Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite
Warnings:
This fanfic is the poor result of an amateur author's attempt to mix gaudy guro with raunchy fluff; it is advisable to have your tissue and vomit bag ready. Here are what to expect:
Overall - antiheroes; some swearing; near PWP with multiple hardcore yaoi lemons and reversible seme-uke roles
Part I—threesome involving hermaphrodism
Part II—death of a side character (OC); BDSM rape scene with sex toys
Part III—fighting with slaughtering and cannibalism between Hollows involved
Part IV—threesome involving sex in public and bestial copulation
Part V—fluff, somewhat lovey-dovey; happy ending
Reminder: the timeline takes place when Neliel was still the Third Espada; hence, Nnoitra was the Eighth Espada and Szayel was not an Espada back then
Author's Note: This fanfic is done for Midenigufutsu koyote's request. I'd be glad to accept correction for any mistake—be it spelling, punctuation, grammatical or misinformation.
I
"What are you doing?" Through the unlocked door, Nnoitra burst in, only to find a long-haired Arrancar kneeling on both knees while sucking Szayel's dick.
"You never knock, do you, Nnoitra? Or were you hoping to see something like this to begin with?" from his chair, Szayel made his reply without the slightest hint of annoyance; in fact, his mouth curved into a smile. Rather than ordering his servile attendant to stop, he put his hand on his subordinate's head to encourage the Arrancar to prolong the action.
Nnoitra's denial came with a snarl. "Don't put me in the same group as you, lunatic bastard! I have my own reason to come here!"
"Oh," Szayel smiled again, "What might that be?"
"Aizen-sama has ordered the Espadas to pick some Números as Fraccións," Nnoitra answered with an agitated tone. As Szayel made a gesture for him to go on, Nnoitra continued with a grumble, "As if I'd bother to waste my time on those weaklings!"
"So what do you want me to do, Nnoitra?" asked Szayel in a shrill, teasing voice.
"Just give me one of your inventions, dammit! As long as I don't disobey his order, Aizen-sama won't complain."
"Sure, I have plenty of experimental Arrancars. Pick your choice."
"I'm telling you to pick one for me!"
"You're ordering me around, Nnoitra. Tut-tut, that's not a proper way for requesting." Wagging his index finger, Szayel smiled sweetly still, so sweet that it indicated an arising danger. Szayel might not be an Espada now, but be used to be one, and it wouldn't be impossible to become an Espada again in the future. Besides, even though Szayel's rank might be lower than his own, a fight with his voodoo doll and broken organs was not something he considered as 'enjoyable'. Furthermore, he needed Szayel's help right now; revenge could always be dealt with later.
"Please," Nnoitra added, suppressing as much indignation as possible, though he had no success in concealing his irritated glare.
"That's better," remarked the pink-haired former Espada, eying the taller figure with an air of victory. He continued, "Now, back to business. I'd personally recommend an obedient subordinate, the one who can endure your temper and loyal enough to follow your crazy orders. Let's see … hmm, what about this one?"
"A female? I won't take that shit! Chicks aren't fit for battles; I thought we made that point clear when you agree to collaborate with me in getting rid of that bitch Neliel! Speaking of which, why do you need the whole month just to prepare such simple trick?"
"A simple trick?" Szayel retorted, obviously offended, "My illusionary trap is an advanced-level, multifunctional device which enables its controller to—"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can't you accelerate its production? I'm sick of seeing a female holding higher rank than me!"
"What impatience you've got here, Nnoitra; how unsightly!"
"Save your preaching on beauty for yourself! Are you or are you not going to prepare it?"
"Okay," Szayel adjusted his glinting spectacles, "As I said before, why don't you try this one? 'It' is not a female entirely; have a look!" Next, Szayel pulled his subordinate by the hair, gesturing the scarlet-haired Arrancar to withdraw from his member. "Turn around and exhibit yourself to Nnoitra, Odalis!"
"Yes, Master Szayel." The Arrancar rose from the floor and let the Octava Espada receive the full view of its body.
'So that's a male,' thought Nnoitra, 'It wasn't very clear before—' "What the hell!" Nnoitra uttered in disbelief as the Arrancar unzipped its one-piece garment: There was a female genital below the male one.
"Isn't my modification beautiful?" Szayel brushed his hand onto Odalis' body, snaking downwards, "Of course, I also added progesterone and estrogen. Bouncy breasts are against my concept of aesthetics, though, so I didn't bother to install them."
"You're damn twisted, Szayel!"
Szayel apparently took Nnoitra's words as compliment, for he grinned even wider. He then made the Odalis sit on his lap, patting his pet's body all over without taking off his white laboratory gloves. Odalis writhed as the tingling sensation of the fabric invaded his skin. His master sprawled his thighs and then stroked the erection in-between them with one hand and inserting double-digit fingers into the front hole with the other hand. The pet breathed soft moans.
The ex-Espada lifted the gynandromorphous Arrancar momentarily, only to drop his anal opening onto his own phallus. Odalis gasped. His creator did not become lenient; he plunged again and again. And again. Odalis' whispery moans turned into wild groans.
"I don't need a fag for my Fracción!" claimed the Octava Espada, "If you can't give me the one who's decent at battles, I'll search him myself, even if it means I'll have to uproot your lab!"
"Patient, Nnoitra! It'll demonstrate all its abilities one by one. Why don't you get along for now?"
"I'm not fond of shared properties!"
"Really? I thought you were more concerned about keeping your dwarf penis out of sight."
"Don't you cry when you see mine!" Nnoitra lowered his pants, challenged by Szayel's taunt. Sure enough, he wasn't all talk. Even the size of his dormant flesh was already impressive.
"But is it fully functional?" sneered the pink-haired inventor, hiding his excitement.
Without further ado, Nnoitra quickly pumped his shaft. As soon as it came to life, he jostled it into Odalis' front hole. The cunt itself had been wet from Szayel's earlier fingering. Nnoitra was far more violent than Szayel—Odalis' screams told them that. For quite a while, the Octava felt immensely proud of his superiority, pulling out only to thrust again, each plunge more vehemently than before. After several agonized squalls and a complete surrender from Odalis, the dark-haired Espada began to think that defeating someone who was without resistance was no fun.
Nnoitra looked at the Arrancar sandwiched between him and the ex-Espada, the bright lighting from the fluorescent lamps gave him a clear view. Apart from the additional hole, Odalis looked like a male. A beautiful boy. A bishounen. His skin was soft as his hair was smooth. His eyes were sparkling like rubies. His lips were as luscious as rosé wine. His pin bones were inviting him with the silence of their alluring shapes. But most of all, his expression was luring the Octava more and more, as though demanding, 'Touch me … embrace me … melt me … indulge me …'
Before he knew it, the Octava Espada had started touching the androgynous beauty. However, he did not care about this more than about how Odalis mewled under the pressure of his fingers. Really, if homosexual intimacy could bring him such soaring pleasure, he should have tried it a long time ago!
