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Ichigo-Renji-Byakuya: Ichigo's "Interegation"

The chains binding Ichigo's wrists behind his back rattled as his face contacted with the wall, another gout of blood spurting from his nose as it was broken yet once more. His once-orange hair was now dyed red with his own blood, and the willful ryoka barely held to the elusive thread of consciousness.

A combined effort of Sixth, Second, and Fifth squads, with heavy support from the Fourth, had finally brought down the impossibly strong outsider...Ichigo was beat to all hell, Zangetsu broken into at least six pieces, and barely able to move, by the time the fight was over. When they'd clamped the manacles onto his wrists, the seemingly endless well of power he had access to had been cut off, and he was left helpless.

Time passed, and Ichigo had no concept of how long he lay on the cold stone of the cell, staring at the bloody mark his face had left on the wall, before he heard the quiet, cold voice that sent a shudder up his spine.

"Clean him up."

Gentle hands lifted Ichigo to a sitting position, still facing the wall. He couldn't see the warm body he rested against...only the pale, porcelain-like hands as they cleaned the blood from his face and body before healing him, the gentle softness of feminine palms settling on his chest with a warm glow that felt...green.

He faded in, and out, many times. Time became a jumble to him, the strange, warm comfort interspersed with dreamlike stares from shaded, sunken eyes, a mouth that moved without words he could hear, eyes like his uncle, all at once disapproving and pleading.

Finally, Ichigo came awake, staring at the ceiling of his cell, the blur in his eyes fading a little more each time he blinked. He lay uncomfortably on his back, his arms beneath him, wrists still manacled, cutting off the flow of his power.

"You are awake." That cold voice again, the one that sent a shudder up his spine. Concise, with no emotion behind it. Ichigo turned his head to look at Kuchiki Byakuya, and his vision swam with the movement. 

"Y-you..." Ichigo blinked his eyes rapidly to clear them, frowning deeply at Byakuya. 

"You have failed, ryoka. Rukia's gift to you has gone wasted."


"Stupid little fucker." The haughty, almost grating voice of Byakuya's fukutaichou sounded from the entrance to the cell. "Rukia wanted you to live, and you had to come here, thinking you could take us all on."

"Quite stupid." There was a rustle of cloth as Byakuya moved forward to stare down at Ichigo, the faintest ghost of a smirk gracing his features. "Now you are my prisoner, ryoka."

"Fuck you."

Renji let out a barking laugh, doubling over. "No, no, kid...Fuck YOU..." The tone in his voice made Ichigo shudder. 


"I'm sure you've been told that you're a rather pretty boy." Byakuya's smirk was growing, as he reached down to run a finger along Ichigo's cheek. "It's nearing time to....interrogate you."

"WHAT?!" Ichigo sat up, wide eyes staring at Byakuya. The edge of fear around the boy made the cold smirk flourish. 

A hand, with a grip like steel, clamped onto his shoulder, pulling him off the cot and forcing him to his knees on the hard stone of the floor as Renji pushed away from the bars, striding forward. 

"What the fuck! You can't do this!" the orange haired boy tried to pull away from Byakuya's grip, and got a hard slap across the cheek for his trouble. 

"Quiet yourself before I quiet you, child." The soft hiss of silk on silk filled the air as the black-haired captain pulled his scarf from his neck, letting it puddle on the floor. 

Ichigo struggled against the chains holding his wrists behind his back, his eyes wide as Renji stepped over, picking up the light fabric from the floor with a feral grin, stepping around the prisoner. Byakuya's hand held the orange-haired boy in place as Renji pulled the silk scarf up, the soft fabric sliding against Ichigo's face, up over his chin, his cheeks, to rest against his eyes, the thin fabric bunched and doubled, blocking out the light. The scarf tightened over his face as Renji tied it, blindfolding the orange-haired boy. 

Ichigo let out a strained sound of protest as his sight was stolen from him, and he struggled against the manacles, knowing that there was no way he could break free. He was at the mercy of these twisted fucks, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that there would, in fact, be absolutely no mercy for someone like him.

Too many hands were on him, not rough as he expected, but undressing him in a mockery of intimacy. He felt the ties of his hakama loosened, and the pleated pants were eased down. He tried to kick, but received a sharp blow to the back of his head, making the world tilt to the left and bile rise in his throat. Dizziness while blindfolded was not fun. The boy nearly topped onto his side, but strong hands held him in place as he was divested of the bottom portion of his clothing, and is hakama was pulled back, away from his chest, bunched at his elbows. 

"Stop...Please, god, stop..." Ichigo murmured as he felt hands at his hips. The sounds of more rustling of clothing that probably wasn't his, and something warm and silky touched his cheek. Ichigo recoiled in horror, but a hand found the back of his head, fingers burying into his hair and holding on tightly, jerking his head forward. Ichigo shivered in disgust, and let out a muffled cry as his mouth was forced over Byakuya's member. Byakuya's, because of the voice that let out a soft moan, barely audible, at the contact.

The nobleman could've been crueler. He could have forced himself all the way down Ichigo's throat, and not let him breathe, but he worked his hips slowly, letting the orange-haired boy get used to the idea, letting him breathe, letting the reflexive cooperation kick in. 

"Heh. He likes sucking cock." The crude voice was from behind him, and Ichigo startled at the words, the tone, the meaning...and the hands on his hips.

"Renji, please..." Byakuya's tone was disapproving. His Fukutaichou had upset the wonderfully delightful rhythm the boy had fallen into.

"Feh, alright..." The hands left Ichigo’s hips, the rough fingertips no longer digging into his skin, pressing against the bones, and Ichigo shuddered in disgust, his throat closing against a gag reflex. Byakuya drew back, not out, but back, letting the ryoka catch his breath.

