Tite Kubo owns Bleach and makes all the money from all things associated. I am definitely not half as smart as he is, OR EVEN MALE so no, I don't make any money from writing this.

warning, contains: cross dressing by a manly man, men who want to have sex with men, exhibition, implied masturbation, perverts, comments that may offend feminist yaoi shippers, paternal angst,moral quandries, mentions of visual kei, mentions of J-pop and questionable use of a vacuum cleaner. Tite Kubo was not hurt during the making of this fan fiction, though he may have some opinions on his fans if he takes the time to read what I did with his creations in my free time.

Maid to Order

Yasutora stood in front of his full length bedroom mirror in the indecently short french maid costume dripping with ruffles from his towering head all the way to his muscular thighs. 'I can not believe I let myself be talked into such a humiliating situation.' he thought to himself as he took in the black and white details of clothing he would not have ever guessed he'd wear on purpose. 'Well, I should have expected something like this if Keigo and Mizuiro are involved. This is what I get for taking money advice from those idiots.'

It had started innocently enough, during lunch break at school, just like many a conversation did. Chad had tried to lie(badly, man, his poker face off that day) about skipping lunch because he wasn't hungry as he poured over the local want adds, secretly praying that he could get a new job that would let him pay apartment rent AND afford the quantity of food he needed to fuel such a formidable body. Mizuiro, master of lies himself, and who Chad secretly suspected was actually Loki in human form, took pity on him and insisted the tall classmate take at least two of the bento boxes his girlfriends sent with him that day. This seeming act of charity gave the petite youth a chance to see what part of the paper Chad had been looking at so intently, and (seemingly) promised that having so many girls to entertain, he could give his friend a surefire way to make quick cash. To top it off, Keigo, the boy who still believed everything on TV was true and had the work ethic of an old stoner, promised it was so easy that even he could do it.

The only rational explanations Yasutora could come up with for his typically good intuition not warning him off of the whole mess was that one or both of those tasty bento boxes must have been drugged or it was that or his blood sugar levels were near lethally low from money trouble for his better judgment to kick in. He not only allowed himself to be signed up to a naughty web cam site, he also allowed Mizuiro to convince him to wear what amounted to a woman's porn costume. There also probably would have been more vehement protest on his part on the later, but the shock of being handed such a garment that was (almost) his size left him speechless. To add to the shock value, the small boy also provided him with a white lace thong that (barley) accommodated his (not so modest) groin because, as Mizuiro put it "Going no-pan is the only other option, it's in the contract."

To which Chad replied most clearly "No." There was going to need to be a much better reason for him to basically walk around bottomless than the possibility that he may get enough hits on his cam to cover a bowl of ramen.

'Show time! Let's get this over with.' the teen though to himself as he walked smoothly on his tall platform Mary Janes. Much as he was loath to admit it, they were in his closet collecting dust with all the other suspiciously feminine gear he had left over from a stint with a visual kei band. Though that stint did teach him how to walk like he owned the world in the most awkward of shoes and teach him respect for the lengths women went to abuse themselves for fashion, he suspected he would find once again that he was just to masculine to make androgyny work, only this time he had to put up with the surprisingly sandpaper like feel of a g-string before being told he was just not what the group was looking for.

'Maybe enough people will stop to laugh their asses off at me that I can get some rice from the hit count earnings.' he though to himself, trying to stay positive despite the situation. He logged into the site as "XXXotic_spice", a performance name that would lead to him (accidentally, really!) stepping on Keigo for the next month(or two). Camera set, speakers and microphone on, he then went to start up some music to work to as he went through the motions (well, ok, maybe for real, it had been a long week) of cleaning his living/dining/kitchen/study area in full view of the web cam (on his budget, it was a castle) while his too short hem rode up at every little move, leaving the vast majority of his cheeks in the breeze for the world wide web to see.

