Here it be.After a day of excruciating waiting, the second part of Empty Rendezvous. And the second installment of my startingly insightful author's note. Sorry to keep everyone waiting...Pffft. Sorry. Can't help myself. Heh he ha. It's just...too...funny. I couldn't say that without a straight face. Ha ha. People waiting...! I know. Hilarious! Heh ha....ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!Snap.Okay. No more stalling.We continue from last episode's pursuit, which lead to the revelation of how the title came about. In today's installment, the origin of the premise shall be uncovered for all to see.....Where was I...?Right. The recounting of the pilfering of this premise of mine that is not mine.To start with, we must go into the past, for mimesis (my word for stealing that keeps the lawsuits out of my mailbox) involves searching back to what was in the past. The distant past. All the way to four months ago. When times were simpler. When men were men, women were objects, children were slaves, and listening to rave music was kind of cool. Try to remember this far back, if you can. Luckily, the event that I speak of was documented. Although...it is difficult to understand the English used back then with our modern vocabularly.Getting to the point, as brevity is the soul of wit, a story was published then. A story written in response to someone who wanted a response to stories written too long ago for me to remember (my computer doesn't accept stone tablets). Err, those ancient stories don't matter because, for all intents and purposes, I ripped off someone else.Laurie Bunter.The word mimesis returns, since I feel its important to not get a subpoena. See no evil, hear no evil, say no evil, receive no evil. Putting this in other terms, I needed a way of using Ms. Bunter's story without getting banned from Fanfiction.net by an itchy trigger finger reporting me. A quest was birthed. And I had to suck up big time. Like, giving up my basic rights. Like, venturing into the abyss no man should venture. Like, getting on knees and licking feet kind of sucking up. Here is an actual transcript of the words spoken between Ms. Bunter and I. Remember, this happened ages ago, so our words may appear slightly archaic and be a tad difficult to comprehend for modern readers:Adam Epp: O' sweet and noble Highness, I beg of ye! Please grant thine loyal subject a boon!Laurie Bunter: Let not mine radiance silence thy tongue, serf. What wouldst thou ask of my hand?Epp: Hark! My Majesty is most assuredly the greatest and most benevolent ruler in all o' the lands! 'Tis but the smallest of requests I 'twould have thou hear me sayeth.Bunter: Dost thou dare to presume I lived in a nunnery? Hold abated thy repulsing breath and hasten to deliver onto me this entreaty!Epp: Alas. To hasten or not to hasten: that is the question.Bunter: Whether 'tis nobler to suffer in the mind matters not, simple knave! Recite thy boon before thine tongue is taken and thou receiveth thence swift starvation!Epp: If ye must insist it so, it needs be in order for I to respond. Very well, Majesty. I request permit to the vault of legends' lore.Bunter: Sheer folly! To expect me to partake of my domain is utter phantasy of thy conscience, serf.Epp: Yet, M'lady, pray tell, didst thou believe I to be unprepared to relieve mine self of wordly possessions for her Sake?Bunter: Ha! Whatever couldst a serf provideth a Queen?Epp:The greatest treasure o' all, I present to thy disclosure. Your Highness, I offer ye...my dearest devotion to pimp thine words in thy stead.Bunter: Jackanapes! Thou speakst only pithy whispers of lies and cruel deceit! Thou cannst remain true to such a noble and worthy cause!Epp: Keep still thy beating heart, o' worthy Highness. If you wouldst aim a blade at the center of mine throat, thou could witness mine unwavering pulse, firsthand. Snatch from me mine very soul and feed i' to His Lord in Heaven's Bane, ye could, but still I wilst not falter a step!Bunter: ...! Very well. 'Twould appear as if I may have misjudged thine purity of thine promises. So be it. I accept thy boon! Begone and never return to my sight again!Epp: At once, M'lady! And, true to my promise, I kept my end of the bargain.Another crisis was averted. I did not need thinketh mine own ideas. All 'twas well. The rest, as they say, is history.You know. The candle burning beside a bedside, as I worked furiously to scroll in Times New Roman--by hand, so I could scan it onto the computer and appear as if I had money for a word processor. The fever. Burning. Powerful. The fever consuming me as I read countless stories to steal countless ideas from. The end result almost appeared original. The best I could hope for.Read on, non-readers!Title: Empty Rendezvous, the Second Non-EncounterRating: Mega-M, for Mega-MaturationSummary: The time of Judgement is at hand. Two shall not meet. One shall fall. A clash of personalities fundamentally opposite, but inexplicably identical. Yeah. Sounds real hot to me, too.Series: Teh BleachGenre: Hypergalactic-tensive irony between pre-subjugatve bliss Note: My take on a challenge presented to Laurie Bunter by quietcorvin, about a lighthearted Hichigo x Rukia story. Read Laurie's story, "Second Honeymoon" to see how she did it. And don't just stop there; she's written more than that one. Read her other stories. Then you can stop...Actually, no. Don't even stop there. Follow her around, lurk in her LiveJournal. Find out where she lives, follow her around. Become her stalker. After that, you should probably stop, though.Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.---Empty Rendezvous---To be sure, Kisuke Urahara loved inventing all kinds of things. He was no longer certain what started this love of creation, but it was now a part of himself he could not ignore. Nor was Urahara sure why he made the damn junk. Was it some type of fatherly pride? Did he enjoy knowing that his contraptions would benefit the next generation? The fame that came along with being a genius? The infamy? Probably all of the above, really. When he was occupied with the process of creation, though, all these bothersome semantics flew out the window. Only focusing on the craft, the trial and error involved with honing his technique to perfection mattered. It was just him and his imagination, all alone. So, as always, he was momentarily annoyed when another customer entered his shop and interrupted his solitude with his ideas. Yet, as always, any displeasure he may have shown was quickly plastered over by a false grin long before the customer saw him. Then, the fake smile disappeared when he realized who the customer was: Rukia Kuchiki. Ah, now there was one customer foolish enough to buy whatever junk he pushed on her. A salesman's dream, that one. A real grin, brought on by greed, appeared on his face. But why did she look so jittered, as if someone she knew just died? No one important in Soul Society died recently...right? Of course not. His sources were too good for something that big to escape his notice. Time to greet her. "Oh, Rukia! What