WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A VERY DISTURBING NON-CON SCENE. PLEASE AVOID IF THIS WILL BE A TRIGGER FOR YOU OR IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE.
Despair Trilogy: Chapter One
The Darkness Within
By: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)
At first, Ichigo could only think of saving her. Seeing her bound and helpless, chained to the sterile white wall really had a bad effect on his psyche. He just couldn't leave her like that. He was the hero after all. Even if he had come specifically to save Orihime, he could never leave any of his friends behind. It went against everything he stood for as a person. Kurosaki Ichigo never let anyone down if he could help it.
The high ceiling and corners of the room were obscured by a seemingly impenetrable darkness, the only light coming from the two torches flanking Rukia's limp form. The whole atmosphere of the place made him feel strange. It was oppressive, like the stagnant air was weighing down his very soul. He shuddered and shook his head to clear his thoughts, his lips a thin line across his face.
Knowing full well it had to be a trap, he stepped past the arched doorway and into the shadowy room, breathing a sigh of relief when he wasn't attacked right away. He didn't let his guard down because of this, but instead scanned the room for any possible enemies or traps, finding none. Ichigo wasn't that worried about it anyway. He felt sure he could defeat any Arrancar that came at him; he had thus far and didn't expect things to be different now. He resumed his search for enemies half-heartedly, swiftly giving the space a second over. He'd much rather just rush to Rukia and tear her from her prison, but he had been learning to be more cautious lately. It was prudent with such powerful enemies around.
He reached the middle of the room, soft footfalls echoing in the open space, before he realized Rukia was bleeding. His eyes widened as he heard the steady plop, plop, of her blood hitting the hard ground. Even this far away, he could tell she was badly injured. Crimson rivulets ran down the side of her face and down her arms, turning the chains that crossed her body red with her blood. Her hair appeared to be caked with the stuff, sticking awkwardly to the side of her head. Her neck, he noticed, seemed to have several deep puncture wounds. By this time, he was close enough to see the numerous bruises that covered the rest of her body, turning her normally perfect skin all manner of colors. Ichigo cursed whoever had done this, a scowl darkening his features as he reached for her face.
He had never really realized how small she was until this moment, his hand on her cheek. Everything about her appeared fragile, from her petite waist, to her slender fingers, to her small, pink lips. He felt a stirring in his crotch at this thought and frowned, ashamed of himself. Now was definitely not the time for this. She was injured. He shouldn't be thinking things like this about her as she lay there limp and bleeding. It just wasn't right, wasn't him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ichigo thought he heard laughter and he cursed himself, gritting his teeth against the sudden pressure in his skull. He shook his head violently and wished he could drown out that little voice telling him he really was this dirty, this perverted, this wrong. Even a king had to listen to his subjects; he could do nothing about it. Rukia's eyes fluttered against his hand and she groaned, making him shiver.
"Rukia! Rukia, can you hear me?" he asked, trying his best to ignore his earlier thoughts. He brushed her stiff hair out of her face as she opened her eyes, bleary and unfocused. She blinked a few times, almost as if she was trying to chase away a bad dream, and finally noticed him.
"I…Ichigo…" she said, slowly, her voice thick with sleep. She blinked a few more times and he could see her eyes coming in to focus on him. "I'm sorry, Ichigo. You had to rescue me again." She gave him a sad smile, the corners of her lips barely curving upwards.
"Rukia, who did this to you?" he asked, his eyes hard. She opened her mouth to answer, then suddenly stiffened, wide eyes darting to the side.
"Ichigo, behind you!" He turned, but it was too late, the fist came out of nowhere and collided with his face, sending him sprawling into the darkness. His back hit the wall painfully, knocking the wind out of him, and he slid to the floor in a crumpled heap. He lay breathless for a moment before wobbling to his feet, looking around for who had attacked him. His eyes widened as he realized who it was. There, standing near Rukia, grinning in the dim light, was none other than Grimmjow Jaggerjack.
"Yo, shinigami. Took you long enough," he quipped, hands on his hips, cocky grin still in place. Ichigo rubbed a hand across his jaw where he had been hit and frowned when he felt the slickness of his own blood on his knuckles.
