Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better Part 2
Title: Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better (Part 2)
Author: Sinisterbug
Rating: NC 17 leik whoa!
Pairing: SanZo
Warnings: Cross dressing, BDSM, OOC, uke!Zoro (my very first, ironically)
Notes: Feedback is welcome, but please remember the criteria around which I wrote this piece. For example, don't criticize me for writing Sanji in a skirt - it was specifically requested.
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Also, this didn't have time to be properly edited (I didn't give her enough time, stupid me), but I do want to say that bronzetigress helped tremendously as a sounding board and a source of information. So any mistakes are completely my fault.
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Sanji woke up extra early the next morning. He showered, set some breakfast out for Zoro and left a note with instructions. He quickly headed for the market square, hoping that a city of this size would have the sort of shop he was looking for. Even with the swordsman sleeping, the ship ought to be fine.
****
When Zoro awoke, breakfast and mostly warm coffee was waiting for him in the kitchen, along with a note. The instructions were to remove all the empty crates and sacks from the kitchen and the store room and put them on deck, stack the remaining flour and sugar sacks (Zoro had been subjected to such manual labor before, so he knew exactly what the chef wanted), scrub the dining room table with the disinfectant he’d set out, and be ready for lunch by the time Sanji got back.
When Sanji arrived, he was carrying a large black bag with silver letters on it that Zoro didn’t have the time to read before the chef started barking orders. The carts with their supplies had arrived, and they spent the next three hours hauling bags of food, ammunition, wood and various other items, then organizing them all to Sanji’s verbal and Nami’s written instructions.
After they were done, Sanji made them a lunch of cold ham, buttered bread and salted tomatoes with the black tea Zoro pretended to hate so much. It was simple yet filling, and not too hot after all their heavy lifting. Then Sanji retrieved his bag and went to shower, instructing Zoro to ‘go nap or something’.
Well, that was easy enough. The lure of what Sanji might have had in the bag was not as tempting as an afternoon nap in the sun, especially after being a pack mule. But just as it seemed Zoro had finally fallen into a deep sleep, a foot nudged his ribs and he was woken.
“Your turn. And hurry it up.”
Zoro blinked himself awake and sat up, just in time to see Sanji carrying that same bag into the men’s bunk.
***
Sanji closed the door behind him, peeking out just to make sure Zoro followed his instructions. As soon as he saw the other man disappear into the bathroom, he removed his towel and dove into the bag, pulling out the best bargain he’d haggled in a long time.
Now, to be clear, yesterday had been the first time Sanji had ever worn a skirt, as well as the first time the idea had ever even occurred to him. And while the idea of dressing like a high school tramp did not appeal to him, he hadn’t particularly minded the feel of the skirt. It was a bit thrilling to see how hypnotized the swordsman had been by it. So he thought about it for a while, laying next to Zoro as they slept in the crow’s nest together, contemplating the possibilities.
What Sanji wanted was control. But his relationship… situation rather, with Zoro wasn’t formed that way. They fought each other, they surrendered to each other, they trusted each other. Sanji allowed Zoro to control him sometimes because the swordsman’s very nature was calm and dominant (when not being provoked by a certain ill-tempered chef). Sanji often had gaps in his self control - his calm, if you will - that left him open to such treatment from Zoro. He didn’t consider it a weakness, just a personality trait. If anything, he honestly felt he was more passionate about most things than Zoro.
But in the end he still craved control. Craved the ability to bring a man like Zoro to his knees and make him do whatever Sanji wanted. Somewhere deep down he knew that if he ever earnestly asked his lover to do something, he would do it. But there were all these irritating matters like pride and appearance… It would be far easier for someone like Zoro to be ordered around if he was in a situation where he had no choice. So today, Sanji was going to attempt to provide that for him, while also experiencing the thrill of holding something so important in his own hands and controlling it.
So he pulled out the soft ropes, the riding crop and other various devices that were embarrassingly cliché and put them aside. As ostentatious as he found these things to be, he was going to need them. They provided a visual stimulation that aided the mental aspect of this along tremendously (or so the shop keeper had assured him), and he certainly wasn’t going to risk himself or Zoro harm by using the crude ship ropes or something like that. Not that they couldn’t handle it, but this wasn’t supposed to be actual physical torture.
But he put those things aside and reached for the items he was the most excited about. Underneath a layer of white tissue paper was a dress - yes, a dress. At one point last night he had sworn to himself that Zoro would never get him in women’s clothing again. But then he’d seen this in the shop, and he knew it was meant for him. A slinky, black, double-knit pencil dress with a leather corset. The epitome of classy, with an appropriate dash of BDSM. Certainly not the trashy number that idiot marimo had him in yesterday. His legs deserved far better than that. He pulled out the gladiator stilettos the shop keeper had sold him, despite Sanji’s suspicions that the chef would not be able to pull those off.
He slipped on the dress - it fit just as well as it had in the store, making his otherwise slim hips appear slightly rounder - and put the shoes on, taking a few extra minutes to figure out all the extra straps. Once he had them on and he looked in the mirror, he didn’t want to take them off. Yeah, pain was now shooting up from his calves all the up his spine but… damn. That shop keep had been right.
He swayed a bit, wondering if that was from the shoes or from the realization of just how bizarre this all was. But he’d worn a skirt yesterday, no harm in wearing a dress today, he supposed. He straightened his hair a bit and scrutinized himself in the mirror. He had a moment of hesitation - Zoro might freak when he saw him. And even if he didn’t lose it from the dress, he was bound to have some hesitation about Sanji’s demands. He knew, though, the best approach would be to remain calm, firm and serious. That was the only way the swordsman would take him seriously.
He made a few practice strides across the room - it wouldn’t do to take a dive onto his face while trying to convince Zoro to let him tie the man up.
***
Zoro sighed, a bit hesitant for the first time about what Sanji had in store. The one thing he did know was that the blond man probably wanted a bit of revenge. He stood up straight and opened the bathroom door. He could take whatever Sanji threw at him like a man.
He walked out to the main mast when he heard someone clearing their throat.
The swordsman turned around. His throat went dry.
Sanji - yes, that was Sanji - was sitting in a chair that had been placed in front of the mast, his legs crossed elegantly and his bare arms folded over his black, leather clad chest.
Zoro blinked, looking again, all the way from his heel-clad feet, up to his pale neck which, somehow, appeared that much more inviting swimming above all black.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” Sanji said, his voice not quite low, but very sharp. He pointed at Zoro with one foot. “You’re going to do your very best to do everything I tell you to do. You will not speak unless I tell you to. You will not come unless I tell you to come. You will not touch me unless I tell you to touch me. If you make a mistake or your performance does not satisfy me, I will punish you. And at some point, I’m going to fuck you. Do you understand?”
Instead of trying to understand or form a reasonable argument, Zoro’s brain wisely shut down. He nodded.
“Good boy,” Sanji reached for the riding crop and stood up. “But from now on, if I ask you a question, you’ll answer with words. Do you understand me?” He stepped close to Zoro, running the soft tip of the crop slowly over the swordsman’s shoulder.
“Yes,” he rasped.
“Good. It’s up to you how painful this is, or isn’t. Do you know what a safe word is?”
“Yes.”
“Yours is ‘mellorine’. Now take off your towel and place it over the railing.”
The tiny, auto-pilot section of Zoro’s brain might have whispered from a thousand miles away that anyone looking in this direction with a set of binoculars from shore or, perhaps, squinted, would be able to see perfectly well what they were doing. And certainly if any of their crewmates showed up unannounced, they’d be fucked. But something in Sanji’s eyes told him it would be very unwise to argue, so he took off his towel and placed it on the railing.
“Get on your knees.”
Zoro sank to his knees faster than he could ever remember himself doing before. Sanji came towards him, and his hands twitched for those hips that looked so fucking good underneath the leather corset. But he remembered ‘no touching’, and clenched his fists instead.