can I do for you today?" Lost in her thoughts, Rukia jumped. Definitely not like her. "I-I'm looking for something..." Unbelievably, the young woman went red. Totally unlike her. This should be fun. "Yes?" Urahara asked, drawing out the syllable as far as he could. If it was even possible for the Shinigami eye to spot the difference, Rukia's face became a darker shade of crimson. Much fun, indeed. "For a...a..." stammered Rukia, quite uncharacteristically of herself. It can be tough not to openly laugh at times. "For a...?" "...Some of your...'adult' products," answered Rukia, flushed. Urahara's mask of ignorance nearly slipped off, but he managed to keep it on. "Ah, but our 'Engorged Zanpakatou' line is quite large." Could he pull this off? Also, how did he say that last sentence with a straight face?! "You'll have to be more specific than that." Ha ha ha, Rukia's shoulders sagged to the floor. He couldn't get enough of these games. "I need some..." began Rukia, and she whispered the rest in Urahara's ears. What a positively naughty girl! "Oh my," gasped Urahara, exaggerating his surprise to great effect on Rukia. "S-So what?!" She got defensive, still red. "What I d-do with Ichigo and his hollow is none of your business!" My, blurting tidbits like that is what makes toying with people like her worth it at the end of they day. Judging by the way she suddenly covered her mouth, Rukia must have just realized how badly she screwed up. Got to attack her when she's down. Yes, that wasn't fair, but Urahara didn't care. "...His hollow?" "I didn't say anything about it!" contradicted Rukia, now playing the ignorant game. Tipping his head down to make the shadows under his eyes even darker, Urahara gazed down at her in disapproval. Words did not need to be spoken to break her down. However, Rukia would not be so easily cowed today. "Geez, this is why Yoruichi is always saying such negative things about you!" Say what? His perfect Kitty Witty would do no such thing! Urahara's facade disintegrated bit by bit. "Now, Rukia, I'm sure she keeps such matters to herself." Yoruichi did not, in fact. Ever. Never had, either. She had a mouth bigger than Matsumoto's voluminous chest. "Anyways...what sort of things does she say?" Curiosity got the best of him. Honestly, both he and Yoruichi were identical this way. "I'd be ashamed to repeat them!" retorted Rukia, truthfully. That bad, huh? "...How about just a hint?" offered Urahara. Blab nasty tidbits about him, would Yoruichi?! That bitch! "No!" declined Rukia. "Just get the things I asked for!" "I'll give you a discount if you tell me some of her gossip!" Rukia reconsidered. "... How much?" "Ten percent off for one breach of confidence." "Twenty," bartered Rukia. Thief! "That's too much. The items you ordered are rather expensive..." "Twenty." "Fine, fine!" Urahara sealed the deal. What a penny pincher. "Great," Rukia beamed, all smiles. Nothing like a nice discount to make a girl forget her troubles. "But it better be one of the worst...rumors she's spread," warned Urahara. Actually, they were all really bad so it didn't matter which Rukia chose. "Of course. It still disgusts me to think about it, but I remember Yoruichi telling me of this one time when you..." True to her word, Rukia chose a tale that was a nasty among the nasties. One Urahara was rather proud to be a starring character in, and remembering the event made him grin; it involved one of his better "inventions." Yes, Kisuke Urahara loved to invent things. Why did he love it? Nobody knows. More importantly, why didn't he conceive a device to read people's minds yet?! This damn woman was going to wipe him clean by the time he ferreted out all of Yoruichi's gossip from her! Back to the drawing board... --- Necrophilia Paradise was by far the most successful love hotel in Soul Society. Located in the red district of Rukongai, it offered a range of rooms for all social classes and all fetishes. Innovators to a fault, their motto, "Just because you're dead doesn't mean you can't be alive," currently found itself on many a Plus's T-shirt--those shirts being one of the few "innocent" items sold at the hotel's gift shop. The building itself, a simple, traditional hovel you could find anywhere in Rukongai, was a reality distortion; a twist in time and space formed by cracks in the boundary dividing Soul Society from the Earth. Such dimensional fluctuations could easily be manipulated in the right hands, and the owners of Necrophilia Paradise had those hands. Hence the "little" Japanese shack's interior being able to rival the size of Central 46, despite appearances to the contrary. It was outside this hotel that Ichigo, in his Shinigami clothes, stood underneath a full moon. Rukia was late. Quite late. Make that very late. What the hell could she be doing? Nary a soul clustered the alleys and roads of Rukongai at this late hour, and Ichigo's only company was the odd patrol passing by him with the occasional Death Reaper nodding at him. Still no Rukia. Come on, all ready! Growled an impatient voice. I've waited years for this moment. Let me get fucking laid already! Having been harassed by this disembodied spirit all day, Ichigo merely ignored it this time. That neck is ripe for my mouth...those small hands are just the right size...those tits are just dying to be squeezed...those thighs need to be covered in her juices...Yeah, if the hollow had a mouth then, it would have been flooding Soul Society in saliva. And then there's the greatest prize of all to be fucked-- "Shut up!" Ichigo could take no more of this, much to his other half's mirth. "And I thought you didn't even like Rukia. Why are you so excited about this?!" Beggars, unlike kings, can't be choosers, replied the dark personality. I'll fill any c-- "Who doesn't like me?!" Rukia. Finally. "Nobody," sidestepped Ichigo. More importantly..."What took you so long?!" Then, Ichigo noticed a nondescript bag in her possession. What was that? Rukia went red from the memory, and the reminder of why she went to Urahara's shop sent a shiver of fear through her. "I was shopping for a few things for...tonight," explained Rukia carefully, clutching her bag tightly. What the fuck did she need to buy? The hollow growled. Ichigo didn't care, though. "Whatever. Come on, let's go!" Impatient, Ichigo grabbed her hand and dragged her into the cheap-looking building. Inside Necrophilia Paradise, it was like stepping into another dimension. In fact, that's precisely what Rukia and Ichigo did, but the physics behind them doing so are rather complex. Violently clashing with the sloppy exterior, the interior of the love hotel was the height of opulence. Splendid, numerous, silver, marble pillars in two rows directed customers to the desk in the hotel's expensive-looking and massive lobby. High above, golden chandeliers illuminated the entrance room, while a long, hand-crafted, crimson carpet lined the center of the room. Rukia and Ichigo ignored this fantastic display, though, and hurried to the front desk. They had been here often enough to know what to expect. At