Chapter 1 - Shining Bright for Everyone

All characters depicted are eighteen years of age or older. 

I think Yushiro is, canonically, like fifty or something? Shinigami age super slow and live super long.

- - - - - - -

Yoruichi let out a sigh as she stepped into the training room of the Shihouin manor and failed to see her brother waiting for her. With a shrug of her shoulders, she slipped off the bright orange jacket she habitually wore, reaching up to slowly unwind her scarf as she glanced around the room, eyebrow raised. The experienced and legendary commander had begun training her brother in earnest, drilling him in the form their family was famous for. Training him up from the basic level rather than trying to build on the rather haphazard training he’d had so far. He’d taken to it well, no surprise given his already impressive skill, but the more mundane aspects seemed to bore him. Kido came naturally to him, but his sister was finding it difficult to get him to take the more physical aspects seriously. 

And there was still the problem with his impulsiveness...

“Yoruichi!”

Across the hall from the training room, a door slammed open and her brother came catapulting out, uncoiling like a spring as he tried to wrap his arms around Yoruichi. Yushiro was shorter than his sister, with the same dark skin and hair so black the highlights seemed nearly purple. His face was split in a wild, mischievous grin, even as his sister dodged aside from his headlong rush, the momentum carrying him to the floor in a tangle. He was up in a moment, bouncing to his feet like a ball with a laugh. He was dressed in loose clothing, his pants baggy and ill-fitting for easy movement, in stark contrast to Yoruichi’s own training clothes

The elder Shihoin’s training outfit was meant for quick, lithe motion and offered no tactical aid to an enemy. Her leotard clung to her body like a second skin, offering nothing to seize or grab in a close-quarters fight. And there was something terribly distracting about it, at least to the young boy. It rose all the way up to her neck, a high collar holding it securely in place and offering not even a glimpse of cleavage. But somehow, despite technically covering her completely, it seemed more revealing than any amount of bare flesh. It hugged her curves, highlighting them, lifting soft flesh, and seeming to offer it up. Yushiro could make out the faint lines of her abdominals beneath the clinging fabric, and the soft bumps where her nipples teased at the material.

“I’ll get you one of these days,” Yushiro laughed, his voice light even as he tried to ignore just how *tight* her training outfit was. 

“Will that be after I go deaf from all your shouting? Or will you need me to go blind, first?” the elder shinigami teased.

“Just you wait!”

Anything else he might have said was swallowed up by a quiet -ggrk- as his sister turned her back on him, dismissing him as she started stretching, and he had to flick his eyes away. But there was no safe place to look, the long gloves she wore seemed to draw his eye back to her body, and the stocking she wore did the same, his gaze sliding up her well-formed legs to fasten onto the bounty of her ass. Even as he watched she bent forward, stretching her hamstrings out and thrusting that glorious ass into the air. Her leotard vanished between soft globes that jiggled with each movement she made. Poor Yushiro's shameful interest in his own sister had been getting worse over the past few months. What his eyes had once noticed with disinterest, his body was now beginning to focus on, his thoughts clouding slightly as he found himself distracted and staring.

“So when are we going to get to the interesting stuff?” he asked, not bothering to stretch or warm-up as his sister did. Just another tiny way he seemed to ignore the physical aspect of his training. “I know how to punch someone and I know how to kick people, when can we get to the actually useful stuff? I want to learn more Kido!”

“You know how to punch badly,” Yoruichi corrected. “You’re not ready for more, not even close. You don’t take the foundation of our art seriously, all the spiritual pressure in the world won’t help you if you can’t properly bring it to bear in a fight. " 

"But I'm stronger than I was! I'm ready!"

"Oh, sure. You're waaaaaaaaay stronger," she taunted, putting extra emphasis on the words so even her dear brother couldn't miss the sarcasm they dripped with. "But that's a relative measure, little brother. A cat is far stronger than a rat, but that doesn't mean I can teach it to improve its skill in Hoho.”

Her brother actually stomped his foot in anger, as she laughed at him, his face flushed. 

"At least give me a chance to prove myself!"

"You already have, little brother. You need self-control to master the ‘boring stuff’, as you put it. And you've shown me just how much self-control you have from the moment I came into the room."

