"You're kidding me, right?" I ask dryly, incredulously. Urahara's eyes slide to the side, guiltily, and my hands clench. "I have a penis," I hiss, making a sharp gesture at my crotch and the very much manly parts that exist there. "Do I look like a goddamn maiden?!"

Urahara's infernal fan comes out as he gives a cough, peering at me over it. "Well, actually, the ritual calls for a virgin that is at least eighteen years of age. It just usually happens to be a woman because, well, men tend to lose their virginity earlier." A hot flush takes over my cheeks, and I resist the urge to smack that goddamned fan out of the older man's hands. "You're the only person in the village who fits that description, and no one else is coming of age for a few more months, not quick enough. You'll have to be the sacrifice."

I cross my arms, looking down at the ground beneath my bare feet. "There's no alternative?" I ask after a few moments, through my teeth.

Urahara gives a small shrug. "In cases where there are no acceptable sacrifices, a priest can be a substitute, but unfortunately you do fit the requirements. Attempts to fool a god are not usually recommended."

No, that would be a bad idea. The God I follow, that the whole town follows, is fairer than most. We're protected from other gods and disasters alike, and he ensures that our crops always grow and the hunting around our town is always decent. In exchange, once a year during the middle of spring, there's the ritual of the Blood Maiden. I'd always assumed it was just a 'maiden', but apparently it's one virgin of at least eighteen years of age, that is sent into the forest as a sacrifice to please him. It's generally assumed that he deflowers them, but the sacrifices are forbidden to talk about the events of the night to anyone but other sacrifices, so no one actually knows but them.

I've never seen anyone come out hurt, at least.

"Fine," I concede, grudgingly. "But when this is over I'm going to kill you, just so you know."

He grins, fan disappearing back into his priest robes. "Of course! You should tell your friends and family, you'll be sequestered inside the priest's cave for two weeks as preparation."

Not even joking. I'm going to murder him when this is done.


The weeks pass slowly, in a haze. The sacred caves - though why they're sacred no one but the priests are quite sure - that the priests live in are dimly lit, and expansive. They restrict my diet, enforce my hygiene to what I consider an absurd level, and put me through extensive exercise for most of the day. They talk to me, but never about anything relating to my upcoming sacrifice. Urahara is absent for all of it, but the others are friendly enough.

On the night of the actual ritual Urahara shows back up, suspiciously serious. "Are you ready?" he asks me, and I shrug.

I've been scrubbed to within an inch of my life, my orange hair carefully trimmed to hang around my neck but not to obscure my eyes, and the diet and exercise has stripped any excess fat I may have had. Not that I had much to begin with, anyway. I was training to be a hunter, being in shape is part of the job.

"I suppose, not like I can back out now."

He leads me out, through the cave system towards somewhere close to the entrance, where the other priests are waiting for me. They quickly, and efficiently, strip me out of my clothes. One of them approaches with a small bucket, and I force down a shiver as I see the contents. Sacrifices for the Blood Maiden ritual are painted up before being set loose in the forest, but I'd never had any idea that it was actual blood on them. I close my eyes as the priests paint the lines over me, trying to ignore the scent of blood that rises around me. It's faint, but thanks to their scrubbing I don't smell like anything else, so I smell it more sharply. Once done, they redress me in nothing but a wrapped piece of black cloth around my hips, that's way too much like a skirt for my liking, and I resist looking at the sigils and lines covering my exposed skin.

"It's time," Urahara says softly, and takes my arm - careful to avoid the still drying blood - to escort me out of the caves. It's just after sunset, I know that much from watching other year's rituals, and he leads me to the edge of the forest. Most of the other people from the town are gathered, but they hang back. There are no lights, and I realize with sudden clarity that the priests' caves are almost the same level of light as out here, and my eyes have adjusted over the last two weeks. I can see decently well in only the moonlight.

Urahara nudges me towards the forest, and I take a brief breath in before moving forward. There's an accompanying speech, some other things that Urahara will perform, but not until I'm in the forest. Thank God I don't have to listen, literally, actually.

The forest makes me wary, but I soldier forwards anyway. I lose sight of the edge quickly, and soon enough I'm only surrounded by the shadows of the trees and the ambient sounds of the forest. My soles are used to the forest floor, so it doesn't hurt as much as it could have, but it's not the most pleasant feeling.

