Messing with Nami

The boutique’s air was warm, thick with the scent of fabric and faint perfume. Sunlight filtered through the saloon doors, casting golden highlights on the pristine white corset Nami wore as she examined herself in the mirror. The shopkeeper stood nearby, practically bouncing with excitement, his hanger-shaped hair bobbing as he gestured animatedly toward her.

“A vision! An absolute goddess!” the shopkeeper exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “That corset- no, that entire ensemble, was made for you! Truly, your assets bring it to life!”

Nami’s expression betrayed nothing but mild amusement. Her hands adjusted the black ties on the corset, pulling them snug against her chest. Her vibrant orange hair glowed in the sunlight, her sharp eyes scanning her reflection with the cool detachment of someone entirely aware of her allure. Even as the shopkeeper fawned over her, she remained the picture of confidence, her every movement deliberate, calculated.

She wasn’t tall like Alvida. Her body was smaller, leaner, more petite. That just made her chest look even more massive by comparison, like they might actually give Alvida’s a run for their money. That was worth verifying up close. The fur-lined cloak draped over her shoulders gave her this odd mix of elegance and attitude, but it was the kind of outfit that practically dared you to stare.

The shopkeeper’s hanger-shaped hair bobbed with excitement as he laid it on thick. “Such poise! Such beauty! The perfect embodiment of elegance!” he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and syrupy.

Her response was nonchalant. A slight tilt of her head as she adjusted the ties of the corset, her expression one of cool amusement. She knew exactly what she looked like and exactly the effect she had, but she played it as though the shopkeeper’s fawning was as inconsequential as a fly buzzing around her head.

It was the perfect time to test my limits.

I walked up to her, slow and deliberate, my eyes fixed on the way her chest rose and fell with her shallow breaths. She barely acknowledged me, a flick of her sharp eyes in my direction before returning to her reflection in the mirror.

I didn’t say a word. Instead, I reached out and grabbed her left breast, my fingers sinking into the soft, heavy flesh through the corset. It was a bold move, but with the Normality Earrings on my ears she wouldn’t find anything strange about it.

Nami’s gaze flicked back to me, one brow arched in a way that made my heart skip, but her tone remained dry. “Really?” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You couldn’t even wait for me to finish adjusting this thing?”

She brushed my hand off casually, like someone brushing lint from their clothes. Not angry, not alarmed, just mildly annoyed. A grin spread across my face. This was going to be fun.

Nami made a real performance out of trying on each outfit, slipping in and out of them with practiced ease. Every move she made, every tilt of her hips, every turn toward the mirror... was deliberate, calculated. She hummed thoughtfully, occasionally adjusting a strap or smoothing down a hem as though she were seriously considering buying something.

But I wasn’t buying it. Not for a second. I knew who she was, knew she was a pirate, and the way she held herself screamed that she had no intention of spending a single berrie. This was all a show, and the hanger-haired shopkeeper was eating it up like a starving man at a feast.

“Exquisite! Perfection! Truly, miss, you’ve never looked better!” he gushed, practically bouncing in place. “You have a natural grace! An elegance that makes these clothes sing!”

Nami didn’t even look at him, just tilted her head slightly as she adjusted the neckline of the latest dress. “It’s not bad,” she muttered, her tone dismissive. “But I’m not sure it’s worth the price.”

Meanwhile, I had no intention of just standing there quietly. The next few minutes were almost too hot and entertaining for me to handle, my big dick was like an iron bar pulsing in my pants. A casual flip of her skirt here, a quick slap on one of her tits there—none of it fazed her. At most, she’d swat my hand away or let out an exasperated sigh, as though I were a pesky little brother instead of a stranger groping her mid-performance.

“You don't have anything better to do?” she said at one point, brushing at my hand on her ass as I gave her plump cheek a playful squeeze. “I’m trying to enjoy myself here.”

I just shook my head with a cheeky grin and stood back to enjoy the show.

When Nami disappeared again behind the curtain of the changing stall, I slipped in right behind her, taking a seat on the small bench. She glanced back at me, her brow arching in irritation, but her hands didn’t stop working the ties of the corset she wore.

A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed it: Top Hat had followed her in, as if he belonged there. Nami's brow arched in irritation, but she didn’t bother saying anything. Of course he was here. It wasn’t exactly shocking that this normal guy had taken up residence in her changing space—it was just another annoyance to file away.

