PAGE TWO: It's okay, you guys can request again!
ONE PIECE FAN-FOR-ALL
Or, free-for-all-fic, or fic free-for-all, or fic-for-all, whatever phrasing floats your boat.
PAGE ONE | PAGE TWO
Filled | Unfilled (BOTH posts updated to about half of page three, updated Sept 21, 11-something pm, GMT -5 ( Read more... )
He'd been here before, naked, panting and spread open amid a sea of flesh, oiled and stimulated and penetrated. He remembered dimly that he'd cared more about it the last time, but now the sickly sweetness of the air seemed to clog up his thought processes, and chased the hovering wrongness to the very edges of his brain. He reached out for the inviting, thrusting bodies eagerly, willingly parting his lips and his thighs even to the weird fat guy when he came down from his chair to join in.
***
He didn't understand it when his playmates dragged him out again and abandoned him. Outside the back gates, this time, his hat placed on his head with a parting comment about not giving him any extra excuses to return. But-- they'd been having so much fun! Okay, he'd whined before but he wasn't complaining now. He wasn't finished yet! He wanted to follow them back, but his legs wouldn't hold him up when he tried to stand, leaving him alone and desperate, tugging at himself with his shaking hands and unable to find relief. When finally some new friends found him, they hadn't even chance to get started before a mean woman with pink hair and a stupid hat marched up waving a pistol and made them all run off.
"Holy... shit," she said, standing with her hands on her hips glaring down at him. He didn't like her, but she was pretty and she'd chased everyone else away. Everyone except those other stupid hat guys behind her who hovered a way back offering disgusted looks, but they seemed even less fun. He started to climb up her ankles. "They did one hell of a number on you. Damn it, pirate boy, don't start that with me!" She clamped her hand across his lips and broke his fingers' fumbling grip on her uniform pants. She released him, but only to slap him across the face with a crack that sounded out like a whip. "Get a hold of yourself! He's still got your cook! "
Something in those words penetrated and the wrongness of the situation started to seep in. He reeled himself in, and thereafter kept tightly focused upon obediently following the instructions of her voice. The world blurred from a stumbling walk between two other silly-hats, through being poked and prodded by a doctor who continued the mystifying theme of all the people who'd been fascinated by his ass today. He was stabbed with needles and made to swallow pills, shoved into a shower where his hand shuddered as he tried to close his fingers on the temperature dial -- and as the cold water rinsed over him, the last overwhelming threads of his arousal faded, letting other thoughts start to creep back in. Finally, he dried off and redressed in another robe-thing, shrugging off the helping hands to do most of the work himself, albeit in a kind of slow motion. He was starting to feel a bit weird about the way everyone was guiding him around and talking to him so carefully.
Then, he was sitting back at the desk from before, poking his fingers into a hot drink of the strange, bitter local tea, feeling sick and still wondering exactly what an afro-dizzy-ack was, because he wasn't wearing an afro but he did feel dizzy, so obviously it had some truth to it somewhere. Officer Sparks slapped another clipboard with a form attached to it in front of him. "Sign that."
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"You were drugged up to the eyeballs by that pervert. Don't worry about it. The state will press charges this time, the recovered semen and the drug you tested positive for are solid evidence. I still wouldn't expect it to go anywhere, but you don't need to worry about the prosecution. We already have all the evidence we need. We don't need to mention you by name." She glanced down at the clipboard he slid across to her and nodded sharply. "As a bonus, our doctor says you didn't catch anything. Don't go back there again."
Luffy groaned and flopped back in the hard wooden chair, which would've tipped and fallen without the wall behind it. He watched the cracks on the ceiling. They were spinning gently. "I don't care about that stuff. I don't care if you mention my name. I gotta get Sanji back, and I think I need help. But Zoro's too hurt an'..." His stomach turned nastily. "I can't ask Usopp or Nami to go in there with me." Nami might be able to get Sanji to leave, but if girly-girly-bastard got Nami...
Officer Sparks strode around to set his chair back on four legs with a bump, throwing him forward across the desk. He slumped there, but craned his neck and blinked at her as she clopped around him on her steel-capped boots. "Leave it," she told him with a hard edge. "If your friend is too turned by the promise of physical pleasure to get out of there of his own free will for you, he's not worth this."
Luffy whined, "It's not like that." She didn't get it. "It's... it's Sanji. He's special!" He grit his teeth and tapped the side of his head meaningfully.
Officer Sparks said, "Huh."
Luffy flopped back again and hung his legs over the table top, which earned a glare of disapproval but no immediate reprisals. He felt so tired. And his head felt strange and his body felt strange, and after a whole lifetime without any sex except with his hand, he seemed to have had an awful lot of it in just one day whether he wanted to or not.
An idea flitted at the edges of his thoughts and he chased after it grimly until he'd sunk his mental fingers good and deep. It wasn't like it would be easy to come by another idea in his current state. "A girl could rescue Sanji--"
"I'm not going in there," Officer Sparks cut in.
"Of course not." Luffy wasn't going to ask it of Nami, and he wasn't going to risk his new friend either. He pinched his arm and drew the skin out of shape in a big stretchy flap. "I've got a devil fruit too. I'll be the girl. But I don't how to do that, so I do need your help." He looked up hopefully, and slowly took his newly-regained hat from his head and threw it onto the table.
"Get your feet down," she said. But she was watching him thoughtfully now. "...And all right, I give. Tell me what the hell that addled brain of yours is thinking."
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