“I seem to recall yesterday, someone holding my head still while they fucked my face,” he said slowly, lifting Zoro’s chin. “Do you remember that?”
Suddenly Zoro felt very far away as his face burned red. “Yes.”
“Who did that to me?”
“I did.”
Sanji ran his long, skilled fingers over one tanned cheek. “That’s not polite, Marimo-kun.”
He brought the crop up and smacked it across Zoro’s other cheek. Not hard - it would take a lot of force to make a riding crop hurt, anyway. But the sound it made was alarming, and Sanji took note of how the swordsman’s shoulder muscles tensed.
He grabbed Zoro’s chin again and forced him to look up. “Are you sorry?”
No, Zoro thought, but said, “Yes.”
Sanji leaned down and gently kissed Zoro on the lips. He stood back up and said, “Hold out your wrists.”
Zoro did so as Sanji retrieved a rope from beside the chair. He quickly, and expertly (Zoro noted), tied the swordsman’s wrists together. It was a firm job, and Zoro imagined he might have some trouble if he wanted to get out of it.
“Stand up and walk over to the mast.”
Zoro did so, now standing to the right and slightly behind the chair Sanji had previously been occupying.
“Face west, and for those directionally challenged moss-heads among us, that is this way,” Sanji pointed the crop to the right. “Now get on your knees.”
This forced Zoro to kneel with his back to the mast, facing the horizon.
“Raise your arms.”
Zoro raised his arms, wondering what this was leading to, exactly. Sanji stepped forward and pulled the swordsman’s arms further up and back, hooking the rope that had bound his hands to something on the mast. He applied pressure, but he couldn’t bring his arms down.
“As much as I appreciate apologies, somehow I feel you haven’t quite learned your lesson,” Sanji’s voice was silk as he lazily caressed the swordsman’s scar with the leather device. “I want you to suck my cock, and woe betide if I am displeased.”
Truth be told, despite the dress looking damn hot, it was far more constricting than the skirt Zoro had Sanji wearing the night before. The chef slowly inched the dress up, watching as the swordsman’s eyes followed eagerly. His cock sprang forth, finally freed from its previously uncomfortable confines. He used one hand to hold the dress up and the other to cup the back of Zoro’s head.
The swordsman wasted no time and ran his tongue up the rigid length before wrapping his lips around the head. But before he could do anything more, he was choking as Sanji thrust forward and pulled his head down at the same time, forcing his cock down Zoro’s throat.
Oh, Sanji thought, that felt good in so many ways. Now he could see why Zoro’s first inclination was to hump his face like a gorilla, but he was also satisfied to hear the little choke for air. Served the bastard right - he’d done it to Sanji countless times, and Sanji had never retaliated (well, unless you counted kicking him through a wall, or yanking on his testicles, or many other acts of violence). But once was enough. He stilled long enough to let the swordsman recover, then slowly buried his cock in that warm, wet heat, just as much as he knew Zoro could take without choking him. Then he slid back out, shuddering slightly as the swordsman sucked hard on his head, then back in again, picking up a slow, pleasurable rhythm.
Zoro’s eyes watered from the initial choke, which, he supposed, he may have deserved. He almost wished Sanji would do it again, just to feel his cock throb in his mouth like that. He took the blond haired man in his mouth as far as he could, swirling his tongue around the head and moving faster as the pressure of Sanji’s hand on his neck got tighter.
Zoro had never given Sanji a blow job like this before - it was incredible. He could easily lose himself in this; just thrusting his cock deep in Zoro’s mouth over and over again.
He hissed as he felt the tension inside of him building. “Nnh…close your eyes…”
Zoro did as he was told, but he found himself frowning for some reason. He felt Sanji’s member pulse in his mouth and the pace increased slight before the chef pulled out, coming all over the powerful swordsman’s face.
Sanji used one hand to steady himself on the mast, lest he collapse right there. He squeezed his cock, encouraging the last of his essence to come forward, rubbing the collected essence on Zoro’s lips, as the swordsman had done to Sanji the day before.
“Don’t move, keep your eyes closed,” he managed to say without sounding out of breath.
The chef stepped back, regaining his balance and composure as his veins still sang with the pleasure of the orgasm. He pulled the dress back down and retrieved a rag from his pile of goodies by the chair. He gently wiped the cum from Zoro’s face.
He stepped back again, shook his head and adopted an unaffected countenance.
“Open your eyes.”
From the look on his face, Zoro couldn’t tell if Sanji had been pleased by his performance or not, but he still looked so damn good in that dress.
“Are you going to shove your dick down my throat like that again?”
“No,” Zoro said, his throat now parched.
“Lesson learned. Now, can you think of anything else about yesterday that I might have disapproved of?”
Zoro’s first answer was to mention the skirt, but logic followed that since his lover was now wearing a dress, that probably wasn’t something that bothered him too much. He’d been abnormally snarky and perverted yesterday, but he didn’t think Sanji was going to fault him for that, given their current activity.
“Think unhygienic substance on my brand new dining room table.”
“I… made you come on the table.”
“Do you think you deserve to be punished for that?” Sanji twirled the riding crop.
Zoro rather hoped he deserved to be punished for that. Ah - a little light went on in his head.
So that was how this worked.
He summoned up his best regretful look and muttered, “…Yes.”
Sanji raised a dubious eyebrow, then lowered his gaze to the swordsman’s nether regions. He placed the soft leather top of the riding crop on the head of Zoro’s erection. He tapped it gently and the swordsman hissed.
“Was that a complaint?” Sanji snapped.
“No,” Zoro exhaled. It hadn’t hurt, but he had no idea if Sanji was going to do it again, and if he was going to do it harder. Frankly it scared the shit out of him.
“I didn’t think so.” Sanji made the little tap one more time before moving out of Zoro’s line of vision.
As much as Sanji loved the shoes, they had to come off. His toes had lost feeling in them shortly after he put them on and it was causing him to have difficulty balancing. Mentally saluting women like Robin-chwan and Nami-swan who were able to run at full speed in these things, he quickly unstrapped them and stepped barefoot onto the wood floor.
Not that it mattered anyway, Zoro wouldn’t be seeing much more of him after this point. He picked up the silk blindfold and walked slowly back to the other side of the mast.
“Being able to see your punishment coming only makes it easier, I feel,” the chef leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Zoro’s forehead before wrapping the blind fold over his eyes, tying it securely.
Zoro took a deep breath. He felt Sanji lift his hands off the hook of the mast, gently caressing them.
“Stay on your knees and turn around.”
The swordsman did so, and Sanji replaced his bound hands back on the hook. Zoro could feel the breeze against his bare ass and, for the first time in a long time, he felt uncomfortably vulnerable. He was naked, tied up, he couldn’t see and he was completely exposed to the man behind him. The swordsman shivered as he felt the riding crop slide down his spine, over the cleft of his ass, slipping underneath over his balls. Gods, if Sanji did that there his dick would probably fall off, he was sure of it.
But the riding crop slid gently back up and over each cheek, back up his spine and up one arm, then down the other. It would have felt good, and it did, but Zoro kept wondering when Sanji would reach back and bring that thing down with more force, and where.
The chef licked his hips, his mouth very dry at the sight before him. He’d never imagined Zoro would look this good under his mercy. The lines of his back stretched taught, the black of the blindfold against his green hair, his leg spread slightly as the riding crop roamed his body.
He got on his knees just behind the swordsman, putting the riding crop down so that both his hands would be free. He used his knees to spread Zoro’s legs farther apart and placed his hands on the swordsman’s hips, gently massaging.
Zoro stiffened at the contact, but slowly relaxed. His body, anyway. Mentally he was alert and waiting for Sanji’s intentions to manifest themselves.