By some miracle, he even remembered that blushing or not, perhaps continuing to wear the look of a freshly soaped up alley cat on screen was less than professional, and made his best attempt as a friendly smile. Then he caught sight of what that looked like, and thought a petulant pout may look less threatening then the rather aggressive baring of his teeth that trying to smile actually leads to when he's in such a poor mood. 'It's just a performance, and may lead to food. I can do this.' he chanted in his head over and over, much like he had for dozens of other stage fright moments, hoping to lose the blatent discomfort that was all to clear from the monitor's display of his actions.

Little by little, the Aural Vampire in the back ground with it's upbeat tempo and super kawaii vocals helped to ease some of the familiar performance tension out of his shoulders as he began to forget the strange clothing and the potential for witnesses. He worked along, tidying forgotten philosophy and music books into stacks and collecting stray socks and other random cloths to dump in the hamper, he unknowingly started to sway his narrow hips a bit to the track. Forgetting that he also had a microphone that picked up sound from all over the house rather clearly, he also started quietly singing a base harmony with the vocals much as he would back up whatever band he could join. The small pings coming from the cramped study desk he kept his computer on had him temporary puzzled, wondering at first if a neighbor was using a cooking timer.

Then he realized there was an odd rhythm to the high noise and on a pass to drop pens off at the desk, he saw, to his utter shock, that not only was his view count in the hundreds but their was what looked like a bidding war on screen to try to get him to vacuum sans thong. The site color coded the private messages by gender, and one of the four men on his screen was even offering $10,000 American just to watch him do house chores without the vile garment that already did little to conceal what nature gave him. Other bids were in yen and British pounds, but they were just as nuts, looking more like offers made to hookers than what the teen would expect for a bit of video.

'To imagine, they wanted to see me?' he puzzled in his mind. 'I mean lets face it, with the lack of muscle mass and hair on the long side, Keigo and Mizuiro actually look girlish enough to pass as real cross dressers, but me?'

Then blushing like mad and fighting a stammer, he told the microphone "Show me the money and I lose the panties." letting the now seven interested men all think they were personalty addressed with one comment. The small box on the site that let him see when a given request had been paid for quickly jumped in digits as it pinged for 15 different donations. Humiliating as what he was about to to would be, at this rate, college was not a looming source of financial dread.

'They paid for a show, I may as well make it good.' the youth thought. Still fighting the embarrassment of the whole situation, yet a bit happy about finally being rid of the painful string chafing one of his most untouched places, he strolled to the middle of the room so his full body could be seen by his viewers. Slowly and far more confidently than he actually felt, Yasutora brought his strong hands up the ruffle topped stockings clinging to his thick thighs in a seductive caress. Continuing even higher as he let out a soft moan, fingers met bar skin as they slid further up. He finished the maneuver by dragging the short frilly hem up with the caress, leaving the whole of his back side bare except for a few dainty white strings.

Burning bright with shame, he gave the camera a half lidded pout and bent at the waist as he shimmied (thank kami for salsa dancing) his money maker while he hooked his thick thumbs in the waistband and worked the offending cloth, bit by bit, down his hips, down his legs, and all the way down his tall shoes without once letting go in a display of flexibility few thought to associate with a man of his dimensions. The erotic posturing continued as he slowly righted himself to step out of the white lace which he left in a heap in the middle of the floor.

He then walked over to the vacuum, much more comfortable with the gentle swishing of the french maid costume as it ticked the very top of his thighs, audience be damned. The fresh breeze coming up under the hem was rather nice without the constant sting of the undergarment. He turned on the vacuum and walked it right over to the tiny white wad and sucked it right up with no resistance.

The rest of his 'shift' passed quietly for the most part, aside from the occasional high priced request for him to bend over with is legs spread in good view of the camera, and given he was rather blessed, he could (sort of) understand both the request and the silence that followed. It still amazed him that any of the users would bother with him rather than the many more effeminate performers, but his house was clean, what little he had for dinner was cooked, and his money transferred in 24 hours of payments, so his kitchen was soon to be packed to the gills with any tasty thing his heart desired, so who was he to argue about good taste in perverted viewing.

Elsewhere...