Looking down, Yushiro felt his face settle into a burning flush as the dual meaning of his sister's words sank in. During their argument, his eyes had begun to wander as they went over familiar ground, and apparently, they’d settled without his knowledge on the full curves of his sister’s ass. For the last however many minutes he’d been staring, as if entranced, as she stretched and prepared, and his body, young and eager, had reacted. His loose pants were tented, his cock straining the baggy fabric even as he let out a yelp and stammered an apology. 

"I have seen new shinigami who had more control of themselves than you," Yoruichi laughed. “How can you claim to have mastered the physical training you need, when you can’t even control your body's most basic reactions?”

He glanced down, and Yoruichi took advantage, darting in fast and low. Still distracted by trying to hide his arousal, Yushiro couldn't get a block up in time as his sister moved to drive her lesson home, one hand busy wrestling with his cock as the other flew up in a vain effort to fend her off. Soft, strong arms wrapped around him, and for a moment his heart jerked in his chest, any thought of resisting or fighting back dashed from his head as his sister's body pressed against him, sensual as any embrace. And then she was using her grip to swing around him like he was a dancer's pole, using the speed and momentum to lift the boy off his feet and send him sailing across the room.

He hit the ground hard, rolling along the mats. He saw a glimpse of movement and continued the roll, scrambling backward as his sister's foot slammed into the mat where his head had been. He kept moving back, trying to gain his feet as Yoruichi kicked out at him, lashing out with a flurry of blows that the young boy could barely block or dodge. It was only a desperate dive between her legs, that still earned him a bruised rib,  which gave him enough time to gain his feet, panting for breath as his sister spun gracefully and came at him like a panther. 

He tried to fall back on Hoho, on the defensive footwork his sister had honed into an art, but there was no time, no opening to transition from desperate defense to skilled response. She was staying on top of him, her body brushing against his as she lashed out with knees and elbows, brutal close-in blows that left Yushiro gasping, winded, and in pain. But every time he tried to marshal an attack, every time he tried to gather his wits, he felt the brush of his sister's soft body against his, or his eyes caught the bounce and sway of her thick, plush ass, and all his plans fell to pieces.

"Watch my arms, not my ass," Yoruichi chided, driving a vicious blow at her brother's stomach, only to stop it a bare inch from impact and instead letting her fingers trail teasingly along the swell of his cock. Just proving how in control she was of the fight, how little there was he could do. "Or this will be how our family dies: staring dumbly at a woman's ass as she drives her zanpakuto through your chest."

She started to pivot, spinning on the ball of her foot to lash out with a kick, when Yushiro flung himself at his sister with a frustrated cry. It wasn’t any sort of move she would have taught, but it was so sudden and clumsy it caught her off guard, the boy crashing into the small of her back like an out-of-control car. The master swordsman fears the amateur, for no one, not even the amateur himself, knows what he'll do next. It was such a childish and desperate attack that it bowled took her by surprise and bowled Yoruichi over, driving her to the floor with her brother on top of her, riding her body to the floor as he scrambled for purchase, seeking to pin her, to score some kind of point in this humiliatingly one-sided combat.

He had her on the ground, and his shout of triumph turned into a little yelp. His sister was face down beneath him, and he could feel her struggling. He had one hand coming up under her armpit, the other locked across her neck and clasping own his wrist tightly. He could feel her weight on his arms, feel the softness of her breasts as they squished against the floor and his arm. But that was nothing compared to the softness of her ass as it bucked up against his hips, her thick cheeks rubbing against him as she sought to throw him off. His face burned as he held his sister, it wasn't a real hold, and he struggled to get leverage, his motions panicked and doing little more than grinding himself hard against her body. His hips seeking the soft cushion of her ass and pressing into it, making her feel the aching hardness in his baggy training clothes.

There was a jerk as she started to twist free, and his legs awkwardly wrapped around hers, hooking his feet beneath her shins and locking her down as they moved together on the floor. Almost sensuous movements that seemed more in line with lovers than combatants. He held her tight, and it was one of the most shameful and wonderful things he’d ever felt as his sister twisted and writhed beneath him, her face more amused than angry even as he lost control of his hips for a moment and rolled his hips openly against her. 