The chef ran his hands up the thick cords of muscles on Zoro’s back, firmly digging his thumbs in the stiff places, and smoothing over the rest while he placed hot, wet kisses on the swordsman’s neck. He slowly reached around, ghosting light touches just above the swordsman’s pelvis, slowly tracing the firm six pack up to his pectorals, then down the scar that ripped across his chest, grinning when Zoro shivered slightly.
“You are allowed to beg me and you are allowed to make noises. Nothing else,” he murmured in the green haired man’s ear as he wrapped his long fingers around Zoro’s hard length. “I will be very unhappy if you come without my permission. Do you understand?”
Zoro’s stomach muscles tensed and he tried to give a verbal ‘yes’, but it came out too breathy to form an actual word. He nodded his head, hoping he wouldn’t be punished for being unable to speak.
He could feel Sanji smile against his neck and was relieved when hot breath washed over his ear, “Good boy.”
Sanji’s other hand crept around to cup Zoro’s balls gently.
“Did you know how susceptible the testicles are to erotic stimulation?” Sanji asked, pumping Zoro’s length once. His hot breath came in waves over Zoro’s neck and ear as he spoke low. “Every part is a potential erogenous zone. For example, just by warming them in my hand as I have and repeatedly gripping them gently, like this,” the blond haired man gently pumped Zoro’s scrotum several times, “it will not only feel good, but also increase your blood flow, causing engorgement and increased sensitivity to your,” Sanji pumped the swordsman’s length again, “cock.”
Zoro’s fists were probably white from fisting them so hard. He breathed steadily through his nose, trying to ignore the warming pleasure just those few actions had caused to spread throughout his entire body. He could do this, he had control of his body. Far more control over it than this. But even as he told himself that, precum had begun weeping from his member.
“The best way,” Sanji continued, taking note of the pre-cum, “is to stimulate them directly, though, is like this.” He began intermittently making rolling movements with his fingers, and gently gripping them.
“Ha…”
It was more a heavy sigh than a whimper, but Sanji was pleased with the noise. Zoro’s breathing had increased rapidly and the swordsman probably didn’t even realize it, but his hips were making tiny jerking movements. The chef’s other hand remained still at the base of Zoro’s length, so he gave it another firm stroke.
“Unh…”
“Did you know a part of your penis is actually hidden underneath?” Sanji carefully reached further down, slightly lifting the sack and placed his fingers at the area below, beginning a sharp, palpitating massage.
Zoro’s stomach almost turned, but it quickly turned to intense shots of pleasure before it became too unpleasant. He arched his back, spreading his knees further apart, hoping for some sort of movement or friction and hoping to a god he didn’t believe in that Sanji didn’t touch his dick again, because he was definitely going to come if he did.
“You look a little frustrated, marimo,” Sanji said softly, nuzzling the green hair that provoked the nickname. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes.” Zoro ground out, trying not to sound breathless.
Sanji sensed the resistance and he didn’t like it. He could correct that, however. He slid the hand wrapped around Zoro’s length up to the wet tip, swirling his thumb just around the ring of the head, occasionally swiping over the sensitive eye, all while continuing his assault further down.
“You don’t sound too much like you want to come. In fact, you sound rather bored with all this. Maybe I should just leave you here.”
Zoro’s thighs quivered with strain. He knew that tone of voice, and it never meant that Sanji was particularly pleased. What did the chef want him to do? He was spending every ounce of concentration to keep himself from coming, like he’d been ordered to do. He hadn’t spoken out of turn. What was he supposed to do, beg?
Ah, he thought. Bingo. But that… He wasn’t even familiar with words used to beg. But he didn’t have all day to come up with something, either.
“Ah… um… no, I… please-”
He had to shut his mind down that much more, so that he couldn’t register what he was saying. If he did, he’d probably lose it.
“Please what?”
“I… need to come… please…”
Sanji paused for a moment before smirking. “No.” Feeling deliciously cruel, he began stroking Zoro’s cock rapidly.
Fuck. Zoro’s bound hands clawed at the wood of the mast and he jerked forward, biting his lip as hard as he could. “No I can’t -don’t- please SANJI I’m gonna FUCK-”
“You’re not going to come Zoro, because I told you not to,” the blond haired man increased the pace. “If you come I’ll have to punish you even more. Now beg me.”
“Please Sanji I can’t,” Zoro gasped for breath, he could barely feel the sting where he’d cut his lip from biting it. “I need to come, fuck PLEASE just let me come ah, ah, no, ah fuck fuck-”
Sanji quickly but gently pulled Zoro’s balls down, wrapping his other hand tightly around the base of his cock.
“FUCK!” Zoro cursed, slumping against the mast. His erection throbbed badly and his balls felt like they were going to fall off. He felt like he was reeling behind the darkness of his blind fold.
Sanji released the other man’s length and balls and began rubbing soothingly at Zoro’s back. “You did very good,” he lovingly kissed the swordsman’s neck. “I’m very pleased Zoro.”
But Sanji was far from done, and he almost felt bad for the next part. Almost.
“I’m going to reward you for your good behavior,” he patted gently at Zoro’s side and crawled back a bit, lifting Zoro’s hips so that he rested on his knees again. “I thought that since you enjoyed doing this so much to me, I should return the favor.”
Sanji inched back a bit more and lifted his dress up, giving his own hardening length a few good strokes just to relieve some tension. Hearing Zoro beg like that… He would never be short on masturbating material again.
The blond haired man firmly kneaded Zoro’s ass before spreading his cheeks apart.
The swordsman wondered briefly if the chef had gone insane and had decided to fuck him without lube, when he felt something very warm and wet slide down the cleft of his ass. That was definitely not a finger… or a dick.
Shock dashed through his entire body and his first instinct was to try and pull away, but Sanji held his hips firm. Zoro dropped his head and took several deep breaths, shuddering as he felt the tongue lap at his opening and the surrounding area, down past his perineum to tease momentarily at his balls before returning to torture at that most sensitive area.
No wonder Sanji had such a problem with this, and a moment of something that might have resembled remorse floated through Zoro’s mind. That was until he suddenly groaned and melted into the touch. Suddenly he was paying very close attention to the rough texture of Sanji’s tongue, and how it was shooting little arrows of pleasure straight to his loins.
Maybe if Sanji would learn to sit still long enough to get to this point, he’d learn to like it. Everything was nerve endings and little hot shocks, and yeah, he thought, it was almost impossible to sit still for this.
Sanji raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t stop. Maybe next time he’d wait a few more minutes before he sent the marimo through a wall. And damn it, this was actually supposed to be revenge (despite calling it a reward), but that wasn’t going to work if the asshole liked it.
He sat up and Zoro slumped forward again, breathing heavily.
Sanji admired the scene before him for a moment, lifting the dress up to slowly stroke himself a few times. He walked over the chair to grab the last thing - the lube.
He returned, almost not wanting to move Zoro from the position he was in - ever again. But the swordsman’s knees had probably taken a bit of abuse on the hard wood, and his arms could probably use some circulation. He pulled Zoro’s bound hands up and over the hook, gently lowering them and crouching down to massage at the shoulders.
“Are they numb?”
“No.”
“Stand up, take two steps back and put your hands on the mast. If you move them from there even once, I’ll fit you with a cock ring for the rest of the night.”
That wasn’t an empty threat, either. Sanji had picked it up at the shop, intending to use it on the swordsman from the beginning. But after thinking about it, Sanji decided that it negated the idea of forcing Zoro to control his bodily reactions, which he thought would be far more challenging to his lover than just automatic denial of pleasure.
With Zoro conveniently bent over for him so obediently, Sanji picked up the riding crop, just for an extra bit of fun. Without warning, he laid a hard smack to the swordsman’s left cheek.
