Rating: M why? It's so freakin obvious
Pairing: Ichigo x Shirosaki (of course, what else did you expect from me)
Disclaimer: don't own Bleach
Summary: AU, Sold to a demon prince of the underworld as a slave, Ichigo finds himself in more troubles than one.
N/A: my good friend at school (who shall not be named since she doesn't have an account on fanfiction) requested this; she can be really be perverted at times. She was into demons for a moment…and rape too. Oh well, more ideas for me. Whee!!
I can't do the accent since the computer keeps correcting it automatically, sorry. Also any miss spellings, blame the computer. The spell check doesn't really check, sad right.
Oh and thank Acharache for noticing all the mistakes I made, never trusting the computer again. I'm going to edit, print the pages out and edit again to make sure.
I was listening to Sanctuary Reversed by dizydaisy on youtube while editing this. I like hidden messages and the funny thing is that it's telling the entire story of kingdom hearts 2, that's so neat. It's Riku's song. Yahooo!!
How did it come to this? Ichigo didn't know himself. He had been living a wonderful diplomatic life, working for Soul Society as a part-timer, doing some of their jobs. The orange haired man didn't mind any of that even when asked to kill thousands of demons and monsters. He only did the ones that were harmful to regular people and even killed a couple of humans but as long as he got paid, he was fine. So yeah, he needed the money, is that so bad? His family's sake was before him, they were more important then what other people thought. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty if it meant they're safety.
And even so, he didn't even like Soul Society that much or even half the people that lived there (most gave him suspicious glares) but there were a few, very few, people he was familiar with and came close enough to call them friends. Everyone there knew he was a foe not to mess with; he had the abilities and power to defeat most of the workers there and much more. Ichigo went beyond normal limits and surpassed a lot of the captains but this only led to more uncomfortable and threatening essences between the two groups. He knew that certain missions he got from the higher-ups were dangerous beyond imagination, but he had no choice. What would his family, consisting of a father and twin sisters (his mom had died when he was young), do without his support? They needed the money and the small clinic his father ran wasn't earning much for the time being.
But, had he known he would have ended up here, he would have refused his new one immediately. Ichigo grunted, tiredly lifting his head up, arms bonded and with a metal collar snaking around his neck. A long chain was connected to it, almost like he was on a leash. He could hardly breathe and the tightness was painful, especially when the metal rubbed against his bare flesh. The swordsmen wanted to fight back against the holder desperately but his only weapon, Tensa Zangetsu, was gone, taken away.
And he was staring at the most powerful demon from the Hueco Mundo, straight in the eyes. The pools were golden colored with the area which should be white, pitch black and glowing. He could feel the vigorous essence on his mere skin and hair, the sheer force on him. And if Ichigo remembered, he had read about this one before in Soul Society's logs (they liked to keep records of everything in there mainly about their enemies). This one was Shirosaki, the strongest demon prince that ruled a part of the underworld, about half if he was correct, no one there wanted to mess with him and his commanding authority. Not even Aizen, who was the leader of the other half. And he was dressed with nothing but rags (courtesy of the holder).
"Now, Lord Shirosaki, what do you think of this fine slave?" A strange, extremely short man with an ugly face spoke. He made the chain wrap tighter around Ichigo's neck; making sure that his merchandise wouldn't try to run away. The dealer grabbed a large portion of Ichigo's hair, the silky orange locks, and yanked the head up higher to let the demon lord get a better view. Ichigo let out a pained grunt, kicking the dirty man at the side in revenge. His hair was let go but he earned a rough tug on the chain, yanking him forward, landing on the ground brutally face first. The side ached from the abuse, a few of the bruises that were scattered across his body was evidence to that. His brown pools, burning with rage, glanced up at the demon lord, who was staring directly at him apprehensively. The swordsmen could see the pure white hair and skin on the demon that shared some of his similar features, the smooth face, the spiky hair and a few others. The white robes that hanged off the tall muscular frame were long and covered every portion of the body but at the hips, it split, spreading back. It looked like a coat with the inside all black, outlining the tips, flapping at any movement. The pants were also white but they looked like normal pants (they're not the baggy ones but similar just skinnier) but they were was a little puffy at the very bottom.
