Interlude: Sergeant Major Tashigi [pt. III]

Smoker drove forward.

Her answer tore into a cry. One long thrust forced her open and kept coming until his hips cracked heavily against her ass. Tashigi clawed at the polished wood, crumpling the report beneath her palms. Tsujo had forced her body to make impossible room for him. Smoker filled every inch she had once believed was available, packing that familiar depth with a dense, punishing weight before seating himself to the hilt with his whole body behind it.

For one breath he remained buried. The cock throbbed inside muscles still tender from yesterday, stirring pain and pleasure together until she could no longer separate them. His fist tightened in her hair. When he pulled back, every raised vein dragged through her, and the thick cord beneath the shaft rasped along a raw path that made her knees buckle.

The return stroke hit harder.

Wood groaned. Pens rolled from the desk. One struck the floor as Smoker found his pace, fast enough that each impact shoved her breasts across the pages and knocked her hips against the edge. He used her hair to keep her head up while a huge hand closed around her waist, fingers digging in until she felt the bruises beginning.

“Who’s fucking that pirate-soaked pussy now?” he demanded.

“You are, Captain. You’re fucking me.”

“Then tell me what my cock is doing.”

The next thrust scattered her answer. “Pounding... ah! Pounding Tsujo out of me. Scraping his cum out of my pussy!”

A low, filthy laugh rumbled behind her. “Good. That’s the kind of report I wanted.”

Smoker drove deeper. When the change of angle made her gasp, he found it again without slowing. The next thrust struck the same place harder, and her cry fed the violence in his rhythm. His bare chest pressed over her naked back, rock-hard pecs bearing directly against her while the ridges of his stomach rubbed her spine. Cigar smoke, sweat, and the hot male weight of him swallowed the room.

"Strong Marine cock," he muttered against her ear. "Hear how that slutty pussy takes it."

Wet sounds answered him. Each withdrawal tried to pull her with it; each return spread her around the thick head and drove the breath from her lungs. Formal speech fell apart. Tashigi managed his title, scraps of yes, and the climbing moans he seemed determined to wrench louder.

When his fingers slipped beneath her and found her clitoris, pleasure sharpened through the soreness. Rough circles kept time with his hips. Her legs folded into the air, the bottoms of her feet facing the ceiling, jerking with his thrusts. Smoker's body trapped her against the desk, continuing to thrust while the pressure wound tighter and tighter.

The climax broke through her. Her pussy clenched so violently that his next stroke stalled before his hips forced it home, and the declaration tore out with the same helpless force. "I'm cumming on my captain's cock! Your strong Marine cock is scraping the pirate cum out of my pussy... ah! It's making your slutty officer cum!"

Her shout struck the closed door and carried into the corridor. Metal clattered outside. Smoker laughed under his breath, pleased with the proof. "That's right. Come all over the cock that's going to keep you off pirate dicks."

He fucked her through every contraction until the cries thinned into breathless sounds.

Then his cock slipped free. Before the sudden emptiness could become relief, the fist in her hair hauled her upright. Tashigi stumbled backward into the enormous heat of his body. One arm locked around her waist, lifted, and carried her away from the desk with her toes dragging uselessly over the rug.

"Captain?"

"I said all out."

He turned her toward the paneled wall beside the harbor chart. Her palms struck wood. An instant later his weight arrived behind her, driving the air from her lungs and crushing both breasts flat against the panels. Their soft weight spread wide under the pressure, flattened into broad pancakes with the nipples trapped against varnished grain.

Smoker's body sealed her there. Huge pecs pressed into her shoulder blades like another wall, too hard to yield when she tried to breathe. The ribbed blocks of his stomach ground along her lower back. With his forearm cinched around her middle, her bare feet left the floor completely. Her toes pointed and curled several inches above the rug, searching for support that was no longer there.