Zoro flinched out of surprise, but he could definitely feel the small sting this time. It was negligible, but damn if he didn’t want to break that fucking little stick in half and throw it into the ocean where Sanji would never find it again. Shitty little thing made him so fucking jumpy.
It came down again with a loud thwack against his right cheek, then his left again, then both of his thighs. Each time some part of Zoro’s body flinched - his knees, his head, or, Sanji delighted, his rear. But he’d had enough fun, finally tossing the little device back over by the chair and coming forward to run his hands apologetically over the little red welts he created.
“Spread your legs further,” he ordered, pouring a generous amount of lube in his hand and spreading it over his fingers. As much as he’d like to just prep a little and slam into that tightness, Zoro rarely ever bottomed, and Zoro with a sore ass was a very unmanageable, cranky Zoro.
He gently probed the puckered entrance, using two fingers and pushing into the hot tightness.
The swordsman’s only reaction was a slight drop of his head. His cock was ready to explode and all his concentration was required to keep from making a mistake.
Sanji snorted, deciding to add a third finger if Zoro was going to be like that.
This time the green haired man hissed, his muscles clenching around the chef’s fingers.
“Relax, baby,” he rubbed at the small of the swordsman’s back and plunged his fingers deeper in, caressing Zoro’s inner walls.
Zoro squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold and forced himself to relax.
“I’m going to fuck you now, so listen closely. Do not move your hands from the mast and do not come until I give you permission,” he reiterated. “I’ll fuck you how I want, for as long as I want. You may beg, though it probably won’t do you any good. And I do love to hear those sounds you make, so feel free to speak up. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Sanji removed his fingers and hiked the dress up, applying more lube to his member. He grabbed Zoro’s hip with one hand and wove his fingers through the swordsman’s hair with the other, yanking his head up before placing his cock at Zoro’s entrance, pressing forward slowly. He went forward gently until his head was buried in that delicious heat. Then he thrust forward once with more force, then back out just a tiny fraction, and in again hard, now completely buried to the hilt.
Zoro’s neck strained against the pull and he swallowed hard, forcing his muscles to surrender to the harsh invasion. At least now his erection had lessened just a bit and wasn’t threatening to release all over the mast (which was the inevitable result, and hopefully Sanji couldn’t find fault with that). But then Sanji’s warm tongue was at his ear, sucking on his earlobe and probing inside, sliding down his neck to that tiny little juncture that always miraculously made him weak in the knees.
He braced himself for more rough treatment, but instead the chef slid slowly out of him, dragging the hand that had been at the swordsman’s hip slowly up his stomach to toy with a nipple. Sanji rubbed at the sensitive piece of flesh and placed open mouthed kisses on his neck as he leisurely plunged back into Zoro’s velvet depths.
“Unnnh,” the green haired man moaned, much to Sanji’s inner glee. He released his hold on Zoro’s hair, joining his other hand at Zoro’s unattended nipple, pinching both hard before running down the line of his stomach, down to his thighs and dragging his fingers back up, continuing his slow, thorough fuck.
“Do you like that?” Sanji whispered.
“Yesss,” Zoro hissed, so Sanji did it again, repeating all the motions, but this time dragging his nails firmly over his skin on the way back up, leaving red trails in their wake. This elicited several small, panting sounds from his lover and Sanji couldn’t get enough. He reached down and stroked Zoro’s hardness slowly, in time with his thrusts.
The sense of urgency was slowly building again, and Zoro arched his back painfully, clinging to the mast. “Sanji…”
Sanji ignored him, instead looking down to watch as his cock slid slowly in and out of the other man. It was mesmerizing and he felt an intense throb pulse from his balls to the top of his member. Sweat was starting to build on Zoro’s skin and Sanji licked at it. He wondered when Zoro would break, because he could definitely keep this up for quite a while.
But Zoro’s patience was thread-like at this point, however, and it only took another pump of Sanji’s skilled hand to make it snap.
“S-Sanji…” Zoro wasn’t sure how to ask for it, or if he even could. But he couldn’t come like this, even if he wanted to. The pace was too slow, and Sanji was purposefully squeezing the base of his cock every few minutes to keep him from coming.
“Hm?” Sanji said lazily, nuzzling the nape of the swordsman’s neck.
“I… please…”
“If you want something, you have to ask for it properly.”
Zoro growled in frustration, immediately regretting it. Sanji’s hand was back in his hair in an instant, yanking his head back and making his neck strain painfully.
“What was that?”
“No I… please-”
“Even if I wanted to oblige your request, I couldn’t, Zoro, because you won’t tell me what it is. Stop being so pathetic and just tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me harder.”
“I didn’t quite hear that, marimo, speak up.”
“Fuck me harder god damn it! I need to come and I need you to fuck me harder! Please!”
Sanji straightened up, grasping Zoro’s hips firmly with both hands. “Like this?” He slammed forward roughly and Zoro let out a strangled yelp. He slid out slowly, watching as his slick member left the hot tightness, almost out to the tip. He paused for a moment before slamming back in again with powerful force. “Is that how you want it?”
“No- I mean- yes but-”
Slam.
“What do you mean? I’m doing what you want, aren’t I? What else do you want?” Sanji asked calmly.
Slam.
“Faster!” Zoro cried out again, gripping the mast and trying to keep his control. Every time Sanji slammed forward like that his balls tightened and his cock leaked, but it was still too slow, and each time he was yanked back from his orgasm.
“If I go any faster, you’ll come without my permission.”
“Please…”
“Please what?”
“Let me come, please, fuck please, let me come…”
That might have been a sob. Sanji smirked. “Not yet, but I think I’ll speed things up.”
Sanji tightened his hold on Zoro’s hips (he’d be surprised if they weren’t bruised by tomorrow) and impaled him without mercy, fucking him fast and hard.
“No Sanji fuck, ah, please, please let me come-”
“Do you want to come?” Sanji panted.
“Yes!”
Sanji closed his eyes and groaned as his loins tightened then released, and his orgasm hit him like a flash flood. “Come for me,” he managed to rasp out, spilling himself deep inside the other man.
Zoro’s back went rigid as Sanji thrust into him once more and his orgasm crashed through him. He came, stream after stream, his cock bobbing with the force of it as he was milked dry. His lungs heaved as he fought to keep himself on his feet, leaning heavily into the mast which he’d just completely marked.
Sanji’s entire body slumped, but he managed to support his own weight. He gently removed himself from Zoro and quickly (wobbling slightly as he did so) turned the swordsman around, untying the bonds. He frowned as he saw the unhappy red and purple lines they had created, and he rubbed them apologetically. So much for soft ropes.
Zoro flexed his hands as they were untied and dutifully put them down at his sides, not reaching out for Sanji as he might have otherwise done. Then his blind fold was removed and the chef was in his arms, knocking them both to the floor.
Sanji paused only for a moment, searching Zoro’s eyes before quickly covering his mouth with his own. The swordsman took this as permission and eagerly wrapped his arms around the blond haired man.
When they parted, Zoro asked, “You’re keeping the dress, right?”
“Hell yes, but I’m throwing out that trashy skirt.”
Zoro frowned. He liked that skirt. It was easy to lift and well, maybe he’d just have to hide it somewhere. Then an idea came to him. “Then can I throw out that fucking slappy thing?”
“Slappy thing?”
Zoro turned over on his stomach and reached for the riding crop. He waved it at Sanji. “This little fucker.”
Sanji snatched it, looking scandalized. “Fuck no. I love this thing.”
“Then I’m keeping the skirt.”
*********
So, some thoughts. This was the first time I've ever written an uke Zoro, and it was pretty extreme. I don't know if its good or even readable, so I'll let you guys decide. ^^;; It's crack, what can I say?
Also, for those interested, the dress he's wearing? Here. And my apologies for any mistakes in the BDSM parts - I really only know what little internet research I did and the valuable bits of input that bronzetigress gave me.
