A Horror's guide to piracy
CH 12 - Victorgy
Auguste
Auguste, with his penchant for chaos, reveled in the moment, his crimson eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement. The cigar in Crocodile's hand seemed to burn a little brighter as he ground it between his fingers.
Auguste, with an arrogant smile, took a deliberate step forward, his white hair contrasting sharply with the shadows that clung to the corners of the room. "You seem surprised, Mister 0," he drawled, his voice carrying the weight of hidden machinations. "But let me enlighten you. Your carefully woven tapestry of influence and manipulation is unraveling, and the puppeteer pulling the strings is none other than yours truly."
Crocodile's eyes narrowed further, a subtle flicker of realization crossing his weathered features. "You?" he scoffed, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in his tone. "What does a young pirate gain from meddling in my affairs?"
Auguste chuckled, the sound reverberating through the room like the prelude to a malevolent symphony. "Oh, Mister 0, you underestimate the allure of chaos. Your plans, your grand ambitions, they are like a meticulously constructed house of cards. I merely found joy in giving it a gentle push."
The vampire's words hung in the air, and Crocodile, despite his composed exterior, felt the tendrils of doubt slithering into his thoughts. Auguste continued, each word a carefully placed dagger in the heart of Crocodile's pride. "The revolutionary army, Miss All Sunday's disappearance, the whispers of your impending coup – all orchestrated by the grand puppeteer, hidden in the shadows - the Great Sir Crocodile ! Who would have believed it ?"
Crocodile's grip tightened on the remnants of his cigar, the ember flickering as if mirroring the uncertainty within. The grand reveal unfolded like a dark tableau, and in the looming confrontation between vampire and puppet master, the casino's walls seemed to bear witness to the unraveling of schemes and the birth of a new, chaotic era.
A surge of unbridled rage flickered across Crocodile's typically composed countenance, as if a tempest had been unleashed within him. His voice, usually a smooth cascade of calculated words, rose to a crescendo as he bared the venomous core of his ambitions.
"Damn you, vampire!" he spat, the words laced with fury. "You think you can meddle in my affairs and escape unscathed? I will not be a pawn in your chaotic game!"
Auguste, undeterred, observed the outburst with a sadistic glint in his crimson eyes. "Oh, but Mister 0, it's not about escape. It's about reveling in the unraveling of your grand design. Tell me, how does it feel to watch your carefully constructed kingdom of sand crumble beneath the weight of your own arrogance?"
As if pushed to it by something else than his consciousness, Crocodile started rambling : "I own this Kingdom ! It was I who sowed the seeds of chaos to create the illusion of an impending crisis. The economic disparities, the whispers of rebellion, all carefully orchestrated to position myself as the savior, the strong and unwavering hand that would guide the kingdom through tumultuous times."
He paced the room, a puppet master reveling in the revelation of his grand performance. "The revolutionary army, my supposed enemies, were nothing but pawns in my elaborate game. By allowing them to rebel against my invisible influence, I aimed to rally the people behind me, a leader rising to quell the very chaos I engineered."
Auguste listened, his expression unchanged, as Crocodile laid bare the depths of his manipulation. The once-cool veneer of the puppet master cracked, revealing the calculating mind that sought dominion over the kingdom. "The king, a mere pawn in my hands, would fall, and I, the orchestrator of this grand charade, would ascend to the throne as the people's savior. A ruler hailed for bringing order to the chaos he himself manufactured. And you…you think you can take what is mine ?!"
Smoker
As the words echoed through the city streets, carried by the revolutionary's strategically placed speaker system, the citizens of Alabasta found themselves unwitting spectators to a clandestine drama that unfolded in the shadows. Auguste's voice, dripping with arrogance and malevolence, reverberated through the air, reaching every corner of the kingdom.
