Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of torture through forced self-mutilation. Reader discretion is advised. If you simply don't want to read the torture session but do want to read the rest of the chapter, read until the second page break (the first being after the disclaimer), then scroll down until you reach the third. Everything after that is safe.
Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo, meaning it does not belong to me. I am in no way, shape, and/or form claiming to be the owner/creator of these concepts, though I do claim any characters not apart of the original Bleach storyline (such as Aporro [in character, not name] and Vicenta Acere) mine. As such, I would appreciate fellow authors and readers to give credit where credit is due and not steal any of my characters and/or concepts. Thank you, and have a pleasant day.
Aporro stirred, her body taking its time to revive itself as if from a deep sleep.
She wasn't at all shocked to find her face pressed into one of Stark's pillows; when Szayel drugged her heavily but didn't have time to watch her, himself, he often left her with either the former Primera or his older brother.
She was even less surprised when she felt Stark's dense reiatsu behind her, his arm draped across her back; Stark tended to get really cuddly in his sleep.
Heaving a sigh, Aporro growled slightly and rolled to face Stark, flinching when she realized how much energy the simple action took. Szayel must have drugged her heavily after she'd fallen asleep.
Listless and already bordering on going back to sleep, Aporro watched silently as Stark cracked an eye open at her stirrings, the former Espada blinking his one open eye slowly before rumbling, "You okay?"
"Tired." Aporro mumbled in answer, unable to keep her eyes from closing exhaustedly every few minutes, "Szayel really doped me good this time…"
"That he did." Stark agreed, closing his eye and nodding, "Gave you so much of a muscle relaxant he said the dosage was just short of being lethal…"
"Bastard." Aporro twitched, her eyes sympathetically closing with his and her mind starting to fog.
"And yet you still love him…" Stark observed amusedly, cracking his eye open again and smirking slightly when her lips twitched into a scowl.
"'course I do…" Aporro mumbled, her voice tapering off slightly, "He's… my life-mate…"
Stark chuckled, "Life-mates are just doomed to reproductive/sexual monogamy for the rest of eternity; no one said you had to love him."
"Well, don't that make me the stupid one?" Aporro snorted softly, mirthlessly.
"Oh, I wouldn't feel too bad." Stark sighed, sitting up and turning her onto her back so the effects of the muscle relaxants wouldn't stop her breathing, "It's not like, in yours and the Octava's case, the feelings aren't mutual."
"…Yeah." Aporro whispered, smiling slightly and limply letting him move her, "He is a fuckin' pansy, isn't he?"
Stark rolled his eyes, pulling the blankets down to relieve some of the pressure on her body, "Such an affectionate little treasure you are…"
Aporro snorted again, waking up a bit now that she didn't feel like she was being smothered.
Peeling open her eyes, Aporro looked up at Stark and mumbled, "Where's Szayel?"
"Working." Stark sighed, flopping back and throwing an arm over his face, "The Seireitei's been informed, and as soon as they have the proper paperwork filled they'll come and help… Halibel's temporarily taken over your duties, everything's on lockdown and everyone's been sent to their rooms."
"…'nd Grimmjow?" Aporro could only imagine how the former Sexta was taking it…
"In his room." Stark sighed, "Szayel would have sedated him, too, if the brat hadn't wound himself up so much. Still, he hasn't left or even moved much, so…" Stark paused, then shook his head, lifting his arm and glancing at Aporro, "But forget all of that. Szayel wants you to be as in the dark as possible so you won't try to take control of things in your state, so just rest. Szayel has everything covered."
Aporro sighed, closing her eyes, "…When's Szayel coming back?"
"…Probably as soon as he's finished with his… 'work'…"
Szayel absently glanced over when his current subject of interest, a rather weak, female Vasto Lorde, woke, pulling at her restraints slightly and groaning.
"Are you awake?" He asked in a smooth tone, smirking slightly when she tensed and opened her eyes to glare at him.
Vaida's eyes quickly swept up and down Szayel's form before settling on his face again, her lips twisting in a sneer as she struggled against her bonds.
"That is quite pointless, you know." Szayel sighed, standing from the stool he had been sitting on and sauntering over, "I've effectively drained you to the point where you're no stronger than a human…" He paused at the side of her table, smiling down at her tauntingly, "Not that there was much left that needed sapping. You were in quite a state as it was."
Vaida narrowed her eyes up at him, drawing her lips back over her teeth and hissing at him.
Szayel stared down at her coolly, not at all impressed, then turned his back on her and wandered back over to the table he'd been working at. There, he picked up a beaker full of a thick, grey substance and held it up, making it catch in the light, "You know, after I captured you and analyzed your reiatsu, I noticed something very interesting."