the front desk, a new clerk confronted them. Dressed up in a dirty, white-collared and long-sleeved shirt, a formal black vest, slacks, and bow tie, this man still exuded slime from every pore on his body. Must have been the dark, slicked hair and his narrow mustache. Or maybe this just came from working in the sex business. "Hello," he greeted the couple with a nasally and practiced voice. "Welcome to Necrophilia Paradise! How can I help you today?" "We have a reservation for the Eclipse Room," answered Ichigo, fighting back a strong urge to twitch. The hollow was growing more restless every minute. The clerk put a hand over his mouth in mock surprise. His job wasn't too exciting and he had to see satisfied-looking people all day while he didn't get any ass, so he tortured customers any time he could. "Oh my. The Eclipse Room? You two are very naughty," the annoying clerk hummed sarcastically. Most of the clerks at Necrophilia Paradise were much nicer than this slimeball, and the grease bucket Ichigo and Rukia had the misfortune of dealing with was soon going to be fired, but neither of the pair knew this. Moving on, what should be noted is how uncomfortable the clerk made Rukia; every speck of grease on the man reminded her that she would be soon fucking a disgusting creature. "Yes, yes, we are," Ichigo agreed, trying to make this as quick as possible. Or was it the hollow talking? "Our names are Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki, so just do the reiatsu identification check and we'll be on our way." The other man wiped sweat off his brow with a grimy sleeve. "Fine," he grumbled and proceeded with doing his job. Slowly. Very slowly. To waste time, he looked at the reservation list, then the clock. "You two are late," he observed, his eyes narrowing into snake-like slits. "Somebody had to take her time," Ichigo glanced at Rukia, who was suddenly interested in the wall. "But so what? What's the big deal if we're late?!" "Oh, nothing," the clerk brushed it aside. Sarcastically, of course. "Nothing at all," he went into a rant. "You can come in whenever you want. That's part of our policy: 'Fuck how you want, when you want.' Have it your way. The customers have lives of their own, so we don't care when you show up. We don't care if you disregard yourselves as decent Shinigami beings and lie about when you're going to show up. So what if you people are total assholes?! Like you say, it's no big fucking deal!" Throughout this, it took all of Ichigo's humanity to restrain a hollow that wanted nothing more than to slice this snake into a million pieces. Rukia saw his fists clenching, and her fear for what was in store for her that night grew further. "Listen, could you just give us the damn key already?!" burst out Ichigo. Suddenly, his right eye twitched and he quickly put a hand over it. The phase passed in a few seconds, but the receptionist didn't give him time to stay calm. "Why, certainly," drawled the clerk, taking his time to reach down for it. Apparently, he did not realize the mortal peril he was in. "Since I wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone by being late...Unlike somebody else I know..." That was it! Ichigo reached for the man's throat, and only quick action on Rukia's part saved the clerk's life. "Key, please!" she spat out in a hurry, not being able to hold her partner back for long. The clerk abruptly became efficient. "Y-Y-Yes, Madam!" he stuttered, now aware of his folly. A standard key switched hands. Frustrated, Rukia and Ichigo hurried to an elevator to their right. An angry Rukia punched in the number for their floor. Once in, she exploded. "Are you insane, Ichigo?! You were going to kill that jerk!" "It was him. Don't you see, Rukia? You can't have sex with that monster. He's crazy!" Ichigo's words stopped her fury cold, and Rukia's face paled. Nonetheless, she wouldn't give up. Not when she's this close. "I...I still will." Her boyfriend sighed. It appeared that his plan would not work, and he was very distraught over what his other self might do to Rukia. A bell rang, signaling the pair's arrival at their floor. The walk to their room was one of strained silence for the two--ignoring the wild moans coming from inside the rooms they passed. Soon enough, Rukia was unlocking the door to the Eclipse Room and they went in. The Eclipse Room had always been a favorite of Ichigo and Rukia's and they frequently rented it out. Inside, dark, velvet curtains draped the edges of a round chamber that was large...but not too big. It was dark; the only light coming from a dozen or so candles hovering in midair. Aside from a door leading to an elegant bathroom, the only thing else occupying the room was the king-sized bed. Though other suites in the hotel were far more fancy and playful, Rukia and Ichigo liked this simple one the most. As soon as the door closed shut and the couple stepped in, Ichigo could not hold himself back any longer. Or his hollow couldn't. It's hard to say which one was in control; the edges of Ichigo's pupils were turning black. Whichever personality it was, Rukia suffered the rough groping all the same. Oh, fuck yeah! Finally, I get some action! The hollow roared in approval. "What was that?" Rukia asked, surprised, amid her struggles to get away from the deranged sex maniac. Wait, did the hollow just say that out loud? That doesn't matter as he, or Ichigo, tried putting a sloppy kiss on Rukia. She had enough, then, and whacked Ichigo with the mysterious bag. His assault took a brief hiatus. Now, glaring at Rukia was more important. "Just wait, Ichigo!" Rukia screamed, before soon becoming scared from the dirty eye she got. "I...I need to change first..." Her grip on the bag grew stronger. Ichigo laughed--the hollow laughed, actually. "Just take your clothes off! Why the hesitation? I'm giving you what you want!" "No...there's this...there's something I need to do first," stammered Rukia, backing away from a man she didn't know. "Oh, go ahead! I've waited this long already," the hollow gave in. "You better be quick, though!" Bowing her head, Rukia dashed off to the bathroom and slammed the door. The sound of a lock being turned could be heard, as well as the rustling of clothing being removed. These noises served to make the hollow called Ichigo incredibly aroused. Consequently, his physical transformation quickened and Ichigo's muscles pulsed and grew as his body turned into that of a hollow. Horny, his alternate persona tore off his own clothes without any wasted movements. Meanwhile, a familiar mask formed over Ichigo's face. Next, a tail slithered out of Ichigo's backside. Sheer power emanating from him shook the flames of candles overhead. Luckily, all those candles hid the growing stench wafting out of his demonic form. The titillation felt by the hollow reached a fever pitch as his metamorphosis neared completion. His manhood stood to attention and was ready to defile Ichigo's loved one. Yeah, he was going to savor every fucking second of that. Ohhh, she needed to hurry the fuck up so he could fuck her! Fuck! "Woman!" the