Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Perpetual ❯ Indifference ( Chapter 16 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Tite Kubo owns Bleach and the characters and gets paid for it. I don't. I just write these to amuse myself and because the voices tell me to.
Warning: Mutilation and graphic violence.
Indifference
The man drew back almost as soon as her arms encircled him. He didn't want her.
That couldn't be right. All the men she'd met since she'd arrived wanted to have sex with her. Stark did as well, but he wouldn't admit it.
"Please," she whispered. Just the word. Only a small sound in the quiet of the room, but his arms reluctantly touched her, came to rest on her shoulders, no further.
"Please," she said again and pushed closer, feeling him harden. He wanted her, she was still desirable, and that realisation made her feel a little bit of power. Power when she normally felt weak and defenceless.
"No," Stark said and pushed her away. "Not now; not me."
Confused Orihime stared at him. He wanted her, she'd felt the proof, but why was he saying no? It didn't make sense.
"I don't mind."
A deep sigh met that comment. "You're repeating yourself. A person who really wanted to fuck," he used heavy emphasis on the word, "would convince me. You're unwilling, scared and I'm not Aizen."
The words drove her back. If he had slapped her it might not have shocked her as much.
Only one other person had rejected her. Not that it was possible to claim that the way Ichigo had treated her was rejection as much as disinterest. Both Stark and Ichigo had little concern for her and she thought she loved Ichigo. Her emotions toward the man standing in the room with her were barely noticeable. She had hoped for comfort and consolation, but it wasn't happening. His disinterest was distasteful.
Even the way he looked at her diminished her. No appreciation of her figure, no hint of lust in his gaze, only cool appraisal which made her hasten to cover herself. She didn't like Stark and wanted him to leave. Her was not ready to protect her.
Aghast at a sudden realisation, she felt tears form in her eyes. Despite the lust, despite the need to feel warmth and another person's presence, one of the main reasons she had been willing to have sex with most of the men was now clear.
She'd hoped that if the men enjoyed her, they'd protect her from Aizen, just as they had. All this time her motives had been hidden even from her. Yes, she had enjoyed the sensations and revelled in the desire she'd seen in the men's eyes but for all that while they used her, she was preparing to use them; as weapons.
No matter how many times she restored the virginity to her body, this revelation stole the last of her innocence. The situation may have forced her hand, but instead of using words and standards Ichigo adhered to, like honour and kindness, friendship and loyalty, she had instead reached for power.
A limited power, it was true. Power over men through desire and the promise of providing more of what they wanted in return for....
In return for the death of the sadistic man who had taken her from her friends and caused so much pain and destruction.
His death would mean the end of the war.
If he died she could go home, back to her normal life. Except there could be no return to the innocent girl who had thought little past her school work, friendships and love for a person who was still in her heart.
Yet her feelings for Ichigo had changed. While she still craved his love, she was no longer worthy of it. Her experiences had formed her into a different person, one who was both braver and more manipulative than she would ever normally have become and maybe even stronger too. At first she thought it had made her weaker, but for the fact that she still tried to resist. All this placed immoveable barriers between them that she questioned whether she wanted removed.
She feared his pity.
The man who had brought her to this room and away from the fighting pitied her. He didn't need to say it, but having experienced pity from Urahara, Yoruichi, Rukia and so many of her so-called friends, she knew the expression, the feel of the emotion. Until now she had not seen that emotion in Ichigo's eyes but the day she did, she knew it would cause her unimaginable pain.
Pity did not equate to love. Love born from pity would always be tainted. It was not even love, but a warped form of compassion that could only become drier the more it was used until eventually all the original intention had been worn away and the anger underneath broke through to the surface. Pity was one of those things that didn't last, especially if the person then seemed to expect the pity and the minor benefits which might accompany the emotion. The benefits never overwhelmed the cost that accompanied it or the wear and tear on the friendship. An unequal relationship was fragile and pity gave all the power to the one who pitied.
Instead of talking to Stark any further she searched the room, gathering items of clothing. Naked meant defenceless. Naked meant exposure. If Aizen defeated those who were fighting on her behalf he would hunt her and she did not want to be found exposed and defenceless. Instead of only putting up a token fight she was determined to win, or die. Death was preferable to living as Aizen's whore.
Slight romanticism coloured this decision. If she were dead, Ichigo might mourn for her and realise he loved her. Stupid notion, but it appealed to her.
Small alterations mixed with layering and she was covered. The clothing felt tight and heavy. After being naked for so long it might take her some time to adapt to the limits it applied.
"You've made a decision."
She'd dismissed Stark from her thoughts and forgot he was in the room. "There is only one decision."
