Retsu's Dark Desires

As far as strange drunken holidays went this had to be the best day ever!

He had taken her twice on the table—twice for him, several times for her—before resting a moment (which was a series of slow deep breaths, Kami he didn't even fall on top of her!) and dragging her to the floor. Hakama: gone! Sash and badge: gone! Rangiku's black shirt remained caught around her shoulders but the bubbly blond didn't think that hurt her appearance at all, in fact she felt gorgeous! More so than usual even! Those confidant, arrogant, aristocratic fingers played inside her like a harp, like he knew every string to pluck. And for a man who'd only been married once—with no other sexual escapades to report as far as she knew (and Matsumoto would know)—he was amazing!

Byakuya-san hadn't said much after his first and last apology (for what Ran didn't know…but yeah she could admit this hadn't been planned in any way) but that was fine. His body did the talkin' and wow, what a dictionary! But she had to admit—in the moments between thrusts against his deliciously abused clit—that it was very strange Rukia or Renji hadn't felt their Captain's reiatsu surge and pulse the way it had. . .er. . .was. . .or at least try and find out what was wrong with the unbelievably dark and intriguing taicho. Matsumoto's forehead scrunched almost painfully in thought, her full lips pursing forward.

"Welllll, it wouldn't be good if his sister was in my place," she mused, raising a hand and twirling a lock of golden hair around her finger. "Even Kurotsuchi-taicho would have to think there was something icky icky about that! And then Renji-kun would be soooooo sad that Rukia-san wasn't bein' faithful to him that he'd pro'ly go challenge the Arrancar himself—"

"Matsumoto-san!"

It was a harsh reprimand that Rangiku only registered when Byakuya-san stopped his luscious strumming of her body, looking up into that aristocratic face with large unblinking eyes.

"Kuchiki-taiiiiiiiichoooooo—" Her beginning wail was cut off by a haughty glare and a quick repositioning of bodies which left the noble all but sitting on her tits.

"Matsumoto-fukutaicho," the dark-haired man continued in his arrogant monotone, wet fingers slipping underneath her neck. "I thank you for the revelation of the uragirimono that is my Lieutenant, he will be dealt with in time. But this is a situation where the spoken word. . .is not needed." Ran was allowed no rebuttal as her mouth was then taken up with the task of deep throating Byakuya's impressive cock.

Kotetsu-fukutaicho was frightened out of her ever-lovin' mind. What had happened to the Seireitei? Had everyone gone insane?! Not only had she been obscenely propositioned by members of her own Division, it seemed like anyone she'd had the unfortunate circumstance to run in to who wasn't currently fucking like rabbits was trying to talk her into some act or another, or skipping the talking altogether and simply going straight to the jumping! Had Kyoraku-taicho's attitude infected everyone?!

And it wasn't like Isane's day had started off all that great to begin with, what with that horrifying dream of attacking orange balloons and waltzing candles. She'd woken up with the scent of wax and latex in her nose and nearly thrown up. After her morning meditations she had left in search of her office and found. . . unnatural goings on. Her Taicho was not present, there was a distinct lack of new paperwork to fill out, and the hallways were absent of the persistent fluttering of butterfly wings. They were full of nervous Fourth Division officers however, none of whom could say where Unohana-taicho may be, and this was possibly the most unnatural thing of all. Everyone in the Fourth Division always knew where their Captain was; she was extremely dependable and—and as Unohana-taicho's Lieutenant, Isane should know where the hell her Captain was located!

And then the carpet jokes had started—much to everyone else's amusement, including Itegumo—and Kotetsu-fukutaicho decided quickly that it was time to get out of dodge before her zanpakuto was influenced further.

Her escape had begun easily enough, simply walking through the halls to the exit of the Fourth wasn't a trial—though glimpsing a patient of the Eleventh receiving a blow job from one of her own shinigami was particularly disturbing and would no doubt be responsible for several nightmares to come. Equally unsettling were the embracing naked foursome pressed up against the gates, but at least they had been thoroughly occupied with each other to ignore her passing completely. The same couldn't be said about the group gathered by the fountain: a dozen or so officers, male and female, from various Divisions, thrusting and licking and sucking and naked bits everywhere! Two called out to her while another attempted to untangle himself from the limbs and clasp her wrist at the same time.

Isane had been on the run ever since.

This was madness! What was she supposed to do?! She had spotted Unohana-taicho's reiatsu signature but what help was that when there were masochistic officers begging with her to "heal" them?! And she was starving! After her dream Isane had continued to fast and now there was just no time to safely navigate the kitchens and mess halls in search of food because all those blasted fornicators were staying where energy was easily re-established! Terror had spiked upon being spotted by Matsumoto in a practically deserted area of town. Just the thought of smothering between those gigantic assets while Rangiku was under the thrall of whatever had infected the rest of the Seireitei was enough to have the fukutaicho squeaking in fright and racing for the nearest empty dojo. Isane would hide herself away until this whole situation sorted itself out. . .or so she thought until she heard the door on the opposite side of the circular structure slide shut. She jumped like a spring top and turned around to face her friend Hisagi Shuhei, who had a similar expression of concern pasted across his tattooed face. Their voices rang out at the same time.

"Stay on your own side!"

He had unwrapped her obi as if he had had generous previous experience, the rough hand coming around her waist, under her arm, to tug effortlessly at the silk. His presence was a solid wall of heat and roaring energy behind her, held in check by what Unohana could not fathom as her own was slipping away with each purposeful drag of a knuckle along the underside of her aching breasts. The silence between them was deafening, like thunder building in a darkening cloud; the humidity was already there, her flesh was glistening with unmet needs and she had not been able to move since his first word, afraid of what indignity she might reveal by simply throwing herself at the warrior and expressing centuries of repressed desires—It was to much. Her slow breathing ended in a pant, her heart thudding near death-knells in her chest while her sash fell to the floor.

She didn't protest when the Eleventh Taicho brought both his hands up and fisted her haori off her shoulders in one luxurious pull. He crowded her, took up so much room in her private quarters that Retsu had to swallow back a moan at the thought of how much room he would need between her thighs.

"Za. . .Zaraki-taicho?"

"Damaru," he rumbled, placing his hand beneath her braid to press solidly upon her covered breast bone, forcing Unohana back against his chest where he—if she was not mistaken—began to take in her scent. The subtle jingle of his bells aroused within her such a fever; her eyes dropped with her resistance and Unohana leaned her head upon his solid strength, his responding growl of approval having the Healer imagining it unleashed on her person. "I'll have you Retsu."

"I know," she replied softy. And with a great breath took a step forward, slowly pivoting to finally face her suitor and stare up into his sharp features. "You will take yourself to my bed and prepare. I have a message to send and then. . .I shall take you before you shall have me. Kenpachi."

The other Captain's answering grin was a feral slash of white teeth.

"As you wish."

Hanataro Yamada was very surprised by his Taicho's message, the butterfly flitting away as soon as it had been delivered into his sleepy hands. He had woken early enough to stumble to the kitchens and prepare Captain Unohana's breakfast but after returning to his rooms to fetch some papers had gracelessly fallen on his mats and resumed slumber. Ooooooo he was going to be in trouble! He rubbed his drooping gaze though at the elegant characters and the demand they conveyed.

"What would Yachiru-san be doing at the Research Institute?"