It feels like I wander for hours, hearing the movement of the animals around me, the rustle of bushes and leaves, but not seeing any of them. When I do finally wander across one, I don't see it until it moves. When the darkness moves at the base of a tree, at first I think I'm seeing things, and then I see the two spots of blue, eyes. I stop, staring the ten or so feet separating us, and the animal obligingly steps forward into a slightly brighter patch of moonlight. It's a panther, sleek, with a mouth full of sharp teeth, and my eyes narrow.

"You're not native," I say softly, and I swear it grins at me. A moment later, with no warning, it leaps at me, and I swallow a shout, diving out of the way. I roll, ignoring the scratch of sticks and leaves against the bare skin of my back and arms, and come back up in a crouch. At the same moment it lands and whirls on me, ears flat on its head and a growl splitting the air between us. I clench my teeth, bracing one hand on the ground and waiting for it to move. Without tools, or a weapon of some kind, there's no way I stand a chance against a predator like this.

It doesn't take long, and I take off running as it makes its second jump. Not the best way to deal with a predator, but I don't have many other options. I can hear it following me, hear the impact of paws against the ground, and I speed up a touch as it roars behind me. No danger, my ass. Am I seriously going to be the first sacrifice to get eaten? A flash of white teeth from in front of me, suddenly lighting up the darkness between two trees with the glow of grey eyes, makes me skid to turn, all but bouncing off a tree to make a sharp right. A howl, clearly a wolf, follows my flight.

This isn't natural, this can't be. Wolf packs are a thing in this forest, occasionally, but a panther? No, absolutely not. It just doesn't happen.

My breath comes hard, fast, as I dash between trees and do my best not to run straight into the undergrowth between them. After a few minutes I realize I can't hear them behind me anymore, and I risk a glance over my shoulder to check. There's no hint of pursuit, and I slow down mostly, scanning the forest behind me a little more carefully. Nothing, and the only sound is the thunder of my own heart and the harsh pant of my breath.

I stop, fully, turning back to face the way I came. I brace one hand against a nearby tree, hanging my head a moment to control my breathing. I'm not there for more than a second before something grips my arm and spins me, slamming me harshly back against the same tree. I suck in a sharp breath, startled, and stare at the man pinning me against the tree by my upper arms, too shocked to fight just yet.

He's both taller and bigger than me, with hair that I can't quite see the color of slicked back against his skull, one strand falling between his eyes. He's dressed in a set of close-fitting black clothing, finer made than anything we have in our small town by far, the kind of quality you'd need to go to one of the capitols to get, and there's a thick black cloak wrapped around his shoulders, secured at his throat by a silver pin. Half his face is cloaked in shadow, from the angle we're at, but what I can see is enough to make me suck in another breath. His eyes are brown, just barely glowing in the darkness, and his mouth is curved in a small smirk.

God.

His eyes slide up and down my frame, lingering and intent enough that it feels like a physical caress, before he meets my eyes again. His smirk grows by a fraction, and he presses closer, up against me. I can't do anything but stare, my heart still pounding away in my chest. His grip on my arms loosens, fingers leaving tingling trails as they trace the lines of blood on my arms. I shiver, my eyes flickering shut for a second.

He chuckles, voice a deep tenor that vibrates through his chest into mine. "Welcome, my Blood Maiden," he almost purrs, one leg sliding inexorably between my own.

A sharp flush rises almost instantly, and my breathing picks up a notch. "That's a terrible name," I manage to get out, head tilted back against the tree to meet his eyes. He blinks, looking almost surprised for a moment, before giving a soft sound of amusement.

"Yes, you are after all very clearly," his leg presses up, into my crotch, and I can't restrain the gasp, "not a maiden. Innocent of the pleasures of the flesh, but certainly not a female." He smirks, voice lowering to just above a murmur. "It's a pleasant change."

The flush is now permanent, and I give a thick swallow. "Sick of girls?" I ask, breathlessly.

He gives the smallest of shrugs, his right hand rising to restart its tracing on my throat. "Not as such, but the variety is a welcome change. If you dislike that title, shall I call you by something else, then? 'Dear', or 'sacrifice'?"

"How about 'Ichigo'?" I offer, fighting the urge to close my eyes under the gentle, tingling touch of his fingers on my neck. He pauses, and again I get the impression I've surprised him.

"Most don't choose to give me their name, I appreciate the gift, Ichigo." He gives a soft smile. "My true name is... difficult, for mortals to hear, but you may call me Sousuke."

I manage a small nod, glancing down at the rest of him. "Is this how you always look?" I ask, and his smile slips into a smirk.