Nnoitra shifted closer, closing any gap between them; his body was now adhered to Odalis' and the androgynous Arrancar gasped at their body friction. The Octava no longer rushed his intrusions; rather, he made sure they were thorough—long and deep at times, interluded with short and shallow lunges.
Szayel participated from below. He held Odalis by both thighs, opening them for Nnoitra as well as rocking them back and forth for himself. At first, his pace and Nnoitra's desynchronized, and Odalis lost his paradise. At length, his pace synchronized with Nnoitra's, and Odalis regained his paradise.
"Aaahh!" The receptive Arrancar came first. His hands gripped both armrests of the chair hard enough to make his knuckles white. His milk-white semen was spattering Nnoitra's torso.
Nnoitra grinned widely. Very widely indeed. He then collected a sample of Odalis' seminal liquid with his fingertip and dipped that very finger into the mouth of the liquid's manufacturer. "Have a taste of your own cum!"
Odalis sucked Nnoitra's middle finger obediently, pleasing Nnoitra's finger with the curls of his tongue, his head gazing upwards in the process. Nnoitra took the chance to nibble on Odalis' Adam's apple, causing the latter to gasp.
As Odalis' front was so occupied with Nnoitra, Szayel chose to seduce Odalis' sides. He grazed the uke's left earlobe gently with his teeth while whispering words like "my pretty slut" and "wanton whore." His hands he left free to explore the sides of Odalis' diaphragm down to the flanks.
It was hard to decide which of the two contributed more to Odalis second erection: Szayel's ticklish stimulus or Nnoitra's intense groping. At any rate, Odalis didn't want either to cease. Both lower halves were connected to his, occupying both of his front and rear holes and engaging him with series of carnal onslaughts.
"Ohhhhh … Master Szayel … Master Nnoitra … more … more … aahhhhh!" The redhead surged to his peak again.
II
But before the Fracción had his fill, Nnoitra squinted briefly, and then ran his right hand through Odalis' breast.
The red haired Arrancar could simply stare at his new pectoral hole, from which the Octava Espada's hand emerged, grasping his heart and smashed it into smithereens. No sooner did his blood drip onto the ground than life had departed from him.
As Odalis dropped dead, Nnoitra declared, "I have no use for a Fracción who worships more than onemaster!"
"That's because I haven't modified its brain for your consumption; you are too impatient, Nnoitra! He would have been loyal to you and you alone otherwise! Now look what you've done to my work!" Szayel protested sulkily as Nnoitra pulled his hand from Odalis' corpse.
"Forget it; I can't use your creation! What a waste of time; now I have to—hey, just what the fuck are you doing?" Nnoitra felt Szayel's mouth enclosing his blood-spattered index finger. The bespectacled ex-Espada did not answer with words, but employed his tongue to whirl and twirl across Nnoitra's finger, licking the blood sensuously. When he was done with the index finger, he carried on with the middle finger.
Only after all the five fingers had been licked clean, did Szayel answer, "You messed up my creation before it finished its task. Surely you are not estranged from the term 'compensation'?"
"Don't you dare!" gnarled Nnoitra, but Szayel smiled meaningfully and slid his hand to bring Nnoitra's pants even lower than before.
Nnoitra opened his mouth to emit his Cero; to his dismay, however, nothing came out.
"Too bad, Nnoitra, I've set this room to nullify any reiatsu-induced ability the moment any Arrancar entered," taunted Szayel with a triumphant smile, "Now be a good boy and submit yourself to me!"
"In your dreams!" snarled the taller of them. If he could not use spiritual power here, he'd use his physique to bring Szayel somewhere else and settled their score there.
Alas, when it came to strategy, an impatient being like Nnoitra Jiruga was no match to the sly Szayel Aporro Granz. Whatever the raven did to get the pink-haired Arrancar out became futile. He was hoping to subjugate Szayel by brute force, but the ex-Espada was too elusive for his reach. Soon, the Octava Espada found himself entrapped in the cunning scientist's nets instead. But Szayel did not stop there.
The pink-haired Arrancar took a remote control from his pocket and pushed some buttons, causing four shackles to be lowered from the ceiling. Szayel then pushed some other buttons and the chains began to coil themselves around Nnoitra's wrists and ankles, hoisting him in mid-air, forming an 'X', face side down. Only then, he pressed another button to release the nets on Nnoitra's body, leaving these fetters as the only things that suspended the Octava in the air.
"Szayel, you man-whore cur, come here and untie me this instant!" demanded the Octava. The scientist did approach him, but took off his white gloves and utilized his pointy nails to shred Nnoitra's clothes instead. Next, he adjusted the string length with his remote so that Nnoitra's body was positioned at an ideal height for penetration.
"You will pay for this!" threatened the raven.
"Oh, save your preaching on retaliation for later, will you?" Szayel's voice was as frigid as a shower of ice in the open, but his nether region's invasion was as tepid as a lump of heated metal in the forge breaching Nnoitra's unprepared muscle. He relished the shudder and the way Nnoitra's body tensed up as a part of him went in.
"AARGH! You psychotic bastard!"
Apparently, Nnoitra's angry remarks only incited Szayel more. The scientist licked his lip; his prisoner was bared, helpless, and open to assaults. He started bucking his hips while enjoying the full view of Nnoitra's back and unmarred skin. In and out he went, spreading the cheeks of Nnoitra's rear as to provide wider aperture to prod his way in even farther. Szayel pulled back and pushed deeper, fucking him mercilessly, until his dick's thickness was embedded as deeply in the tense body as it could; Nnoitra's tight muscle itself held the heated flesh in place, making it firmly lodged inside.
"You … nggghh … swine!"
"You are like an abstruse wall I'm itching to break through. Your ass wraps my cock wonderfully tight; until a few minutes ago, you were a virgin in this area, weren't you?" Szayel sniggered as he made the inquiry, perfectly knowing the answer: Nnoitra Jiruga had never been at the receiving end, for he'd only had females before today.
Nnoitra didn't reply; he didn't move either. There wasn't much he could do while being tied up in such position. Although Szayel could only see his back, he could guess as much that, right now, Nnoitra's face must be displaying an utmost contempt.
"Your nipples are hard, Nnoitra. You are finally getting ready for me, I take it?"
"Shut up!"
Szayel moved faster, his hips snapping at a fierce pace. Leaning down, he bit hard at the taller Arrancar's back so as to make sure he would leave a mark. More than anything, he wanted to fill the slick, hot channel with his seed and complete his claiming—Nnoitra's taste of defeat.
When he came, Szayel spurted his semen inside Nnoitra's channel, groping the Espada's butts in order to make sure he received all of his liquid lust, down to the very last drop, and savored humiliation with every gush. Being superior to all of his Fraccións made him feel good, but being superior to an Espada felt way better.
Nnoitra gritted his teeth as he felt Szayel's overflowing semen streaming down his crotch and eventually pooling on the floor.