"I don't buy it. You can't have changed so quickly." the light mocking tone in his voice made her turn.
"Ever since I arrived here, I've been changed and I'm still changing and it's not by my choice." Instead of using the hushed and respectful tones she normally employed, her voice was firm.
"You'll lose if you fight him." Stark seemed disinterested but a single line formed between his eyebrows.
"All this time I've accepted what happens while waiting for others to protect me. You won't." There was more she could say, but why explain to this man? He wasn't interested.
The crease vanished and he nodded. "It's a drag, but I'll help you."
She could feel her mouth drop open. "Pardon me?"
"I don't go for the whole princess routine, or sex as payment which you've used 'til now. You're ready to fight. It's almost too late, but I can respect you." Turning from her, he picked up a book and began to turn the pages.
Anger sparked in Orihime. Sex as payment and princess routine! The man was so insolent and it was humiliating to have two of the tactics she'd been using exposed so painfully.
Loud slapping of feet against the floor indicated someone was running down the hallway. Gin Ichimaru burst through the door. "Stark, Orihime. Aizen's coming. He's injured Tosen, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra but decided not to kill them until they could watch him rape Orihime again."
"Listening outside the door again Ichimaru? Or were you watching everything through the monitors? You're a pervert." Stark drawled the last words in the most insulting manner.
"Yeah, and I value your good opinion. You might want to run, girl."
"It stops here. I won't run." Orihime was pleased her voice didn't shake and it sounded both firm and convincing.
The man smiled at her in disbelief. "Of course you'll run. No one else is going to help you. Stark won't and I rate my life too much."
Standing straight in the strange clothing, she felt a fierce determination inside. "I'm trapped here. No matter how far I run there will be someone here who want something from me, be it sex, healing or my death. There is nothing for me back in my world." The words were true.
"Do you want him to rape you? This time he won't hold back." Former Captain Ichimaru seemed both worried and unpleasantly elated by the thought.
She gave a mirthless laugh. "He never has held back."
Stark patted her gently on the shoulder. "You said that without crying. I'm impressed."
Her eyes felt dry and sharp. Previously any of this would have reduced her to a weeping ruin, but that was the girl she'd been.
Once again footsteps could be clearly heard coming down the hallway and it was not only one person. There seemed to be the sounds of protesting people being dragged and some loud swearing.
The former Captain appeared agitated. "I can't let Souske see me here!"
"Do you have a choice?" A cold smile was on Stark's face. "This may be one situation you can't wriggle out from, Ichimaru."
The door slammed against the wall, making the structure shudder from the impact. Orihime didn't even bother to look. She knew who it was. The man was using everything to indicate his power and she honestly didn't care. Obvious show didn't indicate anything except a need to impress and he didn't impress her; not now.
"Little toy. My silly plaything ran away, but not far enough. I told you that there was no escape from me and I mean to prove it," Aizen's voice was as strong and confident as before, but instead of inspiring a mixture of thrill and fear from her chest she only felt distaste and contempt. Again she refused to look in his direction. The sight of the man might either make her laugh or vomit.
"Stark, Gin. You may remain. I'm going to instruct my little doll here how to pay proper respect to her master." Again the oozing confidence of the man sickened her.
The men didn't reply directly. The slight breath of sound might be Stark chuckling, but it didn't change anything. This had to end today, either way.
"Too scared to look at me, little miss? Little Miss What? Not Little Miss Perfect. Or Little Miss Innocent. Look at me. I demand you acknowledge me." Taking a position directly in front of her, his shadow stretched over her, and caused a slight chill to race over her skin.
"I'm not scared." Orihime still refused to raise her eyes.
"Modest little miss. The audience is larger now. Those who pretended to care will watch your initiation into anal sex."
Swallowing the rush or saliva that filled her mouth, the reaction startled her. She'd known his intention, but to hear it spoken aloud again made it seem real and possible. Her knees shook a little, but she remained standing. Either she did nothing, or fought back.
She felt a presence close to her and the quick rush of words pass her ear. "Scared? I like it best when you're scared and fight back. I like resistance. Getting into you is that much harder and hurts you more."
The man was deliberately trying to terrify her but she would not submit. "I'm not scared of you," she half whispered, half hissed.
"Yes you are," Aizen hissed back. "If you're not then, you're lying to yourself." His clutch on her hair brought her face up so she could look at him, but she stubbornly kept her eyes lowered. The pain in her head increased as he pulled on her hair, tightly wrapping it around his hand as he tugged her head back further. Abruptly he let go and her head fell jarringly forward.
