Prisoner of War

BY : Squallfan
Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 53597
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters. I do not profit from this story.

AN: All story warnings that I could not fit in Summary: Anal,Angst,Bond,D/s,Dom,HJ,Humil,Language,M/F(Very slight),M/M,M/s,Minor(first chapter only)
Moresome,N/C,Oral,S&M,Slave,SoloM,Spank,Toys,Voy,Yaoi,WIP, Torture, Rimming

Chapter 1

"Aizen, do you think it is wise to keep him?"

Aizen sipped wine, savoring the rich taste of the deep red liquid and looked at Tosen with mild contemplation. He had wondered that himself, but it had been a fleeting thought at best. Maybe not wise, but he was far from a danger now. The battle was won, it was cause for celebration; not worry. Few of the espada had survived the war, but there were plenty of other arrancar to take their places.

"Do not trouble yourself with this, Tosen." He took another sip, then set the glass aside. "You seem overly concerned about him, but none of the others we took prisoner. Why is that?"

"He nearly upset our victory, or have you forgotten?"

"Oh, it's very clear in my memory, have no doubt." He smirked, tilting his head back a little and tapping his fingers on his throne. "Perhaps that is why I kept him alive. Have you thought of that, my friend?"

"Strange hobby you have taken up, Aizen." Tosen's blind eyes stared at nothing, but took in everything at the same time.

"Call it a personal experiment." He shrugged his shoulder slightly, and looked back to him questioningly. "The hollow?"

"Separated from the prisoner and put in containment like you asked. The reiatsu radiating off him was hard to confine, but we succeeded well enough. Even now Kurosaki's reiatsu is tremendous, but stable since we put the limiter around his neck. With that he should be nearly as helpless as he would be in his human form."

Aizen nodded, pleased with the report. "Is he prepared?"

"As you asked, Aizen."

"Very well. You may go celebrate with the others if you wish."

Tosen turned to leave, but he stopped before he headed for the door. "Are you not coming?"

"I'll be celebrating in my own way," he chuckled soft, the sound floating hauntingly through the large hall.

Tosen gave a short, silent nod and then stepped gracefully from his presence. Aizen sat and listened to the silence with his absence and twirled his forefinger in his wine. Victory was indeed sweet. He sucked droplets off his fingertip, and smirked. Today Kurosaki would be deciding if he lived or died, and not even be aware he was making the decision. Aizen pulled his finger slow from his mouth and stood to go greet his captive.

His footsteps made not a sound as he moved slowly along, taking his time to get to his destination. The pale halls of the palace were covered with shadows, the moon dancing light here and there. He loved the solemn colors and dull textures of Hueco Mundo. It made Seireitei seem childish with it's bright color and radiant sunlight. It's destruction had been more than a pleasure, it had been therapeutic.

He ran his fingertips soft over rough stone as he moved along like a spectre. His nerves felt alive with anticipation for what was to come, but no one would be able to tell by his calm and cool exterior. It was this gift that got him his position here as leader of the arrancar. Trust was never an issue, just the proof of his strength and determination was enough to win them over.

The door was ahead, and he stopped before it when he reached the threshold, placing his hand on the cool, dark wood. He closed his eyes and smiled when he felt the reiatsu that was coming from the room. Yes, still strong but he could feel the obstruction from the limiter restricting Kurosaki's ability to do anything with it. His hand slipped to the knob and he stepped in, letting the door shut behind him, the sound a echoing thud in the large chamber.

Kurosaki's back was to him, his head bowed over as he hung by his bound wrists that were secured above his head, the thick chain hooked solidly to the ceiling. Torches along the wall flickered a soft glowing light over his naked back. The remains of black cloth was still around his waist and covered his legs, but just barely through jagged rips. His bare feet were almost on tip toes to keep the pressure off his arms. It was a deliciously pitiful sight.

Aizen stood silently for a moment, watching him hang there and breathe soft, his hands gripping at the chain connected to his shackles. He was certain that the young man knew he was the one standing behind him, but Kurosaki had yet to utter a word, or make any sound in acknowledgement. Aizen couldn't really blame him for the silent treatment. What was there to say in the face of defeat? Long seconds ticked by as he watched, letting his eyes trail over the muscles of his slim back. Kurosaki's feet shifted, making his body sway softly with the movement. Aizen heard the whisper of a pained hiss and slowly smirked. Not so quiet after all.