"I can choose to appear as whatever I like, but this is my preferred form, yes. I generally take the form of a woman, when they send me males, but," his smirk turns vaguely wicked, "I got the impression you would prefer me as this gender." If my flush could get more intense, it does. "You're a rare treat, indeed. A male, but one I get to keep my favorite form with."

His hand slides up my throat, index finger tracing along my bottom lip, and I shudder. "So," I start, desperate for something else to latch onto, "that was you chasing me, then?"

He chuckles, his fingers leaving my lips to trace over my cheek and then slide into my hair. "No. Two of my subordinates, kings of their respective races. I had them guide you this direction."

"Why?" I manage to get out, and he smirks, leaning forward and sealing his mouth over mine in lieu of an answer.

He tastes like honey, like sugar, and when his tongue slips into my mouth it feels like every nerve under my skin sends a bolt of lust and arousal straight to my crotch. I whimper into his mouth, my back arching against the rough bark of the tree, left hand rising to grip a handful of his cloak as my right curls against the bark. His left hand leaves my arm to grip my ass instead and he cants my hips towards him, tilting them up and deliberately sliding my crotch against his leg. I give a cry that's muted by his mouth, helplessly trembling between the unyielding surface of the tree and the hard press of his body.

He withdraws from the kiss, though his hand keeps my hips tilted the same way and his leg stays firmly pressed against me. "I needed you deep into the forest," he murmurs against my lips, and I pry my eyes open to meet his glowing brown eyes. "I intend to make you scream for me, and I don't want anyone to hear it but me."

My brain shuts down for a moment, and all I can do is stare at him. He leans back, releasing me, before easily scooping me up into his arms. I give a startled little gasp, clutching at his clothing, and can't even summon the anger at being carried in the face of my overwhelming arousal. I'm not sure my legs would have held me anyway. He strides off into the forest, and I take the opportunity to bury my face in his chest to try and regulate my breathing.

It has to be a god thing. I've been kissed before, but never have I felt anything resembling that pleasure. It has to have been a god thing.

"Here," he says softly, and I turn my head to look out. We're in a recessed dip, stone walls roughly seven feet tall rising on three sides of the medium sized area that I can see. There's a small pool of water against one wall, but apart from that the entire floor of the area is covered in green moss. Shadows cling to the corners, but moonlight illuminates most of it. Sousuke kneels, gently lying me down, and I find to my surprise that the moss is soft, and more importantly completely dry.

"What is this place?" I ask, propping myself up on my hands. I can still see trees around us, and past Sousuke the land dips down in a gentle slope, so we're still in the forest I'm pretty sure. But I've been all over this forest and I've never seen anything remotely like this recessed area.

Sousuke smirks, his gaze rising to take in the area around us. "Mine," he answers simply. "No one can find this place unless I give them the knowledge to."

I open my mouth to ask something, another question, before snapping it shut as he leans over me, one hand landing on my left thigh and stroking upwards, beneath the wrap of cloth. I inhale shakily, and his fingers squeeze down over the muscle of my thigh with gentle pressure. I slip down to rest on my elbows, my head dipping, and my flush returns as I notice that my erection is making an extremely noticeable tent in the cloth covering it. He makes a noise of approval, moving to kneel between my legs, as his free hand duplicates the slow side up my other thigh. He pauses, and his smirk fades a little.

"There are two rules to this encounter," he says softly, "and you must agree to them before I go any farther." I manage a nod, and do my best to focus with his hands still resting so close to my groin. "You are not allowed to tell any other living being the details of this night." I nod in agreement, even as my eyes narrow slightly. I'd thought that sacrifices could talk to other sacrifices, but I must have been wrong. "Secondly, you will not touch any other being sexually for two years after this date, without my permission. Do you agree?"

That's a long time, but it's not like I had plans for anyone anyway. I nod. "I agree." I feel something, like the firm press of a hand around my throat, for a moment before it vanishes.

Sousuke's lips curl into a heated smirk, and both his hands give a gentle flex. "Wonderful." His left hand pulls away from my thigh, rising to unclasp the pin holding his cloak together, and he drops the thick bundle of cloth to one side of us. I swallow as his second hand pulls back and he tugs his top up and over his arms, giving me an eyeful of tanned skin and sculpted muscle. I guess being a god comes with an automatically impressive physique. I have to swallow back a moan of appreciation.

