Day 49

The weights attached to Robin’s boobs were magnatized to the floor, making the two meat-baskets forcibly tug beneath her as she tried to frantically crawl across the metal room that was slowly filling up with water.

She could only crawl a few inches every couple of seconds, the sheer power of the magnets that were at the ends of her nipple piercings being too powerful for her to fight against while she had her seastone collar on.

All around her she heard laughing, male laughing at her expense, enjoying the show of the proud Straw Hat female struggling to move across the room. Most of them had their trousers around their knees, masturbating to the site and helping fill the room up with their semen mixed in with the water, some of their orgasmic strands even hitting Robin herself, making her wince in pain.

”Ha ha! Bullseye, bitch!”

She wanted to fight back, call him a piece of shit, insult him, tell them all off, but even without the ball-gag in her mouth, she needed to conserve her energy to get out of the room, the water now starting to hit her knees.

Noticing her concerned expression, the men jeered at her louder.

”You said you wanted water, cunt. Now you‘ve got it!”

They all burst out laughing as Robin tried ignoring them, focusing on moving the two metal blocks pushing her large rack down onto the floor as she grunted from the pain of her nipples being pulled so hard.

She never minded having such a large set of breasts, usually being just a minor inconvenience for the woman, but now, she hated them. She hated how large they were, how it was all people could look at when they talked to her, how much Mason and his cult played and abused them since they got to the island. She didn’t want them anymore; she hated having tits that made her a target for men, she hated having a dripping wet pussy that went against her thoughts, she hated having such a skinny waist and small muscles.

Robin didn’t know if it was her misfortune that was making her think this, but the messages the cult had been shoving into her head was starting to take its toll; she was starting to hate being a woman.

She started to inch closer to the exit while the water started to float near her neck, almost out of the horrendous watery tomb the men were going to leave her in. She had finally made it to the outside of the room, her boobs still stuck to the floor by the magnets and her mouth trying to spit out some of the liquid that had flowed into her throat, catching her breath.

She would never ask the men for anything ever again.