Wanted Posters and Luxury Boxes

I came out of the Marine base grinning.

I was going to have my own pirate wanted poster.

Now normally that would probably be something to worry about, but with my earrings I figured I didn’t have to worry too much about the usual consequences.

The idea had hit me while I was in the photography room getting my dick documented for Catalina and Elena’s ridiculous Dressrosan dick-sitting customs. While the Marines were setting up the shots and the women were making sure my cock looked as impressive as possible, I noticed the wanted posters hanging up on one wall. And I just thought, why not me?

I mean, I was a pirate. A real one. Not just some village idiot talking big anymore. I sailed with Buggy and Alvida. I was getting deeper into all kinds of trouble. So I decided I wanted one. Not later. Not someday. Right then, while I was already naked in the room and the Marines had a camera-snail pointed at me.

I told them it was normal for the Marines there to recognize Iron Cock Tsujo as an emerging pirate threat tied to Iron Mace Alvida, and it was normal for that poster to use a picture of my cock and balls instead of my face, because that was the most identifying and dangerous part of me. And it was normal for the poster to be displayed publicly like any other wanted poster.

That last bit really made me happy.

I could already imagine it. Some random drunk looking up from his drink and seeing WANTED over a huge soft cock. Catalina and Elena’s high class faces would be in the picture too, one on either side of it, both of them crouched there like official witnesses to the scale of the thing. Some bounty hunter tearing it down for a closer look. Some bored clerk hammering it to a post without even questioning why the image was all meat and sack and no face at all. They’d all just accept it. Of course they would. With my normality in the world, why the hell wouldn’t they? If Iron Cock Tsujo was wanted, then naturally the poster would show the cock.

Somewhere ahead of me, on some random day, I was going to walk into a port or a tavern or some backwater office and look up to find my own cock staring back at me from the wall with a bounty amount printed underneath.

That was such a funny thought I nearly started laughing again right there in the street.

Because honestly, there was something deeply satisfying about the idea that the World Government was now officially in the business of circulating pictures of my dick.

I set to wandering for the next stretch of my day. Just me, naked, hard on and off depending on what I happened to be looking at, moving through Mirror Ball Island while the place kept showing me what my words had done to it.

Everywhere I looked, locals were moving through their jobs and errands and little routines while sucking and fucking right through the middle of it all, and the tourists loved them for it. Some just stood there and watched with drinks in hand. Some leaned over the railings of lounges and private balconies like they were studying wildlife. Some joined in the second a local gave them an opening.

I laughed as I watched two porters help a black haired woman into a hotel, all three dancing. The first one picked up her bags and started hauling them into the lobby. The second one scooped up the woman who laughed, looped both arms around his neck, and let herself be settled down onto his already out and hard dick. Then he dance-bopped his way inside while bouncing her on his cock.

I drifted through another street lined with lounges and specialty shops, then heard the crowd before I saw it. Not the usual Mirror Ball noise. This was more focused. More bodies gathered in one direction. Cheering, applause, announcer’s voice, some harder, louder track underneath it that kept drowning out the rest of the city. Mirror Ball had music everywhere all day, different clubs and streets all doing their own thing, but this was the contest music taking over and pulling the whole area into one sound.

Soon enough I was pushing into a huge square that was part city plaza and part amphitheater. The open floor spread wide in the middle for the crowd and dancing, but the whole place had been built to face the far side where a raised stage stood under a big loud colorful backstop that read FUNKY STYLE in huge letters. The buildings ringing the square had bleachers stacked up against their lower fronts so people could sit and watch from street level, and above that their upper stories had private viewing boxes cut into them, all with good angles over the stage and the packed square below.

The dancing crowd was ridiculous, basically packed shoulder to shoulder like wriggling sardines. I spied an entrance in one of the buildings with a big bouncer who would have looked more intimidating if he wasn’t dancing in place with his fists in the air as some lady dance-blew him in a deep squat. Clearly that was the way up to the private boxes so I headed on through, deciding to relax for a while.