Author: Sinisterbug
Rating: NC 17 leik whoa!
Pairing: SanZo
Warnings: Cross dressing, BDSM, OOC, uke!Zoro (my very first, ironically)
Notes: Feedback is welcome, but please remember the criteria around which I wrote this piece. For example, don't criticize me for writing Sanji in a skirt - it was specifically requested.
******
Also, this didn't have time to be properly edited (I didn't give her enough time, stupid me), but I do want to say that bronzetigress helped tremendously as a sounding board and a source of information. So any mistakes are completely my fault.
******
Sanji woke up extra early the next morning. He showered, set some breakfast out for Zoro and left a note with instructions. He quickly headed for the market square, hoping that a city of this size would have the sort of shop he was looking for. Even with the swordsman sleeping, the ship ought to be fine.
****
When Zoro awoke, breakfast and mostly warm coffee was waiting for him in the kitchen, along with a note. The instructions were to remove all the empty crates and sacks from the kitchen and the store room and put them on deck, stack the remaining flour and sugar sacks (Zoro had been subjected to such manual labor before, so he knew exactly what the chef wanted), scrub the dining room table with the disinfectant he’d set out, and be ready for lunch by the time Sanji got back.
When Sanji arrived, he was carrying a large black bag with silver letters on it that Zoro didn’t have the time to read before the chef started barking orders. The carts with their supplies had arrived, and they spent the next three hours hauling bags of food, ammunition, wood and various other items, then organizing them all to Sanji’s verbal and Nami’s written instructions.
After they were done, Sanji made them a lunch of cold ham, buttered bread and salted tomatoes with the black tea Zoro pretended to hate so much. It was simple yet filling, and not too hot after all their heavy lifting. Then Sanji retrieved his bag and went to shower, instructing Zoro to ‘go nap or something’.
Well, that was easy enough. The lure of what Sanji might have had in the bag was not as tempting as an afternoon nap in the sun, especially after being a pack mule. But just as it seemed Zoro had finally fallen into a deep sleep, a foot nudged his ribs and he was woken.
“Your turn. And hurry it up.”
Zoro blinked himself awake and sat up, just in time to see Sanji carrying that same bag into the men’s bunk.
***
Sanji closed the door behind him, peeking out just to make sure Zoro followed his instructions. As soon as he saw the other man disappear into the bathroom, he removed his towel and dove into the bag, pulling out the best bargain he’d haggled in a long time.
Now, to be clear, yesterday had been the first time Sanji had ever worn a skirt, as well as the first time the idea had ever even occurred to him. And while the idea of dressing like a high school tramp did not appeal to him, he hadn’t particularly minded the feel of the skirt. It was a bit thrilling to see how hypnotized the swordsman had been by it. So he thought about it for a while, laying next to Zoro as they slept in the crow’s nest together, contemplating the possibilities.
What Sanji wanted was control. But his relationship… situation rather, with Zoro wasn’t formed that way. They fought each other, they surrendered to each other, they trusted each other. Sanji allowed Zoro to control him sometimes because the swordsman’s very nature was calm and dominant (when not being provoked by a certain ill-tempered chef). Sanji often had gaps in his self control - his calm, if you will - that left him open to such treatment from Zoro. He didn’t consider it a weakness, just a personality trait. If anything, he honestly felt he was more passionate about most things than Zoro.
But in the end he still craved control. Craved the ability to bring a man like Zoro to his knees and make him do whatever Sanji wanted. Somewhere deep down he knew that if he ever earnestly asked his lover to do something, he would do it. But there were all these irritating matters like pride and appearance… It would be far easier for someone like Zoro to be ordered around if he was in a situation where he had no choice. So today, Sanji was going to attempt to provide that for him, while also experiencing the thrill of holding something so important in his own hands and controlling it.
So he pulled out the soft ropes, the riding crop and other various devices that were embarrassingly cliché and put them aside. As ostentatious as he found these things to be, he was going to need them. They provided a visual stimulation that aided the mental aspect of this along tremendously (or so the shop keeper had assured him), and he certainly wasn’t going to risk himself or Zoro harm by using the crude ship ropes or something like that. Not that they couldn’t handle it, but this wasn’t supposed to be actual physical torture.
But he put those things aside and reached for the items he was the most excited about. Underneath a layer of white tissue paper was a dress - yes, a dress. At one point last night he had sworn to himself that Zoro would never get him in women’s clothing again. But then he’d seen this in the shop, and he knew it was meant for him. A slinky, black, double-knit pencil dress with a leather corset. The epitome of classy, with an appropriate dash of BDSM. Certainly not the trashy number that idiot marimo had him in yesterday. His legs deserved far better than that. He pulled out the gladiator stilettos the shop keeper had sold him, despite Sanji’s suspicions that the chef would not be able to pull those off.
He slipped on the dress - it fit just as well as it had in the store, making his otherwise slim hips appear slightly rounder - and put the shoes on, taking a few extra minutes to figure out all the extra straps. Once he had them on and he looked in the mirror, he didn’t want to take them off. Yeah, pain was now shooting up from his calves all the up his spine but… damn. That shop keep had been right.
He swayed a bit, wondering if that was from the shoes or from the realization of just how bizarre this all was. But he’d worn a skirt yesterday, no harm in wearing a dress today, he supposed. He straightened his hair a bit and scrutinized himself in the mirror. He had a moment of hesitation - Zoro might freak when he saw him. And even if he didn’t lose it from the dress, he was bound to have some hesitation about Sanji’s demands. He knew, though, the best approach would be to remain calm, firm and serious. That was the only way the swordsman would take him seriously.
He made a few practice strides across the room - it wouldn’t do to take a dive onto his face while trying to convince Zoro to let him tie the man up.
***
Zoro sighed, a bit hesitant for the first time about what Sanji had in store. The one thing he did know was that the blond man probably wanted a bit of revenge. He stood up straight and opened the bathroom door. He could take whatever Sanji threw at him like a man.
He walked out to the main mast when he heard someone clearing their throat.
The swordsman turned around. His throat went dry.
Sanji - yes, that was Sanji - was sitting in a chair that had been placed in front of the mast, his legs crossed elegantly and his bare arms folded over his black, leather clad chest.
Zoro blinked, looking again, all the way from his heel-clad feet, up to his pale neck which, somehow, appeared that much more inviting swimming above all black.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” Sanji said, his voice not quite low, but very sharp. He pointed at Zoro with one foot. “You’re going to do your very best to do everything I tell you to do. You will not speak unless I tell you to. You will not come unless I tell you to come. You will not touch me unless I tell you to touch me. If you make a mistake or your performance does not satisfy me, I will punish you. And at some point, I’m going to fuck you. Do you understand?”
Instead of trying to understand or form a reasonable argument, Zoro’s brain wisely shut down. He nodded.
“Good boy,” Sanji reached for the riding crop and stood up. “But from now on, if I ask you a question, you’ll answer with words. Do you understand me?” He stepped close to Zoro, running the soft tip of the crop slowly over the swordsman’s shoulder.
“Yes,” he rasped.
“Good. It’s up to you how painful this is, or isn’t. Do you know what a safe word is?”
“Yes.”
“Yours is ‘mellorine’. Now take off your towel and place it over the railing.”
The tiny, auto-pilot section of Zoro’s brain might have whispered from a thousand miles away that anyone looking in this direction with a set of binoculars from shore or, perhaps, squinted, would be able to see perfectly well what they were doing. And certainly if any of their crewmates showed up unannounced, they’d be fucked. But something in Sanji’s eyes told him it would be very unwise to argue, so he took off his towel and placed it on the railing.
“Get on your knees.”
Zoro sank to his knees faster than he could ever remember himself doing before. Sanji came towards him, and his hands twitched for those hips that looked so fucking good underneath the leather corset. But he remembered ‘no touching’, and clenched his fists instead.