hollow bellowed with Ichigo's vocal chords. "Come on out, already! You've had your time! Now it's time for my--no, our fun! Let's play!" Her reply was muffled by the doorway. "O-Okay," she mumbled. "Just a second..." "Now!" Timidly, the door to the bathroom creaked open. Before Rukia stepped through, the hollow started towards it. Such was his eagerness. At last, Rukia emerged! Except, this was not Rukia. No...this was an entirely different woman! Who was this? In her place was a new being of a higher order; a sex demon instead of a death goddess. At the bottom of this magnificent female were leather, high-heeled boots that went right up to her knees. Above the boots, her white, smooth, creamy thighs were left bare; from her shoulders down was a black, leather bustier that accentuated both her cleavage and hips. Continuing with the leather theme, Rukia's balled fists were adorned with black gloves. More than anything else, Rukia wore sheer confidence. Right down to her most frightening feature: a twisted smile. However, Ichigo's hollow cared for none of this. As soon as he caught sight of Rukia, he pounced... ...Only to find himself suddenly stopped. Huh? He couldn't move! What the fuck just happened?! The hollow looked down and saw his nude body was covered in ropes, his hands bound behind his back. In Rukia's left hand was a small, unusual device. She had been prepared for the hollow and slapped Urahara's little invention on him quicker than he could molest her. The thing, whatever it was, instantaneously sprouted straps of hemp that now tied up the hollow Ichigo. To sum it up, the tables had turned. Only, the hollow hadn't quite realized this yet. "What the hell are you doing, woman?!" he shouted, desperately pushing against the ropes in vain. Rukia gave him a swift backhand for his efforts. "Shut up!" ordered Rukia, glaring at her prey. "No! When I said play, this wasn't what-" A swift push knocked him over, onto the bed and interrupting him. "Then what did you mean?" glowered Rukia. Then, she burst into a mad fit of laughing before sauntering to the bed. "Isn't this fun?" she whispered, straddling the man and rubbing her hand along the hollow's muscular thigh. This bitch is crazy! thought the hollow, too scared to voice this aloud. He was mostly right. In reality, the sexy outfit Rukia wore made her crazy. However, it did so by awakening the unconscious impulses in the wearer. How could it do this? Who knows. Not even Urahara was sure and he made the damn thing. The deranged woman's assault on the hollow continued, regardless. "Yes," she moaned in passion, that hand mentioned earlier creeping up towards the hollow's member. "What's this?" Rukia gasped in coy surprise when her fingers wrapped around it. "My, my, you've been a...very...bad...boy..." With each word, she would emphasize every syllable by tightening her grip further on the hollow's manhood; to the point of it being painful. After, she used the other hand to reach for the balls. "That's it!" squealed the hollow, breathing heavily. "I can't take this anymore! I'm outta here!" Rukia was shocked by this development. "H-Huh?" And Ichigo's body changed once more to its usual, albeit naked, form. First, the tail receded into his back, then the muscles shrank--though the sheen of sweat remained--and Ichigo's eyes returned to normal...His hard-on didn't change at all. For a second, Rukia and Ichigo just stared at each other. Then... "Bring him back!" Rukia demanded. "I wasn't done with him!" Ichigo's eyes spread open and he could hear the hollow crying in protest at the notion. Was she serious? "How about we just do it like--" The bonds no longer taut, Ichigo began to sit up...only to be pushed down by an enraged girlfriend. "No! I'm having my way with the hollow and that's that!" She was serious. "Come on!" Ichigo argued, sitting up again. "It'd be better if we just--" He was slammed against the bed once more. Furthermore, Rukia tightened up the ropes so he couldn't move. "Get-him-out!" she growled. All right. Ichigo didn't really have a problem with his hollow half and Rukia having sex if she was going to be like this. So, he tried coercing the hollow to come out...and he was met by a stone wall. Fuck no! the hollow refused. I'm never going out there again! What the fuck?! Wasn't that bastard anxious for any chance for a quick screw?! "Hurry up, Ichigo!" badgered Rukia, impatient. "I'm trying, but he's refusing to come out!" Ichigo gave a valid excuse. Not good enough, though, for somebody beyond sanity. "Then make him!" "Really, he's not budging an inch!" "Aren't you the boss of him!" Rukia started whacking Ichigo in spite. "Don't let him gain the upper hand and let me fuck him, already!" Defenseless, Ichigo had no choice but to take the abuse. "I'm not kidding! If I could have made the fucking hollow come out, I would have by now!" Rukia growled in vexed frustration. "Oh, to hell with it!" she conceded in anger. "I'll just do it with you, then!" Sweet joy filled Ichigo. "Oh, thank god!" he panted in relief. "Okay, could you untie me so that..." Ichigo trailed off when her hand caressed his chest and toyed with his nipples. "H-Hey! What are you doing! Untie me!" Rukia's other hand was buried between her thighs and moving animately. "Oh, I can't do that," she hushed Ichigo. "I still need my story." What? "Story? What st-" The hand lingering on his chest went south. "No! Rukia, stop!" --- "...And then I went and had sex with him while he was tied up," concluded Rukia with a happy sigh. Matsumoto and Yoruichi hooted like maniacs and Unohana smiled angelically. All in all, their plan to get Rukia to do something nuts was completely worth it. Yoruichi still couldn't get enough of this. "Sex with a hollow?! What the hell were you thinking?! Then fucking Ichigo when he was tied up, even though your initial plan didn't work?!" This was too rich. The bustiest of the bunch was too drunk and too delirious to say anything cohesive. Now, the moment of truth. While Rukia was clearly successful in impressing two of her friends, the toughest nut had yet to be cracked. How would Unohana respond? "Nice work, Rukia dear," complimented Unohana. Yes! Success! Rukia nearly leaped in joy until she noticed the Sex Master still had more to say. "Nice work," her Holy Sexiness repeated, "but what are you going to do next time?" ...Say again? Next time? Next time?! "Personally," Unohana went on, "I recommend trying the same thing...except try having a little bit of fun with hot wax. That would certainly heat matters up. Why, I remember a rather interesting night with Kenpachi, in particular, when I..." --- Seriously, next time?! --- Really, there is no end for those ensnared in the wild circle of sex like Rukia was. The depravity just keeps on building up and, before you know it, somebody's off to prison for illicit conduct with a goat. All you can do is pray that the goat is a pretty goat without any sexual diseases.Well, that's it for this ride. I hope all the questions from last half's teaser were answered because that's the end of this one.