Her hands loosened the ties on the corset. The fabric slipped off her torso, leaving her bare save for her g-string, her large breasts bouncing slightly as she tossed the corset onto the hook. She caught him staring, obviously, but it wasn’t like that was unusual. She was used to men gawking. She reached for the next dress without pausing, ignoring him as she pulled it from the hook.

The boys are probably already causing trouble, she thought, her mind drifting as her hands worked efficiently. Luffy was likely gallivanting around Loguetown, probably making a beeline for the execution scaffolds, because of course he would. She scowled slightly, not at Top Hat. He wasn’t even a factor but at the thought of their captain’s recklessness.

And the bounty… That damn bounty. Thirty million berries. Luffy’s grinning face plastered on posters everywhere, as if he wasn’t already a magnet for chaos. It made things harder, for all of them. Every bounty hunter, Marine, and opportunist in town would be looking for them now. She sighed, shaking her head as she slipped into the dress.

As she tugged the fabric into place, she felt Top Hat move. His hands slid around her waist, fingers squeezing her ass firmly before trailing upward to her chest. She let out a soft sigh, more exasperated than anything else, as his hands cupped her breasts, kneading them roughly.

“Don’t stretch the dress,” she muttered, brushing his hands away briefly. He ignored the comment, of course, his hands finding their way back almost immediately.

Her focus shifted to his tailcoat. When he’d been practically embracing her earlier from the front to get his grabby hands on her butt it had given her an easy read on where he kept his money: a neat little stash tucked inside an inner pocket.

And those clip-on earrings? Tacky. Absolutely worthless, or close to it. But she could probably pawn them off on some fool for a decent price. They’d fetch enough for her to justify the effort, at least. He’d clearly been the right rube for whoever had sold him those gaudy things in the first place.

Pulling the dress down over her hips, she adjusted the neckline, her thoughts turning briefly to the Grand Line. It loomed ahead of them, a monumental challenge that she couldn’t afford to let slip from her mind entirely. But for now, she’d take this rare moment of indulgence, trying on outfits while the hanger-haired shopkeeper fawned over her like she was royalty.

The feel of the fabric against her skin was nice, a distraction from the constant chaos that came with being on the ship. A little luxury in the middle of her practical, day-to-day life. She couldn’t let herself linger too long, though. She had other things to think about, like how to stretch their funds for supplies without breaking the bank. She’d need to grab some charts too if they were going to have any hope of navigating the Grand Line, and those didn’t come cheap.

“Can you not?” she muttered as Top Hat gave her breasts another squeeze. It wasn’t like she was surprised, but it didn’t stop her from swatting his hand away again. “I’m trying to relax.”

He didn’t respond, and she didn’t expect him to. His presence was just another irritation, like a persistent fly buzzing around her head.

Thankfully the normal creep stayed behind as she stepped out to play the model for the pleasingly effusive proprietor, though she still couldn't wrap her mind around that absurd hairstyle of his.

Of course, she wasn't at all surprised when Top Hat grabbed her upon her return and pressed her against the corner of the stall. His hand clutched her throat, gripping just tightly enough to hold her in place as he crushed his lips to hers. The kiss was grinding, rough, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth with an almost greedy insistence.

It was exactly what she needed.

As his hand squeezed her throat and his tongue pushed deeper, her own hand slipped between their bodies. Her fingers moved with practiced ease, sliding into the inner pocket of his tailcoat and wrapping around the weighty pouch of coins.

His grip on her tightened slightly, and for a brief second, she thought he might’ve noticed but no. He was too busy devouring her mouth, too lost in the moment to realize she’d just cleaned him out.

Amateur, she thought, suppressing a smirk as she deftly tossed her score onto her pile of clothes behind them without a sound.

When he finally pulled back, his idiot eyes glinting with satisfaction, she tilted her head slightly, her expression flat. “Feel better?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

He grinned, his hands sliding down to her hips. “A little,” he admitted, his voice thick with amusement.

“Good,” she said, brushing past him and grabbing the next dress, even as she smoothly kicked her bra-cups over his stolen money, “Because I’ve still got more to try on, and you’re in the way.”

As she slipped the dress over her head, her mind was already calculating. The pouch of coins wasn’t much, but it was enough to make this whole ordeal worth her time. She wasn’t about to walk out of here empty-handed, and if Top Hat was dumb enough to miss something so obvious, well, that was his problem.

Soon enough she was stepping back out to admire her cute fit.