"Thinking of escape?" He got no answer, so he walked over to and around his swaying body. He met narrowed eyes and a sneer. Not the expression he was expecting, but he was more than pleased with it. "A look with such vicious intent. If your skill was as fiery as your personality, maybe you wouldn't be in this position right now."

"Shut up!"

"I hit a nerve." Aizen watched his face twist with fury and loathing, and his body jerked threateningly toward him, but in his bound state he only fell forward weakly and nearly lost his footing all together.


"Go to hell," he growled and righted himself once again.

"Extraordinary. I didn't think you'd still have so much fight left." He eyed the metal collar he had on with satisfaction, then looked up at the strong curve of his chin. His mouth frowned deep, making him look older than he actually was. Dried blood covered the side of his face and his torso from the last battle, but the wounds had been healed by his orders. "You're absolutely filthy, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Again he was met with the same silence as when he entered the chamber instead of a sharp curse. A small table was set up like he'd ordered and he dunked a clean wash cloth in a bowl of warm water. He rang it out, with a soft tsk as if he was annoyed he had to clean the young man of old blood. He moved to wipe his face, but he jerked his head away defiantly.

"Let's be pleasant, shall we?" Aizen grabbed his chin tight enough to make him hiss with renewed pain. He wiped soft and delicate along his skin in contrast to his hard grip. Pulling back, released him to rinse the cloth, watching the water turn pink in color and he swirled it around.

"What is the point of this?" His voice lost some of it's sharp edge, turning to weary confusion.

"Surely you don't like being covered in blood?" he asked, bringing the cloth back up to wipe along his chest.

"You know what I mean, dammit! Why am I here?!"

"Your emotions are like a rollercoaster, but you are very young." He continued to clean his skin with soft strokes, wiping over muscle and contours with special care, rinsing as the cloth got soiled red. "Perhaps that is another reason why you failed."

"Is that it? You want to rub it in my face?" He sighed soft and watched his enemy. "And you think I'm the one who's childish." His whole body ached to the bone. The fixed position he was in prevented any kind of comfort or real movement, and if he tried he only swayed like a puppet on strings. He wanted to be away from this monster, but he was trapped completely, chains or not. "Why are you cleaning me?" he asked after minutes of eerie silence and soft brushes.

"In battle, blood is unavoidable. Fresh, wet, deep red in color. I do enjoy that very much, but when there are not swords brandished for the kill, blood is merely offensive." His tone was as gentle as his swipes with the cloth, but it masked a cold indifference. When he was finally done he folded the cloth and set it aside neatly next to the bowl.

"You're twisted," Ichigo said, and watched him warily. The whole chamber spoke of pain and torture. He didn't even want to know what was under the white sheet that blanketed the other end of the table, but he could see bulges and humps from some hidden devices. This charade was all the calm before the storm that was sure to come. He was afraid, but had the strength to hide it well enough, or at least he hoped.

"You're allowed your opinion, but only so much." He smiled and went to move closer. Ichigo found the will and threw up his leg to knee his gut, but he yelled when it was easily caught and pulled up higher, leaving him hanging by his wrists. Pain flared up his back and though his weary limbs as he was yanked forward more against his captor's body and forcibly held there. "Now what did I just say about pleasantries, hm?"

"Pleasant, my ass! Let go of me!" He grunted and twisted his body, fighting the muscle spasms to bring his other leg up to knock him away. It only managed a weak push that did nothing to relieve the situation. Aizen gripped him harder and yanked his hair in a tight hold to get his attention, Ichigo hissed through clenched teeth and refused to stop struggling.

"Oh yes, you are going to be entertaining," Aizen mused softly, looking deep into his eyes with a gaze of possessiveness. He let him go without warning and moved to the table.

"Dammit!" The sudden drop jarred his back and he groaned low, placing his feet back as well as he could in their previous position. He lifted his head to see what his tormentor was doing, only to look down again when he saw him smiling pleasantly. All he could do was brace for the inevitable pain. He closed his eyes, panting heavy from the exertion. His arms were getting numb. He wasn't sure if that or the pain was worse. He chanced another look at Aizen and found he was no longer smiling, but looking at him with contempt.

"Tell me, substitute shinigami, what made you think you could beat me?"

