A/N: DUN DUN DUN. I think I should start playing the Imperial March or something.

On another note, almost everyone guessed the Demon Lord's identity right. Nobody correctly identified the fifth guest though, but that's ok because he's kinda lame/not important.

This chapter is the first one that really starts to earn the mature rating it has, just because of a certain, uh, person. He's a little bit...sexual. :D And fun to write. Also, Grimmjow is a warning all by himself.

Chapter 5: Greed

I woke to the sensation of being petted along my ribcage. While not entirely unpleasant, it was unnerving. I remembered being alone, so who was petting me?

Hitsugaya shook me again, rousing me completely. That's when I smelled it. It was hot, salty, and on a white plate in Hitsugaya's other hand.

A perfect slice of bacon, crinkled with heat and marbled with juicy white fat, exuded wonderful meaty perfumes from the ivory throne it sat on.

It looked so good, it was making drool and write delicious poetry simultaneously. Quite a feat.

"Grimmjow wanted you to have this. He says he burned it, but I can't find black on here anywhere." Hitsugaya waited for me to become human again before he handed me the toasty plate. "Be careful, it's still hot."

I tore off a greasy mouthful before what he had said hit me.

"Grimmjow?! Where is he? Is he ok? Where's Ichigo?!" I spluttered, trying not to lose precious bacon in the process.

"Calm down, Renji," the ice midget scolded me. I sat down again, my eyes huge with worry. "I thought someone would have told you by now. Both of your friends are perfectly fine. Better than fine, actually. Byakuya promoted them to the servant's quarters upstairs. I live up there too, right next door, actually."

"Grimmjow's only been here five months, and Ichigo's been here for just over three. I thought the new slaves were kept down here for six months minimum." I was puzzled.

"Or you can get out early for good behavior," Hitsugaya informed me. "Slaves are kept down here to be monitored. It's safer for the rest of us if someone who was brought here was a psychopath, for example. Good behavior means a slave is ready to take orders. Just be good, and you'll be living next door to them in a couple of weeks."

I nodded, not really sure if I was agreeing or just letting the information sink in.

"So...Grimmjow's cooking? Is this smart? He could burn the whole place down, given the chance."

"Oh, most of the slaves are being trained in all sorts of cooking right now. The yearly feast is coming up, and Byakuya wants this place to be clean and filled with good food. He has guests he tries to keep happy. As for Grimmjow, he's an excellent cook. Especially when he's cooking meat."

"And Ichigo?" I pressed.

"Bartender," Hitsugaya answered all questions with one word. "He also likes decorating each dish with sprigs of parsley and slices of lemon and the like. He says it's almost like interior design."

Well, I always knew Ichigo was as gay as the day was long, but that just clinched it. Interior design? Really?

"Will they ever come visit me?" I missed them both already. Life was bleak alone in a cage.

"Probably, after the feast. Byakuya is working them all to the bone. It's in two days, just so you know." Hitsugaya shrugged, turning his back to me. "There will be a few aristocrats here, slave holders. All of them will be accompanied by their most valuable or most well-behaved slaves. The best of those will trade hands sometime that night."

My stomach dropped through the concrete floor, and I didn't know why. I chalked it up to nerves, but my instinct told me something very bad was going to happen that night.

I was lonely when Hitsugaya came downstairs a second time. Hell, I was always lonely nowadays.

He was quick to inform me that another entire day and a half had passed. The guests would begin arriving in a few short hours, and the other slaves were already scurrying about.

My stomach lurched. I was less than twelve hours away from that dreaded dinner. Time could go no faster.

"Byakuya wishes you to retire to his personal bath again," Hitsugaya sighed, sounding as though he was repeating the message verbatim. "All the other slaves had their showers in the slaves' quarters, so I asked if I could bring you there. He refused, and said you needed to wear something the other aristocrats would find appealing." Hitsugaya looked torn. "I don't know what that would entail."

