Dedicated to cp2lover who wanted an Ulqui/Hitsu.
…
Possess Me.
…
Toshiro shuddered, his lungs constricting as he fought for air.
His large, liquid blue eyes were half-mast as he stared up into the impossible emerald green, the warmth of the lean older male reminding him how he would never, could never, leave this life.
Ulquiorra pressed his forehead against Toshiro's, his hips working feverishly to bring himself to release. Toshiro whined, keening at the hot, slick pressure of Ulquiorra's cock as it found his prostate.
This was by no means Toshiro's first time, but when it came to Ulquiorra, every time felt like the first. They were little more than pets, pets at the beck and call of a master that was ruthless and violent when provoked.
He was a sadist, a megalomaniac, and a man with more money than God. It was how he had come to acquire such two fine specimens such as Toshiro and Ulquiorra in the first place.
Toshiro had always been small with delicate features and exotic looks. Bright white hair, a symbol of purity that was dirtied by the countless atrocities brought on him. He was a sex slave. He was no one. He knew this.
And yet the elder boy making love to him in this moment, even though it was under orders and for their master's entertainment and visual enjoyment, made Toshiro feel as if his doll-like existence was somehow blessed.
Toshiro whimpered as he bucked against Ulquiorra, completely overwhelmed in sensation, desperate to forget their master's eyes watching them put on such an erotic performance.
Ulquiorra's breath ghosted over his ear.
"I love you," he whispered, the murmur low so that only Toshiro could treasure the words.
Toshiro gasped, his entire body stiffening, the muscles in his lean legs locking into place where they had been wrapped around Ulquiorra's slim silky hips.
"Cuatro!" Toshiro screamed, knowing that if he screamed Ulquiorra's real name, that their master would beat them until they forgot what it meant to carry a human identity.
They had been dolls for so long that it was sometimes hard for Toshiro to remember their true names at all.
"Ten," Ulquiorra gasped softly, one of his hands running along Toshiro's sweaty neck before running through the slightly damp locks of natural white hair on his younger lover, his mouth feathering soft kisses across his face, lips, and eyelids.
Both lay there gasping, trying to regain their breath, Ulquiorra still buried ball's deep in his brother in captivity.
Ulquiorra finally pulled out carefully with a sickening slick feeling that left Toshiro burning in pain and emptiness, cum sticky and warm as it pooled beneath him on the cold marble floor.
Ulquiorra slid sideways, a long elegant arm wrapped protectively around the side of his head, their heads pressed together even though their bodies were lying side by side. Toshiro's body stiffened noticeably as they listened to the familiar, deep chuckle of their master.
"How adorable," Aizen drawled, his head resting on his knuckles as he regarded two of his favorite toys from his white chair several feet away. His white suit was impeccable, his hair slicked back in his classic style, his brown eyes consumed by a longtime evil that neither had ever come to associate with any kind of affection or kindness.
He was a sick man. A dangerous man, and they were his playthings whether they liked it or not.
"You didn't cry this time, my little snow bird," Aizen purred, slanting his head more to the side to regard Toshiro, "I wonder why that is."
Toshiro bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought to control his dangerous emotions.
It was true. Toshiro could not deny it, his pride be damned. Ulquiorra was the only one of Aizen's slaves that Toshiro didn't burst into tears with or scream in agony.
He was the only one that had ever been gentle with him, ever been kind, even if he had an emotionless face permanently marked by two trails of green ink that had been tattooed there for their master's enjoyment. He liked to decorate his favorite toys.
Better to decorate than to destroy.
"Clean yourself up. You look perfectly debauched."
Toshiro sat up shakily, brushing Ulquiorra's arm off to communicate to his master that he held no true feelings for the kinds of activities the mad man forced his toys into. Toshiro had to feign it, for both their sakes. But it wasn't true. As hard as Toshiro tried, he wasn't fooling anyone.
He cared for Ulquiorra more than was healthy. It was a double-edged sword. To have feelings meant he was indeed still human, still alive. Sometimes he wished he could be a mindless doll, a plaything with no regard to its safety. If Ulquiorra were ever punished due to Toshiro's actions or words, he would cease to exist.
Toshiro had given up trying to escape or kill himself years ago. There was no way out of this maze of a castle that their master had lived in for what seemed like centuries. Toshiro had no memory of what life was like outside the glaringly white walls.
Sometimes what happened inside the walls was such torture that Toshiro would just curl into himself and break into a million pieces, sobbing himself into a restless sleep that never satisfied.
A memory from the night before slammed into Toshiro's brain, nearly stealing his breath. It had been late, Toshiro's body sore and his breathing irregular as he fought off his nightmares. The rooms were bare with no windows, the doors locked from the outside, monitors and cameras constantly monitoring the caged pets.
But Ulquiorra hadn't cared, spooning himself against his soul mate and tenderly caressing his face, his shoulders, trying to ease Toshiro's anxiety and calm his fears.
"Even if he touches you, he cannot possess you," Ulquiorra had mumbled into his neck, "He cannot have you. I already possess you, body and soul. I am yours and you are mine. He cannot break you."
Toshiro was forced back into his hellish reality by the feel of a towel being pressed against his stomach and finally further down, cleaning up the evidence of their lovemaking. Ulquiorra's hand was steady, and Toshiro wasn't sure if Aizen had ordered him to do it while he had been caught up inside his head or if Ulquiorra was doing it out of some form of guilt.
The door to master's chamber opened, drawing both Ulquiorra's and Toshiro's attention. Chains rattled as the blue-haired pet was led inside by a white uniformed man with pink hair, a cruel smile on his face.