Before she could move further, her arms and legs were gripped and pulled apart. She could feel there were four people holding her. Almost instinctively she began to summon her powers, but stopped. There was one chance and if she summoned her powers too early the opening might disappear. She steeled her nerves and waited.
"Due to the strange garb you've adopted, rather fetching in its way, I'll let you retain some of it. Clothing ripped to display rather than conceal will serve my purpose." As he spoke a faint sensation of pressure was present on the lower half of her body and the seam between her legs was ripped open.
"I only need that part of you. The rest is for appearance and possible later use."
Instead of instilling the fear he anticipated, this move strengthened her resolve. The man was all about threats, intimidation and hurting those he thought weaker, or those who were stronger but not prepared for the low acts to which he was prepared to stoop.
"I was prepared to permit you some privacy, but foolish child, you ran away. All present here will see this and will never forget what they witnessed. Nor will you forget anything. You won't be permitted."
Saliva pooled at the back of her throat, then it closed and it wasn't possible to swallow. She gagged slightly, desperately trying not to cough or show weakness. It was important she was strong now and didn't forsake her earlier resolve. The impulse to cough grew stronger and she concentrated on breathing normally, desperate to not permit her body to betray her reaction to his words.
"I had planned to be kinder to you, but you ran. Now you require punishment as well as being broken in. " His voice hardened and he demanded of someone, "Bring the bucket."
It seemed unlikely he was asking her to bring the bucket and she couldn't see why he needed one. Unless there was something in the bucket he required, but nothing she thought of made sense. In spite of her intentions, she looked. The bucket was large and brimming with water, placed on top of a small, low table. There was no discernable steam rising from the surface of the water, and it seemed unlikely he wished for her to was before he violated her once more, so what was the purpose?
"Bend her," Aizen said, the low note of his voice actually throbbing with many meanings. He used others to bend her to his will, and if she bent, it was a submissive gesture. The hands holding her were strong and there was little point in fighting.
As he body was pressed forward, her head approached the bucket and the truth finally broke over her. The man intended to punish her by holding her head under water while he raped her, making the attack doubly vicious and her attempts to resist even more futile.
Her father.
That memory had been roused earlier today when Mister Tosen had visited her while she was sleeping. He was nothing like her father, but he had woken her from a sound sleep by sitting on her bed, as her father had done, many times.
Millimetre by millimetre her head was forced closer to the bucket and she felt her flanks being bared, by her forced downward motion, the cloth was parting, to prepare her for Aizen less than gentle attentions.
Her father.
The thought beat in the back of her brain as she was forced closer again to the water, her knees bending due to the pressure of the force being used to push her down. Now she could feel his hands hard, digging into her buttocks as he began to spread them apart.
Aizen's hands were on her, only on the part of her which was his current interest. He wasn't going to lubricate her or prepare her in any way. Just like ....
Her father.
The memory she had blocked and denied was slowly forcing it's way to the surface. Her brother had explained, many times that she had not been to blame. Hearing his words and comparing them to the words her father had used, that it was her fault, and only she was to blame had caused her to force the memories into the deep pit at the back of her mind.
Now she began to struggle, her face so close to the water, that her nose grazed the surface. This had happened once before. She'd firmly believed she would die. It had been done to her by that man.
Her father.
A hard, hot object now tried to force its way into her anus. The water in front of her, the man intent on violating her painfully in public, she had one chance. One simple chance to change the balance of power back to her favour.
The head of Aizen's prick was now lodged inside her, painfully rasping against the dry skin and causing miniature tears that wept tiny amounts of blood. It had happened with one quick shallow thrust and from this beginning she knew he was going to take his time and make her feel the pain of each additional move.
Before her mouth was covered by the water, she yelled: "I Reject!"
The hands moved, ripped from where they were holding her and she was suddenly unfettered. Bodies thudded to the ground, and confused she wasn't certain she'd counted accurately. The pain in her anus remained and she quickly stood and turned around. Aizen was huddled on the floor, his hands pressed tightly to his groin, a red stain spreading rapidly under his clutching fingers, his eyes half shut.
If he wasn't still inside her, what was? Reaching behind her, a small projection was encountered by her searching hands. Pulling at it, it came loose and she looked at what she held. It seemed to be part of a penis.
Laughter bubbled in her throat. She had rejected him, but as part of him had been buried within her, that part had remained and severed part of his cock, the part she was now holding. The men she believed had been holding her were on the floor also, stunned or unconscious she didn't care.
A sharp clapping sound drew here attention to Stark. "Revenge? Fitting revenge. Are you going to heal him?"
