Author's Note:

Again, this chapter is not intended to depict a consensual relationship, though it takes a slightly different form than the prior chapter. I wrote this mostly as a challenge to myself, to see if I could write something along these lines. I hope you enjoy it (or at least find it interesting)!

Warnings for this chapter: impact play, yaoi, dubcon.

Long after Izuru had fallen into an exhausted sleep, Gin padded out of the room on noiseless feet, sliding the door shut behind him with a whisper. Wearing only his hakama, he headed to the back porch, where their teacups from earlier lay abandoned. His haori and gi top had been discarded somewhere on the floor behind him, but he didn't care. He enjoyed the soft caresses of the night breeze on his bare skin, and no one would dare intrude on his quarters. Leaning against the railing, he regarded the blossoming trees with a contented, sleepy smile. His sweet, innocent Izuru had been everything he had dreamed about.

"You're very good with him," a smooth voice remarked from behind him.

Gin turned with no sign of surprise to see Aizen step out of thin air, his illusions shattering around him like broken glass. The handsome captain, clad in his white haori and black shihakusho, smiled at him gently. Only someone who knew the captain as well as Gin did would notice the hungry edge beneath the kindness. He always marveled at the way Aizen concealed his darkness beneath a bland façade.

Gin smirked at him, regarding him under lowered lids. "He's a pleasure to work with."

Aizen nodded, moving forward at a slow, predatory pace. Gin shivered as the older man paused, half a foot away, and lifted a hand to his face. "You won't be so busy playing with your new toy that you'll forget me, now, will you?" he asked softly.

Gin turned his head and planted a kiss on Aizen's palm. "Of course not, Aizen-taicho," he said smoothly. "How could I ever forget you?"

The brown-haired captain's lips spread in a cool smile. "Good." With no warning, he seized a handful of Gin's hair and yanked his head back at a painful angle. Gin went onto his toes, one hand resting on the railing for support, as Aizen bent him backwards. "Make sure you don't." With that, he claimed Gin's lips in an aggressive, open-mouthed kiss. Gin moaned as his captain's tongue tangled with his own, probing deep into his mouth as Aizen reinforced his claim over the younger man.

Aizen ground his hips against Gin, and Gin could feel the older captain's obvious arousal. He felt his own body stir in response with a familiar blend of lust and loathing. Every time Aizen touched him, caressed him, Gin swore that he would end this charade, but he never did. Instead, he arched sensuously against the only man he would ever call captain, panting as Aizen's hand tightened in his hair. Next time, he promised himself through the haze of desire. Next time. But he knew he wouldn't keep that promise.

When Aizen released him, Gin licked his lips seductively and purred, "You're sure eager tonight, taicho. Any reason why?" Eying the older captain's flushed face and narrowed eyes, he smirked. "Did you enjoy watching little Izuru-chan writhing beneath me?" He knew his former captain had been watching – the thought had added extra spice to the encounter. Though he only gets to watch. Not touch. Izuru-chan is mine.

Aizen's reiatsu flared dangerously. He trailed his fingers over Gin's collarbone, then brought them to rest on his jugular. Tightening just enough to make Gin gasp, he murmured, "Does he remind you of your Rangiku-chan?"

Gin tipped his head back in surrender, relaxing into the hand wrapped around his neck. You have no right to speak of her, he thought viciously. But none of that showed on his face. Instead, he laughed lightly. "My, I suppose so, in a way. He's so innocent, just like she was, ne?" His grin widened. "He'll be fun to break."

"You know, so would she," Aizen murmured in his ear.

"Oh, she lost her innocence a long time ago," Gin returned lowly. As you know full well. "Izuru-chan, now…" He shivered as he remembered Izuru's pained, needy whimpers when he had stripped the blond lieutenant of his last defenses and laid him open to Gin's avaricious perusal.

Aizen laughed, and, to Gin's relief, accepted the subject change. "He looked delicious." His hips drew slow circles against Gin's growing erection, and the younger soul reaper gasped.

"Now, remember that you promised I could have him to myself, taicho," Gin reminded Aizen casually. He wasn't about to let his sweet, innocent Izuru-chan end up in the hands of his captain. I won't let him end up like me.

Aizen's fingers tightened around Gin's neck as he whispered, "Don't tell me you care for him." His hot breath caressed Gin's ear while his other hand drew idle patterns on Gin's bare chest.