He makes a sharp noise, and I flinch slightly in surprise. "No," he reprimands, and I look up to meet his eyes in confusion. His hands fall to my torso, teasing fingers sliding up my ribs, and my breath hitches. "Don't hide your sounds from me, Ichigo," he says softly, and I can't stop my eyes flickering as his fingers drop to the v of my pelvis, just above the line of cloth. "Don't ever."

I give a small nod, a murmured, "alright," and he smirks.

His hands slip to the wrap, deftly untying the simple strings on either side that keep it up, and I shiver as he pulls it away from my now naked form. I still feel a moment of trepidation as he looks at me, before he makes a deep sound of appreciation, eyes rising to meet mine. "Every inch of you is as pleasant as the next," he says quietly, voice a low purr that makes me shudder in arousal. "I have not desired a sacrifice as I desire you for quite some time."

He leans over me, pushing me down flat on my back with a single hand on my shoulder, and kisses me. I get the same rush as the first time, my fingers clawing into the moss, and when he pulls away I have just enough brain power left to gasp out, "What is that?"

He chuckles, pulling away only far enough to press his lips against the side of my neck. "It is a minor transfer of my power. To mortals, the feeling is close to resembling an orgasm in itself, it is no drain on me."

"A transfer?" I ask breathlessly, giving a whine of pleasure as his teeth scrape against my skin.

"Nothing permanent, or serious," he murmurs, teeth closing gently on the lobe of my ear. "Saliva, Ichigo," he whispers in my ear, forcing a shuddering whimper between my teeth. "You're holding a part of me, do you like it?"

"I... it's..." I can't get full sentences out of my mouth, my brain has short-circuited. He gives a sound of amusement, the hand not pressing me into the ground dipping between my legs to give my cock a slow stroke before releasing it. I suck in a breath, trembling and giving a breathless cry of pleasure.

"Mmm, just wait. When I release inside of you, it will be ecstasy." I think I stop breathing for a few seconds, as my mind fully comprehends that statement, before somewhat coming back to earth at the press of fingers against my asshole.

They're slick, slippery with something, and one slips in without trouble. It's a weird feeling, but not uncomfortable or painful. It slips in and out a few times before a second finger joins it, stretching the ring of muscle out around them. It's a few minutes of gentle movements, of Sousuke's lips and teeth on my neck as I shiver in pleasure, before he adds a third finger. It feels actively good now, a dull ache of pleasure at the stimulation of the sensitive nerves, and I can't help tilting my hips up to try and get more, get them deeper. He makes a sound of pleasure, giving a slight chuckle against my throat.

"The things I could do to you, Ichigo," he says softly, his fingers rocking into me. "The ways that I could have you. We have all night, after all." Hazed into the pleasure as I am, I still notice when he adds a fourth finger to the ones fucking me, and I give a soft whimper at the added stretch. He pauses, stretching his fingers out and lightly scraping them against my inner walls, I give a choked sound of pleasure. I feel like this should hurt, I know if I did it to myself it would. Is it the lubrication, his practice, or is it just that he's a god? "I could slip my entire hand into you," he murmurs, "watch you writhe around my fist, would you like that?"

Oh, God. My fingers dig into the ground, my eyes squeezing shut as I arch off of the moss. "Anything," I beg softly, "please, anything." If I could see it past him, I wouldn't be surprised if my dick was purple, I feel that worked up. That needy. If anyone had told me I'd be begging for my God to fuck me, I probably would have punched them in the face, but, well...

He stills above me, and to my surprise I feel a faint tremble run through him. "Later," he says softly, a husk to his voice. "Later, my dear Ichigo." His fingers slip out of me, and I give a little noise of loss as my hole spasms around empty air, before something bigger, thick, warm, and slippery with that same substance is pressing back into me. My breath leaves me, and I shudder around what feels like an infinite slide of flesh into me, until finally I feel the warm press of skin against my inner thighs and he stops moving. It doesn't hurt, but I feel full in all the right ways, and it's a different enough sensation that it takes me a few moments to acclimate. It also occurs to me, dimly and in the back of my mind, that he must have straight out magicked his pants away, because neither of his hands were free.

A helpless cry leaves my throat when Sousuke shifts within me, pulling out a few inches, and I arch off the ground as I feel his breath against my shoulder. My hands leave the ground, clutching at his back. He makes a soft sound of approval, pushing back into me, and I can feel the tiny tremble in his frame. His hand leaves my shoulder, gently grasping my left hip, and his second hand slips underneath me, around my back.

"Grip as hard as you like, Ichigo," he says softly, speaking into my ear, "you can't hurt me."