"Did I hurt you?" Szayel asked again in a false, shrill voice, though he changed his voice into a deep menacing tone for the next sentence, "I must have. I entered you dry, after all." Next, he added, whispering to Nnoitra's ear, 'But have no fear, I'll prepare you thoroughly soon, so you can get a firsthand experience of the difference."
"WHAT?!" Nnoitra's eye widened with shock. All those things he had been enduring were not enough?
True to his words, Szayel sauntered to a cabinet at the corner of the room. He took out a jar of ointment from one of its drawers and took his time unscrewing the jar lid playfully with his long, pointy purple nails.
"Asshole!"
"Hmm, I wonder, should I apply this to your ass hole with my fingers or with my nails…," Szayel remarked teasingly, "…ooh, I know, why don't I try both and let you familiarize yourself with the difference too?"
"You son of a bitch!"
Nnoitra hissed in agony as Szayel's pointy nails poked the walls inside him. Gradually, his rectal muscles began to relax to the ointment's lubrication and he felt all slippery in the inside.
Szayel inserted a suppository-type drug into Nnoitra's butthole next. It stung the Octava Espada with a fresh thirst—not a thirst for drink, but the thirst for sex. It was as if he had been bitten by some venomous creature, except that it did not spread any poison within him, only insatiable lust. His body was swelling with heat inside, yet strangely, he did not want any ice or air conditioner; what he desired was touch. Lots and lots of touches. And caresses. And gropes. Molestation. Penetration.
'Dammit, that Szayel bastard can actually invent something with fast reaction! If only he used this kind of speed for that bitch Neliel's trap instead!' But Nnoitra had no more opportunity to think about this matter, for soon a new wave of pleasure occupied his mind. Having removed his detachable nails, Szayel inserted two of his fingers into Nnoitra's opening.
Nnoitra shuddered. Thanks to the aphrodisiac suppository, he developed a certain addiction to Szayel's intrusions. He was even sure his back arched when the pink-haired scientist's third finger shared the occupancy of his hole.
"I'll fucking kill you!"
"Not today, Nnoitra. Not today."
Szayel covered Nnoitra's lips with his own and pushed his way in with a flick of his tongue. He licked the tattoo Nnoitra was so proud of—the number eight tattoo on the tongue—and the Octava did squirm.
"So, of all the finger movements I've done so far, which type do you like most? The wiggling inside your rectum, the curling, or the scissoring one?" Szayel inquired with a smirk.
"You must be mad thinking I could like any of those!" berated Nnoitra.
"No matter how much you refuse to admit it, you've began to enjoy and gradually crave for my touches," Szayel scoffed, 'You even let out a sigh of disappointment when I withdrew my fingers."
"IT WASN'T A DISAPPOINTMENT! IT WAS A FUCKING RELIEF!"
"Now, now, no need to shout. I get it. If you don't like fingering, we can always try sex toys."
Nnoitra should have known better not to tamper his debaucher's temper; now he reaped what he sowed. The moment Szayel opened another drawer, Nnoitra he could see restraints, leather cuffs, harnesses, leather straps with hooks, buckles and metal fastenings, collars with heavy buckles, some strange clamps with what appeared to be weights, gags with black silicone mouth bits and holes, blindfolds and metal cuffs, some smaller buckled gadgets with metal rings, and a whole arrangement of dildos and butt
plugs. It became no wonder Szayel that had so many experimental subjects.
The ex-Espada attached funny leather straps that had rings to highlight Octava's nipples, as well as testicle cuffs around his balls. However, the captor deliberately left out the captive's mouth gag, for he found Nnoitra's indignant yells enthralling. "Surrender yourself to me, Nnoitra!"
"NEVER!"
Undoubtedly, this earned Nnoitra pegs for his nipples and a ring for his cock.
"Abandon your obstinacy, Nnoitra! In this room, neither shame nor pride is needed." Szayel nibbled Nnoitra's earlobe after murmuring these words beguilingly.
"I'd rather die … again …than … follow … your order … SCUM!" Nnoitra struggled through the peculiarly intoxicating sensation in his prostates.
"Very well," Szayel pulled the rein of Nnoitra's collar, yanking him to meet the five lashes of his whip. Next, he extracted his Aneros—prostate massager—from Nnoitra's hole, "Let's try this one to tame you." He spread the cheeks of Nnoitra's bottom and inserted a Rabbit Vibrator—a penis shaped vibrating and rotating sex toy with a rabbit ear shaped stimulator attached to the shaft. It worked best with female genitalia, but it did not mean that it was inapplicable to the male one.
"Sensitive, are you?"
Nnoitra growled. Inasmuch as his mind wanted to refute Szayel's proposition, his body trembled with excitement in response to Szayel's sexual abuse.
All the rotating vibratory intrusions right after getting his prostates stimulated were too much, even for the eighth strongest Arrancar in Hueco Mundo. Nonetheless, his testicle cuffs and cock ring restrained his blood circulation. At length, he passed out.
But Szayel would not let his joy of torturing ended with his victim's swoon; he took off Nnoitra's cock ring and testicle cuffs before forcing the Octava to wake up with vigorous thrusts from his glass dildo, so smooth and slick that it glided fluently in and out the Espada's most private tunnel. A moan slipped from the dark-haired Arrancar's throat; even pride could only do as much against the persistent rubs of the intruding long, silky rod. Even though he clenched his jaw immediately afterwards, he was sure that a smug grin had already graced Szayel's countenance.
The anal beads' turn came next. "Hmm, there are eight balls attached to this toy, isn't it a nice coincidence, Octava?" Szayel whispered tauntingly to Nnoitra's nape, "It makes me think this device was created for you."
With these words, he cast a triumphant sneer and inserted the anal beads into Nnoitra—slowly but surely, one by one, taking his time to listen to each gasp that escaped from the victim's mouth. "There you go; all eight of them, Octava," he swaddled on his captive's rank. He twisted the anal beads in screwing motions with one hand and spanked Nnoitra's butt with his other hand.
"AARGHHH!" the Espada shouted, "BASTARD!"
"Yes, yes, you've told me that several times already, Nnoitra. My brain capacity is not that dim so as to require such number of repeats, you know," Szayel replied, faking a yawn. His next sentence, however, sounded much more enthusiastic. "Well, well, well, what have we got here? You come again, slut?"
Nnoitra let out an angry snarl as Szayel pulled the anal beads, accompanied by a distinctive squelching sound; all the eight lumps were thoroughly wet and sticky.
He did not know how many hours it would take for the effect of Szayel's aphrodisiac suppository to wear off, but even without it, he couldn't help wiggling as a new object now stirred his ass. 'What timing! Why must that pink-haired cur chooses to mess up with my hole now, of all time, while it was still twitching and throbbing from the anal beads' plugging?'