The ordinary people, going about their daily lives, were suddenly thrust into the midst of a revelation-laden exchange between the enigmatic vampire and the kingdom's puppet master, Crocodile. Indignation and disbelief painted the faces of the citizens as they listened to the shocking expose of political manipulations and power struggles that had been concealed beneath the veneer of royal authority.
In the bustling markets and quiet alleys, the air crackled with a collective sense of betrayal. Whispers of anger and frustration spread like wildfire among the populace. The revelation of Auguste's involvement in the kingdom's turmoil, coupled with Crocodile's grandiose plan to present himself as a savior, fueled the flames of dissent.
As the citizens grappled with the shocking truths that unfolded, the city became a cauldron of emotions. The once-stable foundations of trust in their leaders crumbled, replaced by a seething discontent that simmered beneath the surface. The unseen battle for the kingdom's fate had spilled into the open, and the people of Alabasta, unwittingly thrust into the heart of the struggle, now faced the daunting task of navigating a landscape tainted by deceit and intrigue.
Captain Smoker, stalwart in his pursuit of justice, stood in the heart of the city, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the citizens unaware of the machinations unfolding in the shadows. The revolutionary's speaker system, strategically placed across the city, broadcasted the revelation-laden exchange between Auguste and Crocodile. As the words reached Smoker's ears, anger surged within him like a tempest. The voice of Auguste, the orchestrator of chaos responsible for the death of his subordinate Tashigi, resonated with an infuriating arrogance. In the midst of the crowded city, Smoker's brows furrowed, his jaw clenched in frustration. The conflicting duties within him waged a silent war. His duty as a Marine demanded the arrest of Crocodile. His gaze, piercing and determined, scanned the cityscape as if searching for a resolution amid the chaos. The clash between duty and personal vendetta played out in the furrowed lines of his stern expression, and as the revelations echoed through the city, the captain grappled with the weight of his decisions in the shadowy dance of intrigue.
Auguste
In the dimly lit chamber, Auguste faced Crocodile, his words weaving a tapestry of deception and promises, all while knowing the unsuspecting citizens of Alabasta were eavesdropping on their clandestine conversation. His voice, honeyed and resonant, carried the weight of an orchestrated revelation.
"Crocodile, the time of your shadowy rule nears its end," Auguste declared, his words calculated to resonate with the unwitting listeners. "I stand before you not as a mere pirate but as the exiled prince of Luvneel, wronged by the very machinations you have set in motion."
As Crocodile, unfaithful to his usual composed demeanor, seethed with rage, Auguste continued his grandiloquent performance. "Citizens of Alabasta, hear me now as I reveal the twisted puppetry orchestrated by this false savior. I am no pirate, no criminal. Nay, I am the prince who seeks justice, the liberator who will unravel the chains that bind you."
With each carefully chosen word, Auguste wove a narrative that painted him as the champion of the oppressed, the hero poised to dethrone the tyrant. "I pledge to you, citizens, that the dawn of a new era is at hand. Together, we shall cast aside the puppet strings of Crocodile and usher in an age of true justice. No longer shall you be subject to the whims of this deceitful puppet master, for I, Auguste, shall lead you to freedom."
Crocodile's rage manifested as a violent tempest of sand, swirling and engulfing the hidden Den Den Mushi used to transmit the damning conversation. With a mere wave of his hand, the Warlord shattered the device, reducing it to nothing more than scattered grains in the desert breeze.
As the last remnants of the recorder were scattered by the winds, Crocodile reformed from the sand, his eyes ablaze with anger. His voice, laced with venom, resonated through the air, addressing Auguste with a promise of retribution. "You thought your grandiose proclamations could save you, Von Carstein ? Your demise will be slow and agonizing. I will strip you of your illusions and watch you crumble before my might "
In the eerie aftermath of Crocodile's threat, a hushed, feminine voice rose from the shadows, whispering cryptic incantations and strange murmurs. The air seemed to thicken with arcane energy, and the desert winds carried the ethereal echoes of a mysterious presence. Suddenly, three chains, concealed under the very carpet that adorned the room, stirred to life. They coiled and whirled with a mind of their own, each link pulsating with an otherworldly energy. In a surreal dance, the chains lashed out with supernatural precision, wrapping themselves around Crocodile's form. The Warlord, caught off guard, found himself ensnared in the malevolent grip of the enchanted chains.
