Ethan Chen had encountered plenty of bold, even domineering women in his time.
But none quite like Hina.
She wasn't just wild she rode him like a storm-worn mare galloping across the frontier, her movements full of grit and muscle memory. He half expected her to pull out a lasso and whistle like a cowboy riding off into the dusk.
And yet, her military rank had nothing to do with horse riding. She was a naval officer, not a mounted warrior. A southerner, if anything people more accustomed to ship decks than saddles.
But for Hina, such boundaries didn't exist. She took to her role with instinctive grace, hips and thighs commanding like a seasoned cavalry general. Any early awkwardness vanished the moment she figured out how to shift her weight, how to harness momentum. Then it was off to the races hooves pounding, mud flying, water crashing against the underbrush in bursts of kinetic rhythm.
Even with Ethan's prior experience, he had never faced such raw physicality. Hina wasn't just fit she was trained, honed, the personal disciple of Admiral Zephyr himself. Her control over her body was precise, merciless.
But flesh is flesh, no matter how formidable. And even someone like Hina, a Vice Admiral and a seasoned fighter, had limits. Her breath began to hitch, her movements faltered. Eyes rolled back, her body trembled as she teetered on the edge of exhaustion.
And Ethan?
His own eyes were wide, mind reeling.
It felt like someone had slipped the Monkey King's tightening crown over his body ring after invisible ring compressing tighter and tighter, from skull to soles.
Every moan from Hina's lips, every breathless cry, tightened the phantom coils around him like a cursed chant.
He couldn't help but wonder had she somehow used her Clamp-Clamp Fruit ability on him directly? Was this the Devil Fruit's doing?
Regardless, there was no escape.
He clenched his teeth and endured, praying for the spell to break.
But he'd overestimated his resilience.
In the end, under the full brunt of Hina's fervor, he crumbled. Defeated, cast adrift like a broken soldier on the battlefield.
Chest heaving, Ethan lay breathless, staring at the ceiling.
So this... was the power of a Devil Fruit user?
Terrifying.
It could rival even 2B's reproduction module just a different kind of horror. One constricted; the other devoured.
But both, he thought grimly, were utterly overwhelming.
Still, as he embraced Hina's glistening back and let the quiet of the aftermath settle over them, he found comfort in the warmth between them.
Her powers had faded with her consciousness. Like most Paramecia-types, her abilities were tied to her will. Just like how shadows returned when Moria passed out, or toys reverted when Sugar fainted Hina's shackles vanished the moment her mind slipped away.
And with that final act, he heard a new system chime:
Hidden Mission Completed
"Can't play both sides of the law? Then don't bother playing."
Objective: Seduce a Marine officer ranked Major or above and engage in a 'private exchange'
Status: Completed
Reward: +1 Mastery Point
A nice surprise. Almost enough to justify the bruised pride and aching limbs.
But Hina wasn't the only one on his mind.
It was time for 2B.
She'd been watching, waiting calm and distant, but her silence spoke volumes.
And when the shadows behind the bed curtain stilled, she climbed up and kissed Ethan softly. She pressed close, her frame warm and smooth against his.
Without a word, she nudged the dazed Hina aside and took her place.
But unlike Hina, 2B didn't move with wild abandon. She understood her weight. Her composition. She wasn't built to thrash and wrestle. She was a machine tempered by grace.
And Ethan welcomed it. His strength had returned, and this time, it was his turn to lead.
With every breath, every thrust, he pressed her down diligent, driven, relentless.
When Hina finally stirred, still dazed, she opened her eyes to see him again in motion. He looked like a dockworker hammering pylons into the seabed, rhythm sharp and unyielding.
She licked her lips involuntarily, then reached up, tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled him into a kiss.
She was rejoining the fray.
Ethan didn't mind.
He traced her waist, fingers gliding over the subtle swell of her hips. Then, unable to resist, he seized her breasts firm and supple like ripened melons and squeezed hard.
Back home, someone might've joked he was trying to crush them outright.
Too big for one hand.
Too perfect not to touch.
When he was done savoring them, he brought the two women together flesh against flesh, curve against curve. Their bodies moved as one, in rhythm and harmony, switching roles like dancers in a sacred rite.
By dawn, the air in the room had thickened not just from heat, but from the mingling of scents and sensations, the invisible residue of shared ecstasy.
It wasn't exactly pleasant.
Which is why, the moment she awoke, Hina got out of bed, threw open the windows, and lit a cigarette by the ocean breeze.
The night had been… wild.
Even now, memories of it still glowed behind her eyes, warm and surreal. Her body felt changed, tender in places she hadn't known could ache.
She smoked slowly, lips curved in a soft, wistful smile.
So this was what it meant to be truly satisfied.
She thought back to the rumors passed around at officers' parties. About that post-lovemaking glow. The moisture of joy or whatever ridiculous phrasing they'd used.
Turns out, it wasn't just talk.
Hina was glowing.
She was happy.
She even caught herself humming.
When she finished her cigarette, she glanced back at the bed before heading to the shower. Under the spray, she let her fingers run across her skin softer than yesterday, wasn't it?
Maybe it was her imagination.
Or maybe not.
Partway through her shower, the door opened.
She looked up. Ethan.
And not just Ethan Ethan in full alert, clearly raring to go again.
She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't last night wear you out?"
"Just need to take a leak," Ethan said breezily, but made no effort to leave afterward. Instead, he stepped into the shower with her, wrapped his arms around her slick body, and cupped her gently.
"Tell me, Commander Hina," he whispered near her ear, "was my performance up to standard?"
She leaned her head back onto his shoulder. "Why don't you just join the Marines? I'll make sure you're well taken care of."
"Oh? That clingy already?" he said with a grin, kissing her neck. "My answer's the same as last night. I've got my own path, just like you've got yours. So… thanks, but no thanks."
Hina opened her eyes, a glint of something dangerous flickering within. "You know… I really do want to collar you. Keep you by my side. Like a well-trained pet."
Ethan froze. She wasn't joking.
Or maybe she was?
Hina burst out laughing. "Relax, I'm teasing. Look at your face!"
"That joke's not funny," Ethan said, smacking her rear with a loud slap, leaving a red handprint behind.
Then he grabbed her nape, pushed her up against the shower wall. Her body compressed, her breasts flattened like overripe fruit between the tile and his chest.
A direct hit.
"For someone who jokes like that," he murmured, voice dark and low, "you need to learn who really ought to be collared."
He punctuated each word with a sharp smack.
Inside and out, he left his mark.