The fawning from the shopkeeper was, as always, over-the-top. His hanger-shaped hair bobbed with enthusiasm as he clapped his hands and gushed about how the latest dress “elevated her natural grace” or “transformed her into a vision of elegance.” Nami played along, giving him just enough smiles and nods to keep him in awe. She wasn’t planning to buy a single thing, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy herself while she had the chance.

Soon enough, Nami stepped back into the changing stall, pulling the curtain shut behind her. She peeled off the dress she’d been modeling, tossing it onto the small bench before reaching for the next one in the lineup. This one caught her attention immediately. The fabric was sleek and satiny, a deep, rich red that practically screamed luxury. It was paired with delicate black stockings and garters—an ensemble that felt more like a courtesan’s uniform than practical clothing.

She smirked as she ran her fingers over the material. The dress was designed to impress, to catch eyes and hold them, but it was also clear that it could be shed in seconds. The undergarments, the stockings... they were the real show. What a ridiculous outfit, she thought, slipping it on anyway.

Behind her, Top Hat shifted on the bench, his presence as irritatingly constant as ever. She could practically feel his eyes on her as she adjusted the straps of the dress, smoothing it over her hips. It didn’t surprise her when he stood, his hands finding her waist as he stepped up behind her.

She sighed as his hands slid down, gripping her hips firmly before pulling her back against him. The soft curve of her ass pressed into his crotch, and she felt it instantly. A thick, unrelenting bulge straining against his pants. He ground into her slowly, his movements deliberate, as if testing her reaction.

Her breath hitched slightly as her cheeks pancaked around something unmistakably large. The bulge in his pants pressed against her soft flesh, his hips grinding lightly into her backside. She rolled her eyes, her body shifting just enough to regain balance.

That he was hard wasn’t exactly a shock. Guys like this always were. She’d noticed the tent in his pants earlier, but now there was no mistaking just how much he was packing. It was ridiculous. She’d seen Usopp and Sanji get stiff just from seeing her in a bathing suit, but this guy was on another level entirely.

Huge Dick, she thought with a smirk, mentally upgrading his nickname. It fit on more than one level, his obnoxious behavior made him a massive pain, and the actual contents of his pants seemed to back it up.

A few minutes later, Nami returned to the stall, her mind already half-occupied with tallying the shopkeeper’s potential weaknesses and planning how to stretch her newly acquired cash. She barely made it through the curtain before Huge Dick was on her again. This time, he didn’t waste any time with his usual groping routine.

He grabbed her roughly, spinning her around and shoving her up against the wall, his hand pressing between her shoulder blades to pin her in place. His strength was irritatingly effective, making her feel more trapped than she cared to admit. Before she could even let out an exasperated sigh, he kicked her heels apart with a nudge of his knee, spreading her legs just enough to make her blush with the audacity of it.

The unrelenting bulge in his pants pressed firmly against her buttcheek, grinding into her soft skin as he tugged her g-string aside with one hand. His fingers were inside her a moment later, thrusting deep and fast, the sound of her slick arousal filling the tiny stall. Nami bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the heat pooling low in her belly.

Her stupid body had apparently decided that all his squeezing and grabbing was a prelude to sex. She was hot and wet, her walls clenching around his fingers as he worked her over. It was beyond frustrating, especially because her brain was already taking the opportunity to wander.

Why can’t Zoro ever do something useful like this? The thought hit her unbidden, and she cursed herself for even entertaining it. That sword-obsessed lug was probably passed out somewhere, dreaming about blades and getting a hard-on for his stupid katanas. He wasn’t exactly subtle about his priorities. She’d seen him caress those hilts more tenderly than he’d ever looked at a woman.

If he had even a fraction of the nerve this guy had, maybe she wouldn’t have to put up with Huge Dick’s antics. At least Zoro had the muscles to back it up. But no... he was either sparring or passed out in a corner, his brain too dull to pick up on anything outside of a fight.

The comparison made her growl softly under her breath, more at herself than at her current predicament. She’d kill herself before she gave Huge Dick the satisfaction of thinking he was doing anything other than annoying her. But damn it, her body wasn’t getting the memo.

His fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot, and her knees buckled slightly, her palms pressing harder against the wall for balance. “Can you just finish already?” she muttered through clenched teeth, her voice dripping with irritation. “Some of us have things to do.”

She was trying to focus on her plans—her haul, the charts she needed to buy, the supplies they still had to secure but it was getting harder to ignore the way her body kept responding to him. Her stupid nipples were hard, and every twist of his fingers made her breath hitch, no matter how much she wanted to pretend otherwise.

This was fine. She could handle this.