As the chains tightened, Crocodile struggled against the mystical bonds, his logia powers rendered useless in the face of this dark sorcery. The woman's murmurs persisted, weaving a tapestry of magic that held the Warlord captive in a web of esoteric restraints.
Auguste's voice, laced with a sardonic tone, sliced through the tension. "Well, well, Mister Crocodile, seems like your intricate plans are unraveling faster than a poorly stitched seam. Your trusted Miss All Sunday turned out to be quite the serpent, slithering away from your grasp to join forces with a far more compelling cause. A betrayal fit for a tragedy, or maybe just poetic justice for someone who plays with the shadows."
Crocodile, ensnared by the unexpected chains, writhed against his bindings as Auguste continued his revelry. "You see, this little enchantment was a collaborative effort. Miss All Sunday graciously allowed me access to your inner sanctum, and together we orchestrated this delightful trap. A touch of insurance, if you will. Without it, your elusive logia powers would have turned this encounter into a rather one-sided affair. A twist of fate, or perhaps we just outplayed you at your own game."
As Auguste spoke, the chains held Crocodile captive. The temperature plummeted, and an unnatural stillness settled like a shroud. The feeble flicker of candlelight cast grotesque shadows, flickering and contorting with a malevolent life of their own. Crocodile, ensnared by the chains and surrounded by the intangible phantoms, felt a cold sweat trickle down his spine.
As the blind nun continued her unsettling chants, the air thickened with an oppressive energy. Whispers, indistinct and eerie, slithered through the darkness, sending unsettling tremors across Crocodile's psyche. The chains, now infused with a dark power, seemed to writhe with a spectral life, their links pulsating with an ominous glow.
From the unseen depths of the mystic sarcophagus, ethereal hands reached out, brushing against Crocodile's flesh with a clammy touch. Ghostly visages materialized, their features obscured by a veil of shadows, creating a disconcerting tableau of the afterlife's embrace.
The very stone beneath Crocodile seemed to absorb the essence of his fear, resonating with a sinister hum. The walls, adorned with esoteric symbols, seemed to warp and twist, distorting reality itself. In this surreal dance of horror, time lost its coherence, and the boundary between the corporeal and the supernatural blurred into an indistinct nightmare. As the lid of the sarcophagus closed with an ominous creak, sealing Crocodile within its eldritch embrace, the chants reached a crescendo. The chamber resonated with an otherworldly resonance, a cacophony of unseen forces converging to orchestrate a symphony of dread.
A few minutes later, Captain Smoker stormed into Crocodile's office. However, to his bewilderment, the room seemed devoid of life. There was no trace of the Warlord nor of Auguste, only an unsettling ambiance that clung to the air like an unseen specter. As he surveyed the scene, the only evidence of disturbance were deep scratches on the floor, the size of nails, remnants of an inexplicable occurrence. A chill ran down Smoker's spine, and an eerie feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Swearing under his breath, he vowed to get to the bottom of this mystery and make Auguste pay.
Perona
Perona's ghostly form floated beside Nico Robin as they stood in front of the ancient Poneglyph. The air was thick with the weight of history and forbidden knowledge. Perona's wide eyes, usually filled with a mischievous glint, now held a hint of awe as she gazed upon the inscriptions etched into the massive stone.
Nico Robin, her expression calm and collected, studied the Poneglyph with a deep sense of understanding. The glyphs held the secrets of the Void Century, a chapter erased from the annals of history. She traced the carvings with her fingers, silently deciphering the encoded language that only a select few could comprehend.
Robin's gaze shifted from the ancient script to Perona. A small smile played on her lips. "Meddling is our specialty, Perona. We're seekers of truth, even if it leads us to the darkest corners of history."