"A tux?" I joked humorlessly. Of course I was irritated, the bastard was still trying to get rid of me!

Hitsugaya wouldn't look me in the eyes. "Come on, Renji." He opened the cell door. "Time for another bath."

I shuffled placidly up to Byakuya's quarters, feeling a slight thrill as I laid eyes on his beautiful bed a second time. It was still covered in sakura petals, but the incense had changed and there were candles in the branches of the bronze tree.

It really was a beautiful room.

Hitsugaya pulled me into the bathroom, where the tub had already been filled with scented water. "I'll come back in fifteen minutes to wash your fur," he informed me, then left so quickly, anyone outside would think I was walking around naked.

Okay, so, now I was.

I messed around with the glass bottles, opening and smelling at random to find something I liked. I found a masculine body wash, spicy like cinnamon, and a chocolate-scented shampoo. I wasn't sure how it was made to smell like chocolate, because it sure didn't taste like it.

...What? I wanted to see if it tasted as good as it smelled.

It didn't. But it would do for shampoo.

Fifteen minutes later, Hitsugaya made good on his word and slowly opened the door. I gave him a look, and padded over to him. My nails clicked on the tile in a little rhythm, and he finally decided he was safe from my nakedness.

It felt wonderful to have someone work soap through my fur, and knocked a few bottles on the ground with my wagging tail. Hitsugaya paid close attention to my paws, rubbing the pads, getting soap between my toes, and even clipping the nails.

I had never been this clean in my life.

After the laborious process of drying my fur, I changed back into a human to help clean up. Hitsugaya waved a pair of black boxers at me blindly, as he clenched his eyes shut in a way that looked painful.

I laughed, pulling on the boxers and scruffing up his hair.

Just a little. The midget would get over it soon enough, I was sure.

I helped him pick up the spilled bottles, I drained the tub, I even helped mop. We washed the dirt ring out of the tub (I cringed a little when I saw how bad it was) and refolded the unused towels. All in all, I was on my best behavior.

Then, out of the blue...

"Sorry about this," Hitsugaya muttered. I would have said something in surprise, but there was a pinch on my neck and a cold sensation. Hitsugaya withdrew the needle, looking ashamed of himself.

That's when I started feeling really weird.

I know what it feels like to be intoxicated to the point of unconsciousness. Don't judge me. I don't get to drink very often, so when I do, I often overdo it. Besides, sake gets you inebriated much too quickly, and that's about the only alcohol I'd ever had.

It felt like the worst drinking party Shunsui could ever throw, combined with partial paralysis. I couldn't move for fear of knocking myself out with the effort. Everything swam in my vision, getting spottier as time scurried by. I think little patches of my memory were beginning to black out, and I was starting to go numb.

I wasn't quite unconscious, though that was probably what this drug was intended for. Yay for super werewolf genes.

That's when my memory went fuzzy.

Just as Byakuya had predicted, Soi Fon had brought an entire roast pig. What he hadn't been prepared for was the filleted dragon heart or the gargouille-shepherd's-pie. Each dish was large enough to feed everyone in the feast hall twice over, and the expensive silver platters madeByakuya's solid oak tables groan under the weight. She brought ten barrels of assorted alcohols, mostly sherry and beer, and a veritable tub of potato salad. One of her slaves, a beautifully bred half-were with an eternally transformed fox head, heaved in five huge bowls of chocolate ice cream. Byakuya's slaves flitted about, setting out plates, loading the tables with every kind of good food, cleaning and organizing, all while dancing out of everyoneelse's way. Ichigo made an appearance with a bag of parsley, fretting with the placement on each plate and fixing drooping sprigs of rosemary. Grimmjow dragged out a butcher-block cart and a huge knife, making a show of chopping up chicken breasts, eel fillets, and t-bone steaks. Hitsugaya made endless trays of ice cubes, passing them to Ichigo for his mojitos and margaritas. There was a short lull in the buzzing action when a new guest arrived, but Kurotsuchi sent one glare around the room and everyone went back to work. The mad scientist had brought a contraption that resembled a huge purple hookah, glowing faintly in the candelabra light.