e premte, 30 maj 2008
clothing
Here it be.After a day of excruciating waiting, the second part of Empty Rendezvous. And the second installment of my startingly insightful author's note. Sorry to keep everyone waiting...Pffft. Sorry. Can't help myself. Heh he ha. It's just...too...funny. I couldn't say that without a straight face. Ha ha. People waiting...! I know. Hilarious! Heh ha....ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!Snap.Okay. No more stalling.We continue from last episode's pursuit, which lead to the revelation of how the title came about. In today's installment, the origin of the premise shall be uncovered for all to see.....Where was I...?Right. The recounting of the pilfering of this premise of mine that is not mine.To start with, we must go into the past, for mimesis (my word for stealing that keeps the lawsuits out of my mailbox) involves searching back to what was in the past. The distant past. All the way to four months ago. When times were simpler. When men were men, women were objects, children were slaves, and listening to rave music was kind of cool. Try to remember this far back, if you can. Luckily, the event that I speak of was documented. Although...it is difficult to understand the English used back then with our modern vocabularly.Getting to the point, as brevity is the soul of wit, a story was published then. A story written in response to someone who wanted a response to stories written too long ago for me to remember (my computer doesn't accept stone tablets). Err, those ancient stories don't matter because, for all intents and purposes, I ripped off someone else.Laurie Bunter.The word mimesis returns, since I feel its important to not get a subpoena. See no evil, hear no evil, say no evil, receive no evil. Putting this in other terms, I needed a way of using Ms. Bunter's story without getting banned from Fanfiction.net by an itchy trigger finger reporting me. A quest was birthed. And I had to suck up big time. Like, giving up my basic rights. Like, venturing into the abyss no man should venture. Like, getting on knees and licking feet kind of sucking up. Here is an actual transcript of the words spoken between Ms. Bunter and I. Remember, this happened ages ago, so our words may appear slightly archaic and be a tad difficult to comprehend for modern readers:Adam Epp: O' sweet and noble Highness, I beg of ye! Please grant thine loyal subject a boon!Laurie Bunter: Let not mine radiance silence thy tongue, serf. What wouldst thou ask of my hand?Epp: Hark! My Majesty is most assuredly the greatest and most benevolent ruler in all o' the lands! 'Tis but the smallest of requests I 'twould have thou hear me sayeth.Bunter: Dost thou dare to presume I lived in a nunnery? Hold abated thy repulsing breath and hasten to deliver onto me this entreaty!Epp: Alas. To hasten or not to hasten: that is the question.Bunter: Whether 'tis nobler to suffer in the mind matters not, simple knave! Recite thy boon before thine tongue is taken and thou receiveth thence swift starvation!Epp: If ye must insist it so, it needs be in order for I to respond. Very well, Majesty. I request permit to the vault of legends' lore.Bunter: Sheer folly! To expect me to partake of my domain is utter phantasy of thy conscience, serf.Epp: Yet, M'lady, pray tell, didst thou believe I to be unprepared to relieve mine self of wordly possessions for her Sake?Bunter: Ha! Whatever couldst a serf provideth a Queen?Epp:The greatest treasure o' all, I present to thy disclosure. Your Highness, I offer ye...my dearest devotion to pimp thine words in thy stead.Bunter: Jackanapes! Thou speakst only pithy whispers of lies and cruel deceit! Thou cannst remain true to such a noble and worthy cause!Epp: Keep still thy beating heart, o' worthy Highness. If you wouldst aim a blade at the center of mine throat, thou could witness mine unwavering pulse, firsthand. Snatch from me mine very soul and feed i' to His Lord in Heaven's Bane, ye could, but still I wilst not falter a step!Bunter: ...! Very well. 'Twould appear as if I may have misjudged thine purity of thine promises. So be it. I accept thy boon! Begone and never return to my sight again!Epp: At once, M'lady! And, true to my promise, I kept my end of the bargain.Another crisis was averted. I did not need thinketh mine own ideas. All 'twas well. The rest, as they say, is history.You know. The candle burning beside a bedside, as I worked furiously to scroll in Times New Roman--by hand, so I could scan it onto the computer and appear as if I had money for a word processor. The fever. Burning. Powerful. The fever consuming me as I read countless stories to steal countless ideas from. The end result almost appeared original. The best I could hope for.Read on, non-readers!Title: Empty Rendezvous, the Second Non-EncounterRating: Mega-M, for Mega-MaturationSummary: The time of Judgement is at hand. Two shall not meet. One shall fall. A clash of personalities fundamentally opposite, but inexplicably identical. Yeah. Sounds real hot to me, too.Series: Teh BleachGenre: Hypergalactic-tensive irony between pre-subjugatve bliss Note: My take on a challenge presented to Laurie Bunter by quietcorvin, about a lighthearted Hichigo x Rukia story. Read Laurie's story, "Second Honeymoon" to see how she did it. And don't just stop there; she's written more than that one. Read her other stories. Then you can stop...Actually, no. Don't even stop there. Follow her around, lurk in her LiveJournal. Find out where she lives, follow her around. Become her stalker. After that, you should probably stop, though.Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.---Empty Rendezvous---To be sure, Kisuke Urahara loved inventing all kinds of things. He was no longer certain what started this love of creation, but it was now a part of himself he could not ignore. Nor was Urahara sure why he made the damn junk. Was it some type of fatherly pride? Did he enjoy knowing that his contraptions would benefit the next generation? The fame that came along with being a genius? The infamy? Probably all of the above, really. When he was occupied with the process of creation, though, all these bothersome semantics flew out the window. Only focusing on the craft, the trial and error involved with honing his technique to perfection mattered. It was just him and his imagination, all alone. So, as always, he was momentarily annoyed when another customer entered his shop and interrupted his solitude with his ideas. Yet, as always, any displeasure he may have shown was quickly plastered over by a false grin long before the customer saw him. Then, the fake smile disappeared when he realized who the customer was: Rukia Kuchiki. Ah, now there was one customer foolish enough to buy whatever junk he pushed on her. A salesman's dream, that one. A real grin, brought on by greed, appeared on his face. But why did she look so jittered, as if someone she knew just died? No one important in Soul Society died recently...right? Of course not. His sources were too good for something that big to escape his notice. Time to greet her. "Oh, Rukia! What