A request made from a friend of mine. A challenge, haha. I had so much fun with this one I'm thinking of adding more chapters, but we'll have to wait and see.

Warning: no plot. Honestly, do we even need one? Jail sex is pretty much every pervert's fantasy, including mine, so here we go. Warning: rape, I guess. It's rated M for a reason, kids.

Hehehehohohoproductions, this one's for you.

-Don't Drop The Soap-

"Ha-ha," an inmate said, his face made extra-creepy by the lack of eyes presented to me. His hair was a startling shade of white that was nearly silver, his smile showing no teeth, and with the slanted look of his closed eyes, I couldn't help but think how much this psycho looked like a snake, "Ne, fresh meat."

My back stiffened as I looked away; bad enough I had drawn attention to myself by walking into the Common Room of the penitentiary. Bad enough I hadn't been allowed to dye my hair a more normal shade before being thrown in this hell pit they called prison for the next year. Las Noches Penitentiary was infamous for its inmate gangs, and if I expected to survive here, I had to keep myself as low on the radar as fucking humanly possible.

My little plan had been shot to shit the moment I had been admitted with fucking flaming orange hair.

"Wha's tha matter, carrot top?" the creepy inmate called to me, still seated on the top of the metal table. I looked back at him, a little surprised. He was currently swinging his legs off the edge of the table, like a small child might do.

But this guy was no small child. Far from it. If he stood up, I knew he'd be taller than me. His frame was thin, not bulky at all, although I could tell by his arms and the exposed part of his chest that he was toned and not one to mess with. His orange jumpsuit was slightly too big for him, although I supposed that was good for him considering they weren't the most comfortable pieces of clothing on the planet.

His grin made me want to shiver, but I refused to be intimidated. Weakness meant death here, so I held my head high, my eyes locked on his slitted ones.

I wanted to, but I didn't gasp when I saw they were a bright crimson. This fucking albino scared the shit out of me already, and I didn't even know his name yet.

"Ya look lost," Snake face continued, tilting his head to the side, "Yer a new one, so pretteh too."

My temper demanded I defend myself, but my sense of self-preservation told me to ignore him and keep my mouth shut. For all I knew, he was a leader of one of the gangs. I'd been here a couple days already, had heard a few things hear and there, whispered and spoken. There were basically two huge rival gangs, the Soul Reapers and the Espada. As far as I was concerned, I needed to stay the hell away from both of them if I was going to survive in here for my sentence, which stretched ahead of me like a blurry tunnel with no end.

Fuck. And all because I had just had to beat the shit out of my sister's abusive boyfriend. I had very nearly killed the kid, who had thankfully been eighteen or I might have been slapped with an even heavier sentence for assaulting a minor. Assault and battery charges were weak in this place; I couldn't let anybody know what I had been sent here for. If anybody found out, it would be my ass.

Quite literally. I was in a den of murderers, thugs, and psychopaths. Every single person in this place was doing no less than twenty years. Some of them were even sentenced to two lifetimes, which didn't make any sense to me, but whatever. They'd never see the light of day again, and here I was, a ripe, fresh ass just begging to be taken advantage of because I'm not a thug, just a kid with a bad temper and a decent uppercut.

But enough about me. Snake Face is still staring at me, although by this time he has gotten up off of the table, his hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit as he takes a few steps towards me, stopping with a smile when he sees that I have taken a step back, my body rigid.

"Ya should be a lil' nicer ta me," he drawled, that smile intimidating, "I ain't gonna bite'cha, unless ya want me 'ta."

"Fuck you," I spat, my temper finally getting the better of me. Fuck this fucker: I wasn't going to be treated like a little bitch. This guy didn't know me from Sunday; maybe if I faked a little prowess, he'd back the fuck off.

Instead he snorted, tilting his head to the side as he smirked at me, "Ya don't strike me as a top, Strawberry. I think ya'd much prefer ta have one'a us take care of that sweet ass ya got."