“I seem to recall yesterday, someone holding my head still while they fucked my face,” he said slowly, lifting Zoro’s chin. “Do you remember that?”
Suddenly Zoro felt very far away as his face burned red. “Yes.”
“Who did that to me?”
“I did.”
Sanji ran his long, skilled fingers over one tanned cheek. “That’s not polite, Marimo-kun.”
He brought the crop up and smacked it across Zoro’s other cheek. Not hard - it would take a lot of force to make a riding crop hurt, anyway. But the sound it made was alarming, and Sanji took note of how the swordsman’s shoulder muscles tensed.
He grabbed Zoro’s chin again and forced him to look up. “Are you sorry?”
No, Zoro thought, but said, “Yes.”
Sanji leaned down and gently kissed Zoro on the lips. He stood back up and said, “Hold out your wrists.”
Zoro did so as Sanji retrieved a rope from beside the chair. He quickly, and expertly (Zoro noted), tied the swordsman’s wrists together. It was a firm job, and Zoro imagined he might have some trouble if he wanted to get out of it.
“Stand up and walk over to the mast.”
Zoro did so, now standing to the right and slightly behind the chair Sanji had previously been occupying.
“Face west, and for those directionally challenged moss-heads among us, that is this way,” Sanji pointed the crop to the right. “Now get on your knees.”
This forced Zoro to kneel with his back to the mast, facing the horizon.
“Raise your arms.”
Zoro raised his arms, wondering what this was leading to, exactly. Sanji stepped forward and pulled the swordsman’s arms further up and back, hooking the rope that had bound his hands to something on the mast. He applied pressure, but he couldn’t bring his arms down.
“As much as I appreciate apologies, somehow I feel you haven’t quite learned your lesson,” Sanji’s voice was silk as he lazily caressed the swordsman’s scar with the leather device. “I want you to suck my cock, and woe betide if I am displeased.”
Truth be told, despite the dress looking damn hot, it was far more constricting than the skirt Zoro had Sanji wearing the night before. The chef slowly inched the dress up, watching as the swordsman’s eyes followed eagerly. His cock sprang forth, finally freed from its previously uncomfortable confines. He used one hand to hold the dress up and the other to cup the back of Zoro’s head.
The swordsman wasted no time and ran his tongue up the rigid length before wrapping his lips around the head. But before he could do anything more, he was choking as Sanji thrust forward and pulled his head down at the same time, forcing his cock down Zoro’s throat.
Oh, Sanji thought, that felt good in so many ways. Now he could see why Zoro’s first inclination was to hump his face like a gorilla, but he was also satisfied to hear the little choke for air. Served the bastard right - he’d done it to Sanji countless times, and Sanji had never retaliated (well, unless you counted kicking him through a wall, or yanking on his testicles, or many other acts of violence). But once was enough. He stilled long enough to let the swordsman recover, then slowly buried his cock in that warm, wet heat, just as much as he knew Zoro could take without choking him. Then he slid back out, shuddering slightly as the swordsman sucked hard on his head, then back in again, picking up a slow, pleasurable rhythm.
Zoro’s eyes watered from the initial choke, which, he supposed, he may have deserved. He almost wished Sanji would do it again, just to feel his cock throb in his mouth like that. He took the blond haired man in his mouth as far as he could, swirling his tongue around the head and moving faster as the pressure of Sanji’s hand on his neck got tighter.
Zoro had never given Sanji a blow job like this before - it was incredible. He could easily lose himself in this; just thrusting his cock deep in Zoro’s mouth over and over again.
He hissed as he felt the tension inside of him building. “Nnh…close your eyes…”
Zoro did as he was told, but he found himself frowning for some reason. He felt Sanji’s member pulse in his mouth and the pace increased slight before the chef pulled out, coming all over the powerful swordsman’s face.
Sanji used one hand to steady himself on the mast, lest he collapse right there. He squeezed his cock, encouraging the last of his essence to come forward, rubbing the collected essence on Zoro’s lips, as the swordsman had done to Sanji the day before.
“Don’t move, keep your eyes closed,” he managed to say without sounding out of breath.
The chef stepped back, regaining his balance and composure as his veins still sang with the pleasure of the orgasm. He pulled the dress back down and retrieved a rag from his pile of goodies by the chair. He gently wiped the cum from Zoro’s face.
He stepped back again, shook his head and adopted an unaffected countenance.
“Open your eyes.”
From the look on his face, Zoro couldn’t tell if Sanji had been pleased by his performance or not, but he still looked so damn good in that dress.
“Are you going to shove your dick down my throat like that again?”
“No,” Zoro said, his throat now parched.
“Lesson learned. Now, can you think of anything else about yesterday that I might have disapproved of?”
Zoro’s first answer was to mention the skirt, but logic followed that since his lover was now wearing a dress, that probably wasn’t something that bothered him too much. He’d been abnormally snarky and perverted yesterday, but he didn’t think Sanji was going to fault him for that, given their current activity.
“Think unhygienic substance on my brand new dining room table.”
“I… made you come on the table.”
“Do you think you deserve to be punished for that?” Sanji twirled the riding crop.
Zoro rather hoped he deserved to be punished for that. Ah - a little light went on in his head.
So that was how this worked.
He summoned up his best regretful look and muttered, “…Yes.”
Sanji raised a dubious eyebrow, then lowered his gaze to the swordsman’s nether regions. He placed the soft leather top of the riding crop on the head of Zoro’s erection. He tapped it gently and the swordsman hissed.
“Was that a complaint?” Sanji snapped.
“No,” Zoro exhaled. It hadn’t hurt, but he had no idea if Sanji was going to do it again, and if he was going to do it harder. Frankly it scared the shit out of him.
“I didn’t think so.” Sanji made the little tap one more time before moving out of Zoro’s line of vision.
As much as Sanji loved the shoes, they had to come off. His toes had lost feeling in them shortly after he put them on and it was causing him to have difficulty balancing. Mentally saluting women like Robin-chwan and Nami-swan who were able to run at full speed in these things, he quickly unstrapped them and stepped barefoot onto the wood floor.
Not that it mattered anyway, Zoro wouldn’t be seeing much more of him after this point. He picked up the silk blindfold and walked slowly back to the other side of the mast.
“Being able to see your punishment coming only makes it easier, I feel,” the chef leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Zoro’s forehead before wrapping the blind fold over his eyes, tying it securely.
Zoro took a deep breath. He felt Sanji lift his hands off the hook of the mast, gently caressing them.
“Stay on your knees and turn around.”
The swordsman did so, and Sanji replaced his bound hands back on the hook. Zoro could feel the breeze against his bare ass and, for the first time in a long time, he felt uncomfortably vulnerable. He was naked, tied up, he couldn’t see and he was completely exposed to the man behind him. The swordsman shivered as he felt the riding crop slide down his spine, over the cleft of his ass, slipping underneath over his balls. Gods, if Sanji did that there his dick would probably fall off, he was sure of it.
But the riding crop slid gently back up and over each cheek, back up his spine and up one arm, then down the other. It would have felt good, and it did, but Zoro kept wondering when Sanji would reach back and bring that thing down with more force, and where.
The chef licked his hips, his mouth very dry at the sight before him. He’d never imagined Zoro would look this good under his mercy. The lines of his back stretched taught, the black of the blindfold against his green hair, his leg spread slightly as the riding crop roamed his body.
He got on his knees just behind the swordsman, putting the riding crop down so that both his hands would be free. He used his knees to spread Zoro’s legs farther apart and placed his hands on the swordsman’s hips, gently massaging.
Zoro stiffened at the contact, but slowly relaxed. His body, anyway. Mentally he was alert and waiting for Sanji’s intentions to manifest themselves.