"I had to believe it," he croaked through a dry throat.

"That's inspiring," Aizen chuckled, and moved to a bucket of ice with a bottle of wine chilling. He popped the cork and continued as he poured a glass. "That title you have, substitute shinigami, is a joke. I've never heard of such an absurd thing."

"Maybe you just weren't important enough to be in on the secret," Ichigo muttered.

"Cute. Still have that fire, I see. Well, I haven't really gotten started with you yet, so there is plenty of time for you to be humbled." He looked at the young man, lifting the glass in toast. "Congratulations on your loss." He downed the wine in a few swallows. "Mm, exquisite."

"Asshole," Ichigo muttered.

"Alright then. Shall we begin?" He set the glass aside and walked around him. Ichigo bit down the instinct to beg, panting harder when Aizen disappeared behind him. The rest of his shredded clothing was ripped from his body and his eyes widened when he was rendered nude as well as incapacitated.

"What are you doing?"

"You won't be needing those scraps for the rest of our session, Kurosaki." He moved back around and let his eyes roam, much to Ichigo's distaste. He frowned at Aizen again, mustering up as much dignity as he could when his face got hot with disgrace. "Would you prefer I called you Ichigo?"

"Is that supposed to matter, you sick bastard?"

"Ichigo, it is." He smirked, then turned to the table with the ambiguously covered tools. He couldn't take his eyes away even as he pulled the sheet aside to reveal what lay beneath. "Not what you were expecting?" Aizen asked when he saw Ichigo's horrified expression. The table was covered with an array of sex tools and toys that would make a stripper blush.

"What....the hell is this?" Ichigo rasped. The chains holding him clanked and shook when he shifted.

"Your future," Aizen answered softly, picking out two small clamps with a small chain connecting them.

"Damn you."

"Oh wait, this won't do." Aizen put the clamps back down then took a piece of ice from the wine bucket. He moved forward and Ichigo tried unsuccessfully to move back. Cold pressed to his right nipple and he cursed, hitching his leg to kick him. Caught again, he sagged against Aizen and shuddered fiercely. "You are very determined," he said, holding him in a crude position, playing the ice over his nipples with a look of mild interest.

Ichigo bit down on his lip and closed his eyes tight, willing himself not to vomit. Being this close to the man, having to feel his nude skin brush against him was enough to make his stomach churn violently. The ice was melting, sending drops of water down his chest. He held his breath, feeling his nipples tighten and rise hard with the cold sensation. The breath finally released when he was let back down again and free of his touch.

"That's better." Aizen took up the clamps and was too quick for Ichigo to even attempt to turn his body away. Stinging pain surrounded the already throbbing nubs when he fastened them in place.

"Bastard," he hissed. The pain was easily bearable compared to the agony he had felt from wounds since he'd become a shinigami. The shot to his pride and the humiliation was far worse, and Aizen had only just begun to scratch the surface of his sickening fun by the look of the toys he had displayed.

"I think I'll have to take care of those kick happy legs of yours as well. Don't blame me for your further inability to move," he said coolly, moving to the other side of the room to lower the chain so his feet touched the floor squarely. They almost gave out on him, but he stayed upright with effort. His arms got a fraction of relief now that he was off his toes and on his feet properly. Aizen moved around behind him, and he could hear something clanking around like metal. More metal.

It went quiet other than his hectic breathing. His chest was a dull throb, and sweat was forming on his skin like a fine sheen. Ichigo gasped and jerked when cold snapped around his left ankle out of nowhere. Aizen had snuck up from behind easily and caught him off guard. He grunted and looked down in time to see the metal bar between his feet as his legs were yanked apart roughly. The other metal cuff went around his right ankle and locked with a loud snap that made him wince. His legs were spread apart in a fixed position, leaving him vulnerable, and undoubtedly more nervous.

"Now, this is very attractive," Aizen chuckled, walking back around to face him, warm hand moving around on his waist. Ichigo shuddered with the intimate touch, and tried to fathom why this was being done to him. Death would have been honorable, but this thing, this man that was once a shinigami knew nothing of honor. Aizen's other hand rose, touching his fingertips to Ichigo's chest, tracing over his skin to catch the chain attached to the clamps. He smirked, then deftly pulled, tugging his nipples taunt as the clamps held tight to his flesh.