I take him at his word, clinging to him with most of my not inconsiderable strength as he begins to move. It's slow at first, gentle, rocking, thrusts, but it doesn't stay that way for too long. His pace picks up, the roll becoming more of a slam, and I bury my head against his shoulder, each thrust prompting a cry or a gasp from me. The pleasure builds, my cock pressed between our two stomachs, and I give a choked moan, resisting the urge to bite into his shoulder.

"Sousuke," I warn softly, desperately, and he makes a low noise in my ear that nearly pushes my orgasm over the edge instantaneously.

"Come for me, Ichigo," he says, demands, and I give a helpless sob as I obey. The pleasure peaks, and I arch and dig my nails into his back with a loud cry as I come between us, my release spreading over both our stomachs. I spend several moments in a haze of bliss, Sousuke still slamming into me, and I'm just coming down when he gives a soft sound of pleasure and pushes hard into me. I feel the warmth of his release spread into me, and shortly following it is a tidal wave of pleasure that slams hard into me. A sharp cry leaves my throat and I'm back to being arched, nails digging into the God's back. The pleasure is so intense that it borders on pain, my head tilting back against the ground as tears gather in my eyes. It's way, way too fast for me to completely orgasm again, but my cock does manage to give one last spurt at the extreme sensation.

Luckily, it ends after a few moments, and I sink back to the ground, shuddering.

Sousuke presses soft, gentle kisses to my throat, cradling me with the one arm around my back. He gently pulls out of me, and I jerk weakly at the sensation, my grip on his back loosening. He eases me onto my side, my arms curling in front of me against the moss, and he presses against my back. One of his hands grips the upper thigh of my top leg, gently but firmly pulling it up and over his hip. I shudder and give a moan that feels like it's been wrenched from the deepest part of my chest as his dick slowly slides back into me. He's still hard, still throbbing in time with the heartbeat I can feel against my back, and I take a moment to foggily decide that it must be a god thing.

I'm not going to stop him if he starts fucking me again, I definitely don't think I have the strength in my limbs to even try, but I don't think I can quite handle it yet and I hope he doesn't. I wait, my eyes closed and my breath coming in harsh, deep, drags, but all he does is press a gentle kiss against the back of my neck and rub his hand over my thigh.

"Welcome to the end of your time as a virgin," he says softly, satisfaction obvious in his tone, and I manage some kind of agreeing noise. "Just so you know," he starts, fingers stroking over my upper thigh and my hip, "you are an exceptional mortal." I stir, in questioning, and he presses another kiss to the skin of my neck. "Most mortals can't handle my first release into them, it has been hundreds of years since a mortal has weathered my release without blacking out. Most don't have the strength."

"So I'm special?" I ask blearily, managing to pry my eyes open.

He chuckles, teeth lightly scraping over the same spot he's been kissing, which makes me shiver and tense for a moment in arousal. "Yes, you are. I look forward to the rest of the night."

I wince a little, feeling the hard rod inside me as I clench, and let out a long, deep, breath before speaking. "So, is that going to happen every time? I... I don't think I can handle that," I admit. One time sapped pretty much all my strength, if that happens again I don't think I'm going to stay conscious.

His fingers rub a small circle into the hollow of my pelvis, and I feel the slow curl of arousal start again. "Yes, and no. Each time will be less intense than the previous, as your body acclimates to the transfer." He gives a rumble of appreciation, the vibrations traveling through into my shoulders, and his hand wraps over my hip. "If you believe you can't take another, tell me. I can make it a point to not release inside of you if you wish."

I shiver slightly, but manage a small shake of my head. "No, it's alright." If he's telling the truth, and I don't see why he wouldn't be, then I can probably take it. His teeth scrape over the back of my neck again, over a knob of my spine, and I give a soft moan of pleasure, dropping my head a few inches to stretch my neck out in front of him.

"Are you ready?" he asks softly, giving a slow roll of his hips to accentuate his point, and my breath stutters in my throat.

"I can take it," I answer, mostly steadily, and he makes a sound of approval.

He angles me forward slightly, pressing me partially down against the soft carpet of moss, and leans over me. I give a groan of pleasure as he starts to fuck me, hips pressing against my ass with each thrust home, one hand wrapped around my hip to hold me in place against the force. It's only a few thrusts in when he hits something that makes my back bow, a startled moan of pleasure dragging itself from my throat, he gives a huffed sound of amusement as he stills inside of me, mouth lowering to press against the back of my shoulder.