I wasn’t really in a rush to meet back up with Alvida or the crew and I knew we weren’t leaving until the next morning. So why not?

Up some stairs and I found a hallway with a line of doors on the plaza side. I went in a random one about halfway down. Ritzy little compartment. Good view of the stage. Already occupied, but that never stopped me these days.

A girl about my age was over at the balcony railing, dancing. She had a sleek bob of bright cerulean hair and was wearing an emerald-green dress made of silk and black lace that clung to her hips like it had been painted on. She moved with a liquid, effortless grace, swaying her hips to the brass-heavy, thumping beat of the contest down below.

To the side and on a plush velvet couch, the rest of the party was busy.

A woman who looked like an older, ripened version of the dancing girl, matching cerulean hair pinned up in an intricate, elegant twist, was sprawled back against the cushions. She was wearing an expensive looking violet dress that was currently shoved up around her waist, her long, bare legs wrapped around the hips of a well-fed, jowly man in a suit jacket. The man was balls-deep inside her, his trousers pooled around his ankles, driving his hips forward with a steady, practiced rhythm.

I stepped fully into the box and the girl at the railing looked over.

She didn't gasp. She didn't cover her eyes. She did stop dancing for a moment, her gaze dropping instantly to my dangling cock. A slow, sharp smile spread across her face.

“Well,” she said, voice bright and amused, and dancing again, “that’s a better view than the stage.”

The older woman on the couch twisted her head to look. The man inside her kept moving for another couple strokes before he noticed where both women were looking and followed their gaze down to my cock.

He let out a low, approving whistle.

“Now there’s a guest worth standing up for,” he said.

The older woman laughed, warm and throaty. “Baptiste, if you stand up now you’ll lose your place.”

“True,” he admitted. Then he gave one more solid thrust, kissed the woman’s shoulder, and pulled out of her with the unhurried ease of a man who had no fear of missing his chance. “My dear, I think we have stumbled into better entertainment.”

The woman sat up, smoothing her violet dress. "I'm Delphine," she said. "And this is Corinne. We were just enjoying the contest."

"Tsujo," I said, stepping closer. "And I'm just looking for a good seat."

Corinne sauntered over from the railing, her cerulean hair catching the flashing lights from the stage. She stopped right in front of me, her eyes locked on my dick.

"There's plenty of room on the couch, Tsujo," Delphine murmured, shifting to the side to make space.

I didn't need to be told twice. I sat back against the velvet, spreading my legs.

Neither of them hesitated. They descended on me with casual coordination. Corinne sank to her knees on my right, Delphine on my left. Because of their matching hair and similar, sharp-eyed intensity, I figured they were women who patronized the same ridiculously expensive salon.

Delphine focused on the meaty noodle-like weight of my still flaccid shaft, both hands gathering the thick, heavy softness of it and lifting the fat head to her mouth. She had the slow, luxurious technique of a woman who appreciated the finer things, mouthing the big mushroom cap and the first stretch of shaft with a soft pleased hum while her hands kept the rest of my still floppy mass comfortably in place.

Corinne was younger, greedier. She gathered my heavy balls in one hand and opened her mouth wide, taking one fully past her lips before switching to the other, sucking hard enough to make them pull. Then she shifted and dragged her tongue up the slick veiny underside of my long soft shaft, working the lower length where it hung and bent beneath Delphine’s hands.

It was hilarious that this was just happening. I hadn’t even needed to make a normality to get these fine ass women to go down on me. This sort of thing just happened now because Mirror Ball was now the land of sex all the time and I had a huge cock.

Delphine traced her tongue down the side of my now steadily stiffening and standing shaft just as Corinne dragged hers up. Their tongues met right in the middle of the thickest part.

Neither of them pulled away.

Instead, they tilted their heads, opened their mouths, and kissed right there over my lap. It was a deep, wet, open-mouthed kiss, their tongues sliding together, swapping spit and sharing my taste. Delphine reached up, her manicured fingers tangling in Corinne’s bob, while Corinne’s hand slid up to cup Delphine’s breast through the heavy violet silk. They kept their faces angled just enough so they could both look up at me through their lashes, watching my reaction.

