Trepadora Y Pantera

Grimmjow Jaggerjack stalked silently through the halls of Las Noches, his hands balled into fists at his side as he made his way from his quarters to one of the many common rooms used by the Numeros when they had nothing better to be doing that sitting about. Shawlong, the 11th Numeros and Grimmjow’s most trusted Fraccion, had just reported to him that a newcomer, some kid named Luppi, was talking shit behind his back. That wasn’t something Grimmjow was going to take lying down. When he silently rounded the corner into the room, he saw the back of a rather short boy, his Arrancar uniform loose and baggy over his short frame; the sleeves of the upper portion slipped down well past his hands, and the sides of the uniform were cut out, revealing the boy’s slight hips and scrawny sides.

“-and the blue-haired bastard has all the personality of the dirt Las Noches is made of!” the small loud mouth had just finished ranting, causing Grimmjow to snarl. The kid was too busy laughing his own little head off to feel the suppressed reiatsu of the Espada he mocked walking up behind him, but the Numeros chuckling at him weren’t so blind; as soon as the steely-eyed Espada slipped into the room, they had immediately shut up and began sidling out.

“Hey, where’s everybody going?” The little one cried out suddenly, the mirth gone from his voice as his hands immediately moved to his hips, his legs cocking slightly to give him an odd stance. ‘This girly little shit is mocking me?’ Grimmjow thought, his scowl growing in size. Luppi didn’t turn around until he felt the large hand clamp down on the top of his head.

“No personality, huh? Sorry you think so.” He hissed loudly, fingers digging into Luppi’s scalp and making the smaller Arrancar squeal in pain; apparently, he wasn’t one for a hurting.

“G-get your hand off me, Jaggerjack! You’ve got no right to-“ He was silenced by Grimmjow’s left knee flying up to connect with his left side none too gently, knocking the wind out of the little punk.

“No right to what, you little fuck? To teach you to show some respect?” Growling, Grimmjow’s powerful right arm hefted Luppi into the air, sending him flying toward the wall farthest from them. The almost-newborn had only just hit the wall before Grimmjow had pinned him to it, his left hand squeezing Luppi’s throat while simultaneously holding him to eye level with the neon-haired Espada, a good foot off the ground.

“L-let go… me… can’t b-breathe…” Grimmjow’s right fist drove into his stomach, knocking the wind out of the little bastard as his left hand let go just enough to let the boy get his wind back… but not immediately. Luppi would not interrupt him again for a good minute.

“If you can bitch, you can breathe. Speaking of being a bitch…” Grimmjow leaned back a bit, looking Luppi over again, this time from the front. Luppi’s weak hands were trying to claw Grimmjow’s own off of his throat, to no avail; it may have been more effective if the sleeves weren’t still covering them. The holes at Luppi’s hips were sagging, allowing Grimmjow a slight view of the younger Arrancar’s slightly protruding pelvic bone; the boy needed to eat more meat.

“Don’t you look like a little whore? Why’d Aizen let you live, I wonder? Maybe he took a little somethin’ somethin’ for his trouble, eh?” When Grimmjow’s hand suddenly groped Luppi’s crotch, what small amount of air the little Arrancar had gathered immediately left him as shocked fright registered on his face, his wide eyes staring at Grimmjow’s wicked smirk in utter horror. He was starting to think he’d insulted the wrong Espada.

“S-strangle h-h-him… t-t-to…d-d-dea-” Luppi’s air was suddenly choked off once again, Grimmjow growling heavily and leaning in close to his face. Small tears welled up in the Arrancar’s eyes as his hands scrabbled against the stronger soldier’s wrist as he gasped and panted for air, not getting what he wanted.

“Trying to release? On an Espada, no less? Bad call, slut.” Still choking Luppi, a dark coincidence, considering the other’s release command, Grimmjow turned and began carrying the little tool toward the last place Luppi would ever wish to be: Grimmjow Jaggerjack’s personal quarters.

As he traversed the hallways, Grimmjow held the back of Luppi’s head against the walls, dragging the other’s skull against the rough surface with enough force to make it hurt, but not bleed. They passed few Arrancar, but those they did pass chuckled darkly at Luppi’s predicament; none envied him, and there was currently a wager going out to see how long it would be before Luppi’s death cries echoed throughout Las Noches.