"Mayuri, you may put the false souls at the far end of the table. The Demon Lord will sit in the fourth chair from the left."

The pale psychopath ordered one of his female slaves, Nemu, to place it where instructed. She greeted a strange man already seated at that end of the table who had snuck in unnoticed.

Kariya, an ancient but poor pureblood vampire, had arrived without any slaves. Byakuya was sure he'd have more soon, though, and kept inviting the power-mad man to his dinner parties. He was a strange one though, and that's why Byakuya had seated him at the end farthest from the Demon Lord and as far from himself as possible.

Everyone had arrived except for the mysterious Demon Lord, leaving about half the seats empty. The slaves chatted amiably among themselves, stealing bites of the fine food while they waited for the fashionably late Lord.

Kurotsuchi approached the bar, ordering a shot of Vodka straight from the Northern Wastes. He downed it in one go, then turned his creepy gaze toIchigo.

"Where's your friend, the mutt?" Mayuri hoarsely whispered. "I haven't seen him yet tonight."

"I...He's not here," Ichigo wavered, sliding a beer into the half-were's outstretched paw. "I haven't seen him lately," he elaborated.

"Oh, so you've been moved, and he's still in the cage? How sad for him," he leered knowingly.

Ichigo said nothing as he polished a wine glass with a white rag.

The silence was broken as the huge front doors swung open. Two high-ranking demons, dressed in snappy white clothes, entered the hall and flanked the doors. The one on the left couldn't seem to stop smiling, while the one on the right was impossibly solemn behind his sunglasses. Then, a stream of slaves marched in, two by two. All of them wore the same white clothes, cut to fit their personal style. Each slave carried aloft a massive platter of a popular food. A large demon near the back had a pizza; an effeminate demon in the middle had a heaping plate of spaghetti, complete with meatballs and a huge loaf of garlic bread.
Two demons at the very front stood out. Both were slight of build, one with pink hair and glasses that he kept pushing back onto his nose. The other was smaller, solemn and dangerously pale. He had huge green eyes and a small platter of tomatoes.

Grimmjow inhaled sharply, drawing Ichigo's attention as his eyes went wide with shock.

"I know that guy," he whispered to Ichigo. He discreetly pointed at the small dark-haired demon. The green eyes flashed towards the duo, as if he had heard their comments.

Grimmjow went white.

A litter was carried through the doorway, four more demons supporting the weight of the Demon Lord and his portable throne. He directed them, with lazy sweeps of his pointer finger, to set him down beside his dinner chair.

He was very regal, but at the same time, very plain. His hair was a very normal brown, but his smile showed almost-not-fangs belying his lineage. He did everything with an infuriating relaxation: a wave of the hand here, a pressing together of his lips there, a slow bend of a finger to beckon the skinny pale demon forth. He plucked a tomato from this demon's platter, dangling a knife between his thumb and forefinger teasingly.

He cut the fruit with slow strokes of the blade, then fed his obedient slave one slice at a time. He placed the pale demon on his lap with the ease of a practiced waiter setting a teacup on a saucer. Another tomato was cut, this time shared between the two of them.

The rest of the demon servants began laying out their plates of food on a silent command nobody else had seen. The grinning demon was quick to bow at his lord's side, then press a patient kiss to the Demon Lord's lips.

Ichigo and Grimmjow exchanged looks. It was looking more and more like the Demon Lord was keeping some sort of...personal harem. Ichigo went red.

"Ah, Lord Aizen," Byakuya greeted his latest guest. He reached awkwardly around the demon in Aizen's lap to shake his hand. "You have brought so many new servants tonight, thank you."

Grimmjow snorted and bumped Ichigo's forearm with his elbow.