Ichigo froze, his mind trying to wrap around the sensation of something warm and wet touching where no one should ever, ever touch. It was simultaneously wrong, horrid, disgusting, and oh so right. Fingertips, his mind registered, covered in something warm and slippery, teased his sphincter open, one easing inside him carefully and gently. He expected pain, but there was none, and he let out a soft, muffled moan at the strange pleasure that washed over him.

Byakuya returned to his rhythm, his hand still tight on Ichigo's hair, guiding the boy's mouth over his member.

Somewhere in Ichigo's mind, he rebelled against this. It was wrong, and disgusting, and he was STRAIGHT. His body was betraying him, moaning at Renji's probing fingers and sucking Byakuya's cock like he'd been doing it all his life and loved it. This was rape! How could he be enjoying this?!

Renji worked a second finger into him, and worked them together, making Ichigo moan louder around Byakuya as he stretched and readied him. Ichigo could hear the redhead's panting breath, and his mind painted a devilish picture of the man touching himself as he probed Ichigo.

As if according to the steps of some sick dance, Renji's fingers left him, to be replaced by something thicker, larger, and as the man plunged into him, Byakuya's hand on his hair tightened. The noble pulled out of Ichigo's mouth as the orange-haired boy cried out, and held his head steady with a groan. Ichigo felt the hot stickiness splatter over his face, and a blush of shame crept over him. He was being invaded, molested, used, defiled, and dirtied, but he could not deny the warm surges that coiled low in his stomach and spread outward as Renji worked inside him, slowly, as if not to hurt him.

A strong arm encircled Ichigo's chest, and pulled him upright, against Renji's well-muscled torso. The other hand held Ichigo at the hip, holding him still and steady as Renji rose to his feet, still impaling the shorter boy. 

More hands, these smoother, slightly gentler, but very efficient, folded back the black and white cloth that fell in the way, and Ichigo let out another cry of pleasure as Byakuya's mouth closed over his own member.

His cock twitched inside the warm wetness, subject to the gentle suction, and pleasure exploded through the boy as Byakuya's tongue slid along the ridge of his glans, just as Renji buried himself to the hilt, filling Ichigo and pressing against that secret (and yet, not so secret) spot that was rumored to give the best pleasure one could experience.

Renji grunted in his ear, and the tall redhead's hands gripped him roughly, his voice low and teasing in Ichigo's ear.

"You like getting fucked, boy? You sure seem to." And it was true. His own cock had been hard, aching to be touched, before Byakuya had deigned to try to relieve that pressure. Ichigo began to question his own sexuality, but the thought was pushed from his mind as Renji slid almost out of him, and then slammed back home, forcing Ichigo forward, and farther into Byakuya's mouth. 

It was only a few more rapid, hard thrusts before Ichigo's virgin body couldn't take it anymore. The pleasure crashed against the edge of orgasm, and sent him over, his body tightening and cock twitching, limbs shuddering. Renji stilled, and Byakuya pulled back, his mouth still locked over the head of Ichigo's member, and his fine, tapered fingers wrapping around the orgasming flesh, stroking upward, like he was milking the seed out of the orange-haired boy, collecting it in his mouth, but not swallowing it. He was oh-so careful not to let a single drop spill.

Ichigo gave one final shudder, and lay panting against Renji's arm, a shiver running through him as Byakuya's mouth left him, the noble hand giving him one final caress. 

Moments later, the blindfold was jerked off, a harsh, painful movement that was in sharp contrast to all of the relatively gentle movements up until now. One of those fine, sculpted hands gripped Ichigo's chin, turning his head so that his blinking eyes could take in the sight of Renji bending to kiss his taichou, lapping a thick white liquid out of his mouth. 

"Oh, god...." Ichigo's voice left him in a groan as he watched the redhead, hair unbound and pulled over his far shoulder, drinking Ichigo's own seed from the cup of Byakuya's mouth. 

Byakuya broke away, that cold face turning to press his lips against Ichigo's with bruising force, and Ichigo could taste himself of the captain's rough kiss, as Renji drew back and slammed forward again with a grunt. 

The nobleman broke away, stepping back with a cold smile, letting go of Ichigo's chin and wiping the now-cold stickiness off on Ichigo's chest as Renji's rhythm hastened. Ichigo cried out, closing his eyes as he was well and truly fucked.

Byakuya gave a cold chuckle as he stepped away, moving to re-dress himself, picking up the dirtied scarf and folding it to hide the stain of his ejaculation, as Renji went to his knees again, pushing Ichigo's face to the floor roughly, as if Byakuya had been the calming force that had made everything before be gentle. He was animalistic now, slamming himself roughly into the prisoner, ripping harsh cries from Ichigo's throat as the pleasure mixed with pain, now.

"Renji, you're taking too long. Hurry it up." Byakuya was dressed now, moving toward the cell door. Ichigo felt Renji's teeth in his shoulder, biting into his flesh, drawing blood as he reamed the prisoner, tears now flowing down Ichigo's face. Byakuya made another impatient sound and Renji bit down even harder, his teeth threatening to tear a chunk of skin out of Ichigo's shoulder as he buried himself impossibly far into the boy, an animalistic sound emanating from his throat as his shaft swelled, finally ejaculating.

The tall man panted, disengaging his teeth from Ichigo's flesh and spitting a bit of blood out onto the cell floor as he pulled back, vacating the boy. Ichigo shuddered, biting his lip and hiding his face against the floor in shame as he heard Renji stand in a rustle of cloth.

Moments passed, and Renji joined Byakuya at the cell door. As they let themselves out, locking him back in, Byakuya's voice stabbed Ichigo with cold fear.

"The other squads will be by to interrogate you in due time, boy. Do have fun."