When Grimmjow kicked open the door to his room, the first thing he did was rip away Luppi’s hopes in the form of his sword; Grimmjow tossed Luppi away, Trepadora tight in his right hand. When Luppi hit the floor, gripping his own throat and choking for breath, Grimmjow drew the blade and stabbed it into the ground, sinking the blade half its length into the ground; it wasn’t going to budge. Luppi stared in fright as Grimmjow began striding towards him, the small figure scrambling against the wall at his back, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible; sadly, it wasn’t possible.

“You owe me, Luppi. I don’t take well to insults. You’re gonna pay for them… and there’s no money in Hueco Mundo.” His left hand again gripped Luppi’s hair, hoisting the whimpering Arrancar to his feet, small tears starting to roll down his cheeks from the pain; how could Aizen have created such a damn wimpy tool?

“Don’t you dare, Jaggerjack… Aizen won’t-“ He was again cut off, this time with a sharp back-handed slap from Grimmjow’s right hand. This time, he couldn’t help himself from crying out, the coppery taste of his own blood starting to fill his mouth.

“Aizen won’t do shit. You’re no Espada, you’re not protected, so you belong to me.” Again, shock registered with Luppi, not because of the truth of Grimmjow’s statement, or because of the returning pain in his head; it was because his lips were suddenly crushed by the force of Grimmjow’s unexpected kiss, the larger Arrancar’s tongue violating Luppi’s mouth, tasting the bitter blood of his little slave. Luppi didn’t know what stopped him from biting his assailant; though he didn’t want to admit it, he was afraid of what may happen to him should he act so harshly. Perhaps things wouldn’t be so hard on him if he only cooperated…

What Luppi didn’t take into account, however, was exactly who it was that he was in the harsh grip of. Grimmjow gave less mercy than any other Espada, and his Fraccion were some of the most powerful for it. It wouldn’t matter to him whether Luppi did exactly as commanded or began firing Cero blasts at every opportunity; he was not going to make this easy on the foolish Arrancar. As he broke the kiss, Grimmjow again seized Luppi’s crotch, snarling sardonically at his captive.

“You are a little slut; you’re getting off on this, you whore.” Luppi gasped in his ragged breath, a blush creeping down his cheeks; he didn’t appreciate the name-calling, but knew voicing his opinion would only make the situation worse. Grimmjow’s rough handling didn’t help, either, and he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. He might cooperate, but he wouldn’t give the bastard that satisfaction. The hand left his groin and clamped down on his jaw, and this time he did cry out, this time in pain.

“Done crying, bitch? Shame. I was hoping to find out if your make-up ran.” Luppi did want to growl at that; he may care for his looks, but he did not wear make-up! Before he could make a come back, he quivered as Grimmjow’s tongue slid up his left cheek, following the trail of a tear that hadn’t yet dried out; as the tongue rolled over his eye, Luppi shivered, realizing all too suddenly that he was utterly at Grimmjow’s whim.

“W-why are you-“ The right hand again, not back-handed this time, caught his left cheek, making him again cry out and causing it to bruise, just as the other had. Again, blood filled his mouth as he glared defiantly into Grimmjow’s snarling face.

“Shut the fuck up. No little slut’s gonna ask me any questions, got it?” Luppi knew his voice would crack if he spoke, again giving Grimmjow what he wanted; he gave a curt nod instead, glaring at his blue-haired captor. This, however, wasn’t the right answer. Instead of hit him, Grimmjow snarled as he took hold of Luppi’s most sensitive parts, squeezing with a force that nobody could ever find comfortable; this time, Luppi did scream.

“When I ask you a fucking question, you speak up. Now, do you understand?”

“YES! Yes, I understand!” His dangling legs tried to apply pressure to Grimmjow’s arms, tried to relieve the pain on his groin, but there just wasn’t anything he could do; again, he was at Grimmjow’s mercy, and like a kind master, Grimmjow loosened his hold.

“Good. You just might make an obedient little slut yet.” Smirking, Grimmjow again collected a tear on his tongue; he didn’t care about how much it may hurt to drag his tongue over Luppi’s fresh bruise, and roughly, so long as he got to hear the little whimper and tasted the salty water. Being a bastard could be so much fun.

He savored the sound of Luppi’s next whimper, his right hand slipping into the hole at Luppi’s left side, coarse fingers slowly exploring Luppi’s back. Grimmjow laughed out loud when he felt the edges of Luppi’s Hollow Hole; it hadn’t moved at all from it’s position on his chest from when he had been an average Hollow, something like a slap in the face from nature.

