Chapter 18-19 (Two Chapters combined)

Ichigo shook his head, however.

"No," he said, "You girls need your rest. I can go take care of this somewhere else. When you're able to walk again, go over to my place. I'll meet you girls there, later."

"As you wish, master," said Rangiku. "I shall accompany mistress." She scooted herself a little closer to Orihime, smiling and wrapping her arms around the buxom young beauty.

Weakly, Orihime kissed Matsumoto on the lips.

"Feel free to take your time," she told Ichigo happily, snuggling up a little closer to the Tenth Division lieutenant.

Ichigo gave them a grin, finding himself greatly appreciating the view.

"I will," he promised, already thinking about all of the other lovely ladies he could find and play with. "You girls take care, okay?"

"Okay," purred Rangiku, nuzzling her head into her mistress's bosom.

Waving goodbye, Ichigo walked out the door.

...and a second later he came back in, still naked. Blushing sheepishly, he grabbed his clothes and threw them on.

Then he left again, this time for real.

For a moment, Ichigo pondered where he would start. There were so many lovely, available ladies just in Karakura Town, and it was a little daunting to realize how many options he had.

But, after a moment of thought, he ultimately decided to go check out the Vizard chicks. Certainly, they would probably be tougher, and have more endurance than most other girls. With any luck, they would even last long enough to take the edge off of his sexual hunger.

So, deciding he would go look for the Vizards, Ichigo set out. It did not take him long to find their hideout – the location was the same as it had been when they were training him to control his hollow powers.

So yes, finding it was easy. Getting inside, however...

"Hey! Open up already!" Ichigo shouted irritably, banging his fist on the door of the outwardly decrepit abandoned warehouse that the Vizards called home. "It's me, Ichigo!"

Despite being able to find the place without any trouble, it was nonetheless proving significantly more difficult for Ichigo to actually gain entrance. Despite the fact that he had been banging on the door for a good few minutes, nobody had answered it so far. And it was locked tight with quite a bit more than just a deadbolt or a padlock – Hachi's barrier kido were nearly unsurpassed in strength, and while Ichigo could probably blow them down if he applied enough force, he'd rather not have to do something like that.

Which was why he was instead standing outside their door and shouting for them to let him in.

"Dammit, you assholes!" Ichigo finally snapped, his patience spent. "Are you guys even home?!"

And that was right about when a sandal flew in from his blind spot and smacked him in the back of the head.

"Oy, oy," came the sound of one Hiyori Sarugaki's voice. "Who do you think yer shouting at, baldy?"

Ichigo grumbled sorely, rubbing the back of his head where Hiyori's sandal had struck.

"Watch where you throw that, you damn snaggle-tooth!" Ichigo snapped back reflexively, turning around and angrily taking the gun out of his pocket and pulling the trigger.

Hiyori's eyes widened at the sight of the device in Ichigo's hands. Her frame visibly tensed, and a second later her eyes narrowed.

The ambient spiritual pressure suddenly spiked.

Before Ichigo could fire at her, Hiyori had manifested her hollow mask, causing her reiryoku to skyrocket.

"What the hell, baldy?!" she snarled, her voice distorted by her mask. Whipping out her zanpakuto, she easily deflected the red sphere of energy he shot at her. "What are you doing with a dangerous toy like that?!"

At first, Ichigo was surprised and confused by how Hiyori had managed to defend against the gun's blast so easily, but then he growled at her words sunk in.

"Ehh?!" he said. "If it's so dangerous, then don't call it a toy, dumbass! And how the hell did you block that, anyway?"

Hiyori did not answer immediately. Instead, she leaped up into the air and shouted, "Chop cleanly, Kubikiri Orochi!" before descending upon Ichigo, the serrated teeth of her large blade – which was comparable in size to his own Zangetsu – ripping through the air towards him in a frightening blur.

Ichigo barely managed to dodge her attack, which left a sizable impact crater in the street.

"What the hell—?" he exclaimed, more than a little freaked by the genuine ferocity of her assault. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

Hiyori slowly looked up, the horn of her skeletal hollow mask accentuating the deathly glare from her color-shifted eyes.

"Yes," she snarled, raising her sword and holding it horizontally before her. "I ain't gonna let you use that thing on me without a fight."

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo skipped back a few feet away from the hollowfied Hiyori and popped Kon's gikongan into his mouth. Like a hell butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, his spiritual body burst out from the gigai, Zangetsu at his back and reiatsu soaring.

"Get my gigai somewhere safe, Kon!" he ordered the mod soul, who took one look at the bloodthirsty Vizard chick and hightailed it out of there at a speed that would have made the Goddess of Flash Yoruichi herself green with envy.