Caught between wood and muscle, she had nowhere to move when his cock pushed between her thighs. The broad head found her wet entrance by touch. Smoker drove it in with a short, brutal thrust, forcing her body tighter against the wall as the rest of the shaft buried itself.

Tashigi screamed. The sound rebounded into her own face.

His free hand buried itself in her hair again, winding the dark strands around his fist and pulling her head back from the panel. Her glasses slipped crooked. The pressure at her scalp held her helplessly arched while he began to fuck her in earnest.

Smoker held her off the floor and hammered into her with short, punishing strokes. Each thrust crushed her breasts more firmly into the wood, spreading them, dragging her nipples across the varnish, then allowing them the smallest rebound before the next impact flattened them again. The ache in her chest joined the grip in her hair and the bruising arm around her belly.

Behind every sensation came the rage of his cock. She felt it striking through her pelvis, through the pit of her stomach, almost into her diaphragm. The ridged shaft scoured the soreness Tsujo had left behind and replaced it with Smoker's own relentless friction. Pain sweetened at the edges until her head went pleasantly fuzzy and the hard wall before her seemed to sway.

"This is how I compete with that bastard," Smoker growled into her ear. His pecs flexed against her back, solid as stone. "He had the bigger cock. I've got everything else."

"Captain... ah... too hard..."

The words lacked any request for him to stop. Smoker heard the difference. "You said you could handle it."

"I can. I... fuck... I can."

His fist pulled her hair tighter. Another burst of thrusts lifted her higher against the wall until her toes kicked at empty air. The force made the wooden panels shudder. Somewhere above them, the harbor chart tapped frantically against its frame.

Tashigi lost track of individual strokes. There was only the repeating collision of his hips, the cock raging inside her, and the enormous body behind her refusing to let her escape a single inch of it. Her breasts burned where they were mashed flat. Every breath had to fight past the compression of wood before her and Smoker's arm around her middle. Each shallow gasp made the edges of her vision blur more sweetly.

The second orgasm gathered inside that haze. At first it was only a trembling deep in her thighs. Then Smoker angled upward, and the underside ridge of his cock tore across the place already rubbed raw with pleasure.

"Oh... Captain, there. There, there..."

He answered by keeping the same merciless angle. The next thrust punched the word out of her. The one after that made her pussy begin to flutter.

Her mouth opened before thought could intervene. "I'm cumming again! Your cock is crushing me against the wall... pounding my pussy so hard I can't stop cumming!"

Her body seized around him. Smoker kept her pinned while the orgasm rolled through her, still thrusting so fast that one crest blurred into the next. "Good. Cream on it while I grind those fat tits into the wood."

Pleasure loosened her legs, which mattered little with his arm carrying her. Her toes curled in the air. Cum and slick ran down both thighs, cooling where it escaped the heat trapped between their bodies.

The pounding carried on through her contractions. As they weakened, he changed the rhythm, drawing farther out and driving back with enough force to knock a dull cry from her each time. The sweet pain returned, stronger now, fuzzing thought until the Marine office existed only as wood against her tits and muscle against her back.

Another climax gathered before she had finished shaking, then broke into a fresh wave under the same merciless pounding. Soon there was no clean boundary between them. Her pussy clenched, released, and clenched again around the furious cock while each crest dragged another confession from her.

"I'm cumming because you won't stop... ah! You keep battering the same place, Captain. I'm cumming again!"

"How many?" he demanded.

"Three... ah! I think three!"

That produced a deep, satisfied grunt. "Keep counting."

At last he let her toes brush the rug. Her legs could not support her. Smoker turned with one arm around her middle and carried her to his chair before her knees folded. When he sat, Tashigi came down astride the thick cock still shining between her legs.

Facing him gave her the full sight of what had been overpowering her from behind. Sweat glazed his huge pectorals and ran through the deep channels of his abdomen. Every breath lifted that rock-hard chest beneath her hands; every time he raised her, the cords in his arms and the ribbed blocks of his stomach tightened together.