"Your prostate," he explains softly. "The position I originally had you in wasn't ideal for stimulating it, but this one is. Enjoy."

He resumes his thrusts, and I have to guess that he's carefully aimed himself, because he hits my prostate with every thrust inwards, sending spikes of pleasure up and down my spine. It's only been a short time since my orgasm, and even though I'm young I still need a certain amount of recovery time, so I don't get hard, but the pleasure isn't lessened any. I breathe against the ground, trembling and giving intermittent moans as he fucks me. It feels good, it feels amazing if I'm totally honest, and I float in a haze of pleasure.

It feels like hours that he fucks me, pace slow and measured, and eventually my cock does reawaken. My moans gain pitch, turning to soft cries as he speeds up in answer to my renewed erection. He starts pulling me back on his thrusts, pushing deeper then before, and all I can do, as I claimed, is take it. At some point his hand releases my hip, reaching forward and wrapping around my erection, and I give a small pleading noise, cushioning my head against my arms so my cheek isn't pressed into the moss. He strokes me in counterpoint to his thrusts, setting up a perfect rhythm between his hips and his hand. My orgasm approaches much slower this time, but it still does so steadily. It's a rising swell instead of a sharp spike, dragging me onto a plateau of pleasure and into an orgasm that seems to drag on and on, pulling a long, low moan from my throat as I jerk and spill onto the moss beneath us.

He keeps going, perfectly in control, and I give a small shudder, clenching my eyes shut as the blissful high of my orgasm fades. It's not uncomfortable in the slightest, the position I'm in doesn't have any strain and the moss is comfortable, but the continued pleasure and the repeated presses on my prostate are kind of overwhelming.

"Are you just going to keep fucking me?" I ask raggedly, and he gives a sound of amusement.

"I can," he answers, pressing biting kisses against the back of my shoulders and my neck. "I have a tremendous amount of self control, I could quite literally fuck you the whole night if I wanted to."

While the image is kind of amazing, and sends a wash of heat down my back, it's also kind of scary. He might be a god, but I'm just a human. I can't take that much, I know it. "I'd like it if you didn't," I admit, giving a quietly desperate whimper as his now free hand rises to my nipples, standing straight up from both the chill in the air and the continued pleasure, and toys with them. That feels good, but I'm so damn sensitive right now that it verges on painful.

"As you wish," he murmurs into my ear, teeth tracing along the shell of it, and gently pushes me forward so I'm flat on my stomach and he's hovering over my back. His hands close on my hips, firm but infinitely careful, and his measured, careful pace finally breaks. I give a slightly startled cry as he slams into me, continuing with a rhythm that is hard, fast, and utterly amazing. I shake, the strokes no longer aimed at my prostate, but occasionally hitting it nonetheless with ensuing bursts of sharp pleasure. It's intense, overwhelming, and I give a soft whine of pleasure.

He still slams into me at least a few dozen times before erratically pumping a few times, sinking his teeth into my shoulder as he trembles with release. I give a cry that turns into a drawn out moan as the resulting wave of pleasure from the transfer of power hits me. As promised, it's drastically lessened, but it's still enough to make my overly sensitive body tremble in time with the God's, wiping out all higher brain function. His teeth release me, leaving an aching spot on the back of my shoulder, and he gently kisses it in something like apology.

He slips out of me, and I give a shuddering groan. I can feel the trickle of something, that I assume is probably his seed, slipping out of my twitching hole and down the inside of my thigh, but I'm too high on the remnants of pleasure to really be grossed out. From a virgin to twice-fucked by a god in one night, and that's just so far. I have absolutely no idea how long its been, and while I could probably tell by where the moon is I honestly don't give a damn.

He presses against my back, giving a soft huff of amusement. I can feel his dick against my leg, but I can also feel that it's thankfully soft. Does he have complete control over its state, or does it just take two orgasms to force him into recovery? "I would love," he starts, voice a low, satisfied hum, "to finish fucking you, four or five times in a row, and slip something into you to hold all of my seed inside while you rest." I shudder, heat that is only slightly unwelcome curling in my gut at the descriptive words. "To pull it back out of you and sink into your still clenching hole, filling you with another load before plugging you back up. The feel of you, already wet inside with my release, is like nothing else. I'd like it all the time."

It takes me a moment to remember how to breathe, and then to get the fantasy far enough out of my head to actually speak. "We haven't hit four yet," I point out. There's a moment of silence, and then he laughs against the back of my neck. It's the first time he sounds genuinely amused to the point of laughter, and doesn't just sound like he's voicing his amusement for my benefit.