can I do for you today?" Lost in her thoughts, Rukia jumped. Definitely not like her. "I-I'm looking for something..." Unbelievably, the young woman went red. Totally unlike her. This should be fun. "Yes?" Urahara asked, drawing out the syllable as far as he could. If it was even possible for the Shinigami eye to spot the difference, Rukia's face became a darker shade of crimson. Much fun, indeed. "For a...a..." stammered Rukia, quite uncharacteristically of herself. It can be tough not to openly laugh at times. "For a...?" "...Some of your...'adult' products," answered Rukia, flushed. Urahara's mask of ignorance nearly slipped off, but he managed to keep it on. "Ah, but our 'Engorged Zanpakatou' line is quite large." Could he pull this off? Also, how did he say that last sentence with a straight face?! "You'll have to be more specific than that." Ha ha ha, Rukia's shoulders sagged to the floor. He couldn't get enough of these games. "I need some..." began Rukia, and she whispered the rest in Urahara's ears. What a positively naughty girl! "Oh my," gasped Urahara, exaggerating his surprise to great effect on Rukia. "S-So what?!" She got defensive, still red. "What I d-do with Ichigo and his hollow is none of your business!" My, blurting tidbits like that is what makes toying with people like her worth it at the end of they day. Judging by the way she suddenly covered her mouth, Rukia must have just realized how badly she screwed up. Got to attack her when she's down. Yes, that wasn't fair, but Urahara didn't care. "...His hollow?" "I didn't say anything about it!" contradicted Rukia, now playing the ignorant game. Tipping his head down to make the shadows under his eyes even darker, Urahara gazed down at her in disapproval. Words did not need to be spoken to break her down. However, Rukia would not be so easily cowed today. "Geez, this is why Yoruichi is always saying such negative things about you!" Say what? His perfect Kitty Witty would do no such thing! Urahara's facade disintegrated bit by bit. "Now, Rukia, I'm sure she keeps such matters to herself." Yoruichi did not, in fact. Ever. Never had, either. She had a mouth bigger than Matsumoto's voluminous chest. "Anyways...what sort of things does she say?" Curiosity got the best of him. Honestly, both he and Yoruichi were identical this way. "I'd be ashamed to repeat them!" retorted Rukia, truthfully. That bad, huh? "...How about just a hint?" offered Urahara. Blab nasty tidbits about him, would Yoruichi?! That bitch! "No!" declined Rukia. "Just get the things I asked for!" "I'll give you a discount if you tell me some of her gossip!" Rukia reconsidered. "... How much?" "Ten percent off for one breach of confidence." "Twenty," bartered Rukia. Thief! "That's too much. The items you ordered are rather expensive..." "Twenty." "Fine, fine!" Urahara sealed the deal. What a penny pincher. "Great," Rukia beamed, all smiles. Nothing like a nice discount to make a girl forget her troubles. "But it better be one of the worst...rumors she's spread," warned Urahara. Actually, they were all really bad so it didn't matter which Rukia chose. "Of course. It still disgusts me to think about it, but I remember Yoruichi telling me of this one time when you..." True to her word, Rukia chose a tale that was a nasty among the nasties. One Urahara was rather proud to be a starring character in, and remembering the event made him grin; it involved one of his better "inventions." Yes, Kisuke Urahara loved to invent things. Why did he love it? Nobody knows. More importantly, why didn't he conceive a device to read people's minds yet?! This damn woman was going to wipe him clean by the time he ferreted out all of Yoruichi's gossip from her! Back to the drawing board... --- Necrophilia Paradise was by far the most successful love hotel in Soul Society. Located in the red district of Rukongai, it offered a range of rooms for all social classes and all fetishes. Innovators to a fault, their motto, "Just because you're dead doesn't mean you can't be alive," currently found itself on many a Plus's T-shirt--those shirts being one of the few "innocent" items sold at the hotel's gift shop. The building itself, a simple, traditional hovel you could find anywhere in Rukongai, was a reality distortion; a twist in time and space formed by cracks in the boundary dividing Soul Society from the Earth. Such dimensional fluctuations could easily be manipulated in the right hands, and the owners of Necrophilia Paradise had those hands. Hence the "little" Japanese shack's interior being able to rival the size of Central 46, despite appearances to the contrary. It was outside this hotel that Ichigo, in his Shinigami clothes, stood underneath a full moon. Rukia was late. Quite late. Make that very late. What the hell could she be doing? Nary a soul clustered the alleys and roads of Rukongai at this late hour, and Ichigo's only company was the odd patrol passing by him with the occasional Death Reaper nodding at him. Still no Rukia. Come on, all ready! Growled an impatient voice. I've waited years for this moment. Let me get fucking laid already! Having been harassed by this disembodied spirit all day, Ichigo merely ignored it this time. That neck is ripe for my mouth...those small hands are just the right size...those tits are just dying to be squeezed...those thighs need to be covered in her juices...Yeah, if the hollow had a mouth then, it would have been flooding Soul Society in saliva. And then there's the greatest prize of all to be fucked-- "Shut up!" Ichigo could take no more of this, much to his other half's mirth. "And I thought you didn't even like Rukia. Why are you so excited about this?!" Beggars, unlike kings, can't be choosers, replied the dark personality. I'll fill any c-- "Who doesn't like me?!" Rukia. Finally. "Nobody," sidestepped Ichigo. More importantly..."What took you so long?!" Then, Ichigo noticed a nondescript bag in her possession. What was that? Rukia went red from the memory, and the reminder of why she went to Urahara's shop sent a shiver of fear through her. "I was shopping for a few things for...tonight," explained Rukia carefully, clutching her bag tightly. What the fuck did she need to buy? The hollow growled. Ichigo didn't care, though. "Whatever. Come on, let's go!" Impatient, Ichigo grabbed her hand and dragged her into the cheap-looking building. Inside Necrophilia Paradise, it was like stepping into another dimension. In fact, that's precisely what Rukia and Ichigo did, but the physics behind them doing so are rather complex. Violently clashing with the sloppy exterior, the interior of the love hotel was the height of opulence. Splendid, numerous, silver, marble pillars in two rows directed customers to the desk in the hotel's expensive-looking and massive lobby. High above, golden chandeliers illuminated the entrance room, while a long, hand-crafted, crimson carpet lined the center of the room. Rukia and Ichigo ignored this fantastic display, though, and hurried to the front desk. They had been here often enough to know what to expect. At the front desk, a