Ichigo grunted with the heightened stinging sensation, but refused to voice his discomfort. Aizen kept up the toying, letting the chain drop, only to pick it up and tug again, alternating between hard and gentle yanks. The throbbing increased, and his body felt hotter as it was abused. His fingers probed the right clamp, then rolled it around in a circular motion, making Ichigo gasp out a curse. Aizen smirked when his brave silence finally showed a small sign of breaking.

"It intrigues me how pain can resonate into pleasure with the right kind of stimulation." He leaned in, tongue flicking over metal and sore flesh.

"Stop!" He didn't. Ichigo rough breath was broken and strained, the slick warmth of his vile tongue lashed and teased at his trapped nipple. He couldn't fight his crude intentions, unable to move in self preservation at all. Aizen's hands rested on his slim hips, brushing soft like a lover's as his tongue trailed to the other nipple sensually. His lips enveloped around, sucking metal and nipple as one into his mouth. "Don't..ahn."

Aizen's mouth come off him with a soft, wet popping sound. "Is that pleasure I hear in your tone, Ichigo?"

"No, you sick bastard!"

Aizen chuckled. "Denial is such a pathetic thing." Ichigo swallowed thickly, then hissed, shocked into another groan when he yanked the chain again. "I do love the way the flesh reddens when it's teased enough." His fingers touched again around the now bright colored areola. "Pleasing to the eye." Ichigo shivered involuntarily, and Aizen smiled almost warmly in satisfaction.


Aizen sighed. "Really, is that all you can keep saying?" He grabbed Ichigo's chin and tightened his grip until the young man's mouth opened instinctively to relieve the pressure, then moved smoothly forward and delved his tongue into his mouth. Ichigo's eyes widened and he fought the invading muscle dancing around, feebly trying to force it out with his own tongue. The tight hold Aizen had on his chin prevented him from biting down as he soon realized. "Mm," Aizen pulled back, "shall we keep playing?"

Ichigo's eyes narrowed, but he didn't answer. Any comment would be scrutinized, and saying no would only be ignored. Aizen released his chin and stepped to the table, looking over the contents. Ichigo watched. He picked up his next item of choice and Ichigo blinked, not knowing exactly what it was for. It was a beaded string, the blue beads maybe a few sizes smaller than golf balls. He also picked up a small bottle of oil, then moved back behind him again out of sight.

"What is that?" Silence met his question and he felt the oil being poured down between the cheeks of his ass. Gods!

"So inquisitive," Aizen spoke lightly. He sounded overly pleased and Ichigo's stomach knotted up, his muscles stiffening to try to prevent what was about to happen. Aizen chuckled. "Loosen up or this may become uncomfortable."

"Loosen up?! You're insane!" Unable to close his legs, all he could do was stand there shivering when the first sensation of pressure pushed to his anus. Shocked, he nearly yelped when the first bead fought through his tight anal opening and inside him.

"You're tight." Aizen's voice was a purr and he slide the next bead along behind the other.

"Take it out!"

"The oil is helping, but if you don't stop tensing up the effect will be diminished," he said with soft calm, fingers teasing around his opening before he pressed another bead against it.

"Damn you!" This was a nightmare. What was his purpose? Was it all just to humiliate him, to rub salt in the wound of his defeat? His face burned and he whimpered when a fourth slide in, easier than the last. "Why?"

"There's not one sole reason, Ichigo. Maybe we'll discuss it someday." Another slid in. His ass was clamping around them as he shuddered, gasping as sweat rolled lightly off his body. It felt foreign and dirty. Another. "You're opening up more now. Even though you're questioning why, your body accepts."


A cool chuckle. "Denial again. You're very repetitive, Ichigo Kurosaki." His cruel finger pushed yet another bead inside his trembling body.

"Ah!" Too deep. The first bead pushed against his prostate, sending a unwanted jolt of pleasure through his loins.

"Well, sounds like I've found the magic button." Ichigo could almost hear the smile that was surely plastered on his lips. "There are a few more. Shall I keep going?"

"I hate you," he groaned.

Aizen laughed soft. "No, I think that is far enough." He walked back around to the table again. "How does it feel?" He picked up a thick leather strap that had a handle on the end. Ichigo watched in solemn silence, thinking several words to describe the pressure in his backside, but didn't have the wish to speak in fear his voice would tremble as his body was. He wanted it out. He hated how his balls tightened, and how his cock was giving little jerks. "Silence? Hm. No matter." He looked to Ichigo's eyes. "Perhaps I'd rather hear your screams." With that he went back behind him with the leather strap.