“I didn't know this was the kind of training you wanted, Yushiro," his sister purred beneath him. He felt her back arch, a more deliberate motion than her earlier struggling, and then his cock was being swallowed up by the softness of her ass, trapped between the two warm and welcoming pillows as she ground and worked herself against him, responding to his pressing attentions. The young boy groaned, his hands tightening out of some reflexive instinct he hadn't known he had. Clutching his sister all the tighter as she pushed up against him, his mind fogging as a whimper slipped from his mouth. And then he was being thrown through the air as Yoruichi used her new position to spin out of his grip and, in a single fluid motion, kicked him off of her. 

Twisting in midair, the boy managed to land on his feet, staggering back to slam his shoulders into the wall of the sparring room. Before he could push off, he found himself pinned there, such easy prey that his sister felt the need to flaunt. One long, dark leg slammed into the wall next to his head, the elder Shihouin leaning in as she trapped her brother. He managed to keep his gaze on hers for nearly a full second before his eyes darted down, taking in the way her pose seemed to stretch her leotard, the fabric taut across her plush mound. The bulge of his cock, straining in his pants, was less than an inch away from her, so close he could roll his hips and feel himself press against her softness.

"Is this the only thing that’s important to you?" She drew a hand along her hip, Yushiro’s eyes following the motion despite himself - and he groaned softly as she gave her rump a soft little spank, the sound of flesh on flesh making his cock flex.

"Is that all that motivates you? A chance to see your big sister naked in front of you? To watch me peel this leotard off, inch by inch, so you could drool over my body? Is that what I need to promise you to make you take this seriously?" 

Yoruichi hooked a finger at the collar of her leotard, slowly stretching it out and giving her brother a peek down the front of her outfit. Letting him glimpse the mountainous canyon of her cleavage for a moment before she let the stretchy fabric snap back into place. Her brother’s face was burning, head pounding in time with his cock as he stammered and stuttered, all his words failing him as the elder Shihouin laughed into her hand.

“I could strip for you if you win,” she promised, her voice teasing and hot as she leaned back in, flexible as a cat, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. “If you can pin me, or defeat me, or even just manage to get me on the ground we could make it happen. I’ll even teach you in the nude from now on, and I bet you’d like that.” 

“That’s not - I don’t,” Yushiro stammered, his face burning as his sister dipped her hips, very nearly rubbing herself along his straining, aching cock. Then he let out a growl, too embarrassed and frustrated to even speak as he shoved off the wall, taking his sister with him to the ground for the second time that day. He’d show her how much he’d learned! A-and not just because he wanted to see her strip! 

The two hit the ground, and this time Yushiro actually remembered his training, working to force her into a judo hold. Hakuda drew a lot from the ancient and mortal martial arts, and his sister insisted that learning these building blocks was important to being able to master Hakuda. And so he tried to prove he’d paid attention to those boring lessons that had seemed so pointless. 

“Going for an ushiro kesa gamate?” Yoruichi laughed as he slung a leg up over her head and tried to twist. If properly executed, it would have put the older Shihouin on her face, with her brother’s leg around her neck, her arms pinned. And, for a moment, he got her in the position, his crotch grinding against her shoulder as he stared down at her body. Her leotard was twisted up, swallowed up, and showing off the full ripe curve of her ass. Yushiro felt her jerk beneath him, saw the motion send ripples through those perfect, fat globes even as it ground her all the harder against his achingly, painfully, shamefully hard cock.

And then she was escaping as he was distracted, the momentary enjoyment evaporating as his sister broke the hold, and the young boy found himself flung off her back and slammed hard onto the mats. Stars swam across his eyes and he blinked blearily, trying to get them to focus as he stared up at the ceiling. And then his sister was dropping onto him, elbow driving into his stomach, fist catapulting up to smash into his jaw. He wasn’t even able to resist as she wrapped him up in a kese gamate, pinning him to the floor. 

“It might have worked, if you hadn’t been distracted,” she chided, keeping the hold tight as Yushiro thrashed and tried to break free. To no avail, he may as well have been wrapped up in chains, his sister’s grip precise and unyielding. “And why were you distracted?”

Yushiro’s face burned and he thrashed even more, desperate to continue the fight or at least force his sister to stop talking. He was so embarrassed as she spoke, like a teacher giving a lecture to a class, no hint of effort or difficulty in her voice. 

“I can think of two reasons,” she practically purred, her voice low and husky. “Two big, soft, and bouncy reasons. Is that why you screwed up your hold? Because you were too busy focusing on something soft instead of where your hands were supposed to go?”