“Now, how ‘bout I get a feel for what you’ve got, eh?” Smirking his evil smirk, his rough hand slid it’s way south. When he grabbed Luppi’s ass, the small figure cried out again, arching his back and renewing his wriggling, trying to break free from Grimmjow, to no avail.

Luppi’s skin was soft, and Grimmjow almost shivered at its feel, his hand squeezing and kneading, getting a good feel for his new pet. It was uncommon to feel such skin in the harsh deserts of Hueco Mundo, so it was largely unlikely the boy had yet taken any time at all to leave Las Noches. Grinning, Grimmjow slowly withdrew his hand from Luppi’s clothes, making the sniveling Arrancar calm down slightly.

“Well shit, you’re gonna feel real good, you know that? I’m gonna enjoy this.” His left hand suddenly released Luppi’s throat, letting the boy drop. When he hit the ground, Grimmjow spun him around and gripped both his arms at the wrists, collecting them both into his left hand before rummaging through a knapsack sitting on the ground, along side a good many other small knick-knacks, bags, sword-cleaning utensils, and all sorts of other items, making the floor a great mess. With his temporary reprieve, Luppi was able to do nothing but look at the room he now stood in; it was incredibly large, and the paint on the walls was the shade of green one would expect tropical trees to be. The hard dirt, packed down to be has hard has linoleum, was a naturally dark earthy hue. Before he could examine the room more, Luppi felt the cold solidity of steel on his wrists, the loud ‘snap’ of a small lock being done, and the sudden loss of his reiatsu.

“Little gift I got from Szayel; he says it’s like what them Shinigami use to make it so you can’t use your spirit energy. Whaddya say, bitch; does it work?” Cold fear gripped Luppi’s stomach; this meant Grimmjow could use both of his arms without needing to restrain him, and if he couldn’t access his powers, he was even less of a threat than before. Luppi was, as they say, up shit creek without a paddle. Luppi suddenly felt Grimmjow press himself against the small body of his captive, his hands sliding through the holes in Luppi’s clothing; his left hand traveled up to the little man’s chest, slowly rubbing and pinching his nipples, while his right hand traveled downward; Luppi moaned heavily as Grimmjow began slowly rubbing his crotch, squeezing slowly. Luppi jumped slightly when he felt Grimmjow softly bite his ear, the larger Arrancar’s tongue slowly traversing the rim of his lobe.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Shame for you, you ain’t gonna be feeling like this much longer, eh?” With an evil grin, Grimmjow suddenly released Luppi, garnering a loud whimper at the loss of touch, before suddenly tearing his arms from the cloth of Luppi’s clothes. The single piece suit was torn to shreds in Grimmjow’s hands, Luppi wincing constantly at the loud tearing of his clothes. Before long, the only things covering him were the ankles and sleeves of the uniform, along with the handcuffs on his wrists; Grimmjow pushed him forward a step, allowing him to get a very good look at Luppi’s back.

“Oh yeah, making you scream is gonna be fun. Turn around, I want to see the rest of you.” Blushing, Luppi did turn, at a slow pace. His head was turned downward, his eyes were clenched shut; he knew his small body was in no way at all comparable to Grimmjow’s, and just as he expected, derivative laughter followed soon after.

“You look just like a little slut; there’s no way Aizen made you for fighting.” Luppi felt Grimmjow’s hand grip his chin and tilt his head upward; Grimmjow looked him over briefly, at the small triple-diamond tattoo above his left eye, at the hair-comb shaped mandible of his old Hollow mask. He just looked too… cute.

Snarling at the sudden thought, Grimmjow growled and seized Luppi’s head again, this time throwing the small Arrancar behind him to land face-down on the extraordinarily large bed Grimmjow had, his hands moving down to begin undoing his own pants; he grinned, watching Luppi scramble to turn over, to try and be able to see what was happening. Helpless, that was the look Grimmjow preferred to see on his toys. Before Luppi could flip over, he felt the heavy weight of Grimmjow press down on him, the other’s hand pressing down between his shoulders, keeping Luppi’s face buried in the sheets. The right hand moved down to grip Luppi’s crotch for the forth time, lifting him up so that the younger Arrancar’s knees were beneath him, keeping his back end in the air.