"So you're seriously gonna fight me, then..." Hiyori observed, lowering her stance, her body like a spring being compressed. "Fucking pervert."

Immediately, the energy built up in her form was released, and she sprang forth at a terrifying speed. Almost instantly she closed the distance between her and Ichigo, and she swung Kubikiri Orochi in a wide arc, her sharpened reiatsu cutting down lampposts on either side of the street.

But Ichigo was ready for her, and faster than you could blink he had drawn Zangetsu and parried her wild attack. The force of their clashing spiritual pressures tore up the cement beneath their feet, and both sides held firm.

"Tch," Hiyori muttered, arms straining futilely to try and push her wicked-looking weapon forward. "You've gotten tougher, dickhead..."

"So it's dickhead, now, is it...?" Ichigo said casually, holding Zangetsu vertically with a single hand, almost effortlessly keeping Hiyori's zanpakuto immobile.

Ostensibly, the two of them were in a stalemate, their swords locked together, but Ichigo clearly held the upper hand. At one time, Hiyori could have given him a serious run for his money like this, and he wouldn't have dared to fight her without donning his hollow mask as well. But that time was past, and he now had far exceeded her in terms of raw strength, and he was at least as skilled with handling his weapon as she was with hers. Hiyori simply could not hold a candle to him, and she knew it.

The fact of the matter was, before her hollowfication she had been a lieutenant – while her mask gave her a significant power boost, and while she grown in skill somewhat during her exile in the world of the living, Ichigo had advanced to a whole other level. Only someone at high captain level or above could hope to even have a chance of beating the substitute soul reaper. Even the Captain Commander, who had been resurrected and rejuvenated at great cost by Orihime after the war with the Quincies, would have to go all out if he wanted to fight Ichigo without getting seriously injured.

Simply put, Hiyori wasn't even in the same league as Ichigo... But then, she was a lot like him, in a way: namely that she never gave up, even when hopelessly outmatched. Additionally, she recognized the device in Ichigo's hands from her time working under Urahara, and while she didn't understand the science behind it, she remembered very clearly what the device was intended for, a joke though it had originally been.

And she had no intention of becoming anyone's sex slave... well, not without a fight, at least.

So she hopped back, abandoning the deadlock between their blades. And with a blur, she disappeared in shun-po, before reappearing behind Ichigo. Mindful of not doing too much damage to her surroundings, the petite blonde opted for a simple sword swipe rather than something more powerful, like a pointblank cero.

Ichigo did not appear to react in time, and she slammed the jagged, toothy edge of her sword into his back before he could block, and small amount blood sprayed onto her shirt.

She smirked. Ichigo was strong, and fast, but none of that mattered if she could catch him off guard...

Then her eyes widened when she saw that the teeth of her Kubikiri Orochi had somehow stopped short of breaking Ichigo's skin. Oh, it had definitely made contact, and the attack had landed at the ideal angle, but it simply had not cut his skin. She might as well have tried cutting through a steel wall for all the damage she'd done to him, the rip in his shihakusho notwithstanding. Except she could cut through steel comparatively easily, even with just her unreleased blade.

But, then, where had the blood come from...?

Looking down, she noticed the state of her hands. They were raw, cut up, and bleeding. Unbidden, a line from the texts of the shinigami academy came to mind.

In a clash between two spiritual pressures, the greater one is victorious. The greater the disparity is, the more pronounced the effects become.

Was Ichigo's reiatsu really so far above hers that even with her hollow mask she not only could not cut him, but actually hurt herself just by trying?

"Ah, thanks," Ichigo said, breaking up Hiyori's internal monologue as he leaned slightly into the edge of her blade. "That itch in my back was driving me crazy, but I couldn't reach it."

He then stepped forward and turned around, raising Zangetsu aloft, the sunlight glinting upon its tip. He grinned at Hiyori, the very slightest hint of animalistic glee in his curled lips and bared teeth.

"But unless you're thinking of surrendering already," Ichigo continued conversationally, "we should probably get back to the fight."

He then swung Zangetsu down, and the street was instantly split straight down the middle for a distance of at least three city blocks by a flawlessly straight, deeply gouged crevice.

Hiyori could not hold back the audible squeak that escaped from her throat at the sight of the cleanly cleaved gash in the cement. This was crazy... he could really do something like that just by swinging his sword?!

For a moment, she wondered if maybe it wouldn't be better just to give in now before she could get seriously hurt. But she quickly beat this thought back down. She wasn't going to give up without a fight. If Ichigo was tough enough to take her down, then he wasn't worth the hassle of getting involved with. She respected strength more than anything else.