'Ngh!' Nnoitra gritted his teeth as Szayel pushed bumpy penis sleeved dildo deeper inside him. Those silicone lumps were hitting his inner walls really hard—harder than what he could endure without groaning in-between his laborious breathing. He was desperate to cling on something, but there was nothing to grip apart from his chains; he was still bound and suspended in mid air by Szayel weird fetters.
Subsequent to several experiments of sexual torture from bullet to egg sized vibrators, erotic electrostimulation and different types of dildos, Szayel shoved his own dick into Nnoitra once again. And, for the umpteenth of times, Nnoitra came.
III
Hours later, Nnoitra waddled onto the desert. His clothes were tattered. His ass hurt like hell. But none of these injured him more that the shattering of his pride. He remained indomitable till the end; Szayel eventually released him because some other inventions needed completing. But still…
He—the currently eighth strongest Arrancar in Hueco Mundo—had been raped by a mere ex-Espada in broad daylight … the sheer humiliation!
"Dammit! Screw hell!" he bellowed. He was the sole standing figure in that desert; there was nothing surrounding him but the sand and sky.
He, an Espada, was getting shame upon his head. No, he would not let it! Getting rid of Neliel can wait till later; for now, revenge for Szayel became his top priority. And for this, he'd need a vast spiritual energy to heal all his physical pains, as well as to enhance his power.
The Octava Espada placed his hand to the sandy desert. With his Pesquisa, he searched for anyone whose soul he could devour, so that he could replenish himself by means of Gonzui. He was desperate for the source of food; it did not even have to be a Menos; any hollow will do.
After just a few seconds, Nnoitra grinned: He gained more than he wished for. Seven hundred and sixty meters away from he was, nine thousand four hundred and eighty- three feet below, there were five Adjuchas-level Menoses hidden in the shades of the silvery quartz trees of the Forest of Menos. Nnoitra sped up to approach his source of food; using Garganta for such distance would be a waste of reiatsu in his attenuated state, so he used Sonído … though not without aches on his lower region.
The location where the five Adjuchases gathered was well hidden by the obscurity of the arboreal shades in the deep forest. This was the region where many a Menos Grande went astray, and Aizen, lacking interest in their limited power, just let them be.
Upon arrival, Nnoitra perceived one Número kneeling on the ground on both knees. He gestured no sign of resistance while being besieged from different direction by the other four; one was about to execute him while the rest were on standby to strike him down, should the worst-case scenario happen.
Nnoitra's enhanced Pesquisa told him that this kneeling figure was actually the strongest among the five of them. Had it just been three against one, he could still have won—which explained the reason why at least four Números were needed to guarantee the success rate of this execution.
'The four besiegers were by no means the Exequias, so Aizen-sama was not behind this,' Nnoitra deduced. 'They don't seem to try consuming that Arrancar for Gonzui purpose either; maybe he is some criminal who is about to receive death penalty. In that case, I'd better eat him first; he's quite such a high-level Número.'
The Octava Espada drew his crescent moon axe and began attacking the nearest Arrancar. He did not normally need any weapon to deal with mere Números, but in his currently weakened state, he would not push his luck.
The Número fell. Dead. Just from Nnoitra's single blow.
'So this is the gap of power between an Espada and mere Números!' Hastily the other three drew their weapons, but the kneeling one remained passive. It did not take long for these Números, however, to realise that their opponent was not someone they could subdue in their unreleased state; limping though he was, his Espada status did not change. Soon the three of them transformed into a cormorant, an alligator and a hedgehog-like figure, respectively.
While Nnoitra was wrestling the Alligator in a battle of pure Hierro strength, the Cormorant sneaked his way to target him from above with an indigo Cero blast whereas the Hedgehog showered him from the back with numerous spike-like Bala. Nnoitra grinned broadly. As if these insignificant fools could scratch his much prided Hierro!
At the same time, Nnoitra's three opponents, most especially the Hedgehog, were getting frustrated over Nnoitra's impregnable Hierro. The restless Hedgehog then drew himself closer to the Espada, hoping his attack would work better at closer range … only to find out on how mistaken he was!
Nnoitra gyrated Santa Teresa so that its huge crescent moon blade now faced his back, embed on the Hedgehog's neck, and thus decapitating him. Like a ripe fruit fell from the tree, his head fell dropped on the shadowy forest floor, leaving trails of blood on its track. The Hedgehog's eyes and mouth were still wide open, clearly not expecting that second death would take him this quickly.
Seeing this, the Cormorant withdrew in horror. With only the Alligator opposing him, Nnoitra overcame his opponent by brute strength. He squeezed the Alligator's resisting fists, crushing his knucklebones. When the Número shrieked in agony and lost the strength for further resistance, the Espada shifted his hands to break his entire vertebral column. The snapping sound of the ruptured bones—the enchanting melody to Nnoitra's belligerent ears—was interrupted by the Alligator's pained screams.
"Shut the fuck up!" the Espada seized the Número's tongue and pulled it hard, uprooting the pink flesh from the Alligator's mouth.
The Alligator's whole body stiffened and his eyeballs seemed about to pop out from their sockets, unable to vocalize the anguish Nnoitra was causing to him. His blood and energy were being drained. Pushed by the throbbing pain, he collapsed next to the piece of tongue that Nnoitra had ripped off—the tongue that had been his until the previous second.
Next, standing on the Alligator's diaphragm, and hence demolishing the Arrancar's spleen and ribs, Nnoitra hurled his crescent moon axe forward, piercing through the Cormorant's waist so that the Número's body was split into two horizontally. The jejunum unfolded itself and touched the ground prior to the torso it was attached to, accompanied by the victim's dripping blood.
Then Nnoitra treaded through the pool of Cormorant's blood to approach the sole remaining Número, who was formerly kneeling. He now stood and drew his sword, which uniquely looked like a combination between a chakram and a rapier. 'Crush, Verruga!' The next second, his long, cascading golden hair transformed into bristle whereas his small, delicate puerile built turned into a vast, muscular warthog-like one.
"Funny!" mocked the Espada, "Until just a moment ago, you were ready to die, but now you resist."
"I was prepared to give up my life on my master's order, but since you are not my master, if I am to die in your hand, at least I shall make it a heroic death—a death through battle."
"Interesting!" smirked Nnoitra.
The Espada charged, gripping Santa Teresa with both hands. "Who's your master?"
"I have no obligation to tell you!" The warthog dodged and counterattacked.
'This is getting even more interesting!' The Octava grinned again. He was planning to devour this Arrancar to replenish himself, but on the second thought, this Arrancar better suited to be his Fracción; he could always get the food supply from another victim.
From that moment on, the only sounds that existed in that precinct were none other than the rustling of the wind, the thuds of their weapons and the jostling of their bodies. With each movement his opponent made, Nnoitra's resolve was getting firmer: He desired this Número to be his Fracción no matter what.
Nnoitra swung Santa Teresa diagonally across his opponent's face, injuring his eye, though not permanently; the permanent injury came years later.