Her grip tightened, and Yushiro gasped as pain rolled through him, his sister’s grip like merciless, crushing iron, and the pain drove the breath from his lungs. And even as the pain hit him, the softness of her breasts pressed against him, his flailing hands desperately grabbing at her to try and force her off of him - and succeeding only in latching onto the softness of her ass, fingers pressing into the warm, yielding flesh as Yushiro choked.

“Mmmm, or maybe you were thinking about where you’d much rather have your hands be,” Yoruichi continued, and Yushiro couldn’t even look at her face as he flushed, hands releasing her with a sudden jerk. 

“I’m not trying to be mean, Yushiro,” she said, her voice growing serious and almost a little sad. “But I have to be hard on you sometimes because the future of our entire clan rests upon your shoulders. And you can’t endanger what remains of our family just because you’re thinking with the wrong head!”

With a final squeeze that made the young man cry out, she released him and rolled to her feet in a single, fluid motion that left her body bouncing. Even flat on his back, gasping with pain, he couldn’t help but notice her plush rump seemed to clap as she stood, she seemed to notice the direction of his gaze and gave her hips a little shake as he stared. If her words hurt, it was only because she was right, of course. Yushiro adored his sister, and her words were the wisdom he needed to live by, she was older and wiser and stronger than he was, and listening to her just made sense. But sometimes she made it so hard, he wasn’t trying to get distracted! It was just that every part of her body was built to distract. From her sculpted abs to her long, strong legs, to her ripe curves, she was the prime example of femininity. Grace, strength, and beauty all rolled together into the perfect package. An example of what a member of the Shihouin clan could - and should - be. An example he’d worked so hard his entire life to emulate.

“Yes, sister,” he said instead, too frustrated to articulate anything else, and unwilling to speak poorly and risk insulting her. Even in private he respected her far too much to hurl petty insults at her feet. 

“Now, I have an adult’s work to get to,” she told him, flashing him a reassuring smile as she reached down to clasp his hand and haul Yushiro to his feet. If she saw the flush of anger and frustration that crossed his face or felt his grip tighten on her hand, she didn’t show it.  “I want you to run drills with the guards while I am gone. Focus on basic judo holds since you apparently need the practice. I can’t carry you into the more advanced Hakuda techniques until you’ve proven you can master the foundations upon which they are built.”

“Or I could help,” Yushido said, unable to contain himself any longer. His sister was at the door, pulling on her jacket and not even looking at him as she spoke, already dismissing him from her mind. As if he was a chore she had to deal with rather than a brother she loved. “I -”

"Could help like you did against Askin?" his sister said asked, her voice as cold and serious as he’d ever heard it. Anger flared in his chest, an ember of rebellion fanned into sudden flame by the casual mention of his failure. “You are working hard, Yushido, I’m not saying you’re not making great strides, but you’re still young. A child. You need training before you’re ready to help with adult work, and until you’re ready I can carry the burden of the clan for you.”

She stepped back to him, and the boy found himself held in her arms, hugged tightly for a moment. A rare gesture that made his heart pound in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her in turn. A moment of affection that ended all too quickly as Yoruichi shifted, and the boy found his face pressing into her breasts, the softness squishing against his cheeks as his eyes bugged out and his breath hitched in his throat. The quiet moment shattered as his sister giggled and gave him a salacious wink. 

“And consider jerking off before we spar next time,” she teased, still holding him tight to her breasts as he flailed and sputtered in furious protest. “It might help you focus on something other than my ass.”

Ducking her head, she planted a kiss on his forehead before releasing him, standing before him with a hand resting on her cocked hip. He sputtered something, but the words didn’t come out properly, embarrassment catching them in his throat, and Yoruichi sighed, shaking her head as a smile tugged her lips. She headed to the door, plucking up her scarf and winding it into place around her neck. 

“Maybe you can come once you've proven you can keep up,” she called back to the staggered boy. And then she was gone, a wind stirred up by her sudden departure, the sound of her footsteps already faded to nothing. 

Adult work! Yushiro wanted to spit in frustration, moving to the window in time to see his sister dashing out of the gates and into the winding streets that made up the city beyond the manor. He was perfectly capable of helping out, even if his sister couldn’t see it. He’d made some mistakes the first time they’d fought together, yes, but he was older now. Nearly a year had passed and she still thought of him as a child? 

