Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach

Okay, so this would probably take place before Cut. It explains why Nemu has a choker.

I read a fanfic where it's because Rangiku was sort of flirting with Nemu, who was obvious to the flirtations, and Rangiku was suggesting that Nemu should have a red ribbon around her neck as it would make her look nicer. But when Nemu tells her that it would probably not be allowed because it would fall off during experimentations, Rangiku suggests that Nemu dares Mayuri to create a ribbon for her that would not fall off...

Um... I've just had a bout of inspiration for prompts. The next one will probably be a fanservice one involving Mayuri's scarf. And other one after that would either explain why Mayuri appeared so evil to us during the episode when he and Uryu confront each other or why he abuses poor Nemu.

Um... tell me what you think about this fanfic, whether it's good or not please.

Prompt: Choker

As Nemu washes herself late in the evening, that's the time when she thinks. Mayuri is not there to yell at her, to order her around, or to fill up her thoughts only with him. And she feels a little sad for that because she actually does like him around her, wants nothing more than to live and die with and for him.
He is in his room, exhausted from just a few minutes ago and is sleeping off his strains in his bed. Her own aches are similar but she has always been more flexible than him.

While she washes her long hair, the black of it sticking close to her body and the ends slightly tickling her wet flesh, she catches a glimpse of it in the mirror. His brand on her. His very first brand on her just as she had been 'born'. It's there in simple characters: Experiment No. 8.
She still feels slighty uncomfortable when she looks at it: where did the first seven go, she wonders time to time. Would someday a new Nemu be in her place, in this room and look at her own neck and think, where did the first eight go?
Thus, she doesn't like to think about it. It's only at night when she's about to sleep or is washing that she takes it off. Other than that, she must have it on, particularly now as she braids her hair and the back of her neck is more visible. Then the flash of red catches her eye and she feels easy at seeing it.

The ribbon, her choker, rests on the pile of her clothes. And so she thinks and she remembers that day when he had given it to her.

Within the first few months of her birth once she had manifested her own zanpakuto and was capable of basic function of any other soul and basic funtions of shinigami, he had taken to showing her off as his the ultimate fruit of his research and his capability of reproducing life(in unorthodox means).
That day, he had dressed her up like his very own doll. A simple dress that he had fashioned himself with the high Chinese collar. He thought it would suit her when they would go see the captain of the fifth division. Her hair was left loose and flowing down her back and she noticed that when they were alone, she would find his hands combing through the locks. She liked it, albeit she never voiced it.

The visit to Aizen-taicho of the fifth division had been more or less uneventful. She had been brought to show off her creator's skill in gigai and gikon technology and efforts and his talent for design. The gentle bi-spectacled captain had constantly complimented her, calling her beautiful and an amazing result of what the SDRI could produce. Needless to say, Mayuri agreed with his thoughts.
The visit had been short and so they went home, Mayuri both eager and dreadful of the piles of paperwork that awaited him, especially ones that requested that he give his reasoning for what had happened to some of the shinigami in his division, why there was a sudden spike in his funds, why was the quota not reached this month, etc… Already heading towards his office, he told Nemu to go change out of the dress and wear her uniform. Now was no longer a time for play, but some work had to be done or, as he said, "the first and ninth divisions would be after his head." Such a prudent lot when it came to paperwork, he added in before he left her.

On her way to her rooms to change, she came across Akon. He held a clipboard in his hand. They were alone in the vast hallway, a strange coincidence as nowhere was seldom empty. His eyes moved over her form and she noticed it sharply. They were standing a few feet apart, possibly one or two. She was not uncomfortable with the distance nor with him for Mayuri had often told her that he was one of the most reliable scientists that he had on staff and in the division. And so Nemu felt that she had nothing to fear from him. Yet she always knew that his stares to her were perhaps a little too long to think of as platonic and that his attention to her was sometimes more intimate than professional. But she did not want to think too much into that and just disregarded it as a mistake on her part.
He was without his cigarette that day.

"You look nice, fukutaicho." Akon complimented.

Nemu bowed to him, thanking him for the compliment, her hair spilling over her shoulders and dividing into two. Suddenly, she felt his fingers on the back of her neck. The sensation was hesitant, as though he was not sure that he should be touching her there. He should not be, she thought. She felt him trace patters on her skin, the hair on the back of her neck rose up. It was ticklish, his fingers were rough and calloused, ruined skin. Then without warning, she felt his fingers dip into the collar of the kimono. She did not jump up in shock, Reader.

She remained calm under his tips, slowly rising and confidently facing him. His fingers slipped away.
"Why did you do that?" she asked him. For she was curious to why he should touch her. Only one person could touch her in such a way and that was her creator: Kurotsuchi Mayuri.