Despite the spattering blood on his face, the Número kept charging on. At length, his persistence fruited a result: He managed to cut Nnoitra's Hierro-clad skin. The cut itself was shallow enough to be called a graze rather than a wound, but this was enough to turn Nnoitra on. No Número had broken through his Hierro—ever!
Nnoitra gave out all he got for the next blow; he wanted to show his Fracción-to-be what he was made of. Parading his power, Nnoitra relied on brute force to win this Número over.
After receiving the Octava's full blow, the warthog warrior stumbled and tumbled upon the dark earth beneath him. He could not elude from Santa Teresa's reach; his Sonído could not match an Espada's, even a limping one. He could not withstand it either; his Hierro could not fortify him this far.
As he fell facing below, the Número could only see soil.
'Soil.'
'What a proper thing for a burial … ironically, a Hollow's soul would just disperse into thin air when it dies!'
Such was the fallen Número's thoughts when he heard The Octava Espada's steps coming nearer and nearer. The Número made no slightest resistance when the Espada grasped his forearm with one hand and swung the huge axe towards his head with the other. He had been ready to accept death; he would not scream and beg to be spared. Whatever the Espada did next to finish him off wouldn't surprise him, or so he thought.
However, the fallen warrior was wrong on the last subject: He was indeed surprised since the Espada did not behead him, but cut his streaming long hair.
"You've lost to me; therefore you belong to me now, Número! Your old self is dead, together with these strands of hair!" the fallen warthog heard his conqueror declare.
"That means everything about you, including your life," the Espada added, gripping the Warthog's tongue while he attempted to commit suicide by biting it off.
The Warthog did not yield. At present, he was biting his conqueror's hand in attempt to remove it from his mouth and continue to bite his own tongue.
"There is a difference between those who die in the enemy's hands and those who die in their own hands because they're afraid of something worse than death. What kind of hero treats death as an escape route?" Nnoitra's voice thundered through the silence of the forest.
The Warthog was too astounded to do anything. Blood painted the Espada's hand with streaks of crimson.
"You think all deaths in battle are honorable? That's just a lame excuse! You're afraid of submission to those who are stronger than you. You're afraid of admitting your own weaknesses. You're afraid of getting hurt for the rest of your life. You are nothing but a chicken-hearted loser!"
On hearing this, the Warthog warrior did not only loosen his dental grip, but also returned to his anthropoid form.
He then knelt to the raven-haired Arrancar, keeping his gaze at Nnoitra's bloody hand and his bite mark while declaring, 'I am ashamed of my rash behavior. I shall serve you with everything I have. Every inch of my body and soul belongs to you. From now on, I vow not to die but for you, Nnoitra-sama.'
'Every inch of my body and soul belongs to you'? Nnoitra stared at the youthful figure before him, "Answer me, whom did you serve?"
The youth's eyes flickered with a shred of hesitation. Nevertheless, deciding that his old master never specifically instructed him about the confidentiality of his ownership, he answered, "Szayel Aporro Granz."
"Why did Szayel want you dead?"
"Because I am his failed experiment."
Nnoitra squinted. He could not find any apparent impairment on the Arrancar. "What's your name, Número?"
"Back in the laboratory, I used to be called—"
"Hold it!" reproached Nnoitra, 'I don't want you to keep whatever Szayel gave. Your reverence should be reserved for me solely. I'll give you a new name…"
The Arrancar waited.
"Uh, it'll be …"
The Arrancar waited.
"Hmm …"
The Arrancar still waited.
"Argh, this is more difficult that I thought! It wasn't such a pain in the ass when I named Santa Teresa!"
"Tesera sounds nice."
"It's 'Teresa', idiot!" but then he said again, "Wait! Tesera … Tesura … Tesula … Tesla! I've got it! Your new name is 'Tesla'!" Nnoitra ended his sentence jubilantly.
"Thank you, Nnoitra-sama. It's a beautiful name; I'll treasure it."
Nnoitra looked at his new subordinate, but his attention was focused upon how the Fracción's luscious lips moved while articulating those words.
'Every inch of my body and soul belongs to you' Again Tesla's previous statement haunted Nnoitra's mind.
Nnoitra gave his Fracción one more penetrating look. He was tempted to inflict all the pains that Szayel gave him earlier … he wanted this Arrancar to undergo the same agony as the one he'd been through … only he couldn't. Those eyes, those innocent eyes, did not deserve such treatment. 'Szayel tried to get him killed; he's no longer Szayel's underling!' Nnoitra reminded himself.
'He's driving me mad; I gotta get him outta here.' "Your first order…," Nnoitra finally spoke, "… is to get me a source for Gonzui."
"Understood, Nnoitra-sama." With these words, Tesla darted away with Sonído.
Nnoitra only watched his new Fracción from the back. 'The way those hips move… how would they become when I'm the one who makes them move—on the bed?' The Espada shook his head. 'Hasn't the effect of Szayel's aphrodisiac suppository worn off?'
Minutes later, Tesla came back, not with Gillian Menoses, like what Nnoitra assumed he would be, but with an Adjuchas.
Tesla stepped aside and simply watched in silence while his new master was masticating the victim alive. He was neither excited nor appalled; such practice was not uncommon in Hueco Mundo. The victim had to be devoured alive since a dead soul would immediately vanished into the air. True, Yammy Rialgo, and perhaps a few other selected Espadas, could effortlessly suck multiple victims' souls through the air, but to most others, the only way to perform Gonzui was through cannibalism.
The degree of cannibalism itself varied from one Hollow to another. Szayel, for instance, preferred compressing his victim's soul into a sphere and chomping it like eating a big apple; eating it otherwise would ruin is sense of aesthetics. Besides, Szayel considered one victim to be sufficient at a time. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, on the other hand, would devour as many as possible to enhance his strength. He did not bother to transfigure his victims' shape either, but consume them as they were, tearing from limb to limb and gnawing each gobbet of flesh.
Nnoitra usually preferred a low quantity, but high quality victim—given that the option was available. Earlier today, he had been in a near emergency situation, so he would not have had the luxury to choose otherwise, even if he had to eat multiple low quality victims. Naturally, he was delighted that Tesla's ability to get him more than he asked for.
In terms of method, Nnoitra was no different from Grimmjow. Each time he caved his way in, ripping parts of his victim's flesh and sinews with his bare teeth, a piteous cry filled the air. These recurrent screams only fell to relentless ears. Tesla did not move from his spot, watching the scene unfold, while Nnoitra continued eating as if no life had still been struggling to survive from his predatory mouth.
Actually, there was no need to finish the victim's flesh and bone completely; Nnoitra only needed to find his victim's core, where he could then sip the soul. Gonzui was never meant to satisfy one's hunger; it was no more than a method to restore one' health or increase one's strength after all. However, Nnoitra preferred offal to meat, and therefore he dug in until nothing remained out of his victim's body and soul.