Tashigi tried to ride him. Her thighs managed two exhausted lifts. Smoker watched the effort with a rough smile before his hands swallowed her hips and took control. He raised her until only the swollen head remained inside, then pulled her down hard enough to slap their bodies together.

Her breasts swung over his face. Smoker caught one nipple in his mouth and sucked while the other filled his hand. The softer rhythm lasted only a few strokes. Soon his arms were pumping her up and down, his chest and abs bunching with the work while her own muscles hung useless and trembling.

"When this pussy gets hungry again," he said against wet skin, teeth grazing her nipple, "you come to me."

Another drop drove the answer from her as a sob. "Yes, Captain."

"I'll keep it full. You stay away from pirate cock."

"I... I'll come to you. Please, just..."

"Please what?"

Proper words had become impossible. "More. Your cock. Please."

The simplicity of it pleased him. Smoker’s hands tightened around her hips, and he began driving her down harder. The chair legs scraped across the rug beneath the force. Her ass struck his thighs while his balls slapped the wet flesh below, and his cock continued battering the same depths that had already made her come three times.

Only then did his breathing turn rough. “Take it,” Smoker grunted. “I’m going to bust a load in this Marine cunt.”

He pulled her down to the root and came. His cock jerked deep inside her, pumping one hot spurt into the sore space it occupied, then another. The heat and the hard pulses drove Tashigi into a fourth orgasm.

“I’m cumming while my captain fills me! Your cock is pumping cum into my pussy... ah! I can feel every spurt!”

The final pulse passed. Tashigi sagged against him, thighs loose and chest heaving, prepared to slide off his cock and recover.

Smoker’s hands suddenly tightened around her hips. He lifted her and drove her down again.

The shaft inside her remained completely rigid. Its swollen head struck the same battered depth, the raised veins dragged through her clenching pussy, and the fresh load he had just pumped into her squeezed back around the still-hard cock.

Tashigi gasped in startled pleasure. “You’re still hard.”

“That was one load,” Smoker said. He raised her again without giving her time to recover. “I told you I was going all out.”

She was shocked, thinking of her former lovers, their cocks had begun wilting almost as soon as they ejaculated, shrinking into soft, dangling flesh that was finished for the night. Like Tsujo’s, Smoker’s remained a raging weapon inside her, just as thick and forceful as it had been before he came. He had barely finished filling her before he resumed fucking her through his own semen.

The next thirty minutes passed in a rough tour of the office. Smoker fucked her over the arm of the chair, put her on her hands and knees across the rug, pinned her against the wall with one thigh hooked over his forearm, and bent her across the low cabinet beneath the harbor chart. His first load kept leaking around the shaft and running down her legs, but his cock never softened or lost force. Each time her body failed, Smoker carried her to the next position and started again.

Tashigi came on the chair, on the rug, against the wall, and over the cabinet. Every orgasm forced another filthy explanation from her about what his cock was doing and why it made her cum. After the sixth or seventh, she lost count.

At the end of the half hour he stood with her still impaled, lifting her as if she weighed no more than his coat. For two strokes she clung to him face-to-face, breasts crushed against his huge pecs and legs locked around his waist while the hard ridges of his stomach shifted beneath her pussy. Then he drew her off his cock, turned her before her bare feet could settle, and pulled her back against the furnace heat of his body.

His cock pushed between her thighs from behind. Smoker gathered her beneath the arms, raised her, and drove upward, seating her again with one hard thrust. Her back bowed over the ribbed wall of his abdomen. One thick forearm crossed the upper swell of her breasts while the other folded higher around her shoulders, the inside of his elbow settling beneath her jaw.

"Quit reaching for the floor," he said against her ear. "I've got you."

Tashigi let her legs go slack. Her toes swung well above the rug, and her hips dropped until the cock buried inside her caught her weight. The sudden downward pull stretched her pussy tightly around the shaft. A broken moan escaped as Smoker lifted with his arms, thrust with his hips, and let her sink again. For one obscene instant she felt as though she were hanging from his cock.