Ichigo dropped most of a watermelon daiquiri on the floor, and Grimmjow didn't notice.

"Hey, look," Grimmjow motioned with his head towards the aristocrats, "even Byakuya has to kiss the Demon Lord's--"

"Grimm," Ichigo warned, "you probably don't want to finish that sentence with so many ears around."

The first thing I want everyone to know is this: I would have fought it if I could.

I'm not sure when the red rubber thing got in my mouth, but it was starting to hurt my jaw. I fuzzily remembered it being strapped to my face with black leather straps, and shivered.

A ball gag. I've only ever heard of them before, and I've never wanted to be this intimately close to one, either.

Then I recognized the feeling of chafing in the one place a man should never have to feel chafing. I wanted to die...even more than I had wanted to recently.

Oh, bollocks, these pants are tight.

I wiggled my hips, trying to loosen them. My hands were tied behind my back, and I wasn't sure whether or not I was wearing a shirt. I was standing behindsomeone's shoulder in a hallway, waiting for something.

My head swam out-of-control again.

"Dinner is served," Byakuya announced slowly. He sat in the center seat, between the Demon Lord and Soi Fon, popping a cork out of a wine bottle with his bare hands.

The sudden pop started the action, turning the dinner table into a clamoring heap of excited servants. Plates and bowls clinked together as greedy hands snatched up whatever food could be found. Soups and salads quickly disappeared, and the line at the bar nearly overwhelmed poorIchigo. He grabbed an inexperienced Grimmjow, and ordered him to start pouring beers as fast as he could.

Both of them were too busy to notice the aristocrats appraising notable servants for trading, including a stumbling, familiar redhead.

Aizen's lip curled into a lewd smile as he saw what Renji was wearing. Soi Fon looked impressed, but jealous, and Kariya's expression hadn't changed once the entire night. Mayuri's eyes glowed when he saw the proud werewolf on a leash, and reminded himself that he could still trade for him.

If Aizen didn't get him first, that is. The Demon Lord was looking quite interested in adding this attractive servant to his household. Mayuri knew he couldn't compete with the Demon Lord once he had his eyes on something he liked.

Kurotsuchi had already been promised a new scientist-type servant, one of Aizen's demons. He looked a little silly with all that glasses-pushing and pink-hair-flipping, but he seemed to know his stuff. Besides, Aizen seemed to want to get rid of him for cheap, something about "reducing passion to vocabulary".

Aizen took a drag on the hookah-device, sucking down a long string of something translucent and smoky. He licked his lips like a cat, and repeated the gesture.

Kurotsuchi's mind raced. How was he going to get Aizen to let him have the werewolf? He could barter, but what with? Most of his servants were reduced to organs in a tube, or horriblemosters covered in too many limbs or eyes. This wolf looked stronger, he looked perfect for his newest experiment. Maybe he could showAizen how simple it was to create false souls? But then he'd lose all future bribery...

And then the slaves were sent back out, to a large anteroom behind the aristocrats.

Soi Fon was saying something about the wolf, and Kurotsuchi tried to appear interested.

"Why was the wolf so groggy?" she asked Byakuya accusingly. "Are you trying to trick us?"

Byakuya stared her down.

"He is difficult to break, and I wished to avoid a confrontation. Thus, I had another slave drug him for the time being. He should be wide awake and well-rested by tomorrow morning."

What Byakuya didn't say was the rest of the truth. He hadn't wanted to look into Renji's eyes and know that he had to give him to a noble who would probably hurt him more than Byakuya had. He didn't want to see the disappointment and hurt in the eyes that could hide nothing from him.

And he wanted to make Aizen squirm a little in excitement.

"Strong, sexy, and has to be both drugged and restrained to keep him tame? Hmm, I think I like him already," Aizen purred. He grabbed the demon in his lap by the hips, and moved him to straddle the Demon Lord's lap.

"Mmm," he muttered into his slave's ear, "you might have to take care of that later." He accompanied his words with a little pelvic thrust.