Gin shrugged fluidly. "Of course not. But he'll be a good pet if I train him right." He smirked at Aizen, pressing his hips forward. "I'm sure you understand." He looked seductively up at Aizen through lowered lashes, long practice keeping his gaze free of any untoward emotions. He's mine. And I'll protect him. The surge of defensive possessiveness surprised Gin with its intensity.

In one graceful move, Aizen spun Gin around and forced him into the railing, one hand bent in a painful lock behind his back. The older man dragged sharp nails down Gin's spine, making the silver-haired shinigami whimper. "So long as you remember that you belong to me."

Gin exhaled slowly and nodded. "I do." He knew the truth of that with every fiber of being, and despised it. But he couldn't escape it. As Aizen's reiatsu rose, caressing the bare skin on his chest lasciviously, he arched back in willing surrender to the man who owned his soul. You trained me well, taicho, he thought to himself through a fog of yearning. Even now, I'm addicted to your touch. The hunger for the older man seared fiercely through his veins, a fiery serpent that devoured rational thought.

"Hands on the railing." Aizen's cold tone brooked no disagreement. He released Gin's wrist from the lock, and the slender shinigami brought his hands to the rail he was bent over. Aizen roughly tugged Gin's hips back, forcing him to assume a wide-legged posture or fall over. He chose the former, though the vulnerability of the pose made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Aizen took a step back, and he could sense the captain's critical appraisal of his trembling body.

Gin inhaled sharply as he felt Kyoka Suigetsu's razor-sharp blade skim up his legs, slicing apart his hakama without a sound. The fabric fell off of him, leaving him naked for the world to see. He closed his eyes, shivering as the night breeze flowed around bare skin. The humiliation of being exposed like this – in his own division no less – brought a pink tinge to his skin, though he knew that Aizen had cloaked the scene in Kyoka Suigetsu's power. That knowledge didn't satisfy his instincts, though, which quickened his heartbeat and made his groin throb. Blood trickled down his thighs where Aizen's carelessness had cut into his skin. That had been deliberate; Aizen controlled Kyoka Suigetsu's trajectory to within a nanometer.

For a moment, as the weight of Aizen's regard pressed into his tense back, he wondered if the older captain was going to take him like this, with no preparation. It wouldn't be the first time.

But Aizen had other plans. The hiss and crack of a whip almost came as a relief to Gin, who yelped as Aizen laid a stinging line across his shoulders. It was better this way. Better to scream under the lash until Aizen grew bored with his pain and turned to other amusements. Better to writhe and whimper as the pain and arousal built to a shameful climax that burned with its intensity. Better than, than soft caresses and whispered words of love. Gin smirked coldly. It's not like I deserve any better. Or desire any better. Words of love are a foolish illusion for the gullible.

He cried out as the whip cracked again and burning pain shot through his buttocks. "Good," Aizen murmured in a parody of gentleness. He swung the whip again, and a third welt appeared on Gin's back. "Very good."

Gin moaned when Aizen reached out and traced the whip marks with a cool finger. The older captain's reiatsu wrapped around him in an obscene blanket of sensation, stroking here and tugging there. Gin allowed his own energy to relax from his iron grip, reaching back to the man behind him. Aizen groaned as the power touched him, and he ground his hips into Gin's bare ass. Gin bucked back against the contact, wanton moans trapped behind closed lips.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who's eager tonight," Aizen whispered as he yanked Gin's head back with a fistful of silver hair. Gin's breath stuttered as Aizen wrapped a muscular forearm around his exposed neck and squeezed. The combination of the chokehold and the heated length of Aizen's clothed erection pressed against his naked butt made him whimper feebly.

Aizen released him abruptly and shoved him back to the railing. "Did I say you could move?"

"No, taicho," Gin gasped.

He could feel the older man's cruel amusement when Aizen replied softly, "Correct." He lashed out with the whip again, tearing open a stripe on Gin's shoulder. Blood dripped down his spine. Gin cried out shamelessly, pushing his hips back towards his captain. Aizen laughed sadistically and cracked the whip once more. The blow crisscrossed the prior welt, opening another gash on Gin's bony shoulders.

More lashes followed, until Gin's back was a gory mess. He hung his head, sweat matting his hair into spiky clumps, and panted. Damn it, he cursed. Why can you always do this to me? His hands clamped around the railings hard enough to turn his knuckles white as he fought to keep from begging. Just one touch could send him over the edge. His hips moved in tiny, mindless circles, desperate for friction.