Looking down past her jostling breasts, she could see it happening. A wet span of thick, veined shaft appeared between her spread thighs whenever he raised her. The swollen lips of her pussy clung to its ridges, dragging over the hard underside cord before her weight fell and swallowed him to the root again. His cock disappeared into her beneath a glossy mess of semen and slick, then emerged to repeat the stroke while her dangling feet kicked at empty air.

Watching her body close around the shaft gave the sword comparison a crude, obvious meaning: the man carried the weapon, and a woman's body opened as its living sheath, stretching to receive whatever cock claimed it. Hanging from Smoker's, Tashigi felt that role with humiliating clarity.

Smoker's arms tightened. The lower one compressed her breasts against her chest, forcing their soft weight downward. The upper forearm pressed across her throat and narrowed her next breath to a thin rasp. Tashigi's hands flew to his arm. Her fingers sank into muscle so dense that the effort made no impression upon it.

The reflexive clench of her pussy drew a growl from Smoker. "There. That's it."

His name emerged as a breathless fragment, and the shaft inside her felt larger with every second her lungs strained. Her pulse became thunder in her ears. The office receded behind a haze while the pressure of his cock sharpened, each raised vein dragging through her with cruel new clarity.

She knew that voice from gunfire, pursuit, and impossible orders. Smoker's faith in her had always arrived as another demand, another danger he expected her to survive. Because it was him, her fingers clung to his forearm while her legs remained loose. The strength closing around her throat belonged to the man she trusted more than anyone in the Marines, and that trust let him take her farther than fear should have allowed.

"I told you this would be rough," he said. The massive chest against her back barely moved with the effort of holding her. "I know what you can handle."

His hips drove up as her body dropped. The collision buried him so deeply that Tashigi's back arched across his washboard stomach. Pressure swelled behind her eyes. Black flecks gathered at the edges of her sight, then Smoker eased his arm and let a ragged breath tear into her lungs. Air and pleasure struck together. Her pussy spasmed around his cock, and the orgasm ripped through her before she could fill her chest.

"I'm cumming because you're choking me on your cock!" she screamed with the returning breath. "I'm hanging from it... ah! Your cock is holding me up while I cum!"

"Then hang there and milk it," Smoker said.

The forearm closed again, cutting her next cry to a wet rasp. Smoker kept thrusting beneath her, controlling the rise and fall of her whole body with his arms while his cock drove the rhythm from below. Her head tipped back against his shoulder. Saliva shone at the corner of her open mouth. Every time the darkness thickened he gave her enough air to remain at its edge, and every returning breath sent another bright convulsion through the pussy squeezing him.

Her old lovers had put their cocks inside her and given her pleasure. Tsujo had made penetration an event that swallowed the world. Smoker made everything surrounding it part of the fuck: his arms, her weight, her breath, and the trust that kept her body loose while his strength controlled it. The difference reached far beyond measurements, but the thought dissolved before it could acquire words.

Another climax seized her before she could pursue it. Tashigi hung against Smoker with her toes curled in the air, breasts crushed beneath one massive arm and throat held by the other, while her pussy milked the cock supporting her from inside. When he loosened his arm, her first breath escaped as another ruined declaration. "Still cumming... every time you choke me and fuck up into me... I can't stop!"

Smoker fucked her through it until the last shudder weakened her grip upon his forearm. Only then did he release her throat and let her drag in a full, shaking breath.

Smoker let her slide down his cock until the swollen head pulled free, caught her before her legs folded, and carried her the few steps to the desk. Her shoulders and spine struck the scattered reports when he laid her across them, some pages sticking to the damp heat of her body as he spread her open. One bare leg went high against his shoulder. The other hung from the edge.