Sliding the window open, the young Shihouin heir slung himself out, landing on the sloping tiles with a slight wobble. He saw his sister flash past into the streets beyond the manor, and he leaped off the roof after her, landing in a roll and dashing along the grounds, vaulting the fence without so much as pausing in his stride. He could keep up with her, and he’d prove it. Maybe he had some trouble focusing around her, but that didn’t mean he was hopeless. Muscles tensing, bunching and pushing, Yushiro launched himself off the street and onto the roof of a building. Keeping low he rushed along it, eyes flicking back and forth as he scanned for his sister in the crowd that washed back and forth through the city streets. It took only a minute of searching to pick her up, the bright orange of her jacket making her stand out from the grey masses. A jump and he was behind her on the roofs, keeping low and in cover as he trailed her, his sister unaware of his presence.

Yushiro couldn't help but smile as he trailed her, his training at the fore of his mind, curbing his more impulsive desires. He'd follow her all the way to her destination and then drop down to join her, rather than jumping out at her now. The surprise on his face when he revealed himself would be wonderful.

Plus, while the young boy was loathe to admit it, the roof gave him quite a nice view. From up here, with his sister unaware, he had the perfect view of her bubble butt bouncing as she dashed along the streets, the hem of her jacket not covering the full, caramel globes. Every step sending a ripple of impact up through her toned legs and making those gloriously full cheeks clap and jump. He was so distracted by the view, that he didn't even notice where they were at first, not until the roof tiles grew cracked and unsteady under his feet.

While the town around the Shihouin manor was well off, for the most part, every city had an area for the less fortunate, where money was leaner and the streets rougher. And it was to this sort of place that Yoruichi had lead her brother, her steps slowing even as roofs became treacherous, cracked tiles slipping and crumbling beneath Yushiro's feet and threatening to spill him off onto the street below or attract his sister's eye in a cascade of broken tile. What was she doing here, the young boy wondered, glancing around nervously, as if a rough neighborhood held anything that could threaten a trained shinigami. Yoruichi's head was moving this way and that. The woman searching for something…

"Hey! Whore! Get over here!"

Yushiro felt his breath catch in his throat as someone shouted above the murmur of the street and his sister's head snapped around, eyes narrowed. The shouter stood in a cluster with two other men, their skin pale and their hair dark, dressed in ugly, ill-fitting suits. A pair of tall men, who seemed weak and lanky despite the swagger they carried themselves with. The third was more rotund, a heavy belly straining the buttons on his suit. Not a one of them was attractive, and Yushiro could have sworn he saw hints of ink on their skin, peeking out from collars and cuffs. Yakuza, then. Or cheap wannabes, more likely. Rough thugs without the skill or drive to join even the dregs of society. He expected his sister to teach them a lesson for their crude insolence, and the young boy found himself smiling as his sister changed direction, stalking toward the men with anger burning in their eyes.

"I told you not to speak to me in public like that," the eldest of the Shihoin snapped as she drew to a halt in front of them, arms crossed beneath her expansive chest.

Yushiro blinked in surprise, unease growing inside of him. what was his sister saying? Why was she not throwing these thugs across the street?

“And I told you whores don’t get to tell me what to do,” the heavyset man replied with a laugh. The other thugs laughed sycophantically, the sound nasal and grating. Up on his perch, Yushiro felt his fists clench, aching to leap down and beat some respect into the man and his thugs. But he held himself back, certain his sister would beat him to the punch, but she didn't. Though he could see furious anger clouding her face, she didn't rise to their insults, instead glancing around the dingy street. That she didn't spot him told Yushiro all he needed to know about the state of his sister's mind, and he felt fear crystallize, edging out anger.

"Can we at least take this inside?"

"That eager to get alone with the boss, huh?" One of the men laughed. "Not that I can blame ya after the way you were left crawling last time, looked like you really enjoyed-"

Finally, Yoruichi responded, stepping forward and driving a flurry of blows into the thug, the force hurling him back against a wall. The other lanky goon snarled, stepping forward only to be restrained by a touch on the arm from his boss.

"Right, you're going to pay for that," the pudgy ringleader said, his tone cold. "Whores don't get to do that to their betters."