The dark-haired demon didn't react. All the other nobles pretended not to notice, staring at the table or at their feet.

Kurotsuchi saw his opening.

"I assume your bathrooms are this way, Kuchiki," he said, and quickly left before Byakuya could correct him.

Things were getting weird. All I could see was the inside of an old handkerchief, and it smelled disgusting to boot. Someone was dragging me along, down a hallway, up a few stairs, across a room... I lost track. I panicked when I couldn't hear the dinner party anymore, and instead could hear bugs and crunching grass.

I was pushed hard enough to make me stumble, and fell face-first into what had to be a carriage. A few more heave-hos, and I was sprawled on the floor of the carriage with my butt in the air. I couldn't move to get up or roll over, and it was getting so cold...

The carriage door slammed shut. I was alone, and it was getting so dark now.

Kurotsuchi waved Nemu over as soon as he had returned from his bathroom excursion. "We have to leave soon, get everything," he ordered. She gave a little bow and left to efficiently gather everyone up.

"I'm sorry, Kuchiki, but it seems I must adjourn from this meeting a bit early. None of your wares are particularly exciting to me, and I must get home to my experiments. Goodbye,Kuchiki."

Before Byakuya could protest, the man and all of his subordinates had flitted off. It was disturbing how quickly that man could move when he chose to. It all seemed a bit suspicious, butByakuya waved it off in front of his other guests.

"It seems Kurotsuchi has to run back to his chemistry set," Byakuya joked. He waved over Ichigo, who was supposed to be taking drink orders.

He ran to the table with a notepad and a pen, ready to jot down notes on preferred brands of alcohols or garnishes. Grimmjow tried not to hover like a worried mother hen, but he didn't like his berry-head being around that horrible demon--oh, and the man he was sitting on. He sauntered over with an angry smile and his hands shoved into his pockets, trying to look casual in the face of lechery.

The little lap-demon turned to face Grimmjow, and static audibly crackled between the two of them.

"Ulquiorra," he hissed.

"Grimm-kitty," Ulquiorra said with a perfectly straight face, "just as docile as I remember you."

Ichigo was amazed. This guy knew exactly how to push all of Grimmjow's buttons exactly.

"Grimm," Ichigo scowled, "not now."

"I'll have a Skinned Cat," Soi Fon ordered. "Instead of cream, I'd like white chocolate floated to the bottom."

Grimmjow winced.

"Gin and tonic, extra lime," Kariya said shortly. Ichigo scribbled it down.

"A dozen shots of your finest chocolate liqueur, for me and him," Aizen grinned again. "Chocolate is a natural aphrodesiac, you know."

Ichigo resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and Grimmjow resisted the urge to tear his right out of his head.

"Bring the bottle of wine I showed you earlier," Byakuya commanded. "Four wineglasses."

Ichigo gave a little bow, and grabbed Grimmjow's ear to drag him back to the bar.

"Do not go back over there," he growled at his lover. "Look, if you're good for the rest of the night, I'll sneak some booze into our bedroom, alright?"

"Alright, alright," Grimmjow growled. "Does this mean you'll let me do body shots?" He smiled cheekily at his blushing berry-head.

Ichigo hit him with a nearby stack of napkins. "Not so loud, you idiot!"

"So that's a yes?"

Ichigo smacked him again.

Mayuri grinned as he laid Renji, facedown and naked, on a surgical steel table. His limbs were restrained with leather straps, a bit of overkill in his drugged state. The pink haired demon, called Szayel, helped slide a four inch long needle underneath the skin next to Renji's spine. An IV drip was started in his arm, putting a clear electrolyte solution directly into his bloodstream. As Szayel added a pink solution to the IV, Kurotsuchi withdrew a spinal fluid sample.

The rosy pink solution was oily, entering his bloodstream in thick globules.

Kurotsuchi and Szayel waited expectantly, but nothing happened for ten long minutes.