Silence ensued as the former Octava picked up a tube of white liquid and poured it in the beaker, making the grey substance flash and turn silver.
Vaida watched silently, her jaw set.
Finally, Szayel glanced back at her, setting the beaker down, "I noticed that you had lingering traces of reiatsu on you that didn't belong to you, or even another Vasto Lorde. They belonged to an Arrancar. A certain Vicenta Acere Grantz." When Vaida tensed, Szayel glided over and smiled down at her, "Oh, so you know her…?"
Still, Vaida said nothing.
"Oh, is that the game you want to play?" Szayel drawled, quirking a brow slowly as if he were just catching on but smirking sharply to show he knew full well what she was trying to do. "Well, then, shall we loosen your lips a bit?"
Instinctively, Vaida flinched and closed her eyes, turning her head to the side and preparing to be struck.
No blow came, however.
Her brow furrowing, Vaida opened her eyes again and glanced over, watching as he turned and walked back over to his worktable yet again. Her brow only furrowed more when he picked up the beaker of silver liquid, and then her eyes widened when he slid the long, thick needle of a syringe into the substance and filled the plastic chamber.
Szayel carefully set the beaker back when the syringe was full, then turned and walked back over to the Vasto Lorde, his eyes wandering her form as she started to struggle. He had strapped her legs so that they were slightly splayed and her arms held out straight. An extra panel had been added to the metal table for her wings, which he had made sure were thoroughly secured; he knew from firsthand experience how… tricky wings could be.
When the scientist got near her with the needle, Vaida finally spoke.
"What does that do?!"
Szayel glanced up from the vein he was looking at in her arm, smirking at the horrified look on her face, "Oh, suddenly the little bird can sing?" Without answering her question, he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around her elbow tightly, making the vein in her arm stand out before he slid the needle in.
Vaida screamed and struggled, but she wasn't able to stop Szayel from first drawing a bit of blood into the syringe, to make sure he'd hit the vein, then injecting the full, silvery contents into her bloodstream.
By the time he was done, Vaida was doing something she didn't normally do; she was throwing obscenity after obscenity at him.
Szayel was vaguely reminded of Aporro, but he was really too busy ignoring her as he wandered back over to his table and removed the needle from his syringe, tossing it into the red 'sharps' box.
When Vaida suddenly went silent behind him, he turned back and smiled, quirking a brow at the horrified look she was giving him, "Something wrong, little Vasto Lorde?"
"I can't move my body…" Vaida hissed, starting to hyperventilate, "What in the hell did you do to me?!"
"Oh, nothing much." Szayel shrugged one shoulder easily, sitting down in his chair and leaning back against the edge of his worktable, "Now… would you care to tell me how Vicenta's reiatsu signature ended up mingling with yours?"
Vaida narrowed her eyes at him, spitting, "Fuck you!"
"Now, that's hardly any language for a young lady to be speaking…" Szayel stood slowly and walked over to her, unfastening one of her arms, "Slap your mouth."
Vaida stared at him in confusion, then laid back in stunned shock when her hand flew up and struck her own mouth, hard enough to split her lip.
Szayel giggled slightly, "Your face does nothing to belie your confusion, allow me to explain." He reached out, smiling as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger and spoke, "What I injected you with were nanobots; trillions of microscopic machines are coursing through your veins right now, from the tips of your toes all the way up to the latticework of vessels in your scalp."
Horror slowly trickled into Vaida's system, making it feel like the contents of her stomach had iced over and turned to slush as she tried, in vain, to struggle against her numb body.
"Now, I must tell you, they aren't perfect." Szayel sighed, lifting his hands and shrugging, "They don't come anywhere near affecting the areas of your brain that control cognizance, sensory perception or comprehension, however they do give me complete and total control of your motor neurons. Your entire central nervous system, from your somatic motor neurons to your sympathetic and parasympathetic reflexes, belongs to me and is under my command. Now tell me, little Vasto Lorde," Szayel tilted his head slightly, smiling down at her and speaking as if to a child, "Do you know what that means?"
"YOU SICK FUCK!!" Vaida screamed, trying to fight off her paralysis.
Szayel stood, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he planted his fists on his hips, "I swear, your mouth gets filthier and filthier. Well, we're going to have to fix that, aren't we?" He then stood directly beside her table and clasped his hands behind his back, leaning over her, "Bite your tongue off."
Vaida struggled to breathe as she stared up at him, actually wanting to tremble at the terrifying image he made.
The only light in the room she could see was directly over the table; it was bright white and it burned her eyes. With Szayel standing over her and in the path of the beam, the only features of his pitch-black silhouette she could make out were the flash of the two frames of his glasses and the glimmer of his teeth as he smiled widely.