The chef ran his hands up the thick cords of muscles on Zoro’s back, firmly digging his thumbs in the stiff places, and smoothing over the rest while he placed hot, wet kisses on the swordsman’s neck. He slowly reached around, ghosting light touches just above the swordsman’s pelvis, slowly tracing the firm six pack up to his pectorals, then down the scar that ripped across his chest, grinning when Zoro shivered slightly.
“You are allowed to beg me and you are allowed to make noises. Nothing else,” he murmured in the green haired man’s ear as he wrapped his long fingers around Zoro’s hard length. “I will be very unhappy if you come without my permission. Do you understand?”
Zoro’s stomach muscles tensed and he tried to give a verbal ‘yes’, but it came out too breathy to form an actual word. He nodded his head, hoping he wouldn’t be punished for being unable to speak.
He could feel Sanji smile against his neck and was relieved when hot breath washed over his ear, “Good boy.”
Sanji’s other hand crept around to cup Zoro’s balls gently.
“Did you know how susceptible the testicles are to erotic stimulation?” Sanji asked, pumping Zoro’s length once. His hot breath came in waves over Zoro’s neck and ear as he spoke low. “Every part is a potential erogenous zone. For example, just by warming them in my hand as I have and repeatedly gripping them gently, like this,” the blond haired man gently pumped Zoro’s scrotum several times, “it will not only feel good, but also increase your blood flow, causing engorgement and increased sensitivity to your,” Sanji pumped the swordsman’s length again, “cock.”
Zoro’s fists were probably white from fisting them so hard. He breathed steadily through his nose, trying to ignore the warming pleasure just those few actions had caused to spread throughout his entire body. He could do this, he had control of his body. Far more control over it than this. But even as he told himself that, precum had begun weeping from his member.
“The best way,” Sanji continued, taking note of the pre-cum, “is to stimulate them directly, though, is like this.” He began intermittently making rolling movements with his fingers, and gently gripping them.
“Ha…”
It was more a heavy sigh than a whimper, but Sanji was pleased with the noise. Zoro’s breathing had increased rapidly and the swordsman probably didn’t even realize it, but his hips were making tiny jerking movements. The chef’s other hand remained still at the base of Zoro’s length, so he gave it another firm stroke.
“Unh…”
“Did you know a part of your penis is actually hidden underneath?” Sanji carefully reached further down, slightly lifting the sack and placed his fingers at the area below, beginning a sharp, palpitating massage.
Zoro’s stomach almost turned, but it quickly turned to intense shots of pleasure before it became too unpleasant. He arched his back, spreading his knees further apart, hoping for some sort of movement or friction and hoping to a god he didn’t believe in that Sanji didn’t touch his dick again, because he was definitely going to come if he did.
“You look a little frustrated, marimo,” Sanji said softly, nuzzling the green hair that provoked the nickname. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes.” Zoro ground out, trying not to sound breathless.
Sanji sensed the resistance and he didn’t like it. He could correct that, however. He slid the hand wrapped around Zoro’s length up to the wet tip, swirling his thumb just around the ring of the head, occasionally swiping over the sensitive eye, all while continuing his assault further down.
“You don’t sound too much like you want to come. In fact, you sound rather bored with all this. Maybe I should just leave you here.”
Zoro’s thighs quivered with strain. He knew that tone of voice, and it never meant that Sanji was particularly pleased. What did the chef want him to do? He was spending every ounce of concentration to keep himself from coming, like he’d been ordered to do. He hadn’t spoken out of turn. What was he supposed to do, beg?
Ah, he thought. Bingo. But that… He wasn’t even familiar with words used to beg. But he didn’t have all day to come up with something, either.
“Ah… um… no, I… please-”
He had to shut his mind down that much more, so that he couldn’t register what he was saying. If he did, he’d probably lose it.
“Please what?”
“I… need to come… please…”
Sanji paused for a moment before smirking. “No.” Feeling deliciously cruel, he began stroking Zoro’s cock rapidly.
Fuck. Zoro’s bound hands clawed at the wood of the mast and he jerked forward, biting his lip as hard as he could. “No I can’t -don’t- please SANJI I’m gonna FUCK-”
“You’re not going to come Zoro, because I told you not to,” the blond haired man increased the pace. “If you come I’ll have to punish you even more. Now beg me.”
“Please Sanji I can’t,” Zoro gasped for breath, he could barely feel the sting where he’d cut his lip from biting it. “I need to come, fuck PLEASE just let me come ah, ah, no, ah fuck fuck-”
Sanji quickly but gently pulled Zoro’s balls down, wrapping his other hand tightly around the base of his cock.
“FUCK!” Zoro cursed, slumping against the mast. His erection throbbed badly and his balls felt like they were going to fall off. He felt like he was reeling behind the darkness of his blind fold.
Sanji released the other man’s length and balls and began rubbing soothingly at Zoro’s back. “You did very good,” he lovingly kissed the swordsman’s neck. “I’m very pleased Zoro.”
But Sanji was far from done, and he almost felt bad for the next part. Almost.
“I’m going to reward you for your good behavior,” he patted gently at Zoro’s side and crawled back a bit, lifting Zoro’s hips so that he rested on his knees again. “I thought that since you enjoyed doing this so much to me, I should return the favor.”
Sanji inched back a bit more and lifted his dress up, giving his own hardening length a few good strokes just to relieve some tension. Hearing Zoro beg like that… He would never be short on masturbating material again.
The blond haired man firmly kneaded Zoro’s ass before spreading his cheeks apart.
The swordsman wondered briefly if the chef had gone insane and had decided to fuck him without lube, when he felt something very warm and wet slide down the cleft of his ass. That was definitely not a finger… or a dick.
Shock dashed through his entire body and his first instinct was to try and pull away, but Sanji held his hips firm. Zoro dropped his head and took several deep breaths, shuddering as he felt the tongue lap at his opening and the surrounding area, down past his perineum to tease momentarily at his balls before returning to torture at that most sensitive area.
No wonder Sanji had such a problem with this, and a moment of something that might have resembled remorse floated through Zoro’s mind. That was until he suddenly groaned and melted into the touch. Suddenly he was paying very close attention to the rough texture of Sanji’s tongue, and how it was shooting little arrows of pleasure straight to his loins.
Maybe if Sanji would learn to sit still long enough to get to this point, he’d learn to like it. Everything was nerve endings and little hot shocks, and yeah, he thought, it was almost impossible to sit still for this.
Sanji raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t stop. Maybe next time he’d wait a few more minutes before he sent the marimo through a wall. And damn it, this was actually supposed to be revenge (despite calling it a reward), but that wasn’t going to work if the asshole liked it.
He sat up and Zoro slumped forward again, breathing heavily.
Sanji admired the scene before him for a moment, lifting the dress up to slowly stroke himself a few times. He walked over the chair to grab the last thing - the lube.
He returned, almost not wanting to move Zoro from the position he was in - ever again. But the swordsman’s knees had probably taken a bit of abuse on the hard wood, and his arms could probably use some circulation. He pulled Zoro’s bound hands up and over the hook, gently lowering them and crouching down to massage at the shoulders.
“Are they numb?”
“No.”
“Stand up, take two steps back and put your hands on the mast. If you move them from there even once, I’ll fit you with a cock ring for the rest of the night.”
That wasn’t an empty threat, either. Sanji had picked it up at the shop, intending to use it on the swordsman from the beginning. But after thinking about it, Sanji decided that it negated the idea of forcing Zoro to control his bodily reactions, which he thought would be far more challenging to his lover than just automatic denial of pleasure.
With Zoro conveniently bent over for him so obediently, Sanji picked up the riding crop, just for an extra bit of fun. Without warning, he laid a hard smack to the swordsman’s left cheek.