"It...must be the drugs," Szayel offered. "You'll have to wait for them to flush from his system."

"I don't have that kind of time, Szayel," Mayuri whined. He dug through his messy desk drawers, desperately looking for something.

He finally pulled out a dirty glass bottle with a black semi-solid inside. A piece of masking tape with the word "Experimental" written on it was stuck over the lid.

"Aha, I'll get to try this too," he gave an oily chuckle.

He injected the black concoction directly into the base of Renji's spine. There were five long minutes of disappoited waiting, and then Renji began to scream.

The morning after the dinner party, Byakuya's slaves were grudgingly wiping down every surface, putting away every glass, and polishing every dish. Everyone had left happily, with filled bellies and new slaves. Byakuya was pretty sure he needed to burn Aizen's chair (Again! Every time he hosted a dinner party!), and in the chocolate, alcohol, and sex-induced haze, the Demon Lord had completely forgotten the beautiful werewolf.

Byakuya hadn't. He wouldn't tell anybody why he was turning over tables, ripping through doors, and thundering around the house. Grimmjow and Ichigo had been a little more tactful in their search, but they hadn't found him either.

Finally, they confronted the aristocrat.

"Where's Renji?" Ichigo asked calmly. The two crusaders had decided it would be better if Ichigo did the talking, because Grimmjow was furious.

Byakuya ignored him, folding a blanket he'd torn off the back of a couch.

"We just want to know if he's okay," Ichigo continued.

Byakuya still said nothing.

"Hey, you big prick, where the hell's our friend?" Grimmjow asked as politely as he could manage.

"I don't know," Byakuya stated flatly. "I have a feeling he was stolen last night by Kurotsuchi."

"The HELL?!" Ichigo and Grimmjow exclaimed in unison.

"Do you even care that he's gone?!" Grimmjow roared, discipline flying happily out the window.

Byakuya weighed his options. "He's just a slave--"

There was an audible crack as Grimmjow's knuckles met Byakuya's cheekbone. The aristocrat crumpled, a bruise already blossoming across his face.

"He loves you, get that through your thick skull!" Grimmjow yelled again as Byakuya froze in shock. "We're gonna go get him, you stay here and--" Grimmjow suggested he do several things so horrible, I can't even write them here. Ichigo stood there in shocked amazement, his mind literally rocked.

Grimmjow ended his filthy, curse-filled rant by spitting on the ground.

"Let's go, Ichigo, since we're obviously the only ones Renji can count on."

With that, the two of them walked out the door.

Renji couldn't stop screaming until his throat was raw. He tried slipping into wolf form to lessen the pain, but it intensified instead. He howled in pain, wishing with every bit of himself he could still feel that his cries wouldn't fall on deaf ears.

His wish came true as a pair of mottled, dirty, grizzled ears twitched at the sound of his agony.

A/N: CLIFFIE, PLZ DON'T KILL MEEEEE :x

Yeah, that took forever...I had writer's block so bad, I thought I was gonna give up. But then I remembered all my wonderful readers and said to myself, "Buck up, Byrd, you've got a lot of people counting on you to write this thing. So do it."

...And I know Kariya was lame, but that makes him IC, amirite? XD (Nobody knows about Kariya...hahaha...)

I thought sexaddict!Aizen would be funny. It was. Even if only I think so. (I mean, he has all those arrancar like "Ooh Master Aizen, I'll do whatever you saaaay..." What am I supposed to think? Oh, and I support Aizen/Gin, because villainsex is hot. Usually.) If you got the tomato reference, uber!props to you.

Hey look! This chapter had no angsty Ukitake and no creepy Shirosaki! What is wrong with me? Oh yeah, they're in the next two chapters.

Seriously, next chapter is gonna be a doozy. Really. I'm kinda scared to write it.

So, uh, long A/N is long. Tell me what you think is going to happen! I love to read my readers' predictions!