Still, for as terrifying a visage as he made, nothing scared her more than when her own hand raised up and reached into her mouth.
Vaida started screaming around her fingers when they pulled her tongue out of her mouth as far as it could stretch, staring directly up in Szayel's glinting lenses and begging him thickly to stop.
Quickly, though, pain settled across her tongue like a hot iron brand and blood spattered her eyes, making her clamp them shut as she screamed hard, louder, longer.
She tried to ignore how she could feel her own teeth sawing back and forth, taste buds and the outer dermal layer giving away easily under her incisors.
She tried to ignore how she could feel them skip every now and then when they hit a particularly stubborn string of muscle.
She tried to ignore how her saliva and tears mixed to make a burning liquid that only added to her pain, and how her mouth was quickly filling with blood.
She hacked and wheezed when her screaming made her swallow and get bloody saliva in her lungs, but despite her inability to breathe her teeth kept sawing at her tongue, her dull, dirty claw-gauntlet fingers joining in after a bit and scratching at the gashes, pulling them roughly and stripping the skin away from the muscle.
"Oh, wait, I still need you to talk, don't I? You can stop."
When she regained control of her jaw and her hand fell down at her side, limp, Vaida squeezed her eyes shut and burst into tears, wishing she could move her neck so she could slam the back of her head against the table until she lost consciousness.
Szayel watched her dispassionately, then turned and walked over to his workbench, grabbing a clear, squishy tube filled with a turquoise substance and walking back over to the girl.
He popped the cap and squirted some of it into her mouth, harshly ordering her to spread it all over her tongue and watching closely as the substance flashed an emerald color before her flesh and muscles began to knit themselves back together.
Szayel sighed heavily and looked down at his hand, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together absently so he could generate a bit of heat where the clothed digits met. Waiting for his healing medications to take effect, even the speedier ones, was always boring.
"O-Okay…" Vaida rasped when she could talk again, her voice strangled with tears and breaking slightly, "Okay, okay, okay, I'll tell you…"
Szayel looked down at her, smiling affectionately and tracing the length of his warmed finger along her jaw, "Good girl. Now, you never properly introduced yourself; what is your name?"
"V-Vaida." The young Vasto Lorde hiccupped, shuddering and whimpering when a bubble of blood burst in the back of her throat.
"Well met, Vaida." Szayel purred, "Now, how did Vicenta's reiatsu end up mingling with yours?"
"I-I was charged with watching her." Vaida admitted, swallowing the blood and healing agent in her mouth so he could hear her clearly.
"Charged by whom?" Szayel pressed in a deceptively gentle voice, rubbing a bit of blood off of her bottom lip with his thumb.
Here, Vaida clamped her mouth shut and swallowed hard, looking up at him pleadingly through her tears; silently begging him to ask a different question, one she could answer without being afraid.
Oh, Szayel got the message. But he wasn't about to relent.
"I asked 'whom', little Vaida." Szayel said, his tone starting to go dangerously flat.
"P-Please…" Vaida choked, "D-Don't ask me that…" If Marccia found out that Vaida had spoken under the influence of torture, the woman would dismantle her.
"Whoever you're afraid of," Szayel murmured softly, leaning in close to her face, "Isn't here. I, however, am. And I have complete control of your body…"
Vaida licked her lips slowly before biting them, her gaze darting away.
"…Very well." Szayel sighed heavily, sounding disappointed, then leaned across the table and undid the strap her other arm, "Break your right index finger."
Vaida's gaze snapped back to him and she looked up at him with wide eyes, her mouth opening soundlessly even as her hands met above her stomach.
When she felt her left hand wrap around her index finger, Vaida could help but look down and watch in morbid fascination as her finger was slowly bent backwards towards the top of her hand.
Once it started to burn, she opened her mouth and started letting out short, breathy gasps, hyperventilating all over again when it went from burning to hurting and wailing unintelligibly when the joint started to crack.
And then, when her finger finally snapped, she clamped her mouth shut tightly and whimpered, her nose flaring and her eyes screwing shut. Still, not looking now wouldn't undo what she'd seen; the underside of her knuckle popping and turning white as sharp edges that weren't supposed to meet the air, ever, strained against the rough and calloused skin of her palm to do just that.
Szayel watched her with a quirked brow, glancing down at her hand and watching as her body twisted her finger slightly. So, she still wasn't talking…
"Now, break your right middle finger."
Another snap, crunch and grind, and this time she screamed in the back of her throat, her mouth still shut firmly.
"Your right ring finger is next."