With the angle exposing her completely, Smoker drove back in. The thick underside cord ground through the same sensitive path with each short stroke. His balls battered the wet flesh beneath, smearing the remains of Tsujo, her own juices, and Smoker's first load across both of them. Above it came his breathing, rougher now, and the tightening of the ribbed abdomen between her raised legs.

He gathered both breasts in one hand, forcing them together until her nipples protruded between his fingers. Whatever patience remained in him burned away. The thrusts shortened and quickened, each one hammering deeper into the heat clamping around him.

"Again," Smoker grunted. "Cum on my cock again. How many is that?"

Her head rolled against the desk. "I can't... I lost... Captain, I lost count..."

"Then one more."

His certainty entered her almost as powerfully as the cock. A twist of his fingers flashed pain through her nipples at the same instant the ridge beneath his shaft dragged across the swollen place inside her.

"Oh... oh, fuck, Captain..."

Smoker heard the last of her formality collapse and drove harder. The climax rose through the haze in broken pieces, each impact knocking another fragment from her mouth.

"I'm cumming again! Your cock is... ah! It's conquering my pussy... filling every sore place the pirate stretched! I'm cumming for my captain!"

Her pussy seized him. Smoker's expression narrowed into the concentration of a man finally close enough to care only about his own release. He bent over her, his huge body boxing her against the desk, rock-hard chest hanging above her face while those washboard muscles clenched with every rough stroke.

"That's it," he said through his teeth. "Milk me. I'll fill that pussy again."

Tashigi was still coming when his rhythm broke. The hand on her thigh became painful. His hips drove flush and stayed there, cock jerking deep inside her as the first spurt struck.

Heat spread through the sore space he occupied. Another pulse followed, then another, each answered by an involuntary squeeze of her pussy. Smoker groaned into the curve of her neck. Semen crowded around the buried shaft until it pushed back past him, spilling hot over her stretched lips and soaking into the report beneath her ass.

For several seconds neither moved. His weight held her to the desk; his breath washed across her skin; the cock inside her continued to twitch while the last contractions passed. Beyond the closed door, somebody shuffled papers with theatrical diligence.

When Smoker finally pulled out, the loss left her abruptly empty. A warm gush followed, spreading beneath her and carrying cloudy remnants of both men across the ruined pages. Smoker looked down at the mess with a grunt that sounded more satisfied than surprised.

He pulled the twisted lace back across his softening cock and heavy balls, then tugged the rear string into the crack of his ass. After stepping into his trousers and closing the fly, he shrugged the Marine coat back over his bare shoulders. Within moments he resembled the same impatient commander who had been ready to sail when she entered, apart from the sweat still shining along his stomach.

Tashigi needed longer. Her thighs quivered when she tried to close them, and bruised muscles protested as she sat up. Being carried and used had exhausted parts of her that ordinary sex had never touched. She gathered the fundoshi from the floor and wound it over her leaking pussy, pulled the coat onto her shoulders, recovered Shigure, and stepped carefully into her boots. Her glasses sat crooked enough to explain why the room still tilted.

The two lovers before yesterday had given Tashigi pleasant, forgettable sex. They had entered her, found rhythms she enjoyed, ejaculated once, and softened. Their cocks were finished as soon as their loads were inside her. Tsujo and Smoker treated ejaculation as little more than a pause.

Tsujo had conquered her through a size that defied experience, stretching her into the singular Big Dickgasm and leaving every ordinary cock diminished afterward. He had remained hard after flooding her and fucked her again. Smoker's cock carried roughly half that length and nowhere near the pirate's girth. Even so, it belonged to a body powerful enough to lift her, pin her, control her breathing, and keep fucking her for another thirty minutes after his first load. He had remained rock hard until he came inside her a second time.

The Marines in the shower had troubled her because their desire seemed to possess no weight. Smoker had provided the opposite. His want filled the office before his trousers opened, and the cock inside them justified every expectation she had formed about the man. Thick, veined, and forceful, it stood far above her old lovers and the nervous erections in the baths even while Tsujo's impossible weapon overshadowed it.