Ichigo twisted his eyes away from the demon to glare at the dealer in detestation, wishing that the man was dead. He took a faint notice of the room; it was made of dark blue marble mixed with white lines here and there; even the throne Shirosaki was sitting on was white. He retorted back at the insulting 'slave' part with a sneer. "I'm not a slave! Why won't you listen to me! This is just some big mistake!"
"Shut up!" The holder snapped, kicking the swordsmen at the side. "You're a human, a useless pathetic human so shut up!"
"Ugh." A low groan escaped his lips when the man beat him again, striking his bruised spots until he remained quiet, the pain leaving Ichigo temporarily mute. He collapsed to the ground, trying to catch his breath but each one drew a hiss through his teeth.
"Stop that." Shirosaki suddenly demanded, standing up from his throne. He strided down the steps, his footsteps echoing in the distilled room as it went silent instantly. The albino stopped in front of the orange haired man, staring down at him with a lop-sided grin.
Ichigo glowered back, narrowing his eyes and then tensed up, biting the side of his tongue. The dealer was about to boot him again when the demon answered.
"I'll take him. I like that fire burning in his eyes." Shirosaki licked his lips, the blue tongue massaging the bottom one. He beamed, not taking his eyes off his soon-to-be prize. "Not only that, he's quite the beauty, I like him already."
The chocolate eyes widened considerately at the announcement. Ichigo growled, wanting nothing more but to stand up, beat some sense into the two men and get away. He wasn't a slave, he wasn't sold or anything, and he didn't like the stare he was receiving. It sent shivers down his spine; it was filled with lust and anticipation. He cringed for his life. For the first time in a long while, he felt fear.
The dealer noticed the stare his merchandise was getting and grinned in approval. Perhaps he could get a good price out of this one even after all the trouble he had to go through to secure this hot-tempered man. "How about 50,000?"
The swordsmen snapped over, incredibly surprised by the price. That was a lot of money and being spent on him too. How he wished he could earn that much. He almost felt like crying right now. It wasn't fair, even when he was working for Soul Society, he never earned that much, hardly close to a month's pay (cheap bastards).
Shirosaki narrowed his eyes dangerously; the price was too high and he could see the rig in it. He snarled, folding his arms across his chest. "25,000, no more."
"Deal!" The man smiled gleefully, jumping at the value, fingering his thumbs.
The demon prince motioned someone in the darkness to get the money (someone Ichigo hadn't noticed but he did spot the red hair) while he kneeled down, cupping Ichigo's chin with a pale black-nailed finger. He licked his lips again, staring deep into the brown pools. The albino reached over, fiddling with the hair, feeling the silky locks in-between his fingers, he liked it. It ran through his fingers perfectly. His face went close to swordsmen's, his breath brushing along the cheeks. He had really won something magnificent.
"D-Don't…" Ichigo backed up, well, tried to but the chain was still kept on his neck. He knew what the demon wanted to do; it was so obvious that he could see it in the inverted eyes. The fingers in his hair yanked down on the strands, tugging him forward harshly, crushing their lips firmly together. The kiss was extremely short, as if taste testing. Shirosaki lifted Ichigo up to his feet by the collar with ease, eyeing the swordsmen up and down in satisfaction. The orange head wobbled a little from the sudden force but was held still with the demon's help. His legs stabilized so he could stand on his own and willed himself not to double over from his throbbing sides.
"You'll be a nice fuck." Shirosaki smirked and grabbed the metal chain, ripping it off with his bare hands without harming Ichigo's neck. He even shifted the bonds on his prize's arms before carrying him by throwing the swordsmen over his shoulder. Ignoring the fact that Ichigo was resisting all along the way, he snickered at the fury the boy could muster in his state. The orange haired man was throwing fists and cursed the demon, trying anything that would work but it was all in vain. It was actually making Shirosaki more interested than before. Oh, how irony struck him in the back.
"I'm not your fucking toy, let go!" He almost screeched, a little scared out of his mind by what would happen next. Ichigo didn't want to think of that. He didn't want it to come and struggled harder, hitting the demon prince at the chest with his bare fist. But that did absolutely nothing, not even a wince or twitch. If only he had Tensa Zangetsu with him…
Shirosaki tossed the human off his back so he could let the other walk. He had to tug the other to make sure that his prize wouldn't try to get away. Ichigo face tinted a little red when he realized that he was holding hands with the man. The swordsmen squawked when he was yanked over into the demon's chest.