Another snap, crunch and grind, and this time her a strangled cry bubbled out of her lips, bitter tears running down her face in streams.
"I'm sure you know what's next." Szayel smiled at her, "Go ahead. Break your pinky finger."
"F-Fuck you, you son of a bitch!!" Vaida screamed as her own body betrayed her yet again and snapped her pinky finger, leaving it somehow stiff yet limp at the same time and red, "Marccia!! Her name is Marccia fucking Bones!"
"Good girl." Szayel chuckled, reaching out and releasing the straps on her torso and neck. "Now, tell me… Where is Vicenta being held?"
Vaida let out a cry of frustration and closed her eyes in place of lowering her head, not even bothering to make an effort to hold back the tears anymore.
"I can't tell you that. Goddamn you, you sick fuck, you know I can't tell you that!"
"Oh, I know." Szayel nodded, smiling down at her in a way that was almost gentle… "But you're going to. One way or another, you're going to."
Vaida closed her eyes and sobbed, her tongue burning, her right hand on fire and throbbing, throbbing, throbbing and her head starting to split with the anguish and pain.
"Tell me, Vaida." Szayel urged in a disturbingly gentle tone, his hand cupping her cheek and caressing her temple with this thumb in some sick, twisted mockery of comfort, "Just tell me where Marccia Bones is holding Vicenta. How far is it from here? In which direction? Tell me, Vaida, and this can all end…"
But she couldn't. The crippling fear Marccia had literally pounded into her skull prevented Vaida from speaking. All that came out of her mouth was rolling sob after sob, the sound thick with her tongue swelling in the aftermath of her nearly biting it off.
"Oh, Vaida." Szayel sighed, sounding almost sympathetic and very disappointed as he reached out and grabbed her right arm.
Vaida looked up at him through her tears, her chest heaving as he pressed her wrist to her lips.
"Bite." Szayel urged gently, "Chew. Strip your right forearm of all of its skin and flesh, right down to the bone… Eat yourself."
Not longer completely in contact with her own body, Vaida was vaguely aware of her voice screaming at Szayel, cursing him until she felt something soft and squishy give way under her teeth and something thick, metallic-tasting and hot flooded her mouth.
In too much shock to localize the pain, Vaida's entire form became a throbbing mass of hurt as she watched, as if from outside of her body, as her own teeth, her own mouth, started tearing hunks out of her arm.
Pale skin became dyed with red before it was torn aside, giving way to bloodied and pulsating tissue. Oily, clumpy fat was scooped out as if it were butter, and tough muscle had to be gnawed and pulled at until it was in bloody, stringy ribbons.
Long, tender strips of skin were peeled right off of her arm, and her lips and teeth worked frantically of their own accord to slurp them into her mouth.
Vaida tried but couldn't quite ignore how she could feel squishy, wet masses in her mouth, on her tongue, being chewed and reduced to mush before she swallowed and it went down into her stomach.
Pulsating masses of muscle, looking like slick slabs of raw hamburger, flexed and bulged as her neck muscles strained in the tearing and chewing motions, and, in some areas, blood-soaked bone, dyed a pale pink, glistened brilliantly in the overhead light.
She wanted to be sick.
She wanted to throw up so badly she could already taste bile… or, at least, she thought she could. She supposed she could have just as easily been tasting the layers of fat she'd already bitten through.
However, when Vaida went to throw up, Szayel sighed and let out a tut.
"Now, now, none of that. You'll make a mess on the floor. Hold it in."
And her body obeyed.
The convulsions and heaving her diaphragm and throat had been doing suddenly stopped, and Vaida found herself still eating her arm, no longer hindered by her gag reflex no matter how disgusted she was.
Suddenly, Vaida started imagining she was back out in the dunes of Hueco Mundo, napping beside Gillo or arguing with him over something petty. He would push her over and prop his feet up on her back, using her as a footrest and making her lay down and relax.
She would go hunting, and he would try to take the good half of her kill, making her whine and slap him.
She would feel Marccia nearby, and Gillo would push her to the ground and flop down beside her, raising his reiatsu until it crushed her slightly so she couldn't feel the sadistic redhead.
Vaida imagined this, and realized that none of what she was doing was worth it; that trying to impress Gillo was stupid.
All she wanted was to be with him again. All she wanted was his mildly annoyed presence nearby, shielding her from the kind of savagery that their kind were so prone to, that she was immersed in at that very moment.
Suddenly, the world swam and Vaida's sight went tunnel-visioned, everything inverting and turning grey before the world went black.
Szayel watched dispassionately as the young Vasto Lorde went limp and passed out, her arm flopping over the edge of the table and gushing blood onto the floor.