"Oh, Ichigo," he says, lips curling into a smile that I can feel against my skin, "you are the first sacrifice to try matching me. While I appreciate the thought, I am fully aware of your mortal confinements. I do not wish to push you beyond what you can take, so I will make do with simpler fantasies." He pulls away from my back, lifting my hips up with his grip so I'm on my knees with my ass relatively high in the air, and I feel the sharp nip of teeth against the skin of one of my cheeks. "But I will see the result of my work."

His hands release my hips, sliding inwards over my ass, and I give a little gasp as what I'm pretty sure are both his thumbs slip into my loosened hole with ease. He pulls them apart, stretching me open, and I give a jerky moan, burying my head in my arms. The stretch of his thumbs pulling my hole open probably feels more intense than it is, but it feels like he's stretched me wide enough to shove a hand in without trouble, like I'm gaping open. He makes an approving sound, and at the noise I automatically and uselessly clench down around his thumbs. That prompts a heated, pleased, sound, and he slowly removes the tension, letting my hole close bit by bit till he slips first one thumb out and then the second. His fingers sooth over my hips.

"Come on, let's clean you up," he murmurs, gently lifting me into his arms. He only stands long enough to move over to the pool, stepping down into it. I tense in anticipation of the cold water, but find to my surprise and infinite pleasure that it's almost hot instead. It's only comes up to Sousuke's waist, so a little higher for me, and I can dimly see rock shelves around the edges that could serve as seats. He carefully sets me down, letting me stand on my own, and I silently appreciate his grip on my upper arms. My legs are a little shaky, I'm not totally sure I wouldn't just fall in if he wasn't taking most of my weight.

He guides me to sit down on one of underwater shelves, the water coming up to my neck as I rest my back against the rock wall of the edge of the pool. I let out a deep breath, resting my head against his shoulder as he sits down next to me, just allowing myself to relax. He wraps an arm around my waist, holding me to him, and I lose track of time sitting there. The water is soothing, working into me and threatening to make me fall asleep, and even the slightly strange feeling of the water inside me, where my hole is no longer tight enough to hold it out, isn't enough to stop that feeling of relaxation.

Sousuke's free hand strokes over me, over my skin and muscles, and after a few moments of it I realize he's doing as promised, cleaning the evidence of our activities off of me. He presses a lingering kiss to the skin below my ear, speaking into it.

"Turn around," he orders, and after the moment it takes to process the command, I obey. I slowly force myself around, following his guiding touches and rising up on my knees on the shelf, cushioning the upper half of my chest on the moss outside the pool, arms crossed below my head. "My good boy," Sousuke murmurs against my skin, the heat of his body pressing against mine. My ass is barely out of the water, most of my cock still within the heat, and I get the suspicion that he's about to fuck me again. I'm not going to complain.

I give a little shudder as two of his fingers slip into me, quickly followed by a third. It feels good, the rocking motion a gentler version of the intensity of his cock, but after the stretching he'd done earlier, and then the two separate fucks, the three fingers don't feel like much of anything. The God is big, after all. Whether he just feels big, or is, I don't actually know - I haven't really had the opportunity to look him over now that his clothes are off - but I'd bet it's the latter. If you're a god, and you can look like whatever you like, why settle for smaller or even average?

At this point, I think I'm just going to enjoy whatever he does to me. If he fucks me like this, that'll be great. If he doesn't, that's fine too.

He does end up fucking me over the edge of the pool, splashing water out to soak into the moss, and many times after that as well. I lose track of the number of times over the course of the night, and that's alright. There comes a point where my cock simply refuses to get hard, but it doesn't slow him down. The pleasure is still there, after all, and I still enjoy it even if there's no chance of me coming again. The second time in the pool, right before he lets me pass out for some amount of time, he washes the lines of blood off of me. Eventually, as he rocks lazily into me, the both of us under the warmth of his cloak, he gives a soft sigh.

"It's almost dawn," he comments softly. I stir where I'm pressed back against his chest, raising my head with herculean effort to glance up at the sky. It is lighter, the moon completely gone, and a faint hint of purple and blue starting to intrude on the star-covered blackness. He gives a single sharp thrust, stilling inside me as I give a trembling moan. My cock gives an interested twitch, but nothing further. "I'm loath to give you up," he says, with something almost close to anger. "Who knows how long it will be before I get another night with someone half as interesting as you?"