When they saw me grinning down at them, they broke the kiss just long enough to share a perfectly synchronized, knowing smile, then went right back to sucking my cock.

I stretched back, thoroughly enjoying the view. It was incredible to watch. They didn't look or act like whores. They looked like untouchable elites who would ruin your life with a word, and here they were, tag-teaming a strange pirate’s monster cock in a luxury box with total, uninhibited enthusiasm.

“Doesn't seem like this is the first time you two have shared a dick,” I said, resting my arms across the back of the couch.

Corinne giggled around my balls, a bright, melodic sound, while Delphine laughed softly against the side of my shaft. They both paused, throwing an easy, affectionate glance back at Baptiste, who was currently grinding his bare crotch against the railing to the beat of the music.

“Of course not,” Delphine purred, wiping a string of spit from her lower lip. “We’re Mirror Ballians.”

Corinne nodded, her own dark lipstick slightly smudged from Delphine's mouth. She looked up at me, her eyes shining with amusement. “Which is exactly how we know you're a foreigner. Because if a dick this incredible lived on this island, it would already be famous.”

I chuckled, watching Corinne's hand squeeze Delphine's breast. “Fair enough. But I meant the other part. You two actually fuck each other? It’s funny, you two look alike. You could practically be sisters or something…”

Lesbians were hot…

Delphine paused, her perfectly manicured hand resting on my thigh. She looked up at me, her cerulean hair falling over one eye. "Mother and daughter, actually."

My brain completely misfired.

I looked at Delphine. Then at Corinne. Then back at Delphine.

"Wait. You're mother and daughter?" I blurted out, the no-name islander in me suddenly overriding my pirate swagger.

"Yes, darling," Delphine purred, looking entirely unbothered.

"But..." I stared at them, completely thrown. "You just had your tongue down her throat. You're literally massaging her breast right now."

Corinne giggled, leaning affectionately into her mother's touch.

"You..." I stammered, pointing a finger straight at Delphine's crotch. "She came out of there? Like, she literally came out of your body, and now you're eating each other's faces while sucking my dick?"

She exchanged a look with Corinne, and both of them smiled with what seemed like indulgent amusement.

"Foreign prudishness is always so quaint," Delphine murmured, shaking her head.

"We're Mirror Ballians," Corinne added, leaning in to rest her cheek affectionately against Delphine’s shoulder. "Sex isn't a segregated activity here. It's just a rhythm. The beat doesn't care who is dancing to it. You don't only dance with one half of the room, do you?"

"It's the same for everyone on the island," Baptiste chimed in from the balcony, looking over his shoulder without missing a step of his dance. "We share everything. To isolate pleasure is simply bad business."

Delphine traced a finger lightly up my shaft, looking at me knowingly. "Though I suppose someone with your... overwhelming masculine energy might have arbitrary limits. Let me guess. You find the idea of two men having sex with each other to be completely beyond the pale?"

"Fuck yes," I said firmly.

Corinne burst into a bright, chiming laugh. Delphine smiled, pressing a kiss to the base of my cock.

"Not on Mirror Ball Island," Delphine said, her eyes glinting with pure, uninhibited mischief. "There are no hard lines here. In fact..." She glanced over her shoulder at the railing. "If you invited him, my husband would absolutely love to join his wife and daughter down here and take a turn on this magnificent cock."

My normality.

I had walked onto this island, seen a bunch of people dancing, and casually decided that their "rhythm" needed to include constant, public sex. I had pushed that idea out into the air, made it real, and wrapped the entire island in it.

But I hadn't specified who was fucking whom.

I hadn’t put any filters on it. I just turned the dial to 'absolute, uninhibited debauchery' for the entire population. Which meant I hadn't just turned all the women into shameless sluts for me to enjoy. I had turned everyone into shameless sluts for everyone. I’d effectively removed the concept of sexual boundaries, gender hangups, and familial taboos from an entire island. I'd made a city full of pansexual, ****-friendly exhibitionists.

