstand the torture.
That leaves another option. Pleasure. That is sometimes worse than pain.
"So, doctor, what do you think about…"
"Just drop it," his voice is full of menace. "Let's pretend I've got a severe case of amnesia. I'll give you no combination and that is final."
"You are so difficult, doctor," she sighs. Amnesia, huh? She knows just the right way to relive his memories.
"You know that you'll tell me anyway. You have no choice."
Nami pushes closer to the Dark Doctor, her mouth stretched in a wicked grin (it's a good thing he can't see her now!), and puts her hands on his chest possessively. The doctor's body really is a piece of art, not an ounce of fat, only lean muscle and tanned skin, marred or better say adorned by the intricate web of tattoos. She has one of her own, a wild swirl of deep indigo, well hidden under the leather of her cat suit.
Trafalgar's breathing is calm and measured. Well, not for long.
She starts to explore his nude upper body – his pectorals, his shoulders, his vulnerable armpits. Her fingertips are threading lightly, agile and nimble, graceful as butterflies; they glide to and fro, following the contours of his tattoos. There are traces of old scars under her fingers, almost invisible now (he obviously did a corrective surgery, dermabrasion or how it is called), that unveil the mysteries he himself would rather forget. She tickles and scratches, confident, playful.
"Are you going to get the combination number by petting me?" he says, not quite trusting his own voice. Blush is slowly creeping on his cheeks, and yet he chooses to pretend that nothing is happening, that everything is as it should be, that nobody is fondling his restrained and exposed body. And then the talented fingers of the Cat Burglar find his nipples and for a moment he forgets how to breathe…
When she pulls away the comforter that covers his legs, his arousal is oh so obvious. Trafalgar tries to squirm away from her, as far as his handcuffs would allow him, to no avail. There's no more Nami, Cat Burglar, there is a she-devil, succubus, a being with poisonous touches, who is able to reduce even the strongest willed man to a quivering heap of overstimulated flesh.
"Well, are you ready to tell me what I want to hear?" she murmurs in his ear while her hand tickles his bearded chin.
He shakes his head in denial, face flushed from anger and embarrassment. With each second his situation is becoming graver. He is painfully hard, unable to see, unable to relieve himself, and the talented fingers of the Cat Burglar give his whole body the pleasure he never asked for.
"I could take care of your little…inconvenience," Nami coos, running her hands through his hair. "Just tell me what I want to know."
"Stop," he forces a labored breath. "Stop…What are you doing with me?"
"You don't understand? I am robbing you."
Yes, she is robbing him. Robbing him blind. She intends to take everything of his – his valuables, his money, his desires and even his dignity.
Besides, there're still some jewelry left on his body she has yet to remove – this exquisite pleasure of taking she leaves for the final part of her performance.
Little golden earrings in his ears (two for each ear) look frivolous and really out of place on a man with such an unpleasant reputation. She plays with the little golden loops, unclasping them one by one. Her prey gasps – there's an unusually sensitive spot just behind his ears.
These earrings will look good in the ear of her streetfighter friend Zoro, who surely would appreciate her gift.
Nami brings her face closer to his, puts her lips on his earlobe and gently pulls. The expression on Trafalgar's face is almost frantic, his fingers twitch, his body trembles.
One by one, little golden loops fall into her hand. When the third earring is removed from his ear, the Dark Dactor capitulates…
TBC
Next Chapter: payback is a bitch, Nami!