IV
Nnoitra wiped the remains of blood around his mouth with the back of his hand. Vigour had filled him once again. All the pains, most especially the one in his lower region, were relinquishing him.
The Octava used Garganta to reappear at the desert, just outside Szayel's laboratory. His new Fracción followed him without question. Nor did he protest when his master slashed a portion of the building with Santa Teresa. The sliced part fell to the side, just as easily as sliced bread fell upon the dinner plate, leaving the edifice with an additional aperture.
The pink-haired scientist came out from the freshly made opening; his dear laboratory no longer became a fully indoor facility now. "What insanity is this, Nnoitra?"
"Didn't I tell you that you'd pay for what you've done to me?"
"Oh that," Szayel leered, 'Didn't you take pleasure from our little activity? You were whimpering a lot back then."
"If it pleasures you that much, I'll let you feel the same!" Nnoitra snarled through gritted teeth.
Nnoitra then swooped onto Szayel, ripping the latter's clothes into tatters. Szayel did not object; a new set of clothes was a cheap price to gain the complete satisfaction from being fucked by Nnoitra's huge rod. He only remarked in an encouraging tone, "My, my what an impatient being you are!"
The ex-Espada put no resistance as the taller of them kicked him onto the sand, crouching on all fours. Nnoitra rammed his dick into Szayel's asshole without further warning, dry as it was.
"Aahhh!" Szayel did not hold back his moan.
'Something's wrong,' thought the Octava.
"Aaahhhh … aaahhhh! More Nnoitra! Give me more!"
'Something's definitely wrong here! Szayel is not supposed to enjoy it! DAMN!'
Nnoitra thrust and thrust without giving the bespectacled scientist time to adjust. He plunged his dick with all his strength and blood began to drip on Szayel's crotch, but he could still hear Szayel demanding for "harder," "deeper" and "more." Being at the receiving end did not bother Szayel at all. The Octava Espada grumbled. He could figure out as much that Szayel was rather mad, but who'd have thought the mad scientist was also downright lecherous and a sadomasochist too!
Their position right now was more like that of a master and his dog than anything else; how come the ex-Espada still enjoyed getting sodomized in this way?! Nnoitra shoved deeper, so forceful and dominating, that Szayel had to lie flat on the sand dunes after multiple spasms.
"Oohhhh! That's … what … I … mean … by … 'power.' Ahhh!"
Nnoitra shook his hips as vigorously as he could. More blood streamed on Szayel's thighs, but what he said next was "Mmm more … more … more!"
For a moment, Nnoitra did think of strangling Szayel so that his impudent mouth could no longer enunciate those vexing words, but then he managed to keep his agitation at bay: He still needed Szayel to get rid of Neliel. Therefore, for now, he had to settle with just pulling his uke by the hair as he spilled his seed inside.
"Get up!"
"What? Is it over? Aw, I want more!" the ex-Espada let out a sulking comment.
"Who said it was over? I'm just changing position. Now move your ass!"
Szayel brought himself to stand up. At the sight of a very limping scientist, his tormentor began to think that raping him was not a complete waste of time. With a sneer on his face, the Octava Espada elevated the bespectacled Arrancar, spreading his thighs as far as they could extend, and entered him hard again without further warning.
"Oohhh!" Due to the surprise invasion, Szayel ejaculated at last! As his semen was watering the sand below, he tipped his head back, leaning on the crook of Nnoitra's neck. This did not mean, of course, that the seme would let him go any time soon. Whether or not Szayel would ejaculate again did not matter as much as getting him a sore butt through excessive penetration; he wanted to torture Szayel, just as Szayel had excruciated him earlier. Hence, with his hips rocking back and forth, engaging Szayel's crotch, Nnoitra called out, "Tesla!"
His new Fracción executed Sonído right away and appeared before him.
"Bring as many Szayel's Fraccions as you can find over here! You can tell them it's Szayel's order."
"Hey," Szayel rebuked his seme, "What do you need them for?"
"You won't be satisfied with normal sex, but you will when several eyes are looking straight at you."
"Oh," Szayel approved with a perceptive grin, "How very thoughtful of you, Nnoitra."
As soon as Tesla left, the pink-haired scientist uttered in disgust, "Ugh, I thought I sensed a familiar reiatsu, and here he is—my reject. What did you bring that ugly creature here for? And you've even given him a lame name and cut his hair?"
"How come Tesla is lame? It's close to 'Teresa'."
"So that's how you named him. Bah, what a lack of naming sense you've got! Didn't you know that 'Tesla' derives from Slavic origin and it means 'from Thessaly'? It is also the name of a derived unit of magnetic flux density in physics and the name of an asteroid discovered in 1952 in astronomy. And, when used as a first name, it's a girl's name on top of that! I thought you hated females for your Fracción."
"Shut up, he didn't complain about it. Besides, for someone who dumped him, you sure yap a lot!"
During the few seconds of silence that followed, something flickered in Nnoitra's mind: Szayel's judgment of what was ugly and beautiful. Tesla was no less exquisite than the late Odalis. His hair was stirred by the wind like stalks of rye dancing in the field. His eyes gave out the color of mellow honey. His skin was as fair as satin.
"Did you consider him ugly just because he is not equipped with a vagina?" Nnoitra asked Szayel.
"No," the bespectacled scientist answered, "I was referring to his Resurrección—such a hideous warthog!"
Nnoitra smirked; Szayel never considered anyone brawny to be beautiful.
At this point, Tesla returned with more than twenty other Arrancars, who gathered to form a circle and witnessed their master being fucked just the way he normally fucked them—if not worse. Once again, Nnoitra found his Fracción's capacity in performing duties pleasing.
"You there," Szayel commanded the blond Arrancar, crotch still merging with Nnoitra's cock, "Join us!"
Nnoitra growled; this retro-copulation was not enough to bring Szayel shame and he even asked for threesome in public.
Nonetheless, Tesla did not budge. A smug grin occupied Nnoitra's face.
"Come here, Tesla!" Nnoitra called his new 'pet' and the pet obeyed his master at once. Without further question, Nnoitra commanded Szayel's reject, "Undress!"
Tesla's body was like that of a marble statue—calculated meticulously with exquisite details, with protruding lumps in all the right places and seductive curves to match his countenance.
Szayel ordered, "Suck me, Fracción!"
Tesla did not budge, yet again.
Wearing a satisfied smirk, Nnoitra told him, "You may."
Only then did Tesla abide to his master's bidding.
Having his underlings watch him while someone jamming his bunghole with at least eight-inch-long rod and his own shaft sucked by a veteran concurrently was no easy task, even for the sadomasochistic Szayel. It only took him minutes to squirm in ecstasy with seminal fluid emanating from his body, splattering Tesla's handsome face.
"Bad Szayel," Nnoitra commented teasingly, 'Look what you've done to my Fracción! Surely you are familiar with the term 'compensation'?"