Gritting her teeth, Hiyori let loose a bestial howl. Spiritual power rushed through her body, her irises gleaming with a menacing golden light behind her mask.

The air, stirred up by the sudden torrential flow of reiatsu, whirled about her sword and body and limbs. The loose fabric of her red jogging suit flapped and fluttered in the cyclonic winds, and her white, blood-stained shirt was pressed against the slender curves of her small bust.

She would not give up so easily!

Leaning forward, Hiyori shot a quickly charged cero from her mouth, the beam razing many of the nearby empty warehouses.

The Vizard hideout, luckily enough, was in the other direction from where she'd aimed, but she knew it would be best to finish this quickly, one way or another. The authorities would no doubt come running to the site of the explosion soon enough, and even if they couldn't see her or the others, it would still be a pain in the ass to put up with the inevitable commotion.

Dashing forward, she loosed her blade in an overhead swing, concentrating her full spiritual power into the teeth of the edge in hopes of successfully cutting Ichigo.

It was not to be that easy, however, as Ichigo swung Zangetsu with a single hand, an inscrutable expression on his face. Like cutting through warm butter, he sliced Kubikiri Orochi in half down the blade, easily splitting off its cutting edge.

Hiyori's eyes were wide as she looked at what remained of her zanpakuto. Then she felt something warm run down the bridge of her nose, and she realized that her mask had also been cut.

She snarled, raising a hand to the cut in her mask. "You motherfucking bastard son of a bitch..." she growled, her voice dangerously low. "You cut my face...This better not scar, dickhead!" she roared, firing another, larger cero at Ichigo.

"Ah," Ichigo said, eying the oncoming beam unconcernedly. Almost lazily brandishing Zangetsu, he swung and split the cero in half. Then he vanished.

"Sorry about that," he continued, reappearing before her an instant later. "Orihime should be able to fix it up no problem, though."

He then swung again, this time across Hiyori's torso. Zangetsu tore the front of her shirt into shreds with a controlled blast of energy along the edge, baring her small, perky tits even as fair amount blood sprayed from a diagonal cut across her chest. A suppressed, savage part of him found the sight beautiful, and was aroused seeing Hiyori's small, delicate-seeming frame stained with flowing crimson.

And it was actually a bit surprising, to Ichigo, how much blood was pouring from Hiyori's wound. He had carefully, intuitively measured and determined the necessary force and angle to get the best results the instant he'd attacked, and he'd been extremely careful not to do any serious damage – a very big part of being as powerful as he was now was knowing how to reign that power in, and he had been progressing in that by leaps and bounds the last few weeks.

Still, a second, closer look reassured him that despite the amount of blood, the wound itself was superficial, the cut shallow.

Glancing up at Hiyori's face, Ichigo saw that her hollow mask had dissipated, and also that there was now a diagonal cut across her nose from which blood was also trickling, though in much smaller amounts. The red fluid was streaked and smeared all over her body, and she was lying down limply, looking up at him weakly.

"Shit..." she hissed, looking into his eyes and seeing compassion as well as desire. "This is really happening..."

She sighed, spreading her arms. "Well...?" she said, trying to sound irritable even though her voice was weak. "Get it over with... and hypnotize me... baldy."

Ichigo was silent, but he nodded. Taking out the gun and holding it up, he looked it over thoughtfully, occasional glancing back at Hiyori, an indiscernible look in his eyes. After a few moments of this, he briefly fiddled with the settings on the gun, before taking aim and firing.

The red ball of light shot out of the barrel and washed over Hiyori's bare breasts. When the light faded, a moment later, she blinked. Weakly, she reached a hand up and absently scratched at the spot where the light had hit her, though she was mindful of the cut across her chest.

"... did it work...?" she muttered, confused. "...I don't feel any different..." She looked up at Ichigo and glared at him. "Are you sure you did that right, baldy?" she rasped condescendingly despite her position.

Ichigo smirked wickedly. "I don't know," he said pleasantly. "But let's find out."

He took out his member, which was perversely erect at the sight of the bloodied up Vizard lying on the ground before him, and grasped it in one hand.

"Take off your pants," he commanded her.

Hiyori's face reddened, and she glared death at him.

"No way in hell, dickhead!" she snarled.

But then she noticed that her hands were moving, seemingly of their own accord. And it was with dawning horror that she watched them unbutton her trousers and slide them down in spite of all her attempts to make them stop. Once her pants were off, revealing her smooth but skinny legs and small, cutesy pink cotton panties.

Ichigo stepped closer, casually jerking himself off to the expression on Hiyori's face. Her cheeks were red with more than just blood, and there were tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

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