"So don't," I mumble, my eyes closing, fighting against the tide of exhaustion that wants to claim me. My bit of sleep had helped tremendously, but Sousuke is a god, and hard to keep up with. I think I did pretty damn well, considering that I'm just a mortal.

"You are no longer a virgin," he says with amusement, lips pressing against the outside of my arm, "and the night is nearly over. I no longer have any claim on you."

I don't get the problem, but maybe that's just because I'm too tired to really comprehend it. "Change the rules," I manage to say.

"What?" he asks, with something close to shock.

I drag my head up to look over my shoulder at him, eyes slitted because I can barely keep them open and not out of any kind of anger. "You're a god, Sousuke, don't you make the rules? If you decided that a priest had to dance around town naked every year for your satisfaction, they'd do it." A mildly delirious laugh pulls itself out of my throat at the mental image, though it quickly sobers when I realize I don't particularly want to think of Urahara like that.

There's a long silence, which I honestly barely even notice, my head falling back to the moss. Eventually I startle back to awareness as Sousuke begins to move inside me, in slow unhurried thrusts, and I give a pleased groan. "Well then, one more time, Ichigo, before I send you back to your town."

I can't muster a reply, clinging with one hand at the ground and the other at the arm he has wrapped around my chest. He's already been fucking me, in this slow, lazy, way for what I swear has been hours, so it's a much shorter time before he's finished. He doesn't speed up, just presses deep inside me and gives a quiet groan into the back of my neck. The rush is so diluted at this point that all I do is shudder, feeling momentarily high as my cock twitches and I clench down around him.

He pulls out of me, and I'm mildly convinced that with as much as he's fucked me tonight I'm never going to fully close, releasing a small trickle of come to join the mess already on my inner thighs. It's not wonderfully comfortable, but it's kind of a satisfying feeling in a weird way.

"You're so gorgeous like this," he murmurs, the hand wrapped over my chest pulling back. I tremble at the feeling of his fingers tracing the edges of my hole, barely dipping in. "Completely satisfied, exhausted, with my seed dripping from you. It's a shame I can't send you back to your town just like this. Relax, Ichigo, I'll take care of you."

I'm barely conscious of him moving me, his hands drifting over me, but after awhile he gently shakes me awake. I blink my eyes open, and realize I'm bundled up in his cloak, held in his arms. I glance around, and to my surprise I see the end of the forest not far away, and the buildings of my town beyond it. I'm home.

Sousuke chuckles, carefully setting me down, and while my legs shake for a moment they do hold. "It's been a wonderful night, Ichigo. Go on home." I shift as he releases me, carefully balancing my weight as I pull the cloak closed around me, and find that both my thighs are clean again. A moment of checking in with myself reveals that while I'm tired, all other evidence of our night is gone. The sting on my shoulder from where he'd bitten me, the ache of my thighs from the two separate times of riding him, are both gone, and I'm no longer covered in sweat and various combinations of our seed. God powers certainly are useful.

I dip my head in a nod, looking up to meet his gaze. "Fun night," I agree, "but I don't think I could do it again." His lips quirk in a smirk, one eyebrow rising in question. "Too much in too little time," I explain, fighting the urge to just slip to the ground and pass out right there on the forest floor. "I've only got so much energy."

He chuckles, leaning down and wrapping a hand around the back of my skull, bringing my head up to kiss me. I'm so ridiculously saturated with his power at this point that it's only a small thrill, but it still makes my knees weak for a moment. Of course, that might be mostly the exhaustion speaking.

"Still better than any mortal I've had before you," he murmurs against my lips, as he pulls back. "Go, Ichigo, before I'm tempted to drag you back to my glade and start again."

Now that's a threat. Any more and I'll be unconscious, I'm damn sure of that. I nod, giving him a tiny smile, and head for my town. It's only maybe fifteen feet out, but it feels much longer. The first rays of orange sunlight are coming over the top of the trees as I step out, and Urahara comes nearly running out between the buildings.

"Kurosaki!" Urahara almost collides with me, skidding to a stop and looking over me with wide eyes. "Are you alright?" he demands, and I glance back into the forest, looking for Sousuke. The God is gone, or at least out of sight.

"Just really tired," I answer, pulling the black cloak a little tighter around me. "Sleeping for at least a week sounds fantastic."

The priest visibly relaxes, offering me a wide grin. "Of course. Come on, Kurosaki, lets get you back to your bed."