Trust explained why she could yield to Smoker in ways she would never permit from those subordinates. It did not explain why seeing his cock had felt like confirmation. The sight had made his groping, his orders, and his certainty fit together with the same unsettling neatness she had found in Tsujo.

Two extraordinary encounters set against twenty ordinary erections were already becoming a system in her mind. Perhaps women truly did respond differently to great cocks. Perhaps size was only the most obvious quality. Smoker had shown her that strength, skill, and endurance mattered too. An exceptional cock could ejaculate inside a woman, remain hard, and continue fucking her long after an ordinary penis would be dangling uselessly. Once the thought formed, every event since morning seemed to supply evidence for it.

Meito cock. The phrase surfaced first. Kokuto cock. Yoto cock. Familiar names searched for distinctions she could not yet define. Tashigi possessed no catalogue and only the beginning of a standard, yet the separation between exceptional and ordinary had already taken shape. A blade revealed its quality through balance, edge, workmanship, and what it accomplished once drawn. A cock, apparently, could reveal its grade through what it did to the woman taking it.

Her fingers had curled around one breast again. She removed them before Smoker could comment, disturbed by how naturally the comparison had offered itself.

He rescued an unstained sheet from the edge of the desk. "Rewrite the report aboard ship. Tour, cafe, scaffold, everything Tsujo said, every useful identifying feature. Bring it to my cabin tonight."

The mention of his cabin sent a small aftershock through her battered pussy. She steadied her voice with effort. "Yes, Captain."

Already looking toward the harbor chart, Smoker put both cigars back between his teeth and struck a match. "Get to the ship. We've wasted enough time."

The return to duty was so complete that Tashigi nearly questioned whether the better part of an hour had happened. Then she stepped into the corridor and felt Smoker’s semen shift inside her. Two orderlies stood at opposite walls, backs straight and faces red, each staring with elaborate concentration in a different direction. Her eyes flicked toward the matching bulges in their trousers. Both men were erect, their hidden cocks apparently saluting their commander’s performance. The closed door had concealed very little.

Soon enough the warship cleared Loguetown under full sail.

Tashigi went below to the small officer’s cabin assigned to her. It held a narrow bunk, a washbasin, a rack for Shigure, and a writing desk bolted securely to the deck. She latched the door, placed her sword in the rack, and sat down to amend the report in privacy.

The ship’s motion still followed her inside. Shigure shifted softly in its rack whenever the hull rolled, and Smoker’s warm semen moved inside Tashigi before leaking into the fundoshi between her thighs. Her open coat fell around the chair while her bare breasts hung close to the desk. She ignored the occasional brush of a nipple against its edge and recorded the tour, the cafe encounter, the King’s Run, Tsujo’s statements concerning Alvida, and each failure that had allowed him to rejoin the Buggy Pirates.

The section for distinguishing features stopped her pen. Tsujo's body offered an identifying trait more reliable than height, hair, or clothing. She described the extreme length and girth, the enormous testicles, and the public name already spreading through Loguetown. For completeness, she added his unusual endurance, the fact that he remained erect after ejaculating, and the remarkable volume of semen he produced. However obscene the account looked beneath a Marine heading, every detail was accurate and potentially useful for identification. The paragraph had become more thorough than the description of his face.

Before she finished the final line, her free hand had settled around her breast.

Somewhere ahead, Roronoa Zoro carried three Famous Blades. Tashigi had every professional reason to find him. The remembered shape of rain-soaked white briefs supplied a question that belonged to no report: did a swordsman who carried himself with such certainty also carry a cock worthy of it? Those ordinary Marines had offered no answer. Smoker had only made her more curious.

Tashigi pulled her hand away, capped the ink, and looked up in time to catch the bow drifting east. The strange curiosity following her receded beneath the immediate demands of pursuit. She tucked the pages beneath her arm and ordered the helmsman to correct course for the Grand Line