Szayel gulped, but Nnoitra released him completely, dropping him on the sand.
"Punish him, Tesla…" Nnoitra went on,"…in your Resurrección state!"
"Noooo!" Szayel squalled, "Not that disgusting warthog!"
Tesla wavered with hesitation, but braced himself to draw Veruga. Nnoitra was his master now and therefore his command was absolute.
"Do it Tesla; punishment isn't supposed to be enjoyable!" affirmed the Octava Espada.
Thus, Tesla's restored his warthog-like form and bent to grab Szayel by both ankles and hoisted them, leaving his ex-master's head on the ground. He shoved his way inside without mercy, just as his master had instructed him. He used so much strength that Szayel could feel every thrust in his bones, groaning harshly when Tesla got him just right.
"Augh!"
Tesla's penis in his Resurrección state was two-and-a-half-inch wide and twelve-inch long; it was no surprise that even the master of sex, Szayel Aporro Granz, writhed in agony and ecstasy, screaming at every thrust. Pushing further and harder to go beyond well-known limits, Szayel met Tesla with every thrust. His legs spread wide, tensing to add friction. He understood well about the pain of being stretched and taken; yet, he really was beyond pain now.
'Oh, this rampant shaft … it looks ugly but tastes so wonderful! Yes! Just like that … fuck me senseless!' Szayel's pupils began to roll upwards; he would lose consciousness any moment now!
"Wake up!" a slap landed on Szayel's cheek. "Experience to the end!" Nnoitra said again, his tone full of pleasure from ragging the scientist.
Tesla kept pushing his way into Szayel's body, which writhed every time he jostled. It only took a few more movements for Szayel to release his load. "Aaaaaaaahhhhh!" Szayel grasped the grains of sand beneath him as he came.
Nnoitra sneered. It was Tesla's achievement, but it did not mean that he did not share the glory. He would not let Szayel go, though—not just yet.
Gagging the pink-haired inventor's mouth with his own dick, Nnoitra encouraged his Fracción to do the same with Szayel's lower mouth, 'There's no need no cease, Tesla. Carry on until you come!'
"Yes, Nnoitra-sama." Tesla obsequiously carried out his master's order, inflicting a new pain within Szayel. This pain was different from anal pain he was currently suffering; it was a mental anguish.
Of course, he knew that Tesla would have not fucked him in the first place, had it not been for Nnoitra's bidding. He also knew that Tesla would have done the same for him, had he asked, had he not decided to dispose of this blond beauty, had he treated his ex-Fracción better. And to think Nnoitra—who just happened to find him at the right place and the right time, instead of educating him for months—now owned this Fracción, Szayel could not help but felt immensely envious for the Espada whose phallus was presently engaging his mouth.
With this slanting position, his head stationed lower than his legs, and his blood circulation rushed into his brain, Szayel could feel the effect of getting his bunghole rammed to the core and his mouth fully hoed more intensely than he normally could. Panting, the bespectacled scientist looked at the two towering figures: Nnoitra was directly above his face whereas Tesla was above his legs. More heat was building inside him, culminating with the spurts of his own semen.
It was not until Szayel came for the third time, however, that eventually Tesla ejaculated.
The pink-haired scientist looked up at his crotch. He had never seen it bleed so much before. Even the blood from Nnoitra's penetrations earlier was nothing compared to this. The Warthog's huge phallus was still stuffing his hole, irrigating his channel with seeds as thick as gel, yet as fluid as water. All the same, another thick liquid travelled down his throat—Nnoitra's contribution.
While panting afterwards, the three of them started to notice the different range of reactions made by the onlookers—Szayel's many Fraccións. Some were excited, some disgusted, others looked blankly as though lacking comprehension, and the rest couldn't care less.
Szayel lay languidly on the sand. Tesla returned to his humanoid form. Nnoitra tried his best not to get hard again; the more he saw his Fracción's body, the more he desired to move somewhere private to caress him all over and screw him.
"Now that I've learned you are such a lewd Arrancar, Nnoitra, we should play more often," Syazel commented, all sated, while trying to get up, "You can bring your 'pet' too, if you want."
"And what makes you think I'll say yes?"
"Aw, come on, we all enjoy this 'sport'." Szayel caressed Tesla's butts, and upon seeing that the Arrancar made a jerky movement, he was tempted to lunge his own rod onto the gorgeous blond.
"No you won't, Szayel!" Nnoitra's pulled his Fracción behind him. His tone was harsh, rebuking, and, above all, menacing.
"What's the deal, I used to score him anyway?"
"Not anymore. Didn't I tell you that I disliked shared properties?" Nnoitra's tone was rising into a serious threat.
"Fine," Szayel replied dryly, "Go back to your den to hump him!"
Nnoitra smirked at Szayel's words, "As a matter of fact, I will." He then heaved Tesla by the waist and slung the Fracción over his shoulder before vanishing with Garganta, only to reappear in his own bedroom.
V
Without further ado, the Octava Espada dropped his new Fracción on the bed and tore his clothes to shreds.
"No more Szayel's remains for you!" A feral snarl punctuated the taller Arrancar's possessive remark.
After discarding his own clothes, Nnoitra pinned Tesla to the bed with both forearms overhead. Then, as he parted Tesla's knees with one of his own, the Espada began to stroke his Fracción's thighs and flanks. True, he was rushed by a blinding desire to pound his subordinate onto the mattress immediately, but he chose not to skip enjoying the luscious spoil of war, of which every part was his to explore.
He knew that all these were unnecessary, as Tesla did nothing to prevent him. In fact, the blond seemed neither eager nor reluctant. He simply lay there motionlessly, or, rather, emotionlessly. And it was this impassiveness that Nnoitra found irresistible. He wanted to conquer him, to get as close as possible to him with every part of his body, to subdue him in the name of lust, to sail the ocean of ecstasy with him! Besides, he had yet to give Tesla his reward for his multiple satisfying services.
Tesla did not close his eyes as Nnoitra's naked body descended upon his own; he resolved himself to witness whatever his lord and master was going to perform on him.
Lord and master? Perhaps these weren't enough. Let others think Aizen to be the God of Hueco Mundo; for him, Nnoitra-sama and Nnoitra-sama alone sufficed to be the world and its God!
For Hollows, breathing was optional; the souls of the dead did not rely on respiratory system to survive. When Nnoitra's fingers ghosting over Tesla's skin, however, what had been an option once again became a necessity. When the raven claimed the blond to be his own through recurrently tacit thrusts, no word was needed as a reply … only air.
Air was the one thing Tesla normally ignored in daily life. Air was the one thing he forgot after his human life terminated. But now, an entity named Nnoitra Jiruga was making him remember how to breathe again. At this precise moment, beneath the Espada's body, heavy breathings became his answer to his master's unasked question.
