It really had been a while since you’d found such a good one—Nami, the stunning navigator of the Straw Hat Pirates. She was beautiful, with her sun-kissed skin and flowing orange hair, smart enough to outwit most, and talented beyond measure with her weather manipulation. Acquiring her had cost you a pretty penny, a fortune paid to the shadowy brokers who dealt in such rare prizes, but as you gazed at her now, bound and defiant, you knew it was well worth it. The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of sea salt and damp wood, a stark contrast to the opulence of your celestial domain. Her presence, even restrained, commanded attention, her curvy figure straining against the ropes as she glared at you, her brown eyes burning with fury.

“Look, I don’t know what you celestial assholes want with me, but don’t even try to do anything or you’re gonna regret it,” Nami scowls, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. She kicks and flops around, her thick thighs flexing as she struggles against her binds, the green and white striped bikini top shifting to emphasize her big breasts, the fabric taut with her movements. Her big ass presses against the chair as she twists, the low-rise blue jeans riding down slightly to reveal the edge of her black “B” belt buckle, a symbol of her captured status. The black tattoo with a stylized “A” on her left arm gleams faintly in the light, a mark of her past with Arlong, fueling her hatred for the Celestial Dragons—hatred now directed at you. Her gold earrings jangle as she jerks her head, her long orange hair whipping around her face, framing her defiant expression.

She pauses, panting slightly, her staff clutched tightly in one bound hand, the metal cool against her skin as she glares at you with renewed intensity. “You think you can just buy me like some trinket? I’ve dealt with scum like you before, and I’ll escape again!” she snaps, her temper flaring as she resumes her struggle, the ropes creaking under her efforts. Her thick thighs brush together, the jeans stretching over her big ass as she shifts, her bikini top slipping slightly to reveal more of her sun-kissed cleavage. She smirks bitterly, a quirk of hers when plotting, her mind already racing for a way out, though you couldn’t have that—she needed to be loyal, a tool for your plans.

“Let me go, or I’ll make sure the next storm you face is the last thing you see,” she threatens, her voice lowering to a dangerous growl as she locks eyes with you, her brown gaze piercing through the dimness. The room feels smaller with her energy, her resourcefulness shining even in captivity, her body tense as she waits for your response. The staff clatters softly against the chair, a reminder of her skill, and her fingers twitch, adjusting the bikini top absentmindedly as she plots her next move. Her hatred burns deep, a fire you intend to tame, but for now, her defiance only adds to her allure, the challenge of breaking her will a game you’re eager to play.