new clerk confronted them. Dressed up in a dirty, white-collared and long-sleeved shirt, a formal black vest, slacks, and bow tie, this man still exuded slime from every pore on his body. Must have been the dark, slicked hair and his narrow mustache. Or maybe this just came from working in the sex business. "Hello," he greeted the couple with a nasally and practiced voice. "Welcome to Necrophilia Paradise! How can I help you today?" "We have a reservation for the Eclipse Room," answered Ichigo, fighting back a strong urge to twitch. The hollow was growing more restless every minute. The clerk put a hand over his mouth in mock surprise. His job wasn't too exciting and he had to see satisfied-looking people all day while he didn't get any ass, so he tortured customers any time he could. "Oh my. The Eclipse Room? You two are very naughty," the annoying clerk hummed sarcastically. Most of the clerks at Necrophilia Paradise were much nicer than this slimeball, and the grease bucket Ichigo and Rukia had the misfortune of dealing with was soon going to be fired, but neither of the pair knew this. Moving on, what should be noted is how uncomfortable the clerk made Rukia; every speck of grease on the man reminded her that she would be soon fucking a disgusting creature. "Yes, yes, we are," Ichigo agreed, trying to make this as quick as possible. Or was it the hollow talking? "Our names are Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki, so just do the reiatsu identification check and we'll be on our way." The other man wiped sweat off his brow with a grimy sleeve. "Fine," he grumbled and proceeded with doing his job. Slowly. Very slowly. To waste time, he looked at the reservation list, then the clock. "You two are late," he observed, his eyes narrowing into snake-like slits. "Somebody had to take her time," Ichigo glanced at Rukia, who was suddenly interested in the wall. "But so what? What's the big deal if we're late?!" "Oh, nothing," the clerk brushed it aside. Sarcastically, of course. "Nothing at all," he went into a rant. "You can come in whenever you want. That's part of our policy: 'Fuck how you want, when you want.' Have it your way. The customers have lives of their own, so we don't care when you show up. We don't care if you disregard yourselves as decent Shinigami beings and lie about when you're going to show up. So what if you people are total assholes?! Like you say, it's no big fucking deal!" Throughout this, it took all of Ichigo's humanity to restrain a hollow that wanted nothing more than to slice this snake into a million pieces. Rukia saw his fists clenching, and her fear for what was in store for her that night grew further. "Listen, could you just give us the damn key already?!" burst out Ichigo. Suddenly, his right eye twitched and he quickly put a hand over it. The phase passed in a few seconds, but the receptionist didn't give him time to stay calm. "Why, certainly," drawled the clerk, taking his time to reach down for it. Apparently, he did not realize the mortal peril he was in. "Since I wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone by being late...Unlike somebody else I know..." That was it! Ichigo reached for the man's throat, and only quick action on Rukia's part saved the clerk's life. "Key, please!" she spat out in a hurry, not being able to hold her partner back for long. The clerk abruptly became efficient. "Y-Y-Yes, Madam!" he stuttered, now aware of his folly. A standard key switched hands. Frustrated, Rukia and Ichigo hurried to an elevator to their right. An angry Rukia punched in the number for their floor. Once in, she exploded. "Are you insane, Ichigo?! You were going to kill that jerk!" "It was him. Don't you see, Rukia? You can't have sex with that monster. He's crazy!" Ichigo's words stopped her fury cold, and Rukia's face paled. Nonetheless, she wouldn't give up. Not when she's this close. "I...I still will." Her boyfriend sighed. It appeared that his plan would not work, and he was very distraught over what his other self might do to Rukia. A bell rang, signaling the pair's arrival at their floor. The walk to their room was one of strained silence for the two--ignoring the wild moans coming from inside the rooms they passed. Soon enough, Rukia was unlocking the door to the Eclipse Room and they went in. The Eclipse Room had always been a favorite of Ichigo and Rukia's and they frequently rented it out. Inside, dark, velvet curtains draped the edges of a round chamber that was large...but not too big. It was dark; the only light coming from a dozen or so candles hovering in midair. Aside from a door leading to an elegant bathroom, the only thing else occupying the room was the king-sized bed. Though other suites in the hotel were far more fancy and playful, Rukia and Ichigo liked this simple one the most. As soon as the door closed shut and the couple stepped in, Ichigo could not hold himself back any longer. Or his hollow couldn't. It's hard to say which one was in control; the edges of Ichigo's pupils were turning black. Whichever personality it was, Rukia suffered the rough groping all the same. Oh, fuck yeah! Finally, I get some action! The hollow roared in approval. "What was that?" Rukia asked, surprised, amid her struggles to get away from the deranged sex maniac. Wait, did the hollow just say that out loud? That doesn't matter as he, or Ichigo, tried putting a sloppy kiss on Rukia. She had enough, then, and whacked Ichigo with the mysterious bag. His assault took a brief hiatus. Now, glaring at Rukia was more important. "Just wait, Ichigo!" Rukia screamed, before soon becoming scared from the dirty eye she got. "I...I need to change first..." Her grip on the bag grew stronger. Ichigo laughed--the hollow laughed, actually. "Just take your clothes off! Why the hesitation? I'm giving you what you want!" "No...there's this...there's something I need to do first," stammered Rukia, backing away from a man she didn't know. "Oh, go ahead! I've waited this long already," the hollow gave in. "You better be quick, though!" Bowing her head, Rukia dashed off to the bathroom and slammed the door. The sound of a lock being turned could be heard, as well as the rustling of clothing being removed. These noises served to make the hollow called Ichigo incredibly aroused. Consequently, his physical transformation quickened and Ichigo's muscles pulsed and grew as his body turned into that of a hollow. Horny, his alternate persona tore off his own clothes without any wasted movements. Meanwhile, a familiar mask formed over Ichigo's face. Next, a tail slithered out of Ichigo's backside. Sheer power emanating from him shook the flames of candles overhead. Luckily, all those candles hid the growing stench wafting out of his demonic form. The titillation felt by the hollow reached a fever pitch as his metamorphosis neared completion. His manhood stood to attention and was ready to defile Ichigo's loved one. Yeah, he was going to savor every fucking second of that. Ohhh, she needed to hurry the fuck up so he could fuck her! Fuck! "Woman!" the hollow bellowed with Ichigo's