The ghost girl nodded, her pink hair gently swaying with the movement. "I guess you're right. But sometimes, the truth can be scarier than the mysteries."
Robin's eyes held a glint of understanding. "Indeed, Perona. But it's the fear that pushes us forward, unveiling the veiled and confronting the unknown."
Together, they stood before the enigmatic Poneglyph, two women bound by their insatiable curiosity and the relentless pursuit of the truths hidden within the currents of time.
As Nico Robin stood in contemplation before the ancient Poneglyph, an internal monologue resonated through her mind. The specter of Pluton, an ancient weapon capable of reshaping the world, loomed in her thoughts. The knowledge she held possessed the dual potential for both salvation and destruction. Yet, the prospect of divulging such formidable power to the Von Carstein crew, with their ambiguous ambitions, felt like a perilous misstep.
Her fingers delicately traced the intricate carvings, unraveling the tapestry of history. Imagining the crew harnessing Pluton for objectives darker than she could fathom, she recognized the weighty responsibility of safeguarding these ancient secrets. It became a burden she willingly embraced.
The forbidden knowledge's gravity pressed upon her shoulders, but in her decision, Robin discovered a profound solace. Recognizing that some truths are best kept veiled, especially from those who may not grasp the full consequences, she acknowledged her role in the ongoing dance of shadows. Her duty was to navigate its intricate steps, ensuring that the ancient mysteries remained shielded from falling into the wrong hands.
With a final, determined gaze at the Poneglyph, Nico Robin silently vowed to stand as the guardian of lost history, steadfast in her commitment to preserving the delicate balance of power and knowledge. She aimed to prevent manipulation by those seeking to disrupt the currents of fate
Vampiric boat, explicit content !
Disguised as a merchant boat, the vampiric vessel was once more a place of celebration. Robin was more at ease in the party than last time, where she risked her life to talk to Auguste.
The Vampire was a few feet away from her, fondling Nami's ass, while she was wearing a modified nun outfit : Nami's breasts were completely exposed, and there was an opening on her buttocks, as if her dress was ripped. The blonde vampire was whispering something in Nami's ear, and Nami was giggling and smiling.
Zombies Jazzman played a vivifiant music. An undead servant offered her a glass of champagne. Looking at her left, she saw two young members of Alabasta's nobility fucking like animals, like if the music had put them in a trance. She felt something touching her right leg, and looked down. It was Agathe, the white haired vampire, the most beautiful woman on the ship. She was looking at Robin with an hypnotizing smile. Agathe was wearing a red leather corset, exposing her cleavage. In her ass, she had a strange object, with esoteric symbols inscribed on it. The Vampire was wearing a pair of white stockings and red leather high heels, which made her legs even longer and sexier. The vampire was massaging Robin's leg.
"Not Tonight. Maybe never. Maybe..."
Agathe left Robin to go dance at the middle of the room. Dancing sensually, she took off her corset, revealing her pale, firm breasts. The white haired vampire was still dancing, and was now unbuckling her leather boots. She had a tattoo on her right leg, a strange symbol. The musicians played a frenzied tune, speeding up the tempo as she shimmied erotically, and all eyes were on her. Her gaze met Vivi's, beckoning the noble princess to join her. Agathe took off her red leather skirt, revealing her bare ass and shaved pussy, and turned around to face the crowd. She smiled, licking her lips. Vivi could not look away, and it was as if Agathe was only dancing for her, her naked body glistening with sweat. Vivi joined Agathe to dance. Her body was adorned by jewelry and golden piercings. The blue haired princess was wearing a long, transparent nightgown, the outline of her body barely visible in the shadows. Her nipples were erect and her pussy was glistening with arousal, and Agathe reached out to cup one of her breasts, caressing it with her long fingers. Vivi leaned in to kiss her, her tongue slipping between Agathe's lips and her hands wandering over her breasts. The musicians were still playing and the people dancing and looking, as Agathe's tongue darted into Vivi's mouth. Agathe pulled away from the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva between them. The white haired vampire smiled, her fangs visible. She placed her hand on the princess's back, pushing her down onto the floor. She got on top of Vivi, grinding against her. She leaned in to whisper something into her ear, and the princess nodded. She let herself relax and spread her legs wide open, exposing her dripping wet pussy.