His face was indifferent to her, save a quickly fading blush. He raised a pointed finger to her, "Do you know what's on the back of your neck?"

She shook her head, suddenly feeling quite stupid that she was not aware of something on her body when she felt that she should be.

He came closer to her, his fingers returning to brushing the side of her neck. "He marked you as his experiment. He's called you 'Experiment 8'."

To hear that from him disturbed Nemu. Never, even from Mayuri's lips, had she been called an Experiment. He had never even thought the word; instead calling her daughter or creation and other assortments of names. But never Experiment. And then to hear it from this subordinate's lips raised anger in her, but she masked it well as indifference. "Yes. There have been others before my result." she stated.

Akon shrugged his shoulders and she saw his eyes narrow. "I never thought that he could've achieved you in so little steps."

Her hand itched to at least grasp the hilt of the zanpakuto that hung on her back. She had just learned its name yesterday. In due time, Mayuri had told her, once she achieved Shikai he would introduce her to the Soutaicho and have all the captains and lieutenants of the Soul Society marvel at the power of his genius to have created her. Akon, on the other hand, had already achieved Shikai long before her creation. Faith, she had in her creator, she knew that it would be an unequal fight leading to her defeat. And to grasp the hilt would mark him as an enemy. He is no enemy, she thought and so had resisted the urge.
"Yet he did." she concluded, and not waiting for a response from him, she walked away. Nemu did not bow for caution that he might touch her neck again, her hair flew with her quick strides.

When she reached her rooms and changed into a shinigami uniform, she was aware that the irritation at the back of her head, the heaviness in her stomach, and how she was constantly recalling Akon's voice repeating 'experiment' meant that she was angry. She was angry. And strangely enough, her anger remained when she went to Mayuri's office, eager to collect the work that had been left for her.

He was working at his computer, the keys constantly clacking and never hesitating as though he knew already in pages advance what was to be written and recorded. On his desk was a huge pile of papers and forms that would have to be filled out by her and re-read. She had not noticed it of herself, but he did. As she was leaving his office with the armful of paperwork, his voice stopped her. "Nemu. Why do you keep touching the collar of your uniform? Stop it."
The sound of clacking keys had not stopped while he spoke. At the mention of it, she noticed that while one hand held the paperwork, the other was preoccupied with the tugging of her collar, pulling it higher and higher up her neck. The hand retreated and she apologized if it had bothered him.

He said that it did. "This behaviour of yours was well and all earlier, but now it has become something that irks me." Both of them were already aware of their shared empathy, though Mayuri had commented that it had become something of bother instead of a convenience. His moods were already enough for him to handle, he did not see why he should handle another's. She told him that it was nothing, that she would dispel it immediately.
But then he had argued that she was doing no such thing. That she was not even trying to calm herself down. He could still feel it all and it was even beginning to enrage him. If anything, she was relishing in her stupid anger and he demanded to know the reason for it.
Finally, she confessed: that the reason for her anger was that Akon had called her an experiment.

The clacking of the keys stopped. The chair whirred as he turned to face her. His eyes were bulging and then, indeed, Nemu felt his temper rising as her own did before.

"You're upset because he called you an experiment?" he asked, rising out of his chair.

He approached her and drew his hand back. Nemu flinched, afraid that he was going to strike her. Thankfully, the blow did not come and he was already at a great distance away from her at a separate desk in his office.

"Mayuri-sama…" she called to him.

He didn't turn back, he spoke as though it was to the air, but she knew it was directed at her. "I'm not going to strike you now, though I have enough reason to because of that awful pride of yours. Learn to be humble, Nemu. Because, no matter what, you are still a creation - an imitation of life, that I forged with my own two hands. And the others will always think that when they see you. You have no reason to get angry because they're right. But you did today and that is the reason for your punishment: impulsivity and poor judgement - barging in my office with a temper."

Nemu was awash with a great shame. That her father was right and Akon was right and she was stupid in having no reason to be angry. She nodded her head, "Yes, Mayuri-sama." There was a pause here as she took a step towards her father, "Excuse me for asking, Mayuri-sama, but what is to be my punishment?"

Then he turned to her, his eyes bright with something that she could not name nor did she want to name. It was dark, it was frightening, it was unknown to her. And then the shine disappeared and he spoke. "Perhaps I should beat that pride of yours out of you, it would put you in your place."

She shivered at the thought of a beating. Mayuri had occasionally administered such to her to help her with a tolerance to pain and rarer to his subordinates when they angered him and his temper had reached a boiling point.

He continued his thought, "But I'm busy right now, so I'm not going to use that as a punishment today. Instead, I want you to put in seventy two hours of continous training starting right now. You'll catch up with your paperwork immediately after the punishment. You've just learned your zanpakuto's name yesterday, but the time to learn it was barely adequate. Before the end of this month(only two weeks remained of the month, Reader), I want you to have achieved Shikai and have controlled it enough for it to be effective in battle."