"Don't worry, I'll treat you nicely." The albino whispered into his ear seductively and led the other into a long hallway a little ways behind the throne. The place was hidden in the darkness, shrouded in the obscurity. The swordsmen gazed back for a second; the dealer was already gone, having left through large metal doors (which was probably the entrance). A door opened in front, letting a little light into the dark alley; it was a bedroom. Their shadows slid back across the ground behind them, blending into the darkness as it went. Ichigo glanced around the room, he had to be honest, for a demon prince, the guy sure knew how to live. A large king size bed covered with silky white sheets was in the middle with a chestnut drawer attached to a post with a mirror stand. A nightstand rested next to the bed, a pale blue shade with the light lilted, the radiance flowing out. He spotted a door to the right, closed shut; Ichigo was guessing that that was a closet. Another door was on the left, a bathroom, but he couldn't see much with what little light there was.
Ichigo felt a shiver run down his spine as the realization came onto him like a brick, he doubted he would be coming out of here with everything intact. Before he could think any further into what will happen, two ghostly cold hands grabbed his shoulders, pushing his body onto the bed while releasing a startled cry. Ichigo felt his body bounce on the springs, the soft cushions on his back and the silky sheets curling around his frame. The blankets felt great, he had never experienced such expenses, and he unconsciously gripped a pillow. His stomach shifted, uncomfortable and in trepidation though it had relaxed, just a little. By instinct, he crawled back, his feet tangling in the spread and slipped back, edging to the bedpost.
"Stop it." The swordsmen eyed the grinning albino who was sauntering closer to the bed charily. Before he knew it, Shirosaki disappeared from his vision, leaving the orange haired man in confusion. He glanced around the room, trying to pinpoint the missing albino, but he wasn't in the area anymore. Where had the demon lord gone to? Ichigo was certain that the man had been standing right in front of him just a spilt second ago. He suddenly felt an icy hand grip his right shoulder, pushing him down further on the bed while the left one pulled his legs frontward. Ichigo stared up into the golden eyes and he gulped.
He was trapped.
With both hands held up by the other's right.
Shirosaki was now straddling his waist, staring down greedily with his body bent over. A few of the white bangs fell downward, hanging limply along his forehead. Their lips met again, this time Shirosaki forcefully opened the swordsmen's mouth, pressing harder into the tepid entrance. His own tongue danced along the inner cave, earning a suppressed moan from the still struggling orange haired man. He rubbed their groins together feeling the erection below growing. As he pulled back, he bit tenderly on the bottom lip then grinned, lifting himself back up. "You really taste so fucking good."
"S-Shut up!" Ichigo glared, narrowing his eyes, face heated and a little out of breath, continued to gaze up, feeling a little awed by the demon prince's beauty. The man definitely had the looks…
And where the fuck had that come from!?
He wanted to slap himself across his face for that!
Ichigo growled angrily, wiggling around but to no avail. He wasn't getting out of this one that easily. "You bastard! Let me go!"
"Now, now, be still. You can be all feisty afterwards." Shirosaki pulled down the rags slowly with one hand to send shrills up his prize's spine. He could feel them go up through his hand and grinned victoriously. The cloth, which didn't cover much to the eyes, was easily stripped off while the demon prince shifted down to sit in-between his legs. Deciding that holding the arms up was a nuisance, he edged them underneath Ichigo's back, lifting the swordsmen up. He moved around to get in a better spot and smiled lopsidedly. Tossing the useless cover aside, the albino gaped over the nude body before him, liking what he was seeing. "You've got a lovely figure."
The light blush on Ichigo's cheeks went darker, but that went away when he felt the ghostly hand grasp his erection. He jolted at the touch, biting his bottom lip, stopping a moan that had slithered its way up his throat. He clenched harder when the demon prince started stroking it soothingly, applying different types of pressure on him. "You don't need to hold back, I want to hear your voice." The teasing voice whispered into his ear hotly, licking the ear.