"It's okay, it will be fun."
Agathe grabbed Vivi by the hips, positioning herself above the princess's pussy, and lowered herself down. She started moving her hips, slowly at first, but then faster. The sounds of the music filled the room as she rode Vivi, her hands grabbing the princess's breasts as she leaned in to kiss her. Agathe's eyes were closed and her body was moving in perfect sync with the music, and Vivi couldn't help but moan as her orgasm approached. She felt as if she were on the brink of ecstasy, but she didn't want it to stop.
"My friends!"
Auguste spoke at the moment of the princess's first orgasm. Surrounding him were the members of his crew, Robin, but also a hundred of the kingdom's most beautiful and vigorous citizens, whom the scent of incense arranged by Nami had...relaxed.
"Time to celebrate! We've defeated the arrogant Warlord Crocodile and saved your kingdom!"
The crowd cheered.
"It is time for payment"
In the center of the room, appeared a large stone altar. It was surrounded by torches that lit up the room with a dim light. On it, was Nami. She was naked, lying on her stomach. Her hands and legs were tied, and there was a blindfold covering her eyes. Her pussy was visible, and she was dripping wet. Agathe was standing next to her, her long fingers teasing the redhead's clit. The white-haired vampire bit her lip, enjoying the sensation of Nami's slick juices.
"She is ready."
Agathe removed her fingers from Nami's pussy and grabbed a bottle of oil. Auguste took of his toga. He was completely naked, and his cock was already hard and throbbing. Nami was still tied to the altar, unable to move. Agathe poured some of the oil onto her hands, and began rubbing it onto Auguste's cock. He groaned in pleasure, and Agathe stroked him harder. The oil made his cock glisten in the torchlight, and he looked at Nami's pussy hungrily. Murmuring an incantation, he looked at nami's chains, enjoying her links.
Nami was blindfolded, but she could feel the presence of Auguste approaching her. She could feel the coolness of the stone against her skin, and the warmth of the torchlight. She could hear the low chanting of the crowd, and the sound of footsteps. She tried to move, but her hands and legs were bound by the chains. She could smell the scent of incense, and her heart raced with anticipation. She felt something warm and hard pressing against her lips. It was Auguste's cock. He pressed it against her mouth, and she opened her mouth to take it inside. It was thick, and tasted of oil. She began to suck it, her tongue swirling around its head. Auguste moaned in pleasure, and his hips thrust forward. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pushed her head down, forcing her to deepthroat him. Nami gagged as his cock hit the back of her throat, but he didn't stop. He pulled out of her mouth, and she gasped for air. Then he pushed back in, and she continued sucking him, her tongue moving up and down his shaft. He grabbed her by the hair and fucked her face, his hips slamming into her again and again. She could feel his cock swelling in her mouth, and his body tensing up. He pulled out of her mouth just before he came, and she felt his cum splash against her face. She licked her lips, tasting the salty fluid. She wanted more.
Auguste stepped towards the altar, his cock still hard and glistening with Nami's saliva. Agathe did not remove the ropes that bound Nami to the altar. The crowd was silent, watching intently. Auguste stood behind Nami, and his hands grabbed her ass. He squeezed it, and she moaned in pleasure.
He began to fuck her pussy, his cock sliding easily inside her. She cried out. His cock was slick with oil, and he thrust in and out of her, his pace increasing. Nami's body writhed beneath him, and she begged for more. Then, in a scream of extasy in a guttural tongue, dark energy spread from her, latching onto the nobles present at the party.