His hand, decked with heavy and cheap rings, blurred out and caught Yoruichi across the face. It was a blow slower than any Yushiro had thrown today, but it still connected with an ugly, flat sound, making her head jerk to the side even if she stayed silent. Above, Yushiro gasped, horrified as his sister simply accepted the blow. 

“Apologize to my man,” the fat, ugly thug demanded. 

“I don’t-”

Another slap, just as harsh and ugly as the first. Why wasn’t his sister fighting back? She could have easily taken all three men, and yet she was simply accepting their treatment. The Yoruichi he had always known, always looked up to, would have smiled lazily before taking the three men apart. Perhaps delivering a quip or a tease as she laid them out and left them in pathetic, broken piles.

"Apologize, or you don't get shit, and you can go crawling home with an empty purse."

“I… I’m sorry,” the eldest daughter of the Shihouin clan said, her voice trembling slightly. “Whores shouldn’t strike their betters like that.”

“Show her what we think of her apology,” the boss said, and the two men were on her like wolves. Huge hands grabbed at her, tugging her back and forth as they fought over her body. She looked like a piece of meat being squabbled over by scavengers, jerked this way and that by the ugly, brutish men. A hand as big as her face roughly grabbed one of her breasts, pale fingers digging into the tight, black material of her training clothes as the man gave her what he obviously thought was a dazzling smile.

"Glad to see you back here so soon,” the man she’d struck spat, taunting her as he let his hands roam, sliding underneath her leotard to grab her skin directly. “ I knew you liked us, but I didn't think you were this desperate," he mocked. “Or maybe you just like that boss knows how to put a bitch like you back in your place when you start acting up like that."

His fingers worked at the soft, fatty weight of her breast, sinking deep as he groped and squeezed and kneaded. And the proud warrior just… took it. Yushiro stared, horrified, as his sister was tugged about by greedy, thugs. The strongest warrior he knew, the woman he'd always defended and looked up to, and she was accepting their treatment. Her face was twisted up in anger and disgust, cheek already starting to show a bruise where the rings had caught her, her lip curled as the other man grabbed her ass, making it bounce against his palm as he laughed crudely.

But she didn't throw a punch, didn't hurl them back, didn't send them whimpering away. She merely bowed her head and let them have her fun. 

"I am desperate only for your money. I could happily do without any of you," was as close as Yoruichi would come to defending herself, spitting out the words as calloused hands pawed at her.

"So you keep saying. And yet here you are, coming back to us specifically," the boss said. “I think you like us. Why don’t you show my friend here how much you like him.”

“Wh-what? Here?”

It was so strange for Yushiro to see his sister, normally so collected and teasing, as the one who was stammering and shocked. He was so used to her flaunting her body, in relishing the shock and embarrassment of others, he hadn’t even been sure it was possible to embarrass her. And yet, here she was, stammering as he had back in the training room.

“Boss said here, so you’re gonna do it here,” the man she’d struck said, reaching down to his pants and undoing them, letting his cock flop out into the open air. It was impressively big, thick and pale, and covered in twisted veins. A jungle of wiry black hair sprouted from the base, and the smell of musk and sweat made Yoruichi’s nose wrinkle in disgust. 

Strong hands forced her down to her knees, bringing her face to face with the ugly cock. Big as her slim and delicate wrist, it twitched in front of her face, already drooling a thick rope of stringy precum. The man stepped forward, and his cock pressed against her face, hot and heavy as he rolled his hips, grinding against her pretty features as his balls bumped against her chin, his tip oozing thickly into her dark hair. 

“Open up,” the man smirked, reaching down to hook a thumb in her mouth. Slowly, he pried her plush lips open and laid himself against her tongue, holding her mouth open as he let himself lazily leak onto her tastebuds. Letting her taste him as he enjoyed the outrage and disgust that played across her face. 

“Stop playing with her,” the other goon complained, leaning against the wall next to Yoruichi and watching the show. “Just get on with it so everyone else can have some fun, too.”

“Fiiiiiine,” the bruised thug replied, sounding disappointed. 

And then his hips punched forward, dragging a startled, muffled squeal from Yoruichi as he drove himself to the base in a single, savage motion. His hips continued forward even once her lips were kissing his pelvis, and he bashed her head back against the cheap, rough stone wall behind her. And once she was pinned he took off, his hips blurring as he fucked her throat, getting revenge for the bruises on his face as she gagged and sputtered. 