"The Sexta, as you ordered, sir," Aizen's butler and most trusted servant said, shoving the Sexta hard enough to make him growl in threat. He bared his teeth, all aggression and anger in a heartbeat. He was tall and muscular, obviously very physically fit and Toshiro felt dwarfed in his presence. He had a menacing aura and was nearly feral, making everyone in the castle wonder where exactly Aizen had come across such a pet.
He wasn't a pet at all. He was a wild beast, still being broken, but at this rate, Toshiro wondered if he would ever be tamed.
Szayel attached the shackles to an iron ring on the wall before bowing to Aizen and making a swift exit, closing the door quietly behind him.
Aizen's eyes settled on Ulquiorra, making Toshiro's gut roll, razorblades tearing at his gut as he realized what the sadist was planning.
"Cuatro, make your brother Sexta cum," Aizen ordered in a lazy drawl.
Toshiro's skin prickled as he fought a growl, wishing Szayel had taken him away from the room.
Even if he knew what would have happened behind the closed doors, even though he knew, deep down, what Ulquiorra endured under the tyrant's gaze and sadistic smirk…he didn't want to see…
He's mine.
The thought was desperate and angry and agonizing all at the same time.
Ulquiorra shifted to stand, naked as the day he was born as he turned towards the chained Sexta who was glaring daggers back at him.
Toshiro's throat constricted as Ulquiorra approached him, his hands beginning to run soothingly through the Sexta's blue hair before moving to his shoulders and over his chiseled abdomen, eliciting a hiss and jolt from the enraged captive.
Ulquiorra's expression was dead, as if he were examining a petri dish, all motion and no thought or emotion.
Not like me. Not like when he's with me.
Toshiro closed his eyes tightly when Ulquiorra settled his mouth over the blue haired demon's now-straining length, gritting his teeth.
Then why does it hurt so much?
After a few minutes, Sexta was grunting and sliding around, straining against his chains as he allowed the fellow slave to give him release.
"Cuatro."
Ulquiorra lifted his head. Toshiro wished he would look at him. Just once.
"Ride him. And don't prepare yourself."
Toshiro grit his teeth, fighting panic and a scream.
Stop it. Stop it stop it stop it.
His brain felt like it was on fire as he watched Ulquiorra stiffen visibly, the first time he had ever seemed to crack a little under an order from Aizen. Ulquiorra had always been good at shutting himself down, acting like a robot when needed, but with Toshiro present for such a punishment…
Fuck. He's doing this to punish us, to punish my feelings.
Toshiro tried to change his expression into a carefully-bored mask, a face that belied his inner turmoil.
I'm dead. I'm dead. You can't punish a corpse, Aizen.
Toshiro let out a strangled hiss when he heard Ulquiorra's grunt of discomfort.
Look away. Look away, dammit. Don't watch this...I can't...
But he must. If he didn't, Aizen would only think of more ways to punish them for their insolence. He couldn't endure that. Ulquiorra didn't deserve that.
I should be the one being punished...it's my fault...I'm too weak...
Ulquiorra's body was shaking as he tried to steadily impale himself without preparation, the only lube being his saliva from the oral attention he had originally given the Sexta.
The Sexta let out a deep, shuddering growl, bucking his hips instinctually and impaling Ulquiorra further.
Toshiro could imagine Ulquiorra clamping his mouth shut as he couldn't see his face, trying desperately to maintain control even in such a situation.
"Come here, Ten," Aizen commanded, making Toshiro stiffen and his eyes widen in shock.
He crawled towards his master on his hands and knees, knowing it was a submissive move that would greatly please the sadistic psychopath.
Aizen smirked at him as Toshiro was now on his knees, his small hands resting on Aizen's knees, as if he were a dog begging for a treat.
Aizen ran his hands absently through the thick white locks as the sounds of animalistic lovemaking carried on behind Toshiro and in front of Aizen.
"Such a pretty pet," Aizen crooned, continuing to pet his head even though his eyes were trained ahead of him on the spectacle he had created for Toshiro's torture, "Even dogs grow attached to each other, don't they? Or are you simply in heat, my pretty little bitch? Shall I fuck you to show you your place?"
Toshiro nudged his cheek against Aizen's knee, damning his pride to the bottomless pit and praying to any deity that would listen to have Aizen's rage set on the young white-haired doll alone.
"Tell me, Ten, would you like that?" Aizen said, his hand grasping at Toshiro's hair so tightly he felt tears pricking his eyes.
Toshiro looked up, his eyes glazed as he regarded his master, "I am yours to do as you please with, Master."
Toshiro didn't know how he did it. He didn't know how he kept his mask in place as he heard Ulquiorra cry out and the Sexta howl, his chains rattling as they both found release.
"He cannot possess you. He cannot break you."
Aizen's grip on his hair slackened and almost instantly he began to pet Toshiro's head again, "Good boy."
Toshiro shuddered a sigh, continuing to sit nuzzled against his master's leg for what felt like hours, his legs cramping.
Ulquiorra's eyes were all Toshiro saw when he closed his own aqua pools against the cold reality of Aizen's dream world.
Instead of Aizen's hand he imagined Ulquiorra's. He imagined himself in a vast wasteland of white sand, the moon full as it loomed on the darkness surrounding the two lovers. They were free in the quiet night, no wind to betray them from each other, Uqluiorra's touches feather light and sincere.
Toshiro felt tears spill down his cheeks silently as he envisioned Ulquiorra's lips parting, murmuring words that were more true than the blood in the baby doll's veins:
"You are my heart. He cannot break what he cannot touch."
….
The End.
…
Please Review.