"AH!" The leather whacked over his ass with a cracking sound, causing his muscles to tense, the tremor making the first bead press again to that inner spot that sent a jolt of pleasure. Aizen chuckled and gave him another sharp smack, the effect exactly the same. His ass began to get warmer as he was abused, a sting rising up on his tender skin. His tunnel clenched and urged the beads up to graze his prostate, sending hot blood through his cock. His organ hardened and throbbed between his legs. He shook his head even as his loins responded. St...stop!," he yelled, voice breaking when another well placed smack went across his cheeks, making his muscles jerk and stimulate the beads again.

"Your skin is very red now. Erotic, I must admit."

"Take it out of me, or I swear I'll.."

"You'll what?!" Aizen's soft voice went hard and cold. He gripped Ichigo's hair and yanked his head back until his neck was taunt against the collar and his face was twisted with pain. "You're my helpless little bitch here, Ichigo," he growled against his ear, then licked over the lobe.

Ichigo made a sick sound. "Bastard!"

"Curse me all you want. It won't change where you are now." He released the hold on his hair, and Ichigo hung his head gasping for breath and coughing. His throat burned with thirst, but he didn't bother asking for a drink. He whimpered when Aizen's hand brushed over the tender skin softly. "Again, pain has brought pleasure." He pressed against Ichigo's back and brought a hand around to trace fingers over his erection. "Oh, what's this?"

"Don't..touch it..ah..." This was so wrong. His first sexual experience and it was rape with a man, not to mention a sadistic enemy. Ichigo shivered when his fingers slide up the underside, then ran over the head through pre-cum that leaked like tears.

"I do believe your body is crying for release," he said husky, nibbling soft on his shoulder and playing a forefinger over the slit on the soaked head. Ichigo bit his lips to keep from sobbing, hands curling into first above his head to dig his nails into his palms. The chain whispered a metallic sound with the soft shift. "But, not yet. I'm not near done yet, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Ichigo let out a held breath when Aizen's body moved from against him, his cock bobbing alone once again. He gasped when the beads slowly began getting tugged free of his opening. That in itself made his body quiver as each bead left his tunnel. The pressure off his prostate cleared his head and his eyes narrowed again with renewed anger at this deviant torture he was being put through. Aizen wanted to break him thoroughly. To what end; Ichigo didn't know, but he couldn't give in.

Aizen was at the table again, but Ichigo didn't bother looking this time. Whatever tool he came up with this time, he didn't want to know. When Aizen neared, he grasped his erection and started to slide something over the head. Ichigo jerked and looked down to see him easing a cock ring over his length, working it down until it rested around the base. It clung snugly to his skin, dulling the spasmodic throbbing.

"Let's see how you react when you want to climax, but can't." He smirked into Ichigo's sickened face and rubbed over the hard flesh with deliberate and firm strokes.

"Mn.." Ichigo turned his head against his arm to keep from having to look at Aizen's smug face. He tried to concentrate on the pain in his back and numb arms, and even the last traces of the stinging sensation over his ass. The hand stroking him moved with practiced precision, building a steady rhythm that made his thighs tremble and his balls rise and tighten. "Ah!" He let the sound slip too easy, and Aizen was encouraged, cupping his tight balls, fingers massaging and rolling them obscenely.

"You sound like you're enjoying it. Ready to beg yet?"


"More encouragement then." Aizen released his erection and moved away for another toy. Ichigo was blind to it, keeping his face against his arm, eyes closed tight with frustration. His cock felt hot and heavy, jerking for an orgasm that was being denied. He prayed for a splash of cold water to cool his body from the lurid need to let go, but such a gift would not come. More oil was being poured down his crack. He didn't curse or yell as he felt the slick warmth cascaded down over his ass and the back of his legs. "Be prepared, this is much bigger than the beads," he said, pressing something thick and rubbery against his opening.

"It hurts!" The toy was being slid in slow, but the thickness of it was too much. He was tense again, trying to repel the foreign object instinctively from his insides.

