"Again."
Leather tore through flesh. Grimmjow's teeth clenched so hard he thought they might break.
"Again!"
More of his back turned to fire. This time he felt a hot trickle open up. The piece of leather had cut him open.
"Again."
He couldn't help the gasp that left him. His whole body shook, sweat drenched him and he began to sag in the men's grip.
"Keep going."
Another wet line of blood. He could feel it snaking down to his boxers where it soaked into the fabric. A few drops hit the floor by his feet.
"Ah!" He finally let out a scream at the next strike and his legs betrayed him. The men on either side of him tightened their hold around his arms as he fell to his knees.
"That's better." Katagiri purred from the side of the room where he watched the beating.
"A few more."
He was faint when they finished. The men pulled him back to his feet on Katagiri's orders. He was turned around, away from the wall and back to the main room.
It was a safe house, Grimmjow had guessed. The dirty floor in front of the cameras was for show, to keep Aizen from pinpointing their location. Though the building was old, it was clean and well kept. The room they were in was a fully furnished bedroom and Katagiri moved about it, pulling things from drawers as if he'd lived here all his life. He must have taken refuge many times, and judging by the amount of lewd instruments he'd already noted to Grimmjow, he must have often 'entertained' guests in his bedroom.
Now the mobster approached him, looking in his eyes. Grimmjow's face was flush, his eyes hot with unshed tears. Katagiri smiled.
"You will cry boy, before the night is out, so there's no point holding back." He stepped in and slipped a hand behind his back. Grimmjow tensed at pressure on his open wounds and welts. "I do hate to maim a body as fine as yours, but you deserved it after what you did to my men on the waterfront and for trying to kill me, of course. If I hadn't gotten out my anger now, I might have killed you in the bed. Speaking of which…"
He stepped back. The men knew their cue. They hauled Grimmjow toward the bed but his feet dragged and he found a last reserve of strength to fight back. The third man busied himself getting something from a closet. He returned and started attaching something to the foot of the bed.
Grimmjow of course knew what Katagiri was going to do to him, but seeing the man outfit the bed with restraints, was too much. He stopped fighting a moment, overwhelmed by what was about to happen. His knee struck the side of the bed. The men turned back to ask Katagiri how he wanted him.
Grimmjow stared dead ahead at sheets and metal and leather. He shook his head, denying this reality. And then he planted a foot against the bed and shoved back.
The men hadn't expected it. He threw his head to one side and caught one man in the nose, breaking it. He let go and Grimmjow was able to twist around and box the other man in the ear. He didn't let go completely but his grip loosened and Grimmjow twisted away. Something in his shoulder screamed but he escape, tripping then righting himself. Katagiri was across the room with the third man. He gave himself distance, watching them, waiting to see who would strike. They watched right back.
He bolted. He couldn't take them all on, and he was running on a short supply of adrenaline as it was. He ran straight for the door and hauled it open.
He ran straight into a body guard waiting on the other side.
His feet left the ground. The man body checked him, sending him flat on his back. He screamed out in agony as his raw wounds ground into the floor. He lost his breath, but he wasn't done fighting. He smashed his elbow into the man's face. It wasn't enough to topple him. He came back with a punch that stole Grimmjow's vision. They scuffled but the guard was on top and had him pinned. The next blow came into his ribs. It forced the air from his lungs. He gaged on emptiness and then another hit came, then another. Something cracked. He could barely breathe. The guard let up, seeing the damage was done.
He stood. Grimmjow was left a gasping mess on the floor.
"What do you want us to do, boss?"
"Leave him. I can handle him from here."
"Are you sure, sir?"
"You just broke at least two of his ribs. He's not going anywhere soon. Just watch the door."
"Yes sir." The men filed out. Grimmjow lay where he'd been left, slowly regaining the ability to breathe. He could barely move. He could feel the sticky mess on his face from a broken nose, but worse, he'd hit his head when he'd been slammed on the floor. Things weren't working right, but now he was alone with Katagiri. Now, he only had one opponent.
"It's okay, get up." Katagiri kept his distance. Grimmjow rolled slowly to one side. He felt the splintering pain in his side and paused a moment. His ribs were definitely cracked or broken. But he kept going, pushing his hands into the floor and getting to his knees.
He raised his head to check what Katagiri was doing. He was just standing there, watching him. Grimmjow proceeded to get one foot under him, then the other. He stood.
"You really are something, you know? I would have been disappointed if you hadn't put up a fight."