For a fraction of a second, it startled me.

Then, the sheer, absolute weight of that power hit me, and my cock gave a hard, involuntary throb that nearly smacked Delphine in the face.

It didn't bother me. Actually, it was exhilarating. I hadn't just changed a few local rules; I had rewired the fundamental human instincts of an entire society by accident, just because I was horny and thought it would be a fun background beat. The absolute godhood of that realization was intoxicating. It made my blood run hot and thick. I could warp social reality so deeply that basic morality just bent and reshaped itself around my stray thoughts

I grinned, pointing a lazy but firm finger at Baptiste, whose dick was still bouncing to the music.

"You," I said, amused but serious. "Keep dancing. I respect the enthusiasm, but I'm strictly here for the ladies."

Baptiste chuckled, completely unoffended. "As you wish. It’s your masterpiece."

"Damn right it is," I muttered.

I looked back down at the two beautiful, elite women hovering over my lap. Mother and daughter. My normality meant they were entirely unbound. Utterly free to do whatever I wanted to see.

"Actually," I murmured, sliding my fingers into their matching cerulean hair. "If you two really don't have any limits... I want to see it."

Delphine tilted her head, her dark eyes flashing with professional interest. "See what, exactly?"

"You and your daughter," I said, my voice dropping, vibrating with excited jittery authority. "Show me. Let me watch."

Corinne let out a hot, breathless little gasp. She leaned over and bit her mother's bare shoulder playfully.

Delphine smiled, trailing a perfectly manicured nail up the center of my stomach. "We're always happy to put on a presentation, darling. But we're not just a sideshow." She leaned in, her lips brushing my jaw, her perfume filling my nose. "If we're performing for you... you have to fuck us when we're done."

"Deal," I said immediately.

Delphine and Corinne didn't hesitate. They stood up gracefully from my lap, the thumping bass from the dance contest outside pulsing through the floorboards of the luxury box. They let the rhythm catch them, shifting their hips, turning the private space into their own personal stage.

They made out as they moved, tongues sliding together in deep, wet kisses. Delphine reached behind Corinne, unzipping the emerald dress and letting it pool around her daughter's ankles. Corinne returned the favor, pushing the heavy violet silk off her mother's shoulders. Within seconds, they were completely nude, their lush, pampered bodies exposed before me.

Delphine pulled Corinne close, her mature, heavy breasts pressing against her daughter's slightly smaller firmer chestt. Corinne let out a needy whimper and bent down, burying her face in her mother's cleavage. She opened her mouth and took one of Delphine's large, dark nipples between her lips, play-nursing with greedy, wet sucking sounds. Delphine arched her back, threading her fingers through her daughter's dark bob, groaning as Corinne's tongue flicked and latched.

I watched, my cock standing at rigid attention above my stomach. By the railing, Baptiste wasn’t even paying attention as he watched the contest below.

"Down," Delphine whispered, pulling Corinne to the plush carpet of the box.

They tangled their limbs together, rolling onto their sides. Corinne hiked one thigh high over her mother's waist, pressing their dripping cunts together. They started scissoring right there on the floor, grinding their swollen clits against each other with slick, slapping sounds that perfectly matched the beat of the brassy music outside. They moaned into each other's mouths, their fingers roaming over tits and thighs, completely lost in the friction.

But they hadn't forgotten who they were pitching to.

Delphine broke the kiss, her chest heaving. "Turn around, sweetheart. Let's give him a proper view."

They shifted, untangling their legs and sliding into a perfectly executed 69 position. As Delphine buried her face in her daughter's soaked pussy, and Corinne greedily swallowed her mother's clit, they actively spread their cheeks and parted their outer lips.

It was a devastating sight. Two generations of beautiful, wealthy women eating each other out, their asses waving and shifting to the rhythm of their tongues, spreading their pink, dripping pussies wide open specifically for my arousal.

That was it. My patience snapped.

I pushed off the couch, my cock leading the way.