Kisuke was still trying to get the blood cleaned off his nose, top, pants, and computer from the major circulation spike he had just experienced at witnessing the well muscled and broad chested friend of his best friend's son practically prance around in a very short french maid costume on one of his favorite soft core web sites. He was definitly not right in the head, but kami-sama help him, he did not really mind.

"It's always the quiet ones that turn out to be the wildest in the bedroom, isn't it?" he muttered to himself as he risked yet another nose bleed by musing over the bold display the mocha skinned youth offered the world as he pulled off the dental floss that passed for underwear these days. His mind was quickly filling with very devious ways of getting that magnificent body at his complete mercy. His task was forgotten and his hand slid into his still messy pants at the fantasies such an occasion could afford him.

And at Kurosaki Clinic...

The clinic tightly locked up, Isshin Kurosaki staid late to 'file paperwork, cough, cough' away from the potential witnesses that his darling children could become when he needed 'adult time'. The strong man now sat, too shell shocked to do anything about the mess of his seed all over his hands(and ceiling, and window). He had come to the understanding years ago that all women paled in comparison to his beloved wife, so if he was to have any outlet for his (still) energetic libido then he could only consider the periodic man as his potential lover, and the more macho samurai-type he was, the better. It had been a very,very,long time since he had actually taken a lover, so here he was seeking fantasy. It was by complete accident that his search for dirty video lead him to a beauty of a man, just his type with deep golden skin and rippling muscles as far as the eye could see and dressed in a maid uniform that was not even slightly street legal.

Of course, he came in right at the moment the gorgeous man started a marvelous tease for the camera that not only bared an ass that looked rock solid, but ended with the teeny white panties(he would kill his daughters if he ever though they owned such lewd clothing) coming off with a zipper ripping demonstration of just how flexible he was. Before thought kicked in, Isshin had his cock out and a mess to worry about later from one of the most intense moments of self pleasure he had ever had in his life, only for the young man to move close enough to the camera for him to RECOGNIZE one of Ichigo's best friends.

He was never going to be able to face his children again.

Kami-sama save him the next time there was a study group held at his house and Sado-kun showed up.

Maybe it was a good day to finally feel up Ryuuken and face the oblivion that was sure to follow antagonizing the senior Quincy.

And speaking of the archer...

"Pay up, Ryuuken. I clearly won." Uryuu snarled at his father in the lavish hospital office.

He had not typically been a gamboling man, but given the bets Ryuuken had made against his son, they seemed a sure thing. He continued to glare at the paused video footage on his son's laptop, seeing not one loss, but 3, and all in that frame.

"You bet me my emancipation if I could turn what you called 'a financial black hole of a web site' into something that could not only pay for my college tuition, but also cover back payments for all of my other schooling." the younger Quincy said with sadistic glee. "Thanks to Sado-san's popularity, I have. I took the liberty of drawing up the papers, you just have to sign."

'How in the world would I have ever expected such a common place perverted web site to flourish when so many failed in the first month. Leave it to his ingrate of a son to have the business instincts to be the exception to the rule.' the man fumed in the face of his loss.

"You also said that the day I can 'get a young man as dignified, obviously masculine, respectful and well mannered as Sado-san into one of those', as you put it, 'blatantly sexist, anti-feminism monstrosities without being at arrow point!', that you would co-sign the loan to start my web based clothing store featuring any designs I saw fit to sew. It looks like you bet on the wrong horse, but I have also brought you the required papers." Uryu gloated.

'How in the world had I been expected to know that the reserved young man would ever even think of agreeing to let someone make him look so utterly ridiculous, let alone on film.' the cornered father though, but he's be damned if he let his son have the satisfaction of hearing him admit to misjudging someone's character.

"And finally, I will be taking back my dirty magazine collection, since you told me that the day I proved a man with genitals of a size worth mentioning would wear a garment that was obviously designed to make women miserable and degrade them, I was welcome to them." the boy finished smugly.