vocal chords. "Come on out, already! You've had your time! Now it's time for my--no, our fun! Let's play!" Her reply was muffled by the doorway. "O-Okay," she mumbled. "Just a second..." "Now!" Timidly, the door to the bathroom creaked open. Before Rukia stepped through, the hollow started towards it. Such was his eagerness. At last, Rukia emerged! Except, this was not Rukia. No...this was an entirely different woman! Who was this? In her place was a new being of a higher order; a sex demon instead of a death goddess. At the bottom of this magnificent female were leather, high-heeled boots that went right up to her knees. Above the boots, her white, smooth, creamy thighs were left bare; from her shoulders down was a black, leather bustier that accentuated both her cleavage and hips. Continuing with the leather theme, Rukia's balled fists were adorned with black gloves. More than anything else, Rukia wore sheer confidence. Right down to her most frightening feature: a twisted smile. However, Ichigo's hollow cared for none of this. As soon as he caught sight of Rukia, he pounced... ...Only to find himself suddenly stopped. Huh? He couldn't move! What the fuck just happened?! The hollow looked down and saw his nude body was covered in ropes, his hands bound behind his back. In Rukia's left hand was a small, unusual device. She had been prepared for the hollow and slapped Urahara's little invention on him quicker than he could molest her. The thing, whatever it was, instantaneously sprouted straps of hemp that now tied up the hollow Ichigo. To sum it up, the tables had turned. Only, the hollow hadn't quite realized this yet. "What the hell are you doing, woman?!" he shouted, desperately pushing against the ropes in vain. Rukia gave him a swift backhand for his efforts. "Shut up!" ordered Rukia, glaring at her prey. "No! When I said play, this wasn't what-" A swift push knocked him over, onto the bed and interrupting him. "Then what did you mean?" glowered Rukia. Then, she burst into a mad fit of laughing before sauntering to the bed. "Isn't this fun?" she whispered, straddling the man and rubbing her hand along the hollow's muscular thigh. This bitch is crazy! thought the hollow, too scared to voice this aloud. He was mostly right. In reality, the sexy outfit Rukia wore made her crazy. However, it did so by awakening the unconscious impulses in the wearer. How could it do this? Who knows. Not even Urahara was sure and he made the damn thing. The deranged woman's assault on the hollow continued, regardless. "Yes," she moaned in passion, that hand mentioned earlier creeping up towards the hollow's member. "What's this?" Rukia gasped in coy surprise when her fingers wrapped around it. "My, my, you've been a...very...bad...boy..." With each word, she would emphasize every syllable by tightening her grip further on the hollow's manhood; to the point of it being painful. After, she used the other hand to reach for the balls. "That's it!" squealed the hollow, breathing heavily. "I can't take this anymore! I'm outta here!" Rukia was shocked by this development. "H-Huh?" And Ichigo's body changed once more to its usual, albeit naked, form. First, the tail receded into his back, then the muscles shrank--though the sheen of sweat remained--and Ichigo's eyes returned to normal...His hard-on didn't change at all. For a second, Rukia and Ichigo just stared at each other. Then... "Bring him back!" Rukia demanded. "I wasn't done with him!" Ichigo's eyes spread open and he could hear the hollow crying in protest at the notion. Was she serious? "How about we just do it like--" The bonds no longer taut, Ichigo began to sit up...only to be pushed down by an enraged girlfriend. "No! I'm having my way with the hollow and that's that!" She was serious. "Come on!" Ichigo argued, sitting up again. "It'd be better if we just--" He was slammed against the bed once more. Furthermore, Rukia tightened up the ropes so he couldn't move. "Get-him-out!" she growled. All right. Ichigo didn't really have a problem with his hollow half and Rukia having sex if she was going to be like this. So, he tried coercing the hollow to come out...and he was met by a stone wall. Fuck no! the hollow refused. I'm never going out there again! What the fuck?! Wasn't that bastard anxious for any chance for a quick screw?! "Hurry up, Ichigo!" badgered Rukia, impatient. "I'm trying, but he's refusing to come out!" Ichigo gave a valid excuse. Not good enough, though, for somebody beyond sanity. "Then make him!" "Really, he's not budging an inch!" "Aren't you the boss of him!" Rukia started whacking Ichigo in spite. "Don't let him gain the upper hand and let me fuck him, already!" Defenseless, Ichigo had no choice but to take the abuse. "I'm not kidding! If I could have made the fucking hollow come out, I would have by now!" Rukia growled in vexed frustration. "Oh, to hell with it!" she conceded in anger. "I'll just do it with you, then!" Sweet joy filled Ichigo. "Oh, thank god!" he panted in relief. "Okay, could you untie me so that..." Ichigo trailed off when her hand caressed his chest and toyed with his nipples. "H-Hey! What are you doing! Untie me!" Rukia's other hand was buried between her thighs and moving animately. "Oh, I can't do that," she hushed Ichigo. "I still need my story." What? "Story? What st-" The hand lingering on his chest went south. "No! Rukia, stop!" --- "...And then I went and had sex with him while he was tied up," concluded Rukia with a happy sigh. Matsumoto and Yoruichi hooted like maniacs and Unohana smiled angelically. All in all, their plan to get Rukia to do something nuts was completely worth it. Yoruichi still couldn't get enough of this. "Sex with a hollow?! What the hell were you thinking?! Then fucking Ichigo when he was tied up, even though your initial plan didn't work?!" This was too rich. The bustiest of the bunch was too drunk and too delirious to say anything cohesive. Now, the moment of truth. While Rukia was clearly successful in impressing two of her friends, the toughest nut had yet to be cracked. How would Unohana respond? "Nice work, Rukia dear," complimented Unohana. Yes! Success! Rukia nearly leaped in joy until she noticed the Sex Master still had more to say. "Nice work," her Holy Sexiness repeated, "but what are you going to do next time?" ...Say again? Next time? Next time?! "Personally," Unohana went on, "I recommend trying the same thing...except try having a little bit of fun with hot wax. That would certainly heat matters up. Why, I remember a rather interesting night with Kenpachi, in particular, when I..." --- Seriously, next time?! --- Really, there is no end for those ensnared in the wild circle of sex like Rukia was. The depravity just keeps on building up and, before you know it, somebody's off to prison for illicit conduct with a goat. All you can do is pray that the goat is a pretty goat without any sexual diseases.Well, that's it for this ride. I hope all the questions from last half's teaser were answered because that's the end of this one.
Abonohu te:
Posto komente (Atom)
Nuk ka komente:
Posto një koment