A vigorous activity, but a punishment nonetheless. She was already anticipating the aches and pains in the aftermath of it, but saw it better than a beating. She nodded, "Yes, Mayuri-sama."
She was already on her way out when something told her to stop. Wait, as though the word was screamed out loud in her head. She turned around and saw that her father was facing her.

"Come here." he said calmly.
She strode over to him quickly.

From inside his haori, he pulled out a long red ribbon. It was a dark red, opaque in that it shone no light. He told her to turn around and raise her hair up to bear her neck to him. She complied. He wrapped the ribbon around her neck and she felt shivers from his touch. It was cool on her neck and somehow it made her feel secure in her place to him, whatever it could be. His short nails brushed by the skin and it tickled her. Excited, but she maintained her composure. He finished tying it, but his fingers lingered on her neck and she welcomed it, finding it more comfortable than when Akon touched her there and traced the brand. She felt his hand go to hers that were holding up the hair and she released the hold to let the raven locks cascade down her back. He brushed his hands through it and leaned forward.
She felt the inhale and exhale of his breath on the top of her head, the locks being pulled slightly by his hands as the fingers combed through the strands. "Now, he won't be able to see it." he murmured in her hair.

She didn't nod for fear of jolting him or bumping her head into his nose. "Yes, Mayuri-sama."

"Nemu. Only I can touch you there. Do you hear me? You were created for my purposes. Not for other men to play with, unless I order it to you."his tone had grown harsher, but she still felt his gentle petting on her head.

"Yes, Mayuri-sama. I would do anything for you, whatever you request of me." She felt him distance himself from her, the back cold now. She turned around, he was already back in his chair. She bottled up the wistful sigh that was threatening to emerge and instead approached his side.
Nemu bowed her head low to him, already having the urge to finger the red velvet around her neck to know that it was he who had put it there. "Thank you very much, Mayuri-sama." She felt his hand on the top of her head, smoothing her hair down. She looked up with grateful eyes and thanked him once more.

He nodded his head carelessly. Nothing more was exchanged between them and when Nemu could feel it, she got up and went to face her punishment to leave him to his work.

Nemu is roused from her thoughts simultaneously as the door slides open.

Before her is Mayuri, his golden eyes wide, clad in his sleeping hiyoku. His hair is messed up from sleep. The timing is perfect, her hair is washed and without any soap. She stands up and approaches him, greeting him, "Mayuri-sama."

There is the sound of her dripping hair on to the tiled floor, the black of it sticks to her form and acts almost as a cover for her breasts. The air is cold as the hot mist escapes through the door. She sees his eyes scan over her body, he breathes heavily though she knows it's not because of her appearance.

She can feel a sort of fear in him, an uneasiness. And anger, outrage. A nightmare, she presumes half-heartedly, though she doesn't repeat it as a question to him. Suddenly, he takes a step forward and then there is the sharp echo of a crack as his fist connects to her cheek. She stumbles back, the tiled wall of the bathroom supports her and she is still on her feet. He takes another step and while she is expecting a blow again from him, it doesn't come.

Instead it is his lips that come. He coerces her into a fierce kiss. And she is willing for him to do what he wants with her. He traps her, cages her with his arms, against the wall and the kiss continues passionately. His body comes closer, so does hers. Her arms come up under his and grips like a hook onto his shoulders, preparing for what she is expecting he might do to her. The wall is cold on her back, he is cold on her. She doesn't mind. From Mayuri, she feels need from him, yet not a need to be satisfied; but it is a need for reassurance.

She wonders briefly what exactly had happened in that head of his to have his sleep taken from him and comes here.

Then her mind is a blur as his lips leave hers and seeks out her nipple, playing with it in his mouth. The other is attended to by his hand and its eager groping. She moans and he bites down on the nipple, her claws dig into his shoulders. This time, he doesn't want any noise, she feels that request. She breathes heavily, keeping the breaths calm to not make any more noise again. This is not for her, this is for him.

His mouth moves up the heaving breast to neck. He sucks on the skin there and she has to bit her tongue to keep from crying out. Biting the magic spot, Mayuri meets his gaze with hers. She nods and her hands move to the hiyoku's belt. She undoes it and her hands return to their spot on his shoulder. The belt dangers from a futile hold. His robe opens. She brings herself closer to him if that's possible. He moves against her.

So, what did you think? Were they IC enough? Of course he doesn't beat her out of anger during the memory because it's in Cut that he hits her in anger and as punishment for the first time. It's after Cut that he begins using direct physical punishment on her instead of indirect and later after that when he uses her as a punching bag.