“Now, this is going to hurt; I expect you to scream, actually, so don’t be expecting me to go all soft and easy on you. Just thought to let you know.” Luppi would have cried out a retort, but he bit it back very quickly; he felt something big and hot press against his entrance, felt Grimmjow’s hands resting on his small girlish hips, the force keeping him face-down on the bed. He would have yelled out a protest, but white-hot pain shot all throughout his body; Grimmjow had entered him, and had thrust into him as far as he could in one go. While Grimmjow shivered and sighed in delight, Luppi screamed out bloody murder; pain had never felt so damn good.

Before he could grow accustomed to the feeling of Grimmjow’s heat inside him, Grimmjow pulled out to his tip before driving back home, growling as he did, starting to repeat the pattern and pick up the pace; no matter how much Luppi tried to calm himself, he couldn’t bring himself to simply accept the fact that he was being raped. He screamed and thrashed, trying to fight back; all he did was give Grimmjow the satisfaction of knowing he was getting what he wanted without permission, and was causing Luppi to tighten considerably.

Grimmjow practically howled at the pleasure of his hips smashing into Luppi’s, his length burying itself in the depths of the loudmouth. Luppi was crying generously as he yelled and screamed, his arms bound behind him, his face crushed in the sheets of the bed… and his insides on fire as Grimmjow took him, giving him pleasure no matter how much Luppi didn’t want it. When Grimmjow’s thrusting became more violent, if that was possible, and more urgent, Luppi cringed in fear; he knew what happened next. With a final thrust, Grimmjow gave an animalistic scream, releasing himself deep inside the writhing and crying Luppi. And for god’s sake, it wouldn’t stop! It felt like an eternity before the heat finally stopped spreading throughout Luppi’s body, before Grimmjow finally stopped moving atop him, before his tears finally quit falling.

Without a word, Grimmjow slipped out of the little Arrancar beneath him, Luppi giving a loud groan as he did; the smaller Arrancar, in turn, fell onto his side, out of breath and, frankly, wishing he were dead. He felt used, small, and dirty, and wanted nothing more than to escape this hell for sleep. That, it seemed, was not in his immediate future. He heard a loud snap, and the handcuffs fell off of his wrists. Before he could rub his wrists, Grimmjow had seized his hair again, and was pulling him off of the bed and across the room; Luppi was screaming again, still naked, still hard, still dripping Grimmjow from his lower regions. Grimmjow, it seemed, had taken the time to put on a new pair of pants. When they reached the door, Grimmjow lifted Luppi to his feet.

“Listen up, whore, because here’s how things are going to go down. You’ll be here again, and it’ll be tomorrow. You’ll knock on my door, and before I open it up, you’d damn well better be on your knees, and when I open it, you’re gonna say, ‘Please, Master, show me again just what kinda bitch I am’. And you’ll do it the next night, and the night after, and so on, ‘til I get bored with you. You won’t do it because you want to, you won’t do it because I make you feel good, or pretty. You’ll do it because your King commands it. Understand me?” His voice was cold and harsh in Luppi’s ear, his fingers were digging into flesh, and tears were welling up again in Luppi’s eyes; what had he done to deserve this? He couldn’t even remember anymore.

“M-my K-k-king?”

“That’s right, your King. Me. Got that?” Luppi sniffled slightly, biting his lip and nodding. When Grimmjow’s other hand gripped his jaw and began squeezing, he screamed out.

“Yes! Yes, I understand! I’ll be back here tomorrow, and on and on, until you tell me otherwise!” Grimmjow released him when he said it, then growled as he wrenched open the door to his quarters. Without considering how hard Luppi might hit the opposite wall, he threw the smaller Arrancar across the hallway, his naked frame crashing against he wall and curling up on the floor, tears flowing freely now. When the door didn’t close, Luppi looked up to where his ‘King’ stood; he saw a flash of silver light, and Trepadora implanted itself in the wall only inches above him, quivering from the force of the throw. Grimmjow’s door slammed shut, and Luppi couldn’t stop the strangled cry from escaping his throat.

Slowly and shakily, half an hour later, Luppi got to his feet, took his sword in his hands, and began dragging himself to his quarters, half of Las Noches away. He heard the snickers and the laughs at his broken, naked, used body, and he knew everybody knew Grimmjow had fucked him, and hard, but he didn’t care; he wanted to either sleep or die. The worst part was, no matter how much he hated Grimmjow, he knew the Espada was right; Luppi would be back, and be back promptly. He would beg and cry for Grimmjow to, again, use him like the little slut he was. And he would do it, not only because his ‘King’ had told him to, but also because finally, for the first time in hundreds of years, Luppi finally felt recognized as something.