Disclaimer:
I do not own Bleach, all characters herein belong to Kubo Tite. I don't make any money doing this either. I just enjoy manipulating my favorite characters to do my twisted bidding.
It just wasn't working. For an outfit like this you needed a model, not a mannequin. If you had even one strap out of place the whole flow of the outfit was ruined. But where was he going to find a living mannequin… Chad was far too big for this. Orihime had too much… Uh… Chest. Rukia was due back from Soul Society, but hadn't arrived yet. Besides, she was too short.
Suddenly an idea popped into Ishida's head and he went out the door with the half completed outfit and his sewing supplies. The model he had in mind would never agree to come to his house so Ishida must go to the model and use force if necessary.
--
"Man. I'm so bored!" Kon leaned back in Ichigo's chair. Ichigo had gone off on a Hollow hunt and Kon had taken control of his gigai for the day. Normally he would have all sorts of plans for what to do with Ichigo's body, but today he was at a loss. He tossed the magazine back on the desk and looked around. A knock on the door distracted him and he was startled when Ishida entered carrying a bag of God-knows-what.
"Ah good. You're here," the bespectacled teenager said pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I need your help."
There was no love lost between Kon and Ishida, especially after all the embarrassing outfits Ishida had made for Kon in the past. So it was natural that the mod soul would be wary of any further involvement with the Master of Arts and Crafts. He glared at the Quincy who was standing so arrogantly in the room he shared with Ichigo.
"Why should I help you?" He crossed his arms defensively.
"Because it would make Kurosaki mad."
The modified soul considered this for a moment. He did like to yank Ichigo's chain, but even so he wasn't about to say anything rashly or Ishida might sew him into another horrific ball gown. "Help with what?"
"Just a little fashion project. You're the right size, or rather Ichigo is, but he's not here right now so I'm going to use his body as a mannequin." Ishida started to move towards Kon.
"Oh no!" Kon yelled. "No way are you getting me into another dress, even if this isn't my body. I'm not havin' any part of that!" Kon jumped onto the bed intending to make a break for the window, but he wasn't fast enough. His super strong legs got tangled in the bed sheets as he reached for the window sill. Ishida moved fast and caught a hold of Kon's leg, pulling him back towards the desk. Kon's fingers gripped the edge of the window sill with all his might as he tried to pull himself away from the Sewing Sadist.
"Would you change your mind if I told you it wasn't a dress?"
"NO!" Kon made one last desperate scramble for the open window, but his grip slackened and he lost his grasp of the sill. Ishida's super sewing powers kicked into high gear and before Kon knew what was happening, he was being pulled back and strapped to the desk chair, tied down by yards of thin black thread.
"AHHHH! Let me go you pervert! What are you doing?!"
"Tch. Quit making such a racket. All you have to do is help me with a simple clothing project. Why are you making such a fuss?"
Ishida's cool collected manner was really starting to piss Kon off. He railed against the threads which seemed to be supernaturally strong because as much as he struggled, they didn't break. "Let me go you weirdo! You're nuts if you think I'm gonna help you after all the indignities I've suffered at your hands!" His mind flashed back to yards of white lace, pink frills and bouncing blonde curls. Even now those thoughts made him want to puke. No way was he going to relive that torment. He'd die first.
Ignoring the boisterous obscenities from his captive, Ishida set down his bag of supplies on Ichigo's bed. He made a big show of carefully laying out all of his tools; needles and thread, scissors, black leather straps and the half finished set of straps that constituted the 'shirt' he was trying to finish.
"Ok. Now, if I untie you, you're going to let me put this on you and you're not going to continue your insane ranting. If you do I might just slip and stab you with the needle."
"Like hell!" Kon retorted. He kicked his legs against the floor and tried to wheel away from his tormentor in the rolling chair. "There's no way I'm gonna put on something like that! I mean, what the hell is that anyways?! Some kind of sick joke? You really are a pervert!"
Ishida sighed and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Honestly." He watched Kon's desperate attempt to escape with disdain.
"I'm gettin' out of here! Cut me loose!"
"No."
"Grrrr. Let me go you - AAAAHHHRRRRRGGG!" Kon's shouting was cut short by the wheel of the chair catching on the rug. It tipped over, Kon and all, with a resounding crash.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," Ishida sighed again. He tipped the chair back upright and punched the flailing Kon in the stomach, hard. Out popped the little Soul Pill. Carefully, he placed it in a desk drawer and then cut the strings tying Ichigo's body to the chair.
"This will definitely make things more difficult," he sighed.
--
Ichigo had easily slayed the Hollow he had been after and whistled a little tune as he made his way back home. He only hoped that Kon hadn't done something lewd and offensive with his body that would get him in trouble.
The thought of what Kon could have done with his loaner body made Ichigo quicken his pace back home. Jumping in through the window he froze when he saw the strange tableau before him; his unconscious body was reclining in the rolling desk chair, black leather straps crisscrossed his torso and chest, and Ishida was kneeling between the legs of unconscious Ichigo. It was like a nightmare come true.
"I… What… I… WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Ichigo finally blurted out.
Ishida turned and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He hadn't been surprised by Ichigo's sudden appearance. The substitute Shinigami still had no idea how to suppress his reiatsu.
"There's no need to get hysterical. I needed a mannequin to help me with my latest outfit. Your body fit the bill, but seeing as how you weren't here, Kon was obliging enough to lend it to me anyhow."
"I'll kill him," Ichigo fumed. "But not before I kill you!" He lunged at Ishida, but the Quincy had anticipated this and booby trapped the bed. With a flick of his wrist the ends of the mattress came together, folding in half with Ichigo neatly sewn up between them.
"You bastard!" He railed, but there was no squirming out of it. Thin black thread had sewn up all three sides of the mattress.
"I'm almost done. Just wait there quietly, will you?" Ishida went calmly back to his sewing, blocking out all of his classmate's infuriated yelling. When he was finished, he slipped the outfit off of Ichigo's gigai, packed up his sewing kit and left.
It was several hours before Ichigo's little sister Karin found him sewn up in his own mattress. She heard him screaming half way down the block. When she opened the door to his room and saw the state he was in, she gave him a weird look and closed the door.
"I don't even wanna know," she muttered.