Grimmjow looked around the room for something he could use to defend himself. There was nothing obvious. The lamp on the night stand was the only thing he could consider.
"I'll give you a choice: get in the bed willingly, and I'll only do it to you once."
Grimmjow returned his gaze to Katagiri.
"That's not a choice." His voice was hoarse. He swallowed and realized he wasn't getting air in properly.
"Or," Katagiri went on, "Continue to fight you and I will destroy you before those cameras come back on tomorrow."
Grimmjow watched him. He looked back to the door a moment. That was not an option. The men were waiting and if he fought with them again he knew he'd lose. If he could take Katagiri down without a noise, however, then he would have some time to figure out an escape plan.
He took a step toward the bed. Katagiri continued to wait, watching what he would decide. His arms were crossed over his chest, stretching his suit. He was a thick man—not exactly fat—his shoulders and arm were broad with muscles. His stomach pressed against his shirt, not toned, but not bulging. His legs were like tree stumps. He must have been fit when he was younger, and now with age and too much time behind a desk, a soft layer had developed over his muscles.
It wouldn't be an easy fight. Grimmjow was greatly outweighed and beaten to Hell.
He took another step, nearing the night stand. He had to do this now, before he lost his nerve.
"Come on, then," he breathed, standing over the bed. He stared down at the shackles, stomach turning over. He could not fail.
"Good choice."
He tracked Katagiri's movements over the floor. He didn't watch him, he just waited, until one beefy hand came down on his shoulder.
He grabbed the lamp and swung.
Katagiri caught it.
Shit.
The base of the lamp came flush with Grimmjow's throat. His back pressed into Katagiri's chest and he realized his own weapon was being used against him. He choked on the pressure to his trachea. Katagiri hauled back mercilessly, crushing his windpipe slowly.
"AHG!" Grimmjow got a hand in the cord. He yanked back on it. He only succeeded in ripping the cord from the base. But Katagiri didn't want to kill him, so he let up and let Grimmjow fall forward. He gasped on his knees, the room spotting black. A hand knotted in his hair but he yanked away before Katagiri got a firm grip. He dropped to all fours a second before pushing off again and grabbing a dresser to stay upright. He turned back just in time to meet Katagiri. He twisted his other hand in the opposite end of the cord and brought it up just as Katagiri slammed into him.
He screamed as the decorative handles of the dresser drove into his raw back, but he succeeded in getting the cord around Katagiri's neck.
The large man gagged in surprise. He had not seen this move coming. Grimmjow had the cord twisted over his neck and yanked as hard as he could.
It wasn't hard enough. They were so close together, his grip was too weak, and Katagiri ended it with a head butt.
Grimmjow saw black. He knew he fell, but he didn't feel the floor strike him. He didn't feel, or see or know anything for several minutes. But when he woke up, he did know it was over.
He couldn't see Katagiri, but he felt his hands on his ankle. He felt that leg go taught a moment while something tightened around it. He felt tight pressure on his wrists and pain in his shoulder blades from how tightly his hands were restrained above his head. He felt cool sheets beneath his over-heated body. He felt terror so cold and profound it threatened to burn right through him.
The lamp lay forgotten across the room. Something was next to it. He saw now it was his boxers. He was face down, his head to one side. He could only see Katagiri when he moved before him.
He was already naked.
"If it's any consolation, I was going to break you no matter what you chose." He disappeared from sight again, but a hand ghosted over his ruined back. He shivered in pain. The hand kept going, over his spine, past his hips.
His breath became short and fast. He squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to take himself away, to anywhere but here. So much hurt already, his body had taken too much. Just pass out, he begged himself. Don't make me endure this.
Knees settled on either side of his waist. A hand planted right before Grimmjow's face, and a breath washed over his cheek, watching his panicked breath.
"Oh son, I haven't even started."
He bit down on Grimmjow's shoulder. His hands slipped beneath his body and grabbed his hip.
"Are you ready to be unmade?"
The whole room filled with Grimmjow's scream. The pain of it was a hundred times worse than his first time with Aizen. And there was no mercy in his movements. Before the end, the sheets were soaked with his tears.
"I told you, you would cry." This hiss came through the sobs. And then came hands, and twisting restraints and more heat and sweat and unbearable pain.
He was too faint to scream by the time Katagiri finished with him. All he knew by then was that he'd been taken in full, he'd been claimed and devoured by another man and he would never in his life be able to escape the scent of it, the taste of it, the agony of it.
know, I'm evil, poor, poor Grimmjow.
~ZQ