I knew exactly what he was trying to do; logic battled anger as I bit my lip, trying to keep myself under control. He wanted me to attack him, wanted me to snap, so that he could test my strength, feel me out. Or quite literally, FEEL ME OUT, the fucking prick. No way was this fucker taking my virginity, not in this cess pool of lesser human life forms. Sure, what I had done wasn't exactly perfect moral behavior, but considering the scum that was surrounding me, I was pretty much a saint.

"You don't know me," I finally said, crossing my arms over my chest to keep them from shaking, "You don't know anything about me."

The guy laughed, shaking his head, "Tha' name's Ichimaru Gin, fer yer future referencin' pleasure. And trust me, year's an AWFUL long time 'ta reevaluate yerself, Strawberry. Maybe ya should listen 'ta ma proposition before 'ya walk that doomed ass outta this room."

I was shocked: how the hell did he know about my sentence? He had to have his sources with the guards, which made me even more anxious. Having resources like that meant one thing: this motherfucker was powerful.

I lifted an eyebrow, my poker face still on, "What're you talking about?"

He nodded towards two chairs that were over in an unoccupied corner, ignoring the few other inmates that had been staring at the exchange, although they were too far away to have heard anything. One was a black man with dreads, a white bandanna tied around his eyes, like they were wounded. Maybe he was blind, or just one of many freaks in this monkey cage. How the hell was he playing cards like that?

Another had brown hair slicked back and a cocky face, like he thought he was king of the fucking mountain. And the third member of the poker game was a man with pink hair. I gaped at him for a second, glad that somebody else had a ridiculous hair color besides me. Surely that faggot was eating cock sandwiches several times a day. They continued their poker game, the cocky leader-looking bastard blowing smoke through the room as I finally gave in to my curiosity and took a seat, my body carefully angled away from the creep.

He took a seat too before reaching into his jumper and pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one with an expensive-looking lighter, taking a puff before offering one to me.

"I don't smoke," I reply, my arms still locked over my chest.

He grinned, blowing a stream of smoke out of his nostrils, "Neither did I. You'll find out soon tha' there's not much 'ta keep yer attention, other than eatin', smokin', and fuckin'. That's what this is really about, Berry. I'm tryin' ta do a civic duty and help 'ya out, here. I've been here a little longer than most, and I can tell 'ya how 'ta survive 'ta walk out those big metal doors with yer mind still intact."

I looked away, than back at those strange eyes, "Why would you help me?"

Gin grinned, blowing smoke in my face and annoying me, "Cuz I ain't the asshole ya think I am. I was new here once, and I had someone 'ta guide me, and now I feel like I gotta' return the favor."

"Who helped you?" I said, feeling cocky.

Gin's lips twitched, like he wanted to laugh, "It was a different kind of helpin', ya might say. Now what I'm about 'ta tell ya is very importan', so listen' up, cuz I'll only say this ta' ya once. Yer goin' ta need a protector here. Now before ya get all macho on me an' tell meh you can handle yerself, let me remind 'ya that 'ya can't. Yer a twenty-one-year-old brat with an assault charge; yer ass will be pounded purple before tomorrow mornin' if word gets out, and trust meh, I ain't the only one with the resources ta find out that kinda' information."

I was panicking internally at the man's words, my stomach so tied up in knots I felt sick, "Protection?"

"Now yer gettin' it," he said, stubbing out his cigarette in an empty paper cup, "ya got two choices: Soul Reaper or Espada. Both are gonna be after ya, especially since ya got a more slender build than some of the other newbies. And that hair…might as well paint a target on that ass 'a yers. Now, I'm gonna give ya my two cents and ya do what ya want with the information. The Shut Call of this shit hole is an Espada, so I think ya should think real long and hard about choosin' them…"

"Shut Call?" I said, the words foreign on my tongue.

Gin sighed, "The big man on campus, the guy who's got more power an' respect than anybody else in here, the leader of the Espada. Mess with him and 'yer askin' ta be sent outta here in a body bag. The guy's a complete ruthless psycho. Just killed a guy two weeks ago for