The silver haired man glowered in frustration. 'At the time I made that statement it was because I was trying to teach my boy that a lover should be treated with dignity and respect, not dressed like a hooker and put into a lewd display for entertainment. To add insult to injury, I have a sneaking suspicion that the teen I was trying (and failing) to teach right and wrong to may just be wearing the very sort of things I had found so offensive in the first place, and this was sure to lead him to hoards of abusive lovers.' the father fumed.

Little did he realize that anyone who made the mistake of thinking one Uryuu Ishida defenseless was in for a long stay at his father's precious medical facility. He was, after all, not only a proud Quincy archer, but capable of besting one Ryuuken Ishida.

The next day at school, Chad was still puzzled by his success. He didn't have long to ponder since Mizuiro found him.

"Ohayo, Chad. Congratulations, you broke the site record for earnings last night, and with a pretty even gender mix too. And on your opening night, no less. You're a super star!" the boy stated brightly.

"Yeah, about that...we both know I looked like an idiot in that costume. So why would so many people pay for that?" the large youth asked.

"Well, as far as the men, who knows? You would think that if they wanted someone in a dress, they would just find a girl. For the girls though, I think it's feminist empowerment. You know, like 'Hey, now that we have organized a revolution, see how you manage in the role of a submissive slave to current fashion' kind of thing. That or it's kind of taboo now to view a woman in the role of an obedient house cleaner because it's degrading, but girls still want the sexy fantasy of the obedient maid cruelly used by the master so they use a man as a stand in." Mizuiro clarified.

"In both cases a male is degraded for his gender. That's appallingly sexist." Chad replied in disgust.

"Well, yes, but the costumers really don't like it when you tell them that and they ARE lining out pockets for things we have to do around the house anyway. It would be different if we had to have sex or something, but as it is it's mostly harmless fun for them and profit for us."

The bell rang for class, and Yasutora Sado was left to wonder at the sick world he lived in that found gender based degradation socially acceptable as long as it was the socially excepted gender you degraded.

Fin.

AN: Yep, this is my second time writing Chad. Given he is such a quiet character that the lack of information givse me a lot of freedom when trying to figure out what is actually inside of his head, so he is quite different here then in my last one, yet to the best of my ability, not actually OoC. If you feel I have miss handled him, please tell me what your support is and I will give it consideration. Additionally I did my best to fix all typos But did not use a beta reader, so if you find one, please tell me so I can go through it a FIFTH time.

I had some fun playing with the ramifications that can result in posting dirty video. Given Urahara's tendency to live in the moral gray, Isshin's devotion to family, and the family tradition of the Quincys to succeed at all cost while fighting like strays, I hope I was able to present a plausible fiction. I personally enjoyed taking a moment to consider how those of a paternal age may view some of the aspects of erotic mediums like photography, film, and writing in a serious manner.

This is also a bit more blatantly philosophical than my last Chad story, in part because I find many writers overlook how smart and observant he is and felt those aspect of him fit well with the concept. There were many things that brought me to the inspiration, including the all too common handling I see of the uke in fan fictions and discussions with other writers (You know who you are. See what happens when you make me think? I have to go and write about it as fan fiction and wonder if this story will even get one sad little comment from masses when the last HP work I slaved over didn't even get a review at all). The big point, though, that has set me in asking questions of how gender is handled in work that involves not only dominance, but out right abuse, is that in order for 'Soul Eater' to even be available on 'Midnight Swim', Crowna must be translated and voiced as a boy because he is abused, and if she is abused instead, we as Americans would be outraged.

So, I ask the reader, even if you lack the balls to leave comments, good or bad on the quality or content of the work itself, to take a moment to consider how we treat gender roles and if we are really equal in the age of internet.

And I ask the writer of slash to take a moment to consider the real reasons to write slash. Is it because you really want to see hot guys do hot things to each other, or are you just using the stand-in uke because you can't bring yourself to write a girl in his place? If it is the latter, why is it that you consider it OK for a weaker male to be bullied, but not a female?

Sorry for the long note, R&R and flames will tell me I got your attention.