"Heal him? So he can rape others? Some might call it compassion, but he doesn't deserve it." Where did those words come from? All this time she's cared for others and wanted to heal and comfort, but this man didn't merit it.
Some of the people, all men she noticed, in the room nodded, others looked shocked, but each seemed now to regard her with fear except the men who'd been injured defending her. She threw the limp flesh she was holding in the bucket intended to drown her and quickly assessed the damage. Of them all, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were the most hurt and she formed a healing shell over each, not aware that she'd be able to manage it, but as they formed she felt an accompanying surge of energy.
"Help me," Aizen moaned.
"Someone stop the bleeding," Orihime ordered. "Only that."
Gin, no longer former Captain to her, approached her, carefully. "What's happened to you? You've changed."
She shrugged. There was no need to explain anything to this man, or any of the others.
"Not a princess anymore?" The cynical question drew her attention once more to Stark.
"Who needs to be a princess, when you can be an Empress? You'll support me." No point in asking a question when a demand would work effectively.
"But, we're Arrancar and Espada. We only allowed this man to tell us what to do because he was so powerful," Sayzel, she thought his name was, protested.
"She has my support," Gin said.
"And mine," Tosen mumbled through his broken mouth.
A murmur ran through the room. Aizen was powerful, but these two men were slightly less powerful and in all probability could defeat the strongest Espada. This drove some declarations of support, others, glancing nervously as the number increased.
"I don't agree," growled Yammy. "She's rubbish. Dirt. Less than dirt and should be disposed of. I bet Ulquiorra'd agree." He reached toward Orihime as if intending to pick her up and break her.
Swifter than she's seen him move until now, Captain Ichimaru stepped in front of Yammy and the snicker of steel reached her ears as the arm that Yoruichi had severed previously once more fell to the ground.
"Huh?" Yammy stared at his arm and then glared at Gin. "Why'd you do that?"
The smile on the grey haired man contained more than a hint of a sneer. "The one who defeats the ruler is the ruler. "
Yammy poked out his bottom lip and scratched his head. Creases formed around his eyes as he seemed to be thinking. Everyone watched him intently and Orihime wondered if it was because they had never witnessed the man thinking before.
Finally his brow cleared and he looked at Gin. "Does that mean if I defeat her, I get to be ruler?"
Before the words left his mouth there was a flash of steel and his other arm landed on the floor.
"I don't think you'd make a good ruler, Yammy," Stark drawled slowly. "I support the woman as does Ichimaru, Jaggerjacks , Ulquiorra and she's friends with our uninvited guests. We don't have to have a war."
There was silence as people regarded Yammy who was staring at his arms. "My arms. How can I fight without arms?'
"Remove the rubbish," Captain Ichimaru ordered.
A startled Arrancar grabbed the arms while another led Yammy from the room. "We'll try to get you fixed," he said with little belief in his voice.
The silence that fell with the removal made her notice some of the remaining Arrancar were staring at her in disbelief while others shot her short, fearful looks. Instead of making her worry, as she normally did when people looked at her with anything less than approval, this made her feel stronger. She was their ruler. They would not disagree with her orders now. She had proven her ability and had the strongest people there show their support.
"The Winter War won't happen," Orihime spoke with her new authority. "There will be changes, and he," she gestured with disgust at Aizen, "will have his powers stripped from him and serve me as I see fit."
Reaching quickly to her power she examined the man and found the part of his soul that tied his powers to him, which she quickly severed. He gave a sharp, agonised cry and slumped further onto the floor, uncaring of the Arrancar attempting to stop the flow of blood from his wound. The man was now stripped of his main method of harming others. The part of his penis that remained was still leaking blood and only appeared to be a stump. The severed part would be destroyed and no matter what she would never heal the man, no matter the circumstances. Any attempt at healing might restore the things she had found it necessary to remove.
"The invaders? What do you want to do about them?" Gin asked with interest.
Ichigo. He was here! The foolish romantic notions she had about him suddenly fell away as she grasped the futility of her love. Her new position made life with him impossible, but possibly now she could meet with him and the others and explain the new situation. She was the new ruler of Hueco Mundo and she could forge a peace between the Shinigami and Hollows.
"I'll talk to him. Bring him to the throne room," she said. Then glanced down and noticed her clothing.
She'd have to dress in something, but not the clothes Aizen had chosen for her. They were the apparel of a person with no authority. "Don't do it too soon," she said gently wishing to put off the time when she would once more see the boy around whom her world had revolved when she had loved him.
Why did she need love? She had men here willing to die for her who could provide good sex. After all, love could fade, but good sex was hard to find.
 
The End.