Aizen ran assessing fingers through the bloody smears on his back. Gin arched into the stinging touch, a pleading moan escaping his lips. He could hear his former captain's harsh breathing, though he didn't dare turn around to look at him. It was small consolation that the older man was as aroused as he was.

"Do you wish you could do this your Izuru-chan?" Aizen purred. "Break him, leave him covered in blood and begging for more?" He raked down Gin's back with sharp fingernails. "Or would you rather do it to your pretty Rangiku-chan?"

Gin screamed as Aizen's nails tore the gashes open wider. The soft words barely registered through the haze of agony and lust that burned through Gin's veins. He mumbled something incoherent, unable to raise his voice above a whisper. Not my Izuru-chan, he thought muzzily. He doesn't deserve this torturous blend of agony and ecstasy. The mere thought of hurting Rangiku like this would have left him shaking, if he hadn't been so high on endorphins.

Aizen wrenched his head back and ran wet fingers over Gin's cheek. "Do you have an answer?"

The foxlike shinigami opened his mouth, blinking uncertainly at the muscular captain. Aizen had removed his glasses and haori at some point, setting them to one side. The change cast sinister shadows over his sculpted face, making Gin shudder. The familiar blend of disgust and desire rose to a crescendo within him as he stared into Aizen's cold brown eyes.

Aizen chuckled as Gin searched futilely for words. "I guess not." He ran his blood-soaked fingers over Gin's lips, and Gin closed his eyes. Is this what I've come to? he wondered distantly as Aizen slid his fingers into his mouth. They tasted like iron and copper, the salty-sweet tang of blood, as he wrapped his mobile tongue around them and sucked. Aizen groaned lowly and thrust his fingers down Gin's throat. Gin gagged.

"Good," Aizen murmured. Gin lapped eagerly at the captain's slender fingers, needy whines bubbling involuntarily from his lips.

Aizen's hand closed around the back of Gin's neck, and he rocked against the younger man as Gin sucked on his fingers. The agony of the whip marks faded into nothingness as Gin's arousal built to a fever pitch. He realized he was begging, an incoherent stream of pleases and desperate moans tumbling around Aizen's fingers.

Without any warning, Aizen yanked his hand away from Gin's mouth and clamped it around his neck. Gin's head fell back as sparkles built in front of his eyes. He could feel nothing but Aizen's teasing reiatsu and the heat of his body as Aizen proved to him once again why he could never escape his former captain. Please, Gin begged in the privacy of his own mind. Please.

As suddenly as he had grabbed him, Aizen released him. Gin dropped to his knees in a graceless fall, panting for breath and trembling. Aizen chuckled, petting his hair possessively. "That's a good boy, Gin," he purred softly. "Very good." Gin shivered under Aizen's gentle touch, closing his eyes and letting the world drift away. His forehead rested against Aizen's hip as the older man stroked his head in a parody of kindness.

Then Aizen stopped the pretense. Seizing Gin's hair in a cruel grip, he yanked the younger man's head back, forcing his spine into a painful arch. The sharp movement jerked Gin back to reality. He looked up with wide eyes at the powerful captain, who nodded to him with a regal expression. Gin exhaled heavily. He knew what to do – Aizen had trained him rigorously.

Hating the man in front of him – despising himself for his eager, desperate compliance – Gin began to undo the ties of Aizen's hakama.

After Aizen finally left, Gin padded back into the darkened bedroom where Izuru slept. His back stung despite the healing kido that Aizen had applied, but the residual pain didn't bother him. Looking down at the slender blond lieutenant, he was surprised to find a slow smile spreading across his face. You're mine, pretty Izuru-chan, he told the younger shinigami silently. But I'll never treat you the way he treated me. You're far too good for that.

Gin's mouth twisted wryly. Whereas me? I deserve everything he does to me. He laughed to himself. And I wouldn't have it any other way. He sat down on the cot and ran a gentle hand over Izuru's hair. I walked into this with eyes wide open, and begged him for everything he did to me… And more.

Izuru rolled over and open his eyes sleepily. "Taicho?" he mumbled, reaching out for Gin. The silver-haired shinigami allowed himself to be pulled down into a clumsy embrace as Izuru buried his face in Gin's shoulder. Ah, Izuru, Gin thought to himself. You really don't know what you're getting yourself into. That was his favorite kind of prey – so innocent, they didn't even know when a hunter was on their trail. He smoothed his hand over Izuru's back as the blonde drifted back into sleep, reveling in the silky skin under his fingertips. You'll figure it out soon enough, he promised the sleeping soul reaper. But I can guarantee, you'll love every minute of it.