Before long his cock was dripping with spit and pre, Yoruichi’s dark skin splattered with pale slop as he facefucked her with all the force he could muster. His pubes tickled her nose as his balls clapped against her swollen and cock-bulging throat. Every thrust knocked her head back against the wall, and it was a good thing she was a tough warrior, or she’d have been more than just a little loopy by now. Thankfully, the man was worked up, and couldn’t last more than five minutes down in that clutching, spasming throat. 

Pulling himself back, he let out a disgusting sound of pleasure as he came in her mouth, her lips wrapped around his head as he filled her mouth - jerking his hips forward when her cheeks started to bulge. Cum spurted from her mouth, some went down her throat, and some even poured from her nose as she started coughing and sputtering, the bruised thug pulling back just far enough to paint her face with his last few shots while staying out of the way as she coughed cum all over herself. But hey didn’t give her time to recover as cum dripped from her nostrils, just grabbing her by the hair and dragged her inside the building, slamming the door shut and cutting off Yushiro’s sight. 

The boy jerked as if the sound of the door had awoken him from a terrible nightmare. What was he doing, just watching as his sister was mistreated? But, then, what was she doing? Willingly coming to this place, to these men? Standing up, the Yushiro found himself tenting his pants once more, his cock as achingly hard as it had been in the training room. Shame burned him, shame born from his sister. Once again, this was all her fault, and this time he wasn’t of a mind to forgive her. With a leap, he moved from one roof to another, circling the shack his sister had been taken into until he found an open window and was able to see what was happening. Already his sister’s leotard had been stripped off, leaving her only in gloves and stockings, and she was down on all fours. The pudgy leader knelt behind her, hands kneading her ass, pausing only to lay a harsh spank across her rump, leaving it red as Yoruichi fought to keep quiet, jaw set stubbornly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You only like it up the ass, you freaky bitch," the boss grunted in response to something Yushiro hadn’t heard, his thick fingers digging into Yoruichi's ass and peeling her fat cheeks apart. With a disgusting noise, he spat a thick glob of frothy, gooey spit right onto her tight little pucker before using his thumb to slowly spread it around the rim of her hole. Then simply punched his digit forward with a grin, interrupting her protest. The proud woman howled in pain and the boss laughed, his men joining in as he popped his finger free and then drove it forward again, hooking his thumb and tugging, stretching that tight ring cruelly as Yoruichi gasped, but refused to cry out again. 

“Well no point in waiting around, eh? Not like I’m buying ya dinner.” With a grin, the man lined himself up and drove his hips forward. Yoruichi grit her teeth as the pudgy man pressed himself deeper and deeper, prying the over-stretched ring of her ass wide around his equally pudgy cock. Burying himself to the hilt and forcing her to feel the weight of his heavy stomach against her back, resting on her as the man let out a happy noise. Balls deep, his cock tented out her toned stomach, erasing the hard-earned definition as he forced her body to bulge outward. Reaching up, he tangled his fat fingers in her hair, silken locks slipping between his digits as he gathered up a handful and yanked, forcing her head back and making her stare up at his smiling face. 

“You’re welcome,” he told her, and then spat. Another thick, gooey glob of saliva splattered down on the woman, splash across her cheek as her face twisted up in disgust. Laughing, he shoved her face forward, ramming her into the crotch of one of his goons. And then he let the stuck-up, noble bitch really have it. 

He wasn’t an athletic man, nor was he a strong man. He was pudgy and bulky and out of shape, but he could fuck. It was the only regular exercise he took, and his hips were like a piston as he built up speed, his hairy balls slapping against her pussy as he pounded her like the bitch he knew she was. His heavy body would ram forward, the impact making her ass clap as his hips slammed into her with jarring, body-shaking force, pushing her forward - at least until his hand tightened on her hair and he yanked her back against him, not letting her get away as he built up speed. He grunted like an animal, the sounds echoing out the open window and down the street, and Yushiro shuddered as his stomach twisted. 