How had the girl managed to achieve her rank?!
Perhaps she was one of those unfortunate few who lost their ferocity the more they evolved…
Sighing, Szayel grabbed the tube of turquoise paste again and slipped on a pair of long nitrile rubber gloves, slathering her arm with it and tossing the gloves in the wastebasket when he was finished. He then unfastened all of the straps from the girl's body completely and rolled her onto her stomach, moving her up so her chin hung over the edge of the table.
"Lumina, Verona, get a garbage bin under her mouth!" Szayel snapped, turning to his workstation and flipping through the medicine cabinet to fish out a syringe and a proper emetic.
Once his Fraccion had obeyed his command, Szayel turned back to the girl and injected a tea-colored liquid into her thigh, turning to the bloody mess on the floor when she instantly started convulsing and vomiting.
Sighing and rubbing his temple, Szayel waved his hand and snapped at his Fraccion to clean up the blood, having to shout slightly to speak over the sounds of Vaida emptying her stomach loudly.
It was only when the noises stopped that Szayel finally turned back to her, rolling her into her side and grabbing her right arm so he could look it over.
The paste had done its job, though she would have quite an ugly scar there, not to mention he would still have to take care of her hand, but…
…Joint breaks like that were minor; reconstructive surgery probably wouldn't even have to be penetrative if he used one of his experimental drugs and reset the fingers by hand.
And then, once she was in better shape, he could hook her up to one of his many machines and scan her limbic system to see if he couldn't retrieve any memories regarding Vicenta's location, because really, the weak little brat on his table hadn't proven to be any help at all.
Though he would give her…
…Her screams made her a sadist's dream.
Aporro opened her eyes slowly and looked up at the ceiling of her room, wondering just when she'd been moved from Stark's bed to her own.
When someone stirred beside her, she glanced at Szayel and blinked slowly, mumbling, "Hey…"
Szayel glance down at her from some glossy papers he was looking at, looking her body up and down slowly, "Aporro… how do you feel…?"
"Like I'm going to kick your ass if you ever drug me this much again."
"Ah." Szayel sighed, turning back to his papers, "Normal, then."
Aporro rolled her eyes and snorted, then lifted one hand weakly and beckoned him over, "C'mere."
Szayel sighed, but set the glossy papers aside and leaned over her, giving in slightly when she grabbed the front of the high collar of his jacket and dragged him down into a heated but slow and weak kiss.
Aporro frowned slightly as he pulled back, sniffing. He smelled like blood…
"Szayel, what were you doing while you had Stark watching me?"
"Nothing much." Szayel replied smoothly, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth before he sat upright again and picked his glossy papers back up. "Just work."
Aporro stared up at him silently, then struggled and rolled onto her side, reaching out and taking his free hand.
Szayel glanced down at her as she fell back asleep, then turned his attention back to the images of Hueco Mundo and the Forest of Menos on the papers in his hand, lacing his fingers with hers.
Fun in The Sanctuary~!
El Sanctuario's Clubs…! Part I
"I can't believe that the Captain-Commander actually approved letting shinigami join the Arrancar Kimono Society!" Momo giggles excitedly, clapping her hands and looking up at Rangiku.
"I can't believe there's an Arrancar who knows how to make kimonos…" Rangiku mumbles, looking up at the ceiling as she and the other shinigami who came to try out the club follow their Arrancar guide, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
"Especially after the Sex Ed. Class disaster…" Nanao sighs, shaking her head.
"Oh, I'm sure this one will be quite enjoyable." Retsu insists from behind them with a gentle smile, "After all, making kimonos doesn't require as much… opinion."
"Why am I here again…?" Renji mumbles, glancing around at the gaggle of females surrounding him.
"Because you have a habit of taking all clubs for a test run." Ichigo grumbles moodily, clasping his hands behind his head and glaring at the ceiling.
"Oh?" Renji glances at him, grinning in annoyance and quirking a twitching brow, "And why are you here?"
"Because you dragged me along, asshole!" Ichigo snaps, scowling.
Titters and giggles erupt around them, making both males flush and lower their heads.
The noise abruptly stops, though, when their Arrancar guide turns to them and bows, gesturing to a door, "The chairwoman is waiting just inside. Thank you for coming, and we hope you enjoy yourselves."
The group of ten strong walk inside, freezing when they see, amongst the forest of mannequins and standing rolls and sheathes of bright and colorful fabrics, the 'chairwoman', already hard at work with her mannequin at the head of the room.
Aporro looks over as her group of newcomers walks in, grinning past the long silver pins in her mouth and giving them a two-fingered salute, "Yo!"
Surprisingly… the club would become quite popular.