Ichigo is trapped by Zaraki who can no longer resist the youth's body.

(No love involved.)

Warning:

Rape/Angst

Perhaps drabble?

Corrupted Love

Kurosaki Ichigo had no idea how he wound up in such a terrifying and heart racing situation. Zaraki Kenpachi, someone he would perhaps be brave enough to even call his 'friend' at times had him against a stone wall in the 11th Barracks, both of the orange-haired boy's arms pinned by Zaraki's surprisingly strong right arm. Kenpachi was wearing what Ichigo could only assume was a sleeping kimono, red as well as loosely worn just like the black hair he usually had spiked and belled. The look Kenpachi was giving was not the usual blood lust, but a passionate and rather discomforting lust Ichigo had never expected to go through the older man. At least not in his presence. Ichigo always had an unnatural fear towards the other, though he always just placed it in Kenpachi's lust for battle.

But as Zaraki leaned in and licked up Kurosaki's throat to his chin, devouring him, Ichigo knew it was a lust of a different kind that was inside the Taichou. The youth tried to struggle, to worm away just enough to reach for his abandoned Zangetsu to his left on the ground, but he could not. The older man was simply to powerful, too demanding and harsh in his actions. Zaraki tugged the youth's white sash off with his free hand before tugging at the now loosened hakama as Ichigo squirmed and grunted as the older one bit and kissed a rough path up his neck. Kurosaki's head was not working right, he couldn't think of anything to do. Panic was setting in. He desperately wanted to get away, to yell, to say anything, but only random, useless fears wired into his brain. He shouldn't be so frightened he thought as Kenpachi harshly groped his limp manhood and sac. He thought he should fight, not fear the superior. Say something to get someone's attention, not grunt in silence and take it!

"Shit! Stop this, dammit! Stop, you fucking... fucking! Fuck!" Ichigo's mouth formed words but his squinted eyes formed pained tears. His voice caught and he let a strangled sob out as Zaraki pressed himself to the smaller form, his free hand sliding around the boy's hip to reach to his back and press two of his dry fingers into him, fast and rough. Kurosaki's eyes bolted as a foreign pain laced its way up his spine and made him choke on his own scream. He wanted to fend him off, to leave, but now he knew he could not.

The orange-haired youth let his head lean against Kenpachi's left shoulder as the rest of his body finally lost its fight as well, going soft and limp as a broken doll. Kenpachi's loose hair was the only comfort Ichigo received as the other pressed another finger into him and thrust them and scissored his once virgin opening. The older man persistently kissed Kurosaki's ear and temple before he ripped his fingers from the youth and spun him so that Ichigo's chest and stomach were pressed harshly to the cold and rough wall. Kenpachi held Ichigo's hips in place with one hand as his other held the youth's back up against the wall. Kurosaki knew he could not get away, he was trapped by the man. The softness of the Taichou's rarely seen loose hair was taken only to be replaced by the cold reality of the situation. Kenpachi gripped tighter and before Kurosaki could register the odd feeling he had Zaraki thrust all the way into his tight, searing hot opening. Ichigo grunted a sound, but fell silent as the sound of Kenpachi's cock slamming in and out of the youth's body and Zaraki's pleased moans and grunts took over.

'Why the Hell is this happening..? I should have fought harder... I gave in and for that I'm weak... I deserve this... If I couldn't even stop it, I deserve it... Kenpachi won... He overpowered me so easily. He deserves his prize. Me. Like the whore I am...' - Ichigo's inner thoughts ran ramped in his self loathing while Zaraki pounded into him over and over, taking everything from the teen. The dark night swallowed Ichigo eventually, his eyes closing, the world consuming. He drifted into unconsciousness. He awoke the next day in the 4th with Unohana-Taichou sitting off to his right. She sat forward and gave a sympathetic smile as she laid a hand softly over his head. He tried to smile back, but it seemed only more tears came and he choked out a sob as the onslaught of last night's affairs took hold of him once again. All he could do to hide the shame was to squeeze his eyes shut and cover them with his hands. Unohaha tried to calm him, to inform Zaraki was not to get away with his actions, but the more she spoke the more shamed and disgusted Ichigo felt. He was no longer the hero, but the victim. No longer proud, only scared. He would never forgive Zaraki for what he did. He turned Ichigo into something worthless. Worthless like a Hallow or demon. More worthless than Aizen Sousuke.