Zoro flinched out of surprise, but he could definitely feel the small sting this time. It was negligible, but damn if he didn’t want to break that fucking little stick in half and throw it into the ocean where Sanji would never find it again. Shitty little thing made him so fucking jumpy.
It came down again with a loud thwack against his right cheek, then his left again, then both of his thighs. Each time some part of Zoro’s body flinched - his knees, his head, or, Sanji delighted, his rear. But he’d had enough fun, finally tossing the little device back over by the chair and coming forward to run his hands apologetically over the little red welts he created.
“Spread your legs further,” he ordered, pouring a generous amount of lube in his hand and spreading it over his fingers. As much as he’d like to just prep a little and slam into that tightness, Zoro rarely ever bottomed, and Zoro with a sore ass was a very unmanageable, cranky Zoro.
He gently probed the puckered entrance, using two fingers and pushing into the hot tightness.
The swordsman’s only reaction was a slight drop of his head. His cock was ready to explode and all his concentration was required to keep from making a mistake.
Sanji snorted, deciding to add a third finger if Zoro was going to be like that.
This time the green haired man hissed, his muscles clenching around the chef’s fingers.
“Relax, baby,” he rubbed at the small of the swordsman’s back and plunged his fingers deeper in, caressing Zoro’s inner walls.
Zoro squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold and forced himself to relax.
“I’m going to fuck you now, so listen closely. Do not move your hands from the mast and do not come until I give you permission,” he reiterated. “I’ll fuck you how I want, for as long as I want. You may beg, though it probably won’t do you any good. And I do love to hear those sounds you make, so feel free to speak up. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Sanji removed his fingers and hiked the dress up, applying more lube to his member. He grabbed Zoro’s hip with one hand and wove his fingers through the swordsman’s hair with the other, yanking his head up before placing his cock at Zoro’s entrance, pressing forward slowly. He went forward gently until his head was buried in that delicious heat. Then he thrust forward once with more force, then back out just a tiny fraction, and in again hard, now completely buried to the hilt.
Zoro’s neck strained against the pull and he swallowed hard, forcing his muscles to surrender to the harsh invasion. At least now his erection had lessened just a bit and wasn’t threatening to release all over the mast (which was the inevitable result, and hopefully Sanji couldn’t find fault with that). But then Sanji’s warm tongue was at his ear, sucking on his earlobe and probing inside, sliding down his neck to that tiny little juncture that always miraculously made him weak in the knees.
He braced himself for more rough treatment, but instead the chef slid slowly out of him, dragging the hand that had been at the swordsman’s hip slowly up his stomach to toy with a nipple. Sanji rubbed at the sensitive piece of flesh and placed open mouthed kisses on his neck as he leisurely plunged back into Zoro’s velvet depths.
“Unnnh,” the green haired man moaned, much to Sanji’s inner glee. He released his hold on Zoro’s hair, joining his other hand at Zoro’s unattended nipple, pinching both hard before running down the line of his stomach, down to his thighs and dragging his fingers back up, continuing his slow, thorough fuck.
“Do you like that?” Sanji whispered.
“Yesss,” Zoro hissed, so Sanji did it again, repeating all the motions, but this time dragging his nails firmly over his skin on the way back up, leaving red trails in their wake. This elicited several small, panting sounds from his lover and Sanji couldn’t get enough. He reached down and stroked Zoro’s hardness slowly, in time with his thrusts.
The sense of urgency was slowly building again, and Zoro arched his back painfully, clinging to the mast. “Sanji…”
Sanji ignored him, instead looking down to watch as his cock slid slowly in and out of the other man. It was mesmerizing and he felt an intense throb pulse from his balls to the top of his member. Sweat was starting to build on Zoro’s skin and Sanji licked at it. He wondered when Zoro would break, because he could definitely keep this up for quite a while.
But Zoro’s patience was thread-like at this point, however, and it only took another pump of Sanji’s skilled hand to make it snap.
“S-Sanji…” Zoro wasn’t sure how to ask for it, or if he even could. But he couldn’t come like this, even if he wanted to. The pace was too slow, and Sanji was purposefully squeezing the base of his cock every few minutes to keep him from coming.
“Hm?” Sanji said lazily, nuzzling the nape of the swordsman’s neck.
“I… please…”
“If you want something, you have to ask for it properly.”
Zoro growled in frustration, immediately regretting it. Sanji’s hand was back in his hair in an instant, yanking his head back and making his neck strain painfully.
“What was that?”
“No I… please-”
“Even if I wanted to oblige your request, I couldn’t, Zoro, because you won’t tell me what it is. Stop being so pathetic and just tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me harder.”
“I didn’t quite hear that, marimo, speak up.”
“Fuck me harder god damn it! I need to come and I need you to fuck me harder! Please!”
Sanji straightened up, grasping Zoro’s hips firmly with both hands. “Like this?” He slammed forward roughly and Zoro let out a strangled yelp. He slid out slowly, watching as his slick member left the hot tightness, almost out to the tip. He paused for a moment before slamming back in again with powerful force. “Is that how you want it?”
“No- I mean- yes but-”
Slam.
“What do you mean? I’m doing what you want, aren’t I? What else do you want?” Sanji asked calmly.
Slam.
“Faster!” Zoro cried out again, gripping the mast and trying to keep his control. Every time Sanji slammed forward like that his balls tightened and his cock leaked, but it was still too slow, and each time he was yanked back from his orgasm.
“If I go any faster, you’ll come without my permission.”
“Please…”
“Please what?”
“Let me come, please, fuck please, let me come…”
That might have been a sob. Sanji smirked. “Not yet, but I think I’ll speed things up.”
Sanji tightened his hold on Zoro’s hips (he’d be surprised if they weren’t bruised by tomorrow) and impaled him without mercy, fucking him fast and hard.
“No Sanji fuck, ah, please, please let me come-”
“Do you want to come?” Sanji panted.
“Yes!”
Sanji closed his eyes and groaned as his loins tightened then released, and his orgasm hit him like a flash flood. “Come for me,” he managed to rasp out, spilling himself deep inside the other man.
Zoro’s back went rigid as Sanji thrust into him once more and his orgasm crashed through him. He came, stream after stream, his cock bobbing with the force of it as he was milked dry. His lungs heaved as he fought to keep himself on his feet, leaning heavily into the mast which he’d just completely marked.
Sanji’s entire body slumped, but he managed to support his own weight. He gently removed himself from Zoro and quickly (wobbling slightly as he did so) turned the swordsman around, untying the bonds. He frowned as he saw the unhappy red and purple lines they had created, and he rubbed them apologetically. So much for soft ropes.
Zoro flexed his hands as they were untied and dutifully put them down at his sides, not reaching out for Sanji as he might have otherwise done. Then his blind fold was removed and the chef was in his arms, knocking them both to the floor.
Sanji paused only for a moment, searching Zoro’s eyes before quickly covering his mouth with his own. The swordsman took this as permission and eagerly wrapped his arms around the blond haired man.
When they parted, Zoro asked, “You’re keeping the dress, right?”
“Hell yes, but I’m throwing out that trashy skirt.”
Zoro frowned. He liked that skirt. It was easy to lift and well, maybe he’d just have to hide it somewhere. Then an idea came to him. “Then can I throw out that fucking slappy thing?”
“Slappy thing?”
Zoro turned over on his stomach and reached for the riding crop. He waved it at Sanji. “This little fucker.”
Sanji snatched it, looking scandalized. “Fuck no. I love this thing.”
“Then I’m keeping the skirt.”
*********
So, some thoughts. This was the first time I've ever written an uke Zoro, and it was pretty extreme. I don't know if its good or even readable, so I'll let you guys decide. ^^;; It's crack, what can I say?
Also, for those interested, the dress he's wearing? Here. And my apologies for any mistakes in the BDSM parts - I really only know what little internet research I did and the valuable bits of input that bronzetigress gave me.