Having tilted Tesla's lower half, Nnoitra grabbed the blond's calves and nestled his face on the Tesla's now-elevated crotch. The Fracción jerked in surprise; his precious master's tongue—the tongue with the much prided Octava tattoo—was rimming his anal groove until it overflowed with dribbling liquid. Tesla had to bite his lower lip to keep his self-control. He could moan any second now and what if his new owner disliked the noise? Apparently, he bit himself too hard that he bleed.
His master grinned and moved to lick the blood on those lips. And although it was not that hard to guess what his proprietor was about to do next, the aftermath of this kiss was more overwhelming than what he expected: The single kiss brought him both joy and sadness—joy for the pure taste of it and sadness for the knowledge that he was not allowed to beg for more. This was a kiss of lust rather than a kiss of love; he knew that—or at least, he thought he knew that. All the same, this was the first kiss that his God granted him.
His supple flesh yielded to his master's molesting fingers. His muscled tensed as his lord inched his way in. He, whom Szayel had trained with numerous sexual experiments and debaucheries before the pink-haired scientist witnessed his warthog form, shuddered at this new master. Still, he let nothing but air to be the medium of conveyance that he welcomed Nnoitra Jiruga out of free will rather than obligation.
Nnoitra kept eyeing this new Fracción with surging interest. One moment Tesla seemed to be at the point of breaking under his bestial poundings, at another time, he seemed to be longing to be broken. His subordinate would not cry out his name or encircle his legs over his back or cling his hands to his shoulders; he would not demand anything; only received. Obeyed.
Gentleness was never part of Nnoitra's sex style. Nevertheless, today, with this intriguing partner, somehow he felt like savoring stepwise rather than crushing completely. He wanted this carnal activity to last as long as they both could take, rather than to die down after mere transient minutes. He wished to be drowned in this new pleasure.
Palliating his rough penetrations so that they no longer invaded Tesla's random interior with mordacious virility, but hit Tesla's most desirable spot with poignant accuracy, Nnoitra wore a contented grin upon perceiving the result of his doing. No matter how much Tesla accomplished to keep his façade of tranquil expression and to refrain from moaning, he breathed even more laboriously than before; these breaths could not lie about the level of pain and pleasure he was experiencing at present. The blond clenched his fists too, trying his best not to embrace the raven. He let himself to be taken but resist all the temptation to enjoy the course. This, this was indeed the ideal Fracción the Octava was looking for.
Tesla was very close to erupting. Back in the lab, he, as well as other experimental Arrancars, had been accustomed to Szayel's teasing—while the scientist was in a good mood—or sadistic treatment, often involving laceration—while the pink-haired psycho was in a foul mood. None of these could rival Nnoitra's intense gaze nevertheless.
As Nnoitra's fingers ran upon his neck and collarbones, Tesla looked at the figure between his thighs. Never before had the Fracción felt someone desired him this much. It was as though the black haired figure above him would not let him go, even if the sky of Hueco Mundo should crumble right here right now. The Espada's gazes did not promise affectionate words, warranty of loyalty, secure protection, or even comfort of any sort, but instead they lured him into the depth of an unknown abyss—a place he was sure he could never return from, once he fell, and yet so intoxicatingly inviting still. Whatever future this Arrancar was going to give him, he would not regret it.
The blond could not hold it any longer. Within seconds, he spilled his seeds, soiling his seme's stomach and the bed sheet alike. His lord smirked, but this facial expression was not the only thing he granted.
Nnoitra then caressed Tesla's right eye—the eye that he himself had injured—with care. This Arrancar was his submissive toy. A docile pet who was willing to be treated as his proprietor was pleased. A competent aide in battles. An entity whose lifelong devotion was at his lord's disposal. A subservient subordinate. His personal slave.
Satisfied with these thoughts, Nnoitra released his load inside his Fracción. He even jerked Tesla's thighs for deeper access, spelunking his penis into his Fracción's cavern as far as it could go. Tesla shut his eyes as he felt his master' liquid travelled inside his body. His back kept arching until Nnoitra's rigidity gave away, having completed the final squirt.
Tesla emitted a soft gasp. His lord's semen was inside him. This was a proof of their union, and he cherished the sensation with every fiber of his being, every speck of his existence.
When the Fracción opened his eyes again, he found his master grinning, sated, above him. For an unknown reason, he felt a mixture of elation and abashment. Impulsively, he averted his gaze from Nnoitra, wondering why sex never felt like this with Szayel or when Szayel ordered him to have sex with any other experimental Fracción for voyeuristic purpose.
Nevertheless, the Octava Espada was not going to leave his bashful Fracción alone. "Tesla," he commanded, "Look at me!"
"Yes, Nnoitra-sama."
As soon as the blond obliged, a surge of tepid air lingered on his face. He gulped; never before had he blushed simply by meeting someone's gaze. He wanted to close his eyes again, but dared not defy his master's behest.
Nnoitra smirked; his Fracción's expression drew him in … so innocent … so thrilling … so delectable! He began to devour him with ravenous kisses, with deep tongue penetrations, with finger caresses, with everything he had, with everything he could! This was the first time he seduced a nude male—proper male—body and he loved it, inch by inch.
A low whimper escaped from the Arrancar below Nnoitra, but he stopped midway, remembering he must notenjoy his sire's seduction. He should not! And yet, he could not help preventing his lower flesh from hardening again, neither could his lord's.
Nnoitra smirked again; he had done a good work in teasing Tesla … and he would carry on! Rubbing the heads of their shafts, he interlaced his fingers with Tesla's and smooched his Fracción recurrently.
They came again, on each other's stomach this time. Nonetheless, the Espada still would not let go of his recipient. He simply lay there atop of him, resting his chin on the crook of his neck. He could tell how much his Fracción was tempted to envelope his arms around his back, but the blond forbid himself to do so, unless…
"Hold me, Tesla!" the Espada pronounced a permission that the Fracción was more than eager to carry out. He himself entangled his fingers in the blond's hair. Both drooped down to sleep subsequent to this.
An hour later, Tesla woke up and saw Nnoitra sleeping, no longer above him, but beside him. The blond got up at once. He did not want to leave, but he must know his place. He stared at Nnoitra's long, disheveled hair and suppressed his longing to touch those black strands spilling onto the bed sheet. His gaze traveled to the rest of Nnoitra's body. There were very few scars—not for his master's lack of battle experience, but as a solid proof for the toughness of the Espada's Hierro. Once again, Tesla's hand hovered a couple of inches above Nnoitra's sleeping figure, but he withdrew his hand mid-action.
'Thank you, Nnoitra-sama. You gave me the happiest moment in my life.'
Nevertheless, before he managed to relinquish the bed completely, he felt a tug on his right wrist. He swerved and, much to his horror, learned that it was Nnoitra who was detaining him. Tesla's mouth opened, but before Nnoitra gave him no courtesy to mumble an apology.
"I don't recall permitting you to leave," the taller man interrupted. With these words, the Octava Espada pulled his Fracción into his embrace. All. Night. Long.
THE END