"Don't blabber like a baby. It's just a vibrator. I told you before to relax your body, and you still insist on stiffening up," he said, sounding stony. Ichigo felt it coming back out, and he thought he'd changed his mind, then it was thrust back in deeper. He grimaced, hearing the wet sound of the oil as he was penetrated with the vibrator. The oil coated it more each time it was pulled and thrust in, making the motion more smooth. The pain ebbed away the longer he thrust it in his ass, and his breath caught when the tip reached his prostate. Ichigo felt soft straps being belted around his upper thighs and up over his hips. He could only guess it was to keep the vibrator in place so Aizen could go to other pursuits. "Perfect."

"Gods!" The vibe was turned on and it buzzed snug against his prostate. Pleasure rippled through his midsection and along his bobbing cock.

"Interesting feeling?"


"Well, from the reaction, that must be a yes," he said as he came around to face him again. He grabbed Ichigo's chin to force him to look his way. He couldn't fight his strength, his weakened condition preventing him to do anything but obey. "You look absolutely tortured," he whispered, brushing a thumb over his lips. Ichigo tried to bite him, but he pulled his thumb back too fast to give him the pleasure. "No, no." His hands went back to work on his throbbing loins.

Ichigo watched the monster with loathing, even as his body submitted to his toying. It was the only form of defiance he had left. The buzzing of the vibe filled his ears, his own panting breath playing along with it. Humiliation wasn't enough to stop the pleasure and he groaned again as the toy continued it's torturous vibration over his prostate. Aizen's hands heightened the reaction it bought. He panted faster, the throbbing becoming near to unbearable. His face burned with shame when his hips jerked for a climax he couldn't have. Aizen smirked, making the blow to his spirit that much harder.

"All you have to do is beg, and I'll let you come." The slapping of flesh accentuated with the sound of his coaxing voice.

"No," he rasped, but it sounded weak and without feeling. His loins ached and throbbed more the longer he toyed his length, leaving him whimpering and jerking helplessly. Aizen lowered and took the head of his cock in his mouth swiftly, rolling and swiping his tongue around, keeping up the strokes on his length. "'t.." The pleasure doubled, and had him shaking. The chains rattled in protest. His hips jerked more, a sobbing cry ripping from his dry throat. It hurt too much. "Please.." Aizen's mouth slipped off and his hand stroked deeper, up and over the head and back to the base more slowly.


"Please," he said again.

"Say it," Aizen growled and stood, hand tight over his needy erection, stroking faster.

Ichigo groaned out a soft sob. "Please!"

"Of course, you poor tortured thing." He pulled the ring off with his fingertips swiftly as he came up from a stroking motion and set his captive free. Ichigo moaned deep, jerking his hips, tears rolling down his face as he spent hard onto the stone floor at his feet. Tremors took over his nerves and he twitched, gasping through the uncontrollable ecstasy.

Losing the rest of his strength, he hung his head, hanging there as shame filled him ten fold. Aizen released his softening cock, then worked the straps loose to pull the vibrator free from his spent body. The wet suction sound that came with it made him bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing with disgust. He expected he would be killed now, and maybe that would be for the best considering the circumstances of his loss and new humiliation. Something in him burned deep though; something that ached for justice. He wanted to kill Aizen with every fiber of his being.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ichigo," Aizen said, lifting his head up by his hair.

"I'm going to kill you." Everything in him wanted to destroy the man that had taken away his entire world.

"So, the decision is made," Aizen said, a look of unbound fulfillment in his cool eyes. He walked across the room to the far corner, grabbing a branding iron from red hot coals, quickly with purpose. Ichigo swallowed and waited, stomach knotting when he saw him walk closer with the glowing red iron. Captured, he could do nothing but scream when the hot pain flared on his chest when Aizen pressed the brand to his skin. It was quick, but the stark pain lingered. His vision wavered as he groaned through the hideous agony. Aizen stood before him with a lusty smile that reached his eyes. "You live, Ichigo Kurosaki, and I own you." Ichigo shuddered one last time as realization froze his soul, and he fell into the darkness of unconsciousness.

AN: I don't tend to usually write fiction like this. I have only ever written one rape fic, and it was a woman dominating a man. As far as the underage, again, I don't usually go there. Ichigo will only be 15 in the first chapter. This is a time passing kind of fic. I honestly can picture Aizen being this twisted. **shrug* Anyway, if this kind of story is not for you, don't read.

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