Yoruichi’s face was set, teeth grit as she grimaced with pain. Fighting to stay quiet and give no satisfaction even as her ass was gouged open, her guts rearranged by the fat bastard using her incredible body as nothing more than a cocksleeve. A wannabe Yakuza thug treating her like she was just another brothel whore, rather than a celebrated warrior.  And why wouldn’t he, Yushiro thought grimly. His sister was certainly acting the part, opening her mouth so the man she’d yet to service could drive his cock into her throat, bulging it once more as she gurgled pathetically. His hand slapped at her cheek as he lazily sawed his hips back and forth, enjoying the way she gagged around him, drool spilling down her chin as the man behind her drove her forward into him again and again. And when she tapped at his thigh, silently asking for air, he ignored her, just slapping her hand away. 

There wasn’t even the barest hint of respect for her as they bounced her back and forth, pale men with cheap tattoos enjoying the finest noble pussy with their filthy, depraved cocks. They only paused when her movements slackened, Yoruichi’s air running out as the cock in her throat blocked her from drawing breath. And even then, they paused just long enough to wake her up, spitting on her face again and, when that failed to rouse her, slapping her so hard that Yushiro saw droplets of spit arc through the air. And once she was moving again, so were they. 

There was a deep, throaty grunt from the boss as he emptied himself deep into Yoruichi’s guts, simply dumping his load into her as he clutched her waist so tightly his fingers threatened to bruise. He dragged himself back with a groan, his cock smeared thickly with cum, still half-hard and twitching as the last few ropes spilled out onto his whore, staining her dark skin with greasy white. He wiped himself clean on her stocking and then stepped aside huffing with pleasure as he took a seat to get his second wind. The bruised thug had already found his, and stepped up behind her, grabbing and twisting her off her knees and down onto her side, lifting one leg over his shoulder as he plunged downward into her already sore and abused ass. 

“Let’s see how long it takes to break that tough, frigid mask,” the man hissed as he churned his hips inside of her, his companion swabbing her throat without regard for her comfort. 

The answer, as it turned out, was less than two hours. After that, she was screaming and moaning and whimpering with every thrust, every slap, every spank. Her body bounced and shook as the men passed her around like a toy, sharing and enjoying her as they talked and drank and smoked, sometimes ignoring her all together even as she slobbered all over their cocks or licked cum from their balls or thighs. And no matter how many times they took her, no matter how hard they drove themselves, they always seemed to have enough energy for another round, another wave of fresh humiliation and insult. The sun set, and yet they kept going, clicking on a light even as Yushiro watched, still as a gargoyle, face set in a rictus of disgust that wouldn’t have looked out of place on such a figure. 

The sun was rising and Yoruichi was barely moving by the time the men finished. Yushiro’s sister, his proud and noble and strong sister, lay in a boneless, tangled heap on the floor. She’d been dumped to the dirty concrete when the bruised goon had finished bouncing her on his cock, and she lay there, panting and whimpering, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to stay conscious. The woman who had fought for days straight, who had fought Hollows, fellow shinigami, and worse, was defeated and broken by the three thugs, reduced to nothing more than the battered, used whore they’d called her. Cum splattered her dark skin, dried in places and still gooey in others. It glued one eyelid completely shut and decorated her beautiful features with rank ugliness.  Her hair was tangled and matted, her ponytail gone and cum dried and clinging all through the silken locks. Bruises stood out, stark even against her caramel complexion, and she was red where they’d slapped her for fun. Her ass, thrust up in the air, gaped pathetically, cum oozing from her devastated hole as the men redressed, laughing among themselves. 

“Here ya go. Even threw in a little extra, since I know your family is desperate for it,” the boss laughed, throwing a handful of coins to the floor in front of the ruined, defeated woman. They clinked and clattered against the concrete, many of them landing in splatters and pools of cum as the men all laughed raucously. There was barely any money there, barely more than pocket change, and yet Yushiro knew that it was money they desperately needed. Was this how she’d truly been keeping the family afloat? Selling herself off for little more than change? Dragging the family name through muck just for a handful of coins? The young head of the Shihouin family felt disgust roar through him, shame making his cheeks burn as he stared at his sister, his hero, with disdain and disgust. She barely even stirred, just reached out with a shaking hand to try and gather up the coins as the men walked out, pausing only to spit on her as they went past. 


“Same time next week, whore.” 

The door slammed shut and the men walked off, leaving Yoruichi on the floor of the shack. Yushiro watched her for a minute and then shook his head, turning away. His heart ached, sunk low in his chest as he started back toward the manor, his normally cheerful expression gone. He had a lot to think about, and his hands clenched in anger at his side. 


There would need to be punishment. 