"You bastard. What have you done to Rukia?" he growled, his hands automatically balling into fists at his sides. Grimmjow's shit-eating grin seemed to get even wider, if that was possible.
"I had to do something fun waitin' for you. Ya took fuckin' forever to get here," he drawled, one hand idly playing with a stiff lock of Rukia's hair. Even from his position in the darkness, Ichigo could easily see the look of fear on her face. Head turned away from Grimmjow, she was shaking like a leaf. "She broke kinda easy though, I hope you can take more 'n her," he continued, bringing the fingers that had been playing with her hair to his mouth and licking the blood off, a strangely erotic movement.
Ichigo's blood froze at the words and he saw red. Quickly reaching behind him to free Zangetsu, he charged Grimmjow-or tried to; he only made it a few steps before collapsing to his knees. His zanpakutou clattered to the ground as he fell to all fours, coughing up blood onto cold stone, staining it red. He swore as he tried to catch his breath.
"The fuck did you do to me?" he rasped, trying to stand up, but failing. His muscles felt so weak, he was shaking. Grimmjow laughed, a harsh sound that echoed jarringly in the silence.
"Not me, shinigami. You got Szayel-Apollo and Aizen to thank for that," he said, still laughing as he sauntered over to Ichigo.
He grinned down at him before kicking him harshly in the ribs, sending him rolling toward Rukia. The impact left Ichigo stunned for a second, long enough for Grimmjow to deliver another painful blow to his sternum. Ichigo coughed violently as his bones shuddered under the impact, spraying spit and blood all over the side of his uniform and the floor. He tried to move, to do something, anything, but was unable to. His body wouldn't respond to any of his commands. Above him, Grimmjow cracked his knuckles, and Ichigo closed his eyes, bracing himself for a blow that never came. Instead, he heard a shuffling noise and felt the cloth tighten around his throat as his enemy hauled him to his feet. Grimmjow smirked, shaking him a few times. He grimaced as his head lolled back and forth with each movement of the Espada's hand.
"Fuckin' weak, aren't ya?" he asked, dangling Ichigo in front of him, his body limp like a rag doll's. "That gas's real effective against you shinigami trash." He snorted, lips twisted into a scowl.
"You look so fuckin' pathetic right now. I can't kill ya. Too much fun to be had first." The manic grin was back as he said this, and Ichigo blanched, unable to say anything. Grimmjow shifted his grip to Ichigo's neck and shoved him face first against Rukia, who had been all but forgotten in their short scuffle. His head connected with her chin-she let out a small grunt-and he winced as he slid down to rest on her small breasts.
Grimmjow came up behind him and he could feel the man palming his ass cheeks through his hakama. He swore into the soft flesh in front of him and tried to turn his head, with no success. The hand continued fondling him even as he heard a loud tear and felt the fabric of his hakama slip away, heard it fall to the floor. His fundoshi were next, and he felt the cold air creeping across his exposed flesh as they also dropped to the floor. He heard Grimmjow laugh as cold fingers traced his tailbone and dipped into the cleft of his ass. Ichigo fought to move as the fingers reached his entrance. Certainly, Grimmjow couldn't be thinking of doing that. His voice came out breathy as the first of Grimmjow's fingers pushed itself inside.
"The fuck you doing, you piece of shit Arrancar?" he bit out, his ass stinging from the unwanted intrusion. For this he got a punch in the back and he stiffened, coughing up blood onto Rukia, who gasped. She whispered his name, but he couldn't make his body work well enough to look up at her.
"Aizen'll be here for ya soon enough, so shut the fuck up and take it like a man," Grimmjow growled from behind him, shoving a second finger through his tight sphincter. Ichigo shuddered at the sensation, his ass tightening painfully around the intruding fingers.
"Get the fuck off of me," he yelled, his voice muffled by Rukia's body so close to his mouth. He felt the hands behind him hesitate, felt the fingers inside of him pause.
"Thought the fuckin' gas was supposed to take care of that annoying voice of yours." Grimmjow griped as he repositioned his hand to Ichigo's waist, using Rukia to carry the rest of his weight. Ichigo grimaced, opening his mouth to reply, but found he had no voice. His breath came out in a hiss as the fingers inside of him retreated. He almost felt relieved about this until he felt Rukia's body shift and heard her pained moan.