Ichigo squirmed at the caress; it got worse when he felt the lips suck tenderly on his lobe. It felt so fucking wonderful; it was so hard to resist just bending into it and giving in. Little droplets of blood dripped down his chin, lines of red staining the peach skin. Shirosaki took that chance to lap it up, his blue tongue running over the flesh, tasting the sweetness of it. It was magnificent, delicious and delectable and he wanted more. Ichigo felt the searing tongue swirl along his neck, going up to clean the rest off. He could even taste his own blood in his mouth and swallowed roughly, the copper flavor getting to him. The demon lord crushed their lips together, kissing passionately, prying open his mouth again. His tongue slipped inside, savoring the strawberry flavor that fell onto his buds along with the blood, it was fitting for the human, and he continued to pressure the erection between Ichigo's legs.
The orange haired man almost moaned out loud, losing himself to the raw pleasure that circulated through his veins and nerves. He regained enough rational to bite down on the invading tongue that was massaging against his own and was satisfied when he drew blood. Shirosaki drew back with a grunt, pressing his aching cut, watching Ichigo take a deep breath.
The demon prince just grinned, not minding his small wound and bent back down, spreading Ichigo's legs further apart, using his own to do so. He grasped the length harder, observing as Ichigo squirmed at the hard touch. "You should count yourself lucky. I'm not going to go all the way with you. Wouldn't want to scare you into hating me."
"W-What?" The swordsmen managed to gasp out, twisting his body to face the man. He felt the hand let go of him but he still couldn't move.
"I'm in a pleasant mood." Shirosaki curved, his body crawling further down the bed, taking the whole length into his mouth.
Ichigo let out a low moan at the sudden change of temperature, arching his back further than what it already was. Then a loud cry ripped through his throat when the moist tongue slid over his tip. "A-Ahh!! S-Stop!'
He turned his head and closed his eyes at the unbearable pleasure that coursed through him. The swordsmen could feel everything inside that moist heat, unable to control his moans that escaped. The warmth that was flowing in him was blissfully amazing and he was tempted to scream out the man's name, wanting him to continue on. Shirosaki bobbed his head up and down, his fingers raking gently across the swordsmen's crest. Little red lines were bared along the tone colored skin, and he grinned, watching the man shiver in delight.
He really got the perfect one; his little slave was a closet masochist.
"Nngh..!" Ichigo almost came at that moment, but the demon prince yanked back at the last second. He stared at the albino curiously, wondering why the man had stopped suddenly. The swordsmen wanted more, it was excruciatingly enjoyable and the release had been so, so close. Ichigo took a deep breath; he really wanted to hit himself for thinking along those lines now. Just how far had he fallen in these few minutes?
Shirosaki licked his fingers, leaning over, staring down at his prey. "What's your name, human?"
The orange head took another deep breath, recovering some of his mind that had been loss in the bliss. "Ichigo, Ichigo Kurosaki."
"Nice name, Ichigo." The demon prince smirked. "Mine's Shirosaki, but call me Shiro for short. Perhaps later on you'll call me 'master' or maybe 'Shiro-sama' or something along those lines."
Ichigo snapped back, jolting his head up to knock into the other. "Never!"
Shirosaki recoiled back, using his free hand to rub his forehead. He didn't let his expression slip even after that bump. Instead he seemed to be pleased by the mere fight that was left in his prize. Struggles always entertained him.
"Ah, that's too bad." He squeezed lightly on Ichigo's cock, sending another wave of pleasure up Ichigo's spine, who let out a strident groan, falling back into his previous state. "Oh well, we're going to have a lot of excitement from now on and all the time in the world to play."
The swordsmen could only whimper in dread as he was kissed fiercely again.
For all those that don't know or are questioning, the most powerful of the demon lords are called demon princes (but they don't need to have any hierarchy). Shirosaki just happens to be the strongest of them, almost on par with Aizen but that hasn't been confirmed yet since the two avoided fighting each other.
So, no, Shirosaki is not really a prince like a son of a king, it's just a title.
I just need to the clear that up before someone asked.
"Hmm...I think I'm giving myself too much work, don't you think?"
Yuan snorts. "Bull, I think you're not worked out enough yet. You need more of it."
Creed sighs. "You know that sounds really perverted the way you put it."
"Yes, it does." I narrow my eyes. Caesar shakes his head.
"You all suck!" Yuan screams.
Oh, I noticed that the first chapter wasn't really humorous but it gets better later on. I promise. So how did you like it? Tell me, tell me.