Ichigo somehow managed to shift his head enough to see Grimmjow busy digging his fingers into the wounds at her neck. He snarled as the hand flew back from his sight and he felt the fingers, now slick with her blood, enter his ass. The bastard was really going to rape him, and he was going to use Rukia's own blood as lube. Ichigo closed his eyes. He wanted to vomit just thinking about it. Inside his mind, he heard laughter and he gritted his teeth, shuddering with suppressed rage.
Grimmjow shoved a third finger inside of him, and began to pump all three in and out of his tight ass. With his face pressed in-between Rukia's soft breasts, and Grimmjow's fingers now stroking over that oh-so-sensitive spot inside of him, Ichigo felt the first stirrings of desire fill him. Despite his best efforts, his dick began to harden. Grimmjow seemed to notice this and he laughed behind Ichigo, the sound echoing off the hard planes of the room.
"It's a good look for you, shinigami. Gettin' all turned on by the thought of this girl's blood in your ass," he said, still laughing. Ichigo made up his mind then. He was definitely going to kill the bastard. For what he had done to Rukia and himself, as well as everyone else, he deserved it.
The fingers alternated between stroking his prostate and just pumping into him and soon, despite himself, Ichigo's cock was standing stiff, pre-come beading at the tip . Ichigo cursed at Grimmjow, but received no reply from the Espada. He heard the swish of fabric behind him, felt the retreating fingers, and knew without a doubt what would happen next. Sure enough, he felt a hand land on the other side of his waist and soon after that, an unfamiliar hardness against his asshole. Rukia's body was shaking with quiet sobs-he could feel the tremors quite clearly from his position against her chest. He almost cried himself, wondering what exactly Grimmjow had done to her to cause this drastic change in her personality.
His thoughts quickly became muddled as he felt the hard tip of Grimmjow's cock slowly enter his ass. He gritted his teeth, but was unable to stop the small noise that escaped his lips. The pain was immediate and sharp. Despite having been stretched, he still felt like he was being torn apart by the enormous thing pressing into him. It was far bigger than anything he'd ever experienced and it hurt like fucking hell. He felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes as Grimmjow pushed the rest of the way inside, deeper than anyone had been before. He had no idea they came that big. He would have said it was impossible until experiencing it firsthand.
Grimmjow began moving, slow at first, and then faster until he was making even Rukia's body shake with the force of his powerful thrusts. It was painful until Grimmjow, grunting like some wild animal behind him, hit his prostrate, then Ichigo himself began to moan. He tried to stop, but each time the hard cock of his enemy pumped into him, he was unable to silence himself. Rukia's breasts were so soft against his cheeks, Grimmjow's cock so hard in his ass, that he could feel the pressure beginning to build in his dick, could feel his balls begin to tighten in preparation for his orgasm.
As if sensing this, Grimmjow pumped harder into him, thrusts making him feel like he would explode under the pressure. Again, and again he pounded into him, and before Ichigo knew it he was screaming, hot come shooting out violently to hit the wall and Rukia's legs. Eyes rolled back into his head, mouth wide-open against her, he hardly noticed how erratic Grimmjow's thrusts were becoming. Gasping for breath, he managed to shake his head a few times trying to clear it. The man was panting behind him, harsh breaths in time with his inconsistent thrusts. Ichigo knew he had to be close.
Grimmjow groaned, swearing loudly as he came. He pumped into Ichigo's sore ass a few more times before pulling out, slapping each cheek, and letting him drop to the floor. The sound of laughter echoed through the room as he lay on the cold stone, semen dripping out of his stretched asshole and down his leg to pool on the floor.
"I guess you're good for somethin' after all," Grimmjow said, still laughing, his footsteps sounding his retreat. From his position on the floor, Ichigo tried, but still couldn't move. Rapidly cooling semen staining both he and Rukia's bodies, he had never felt more pathetic in his life.
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Notes: Written in 2007 for the original anon Bleach kink meme at LJ. This is the edited version but it still needs a lot more work. Unfortunately, I don't much care at the moment.
The violence isn't simply gratuitous. There is a point to everything, as you will hopefully find if you keep reading. If not, it is my failure as a writer to properly articulate my intentions. Whichever the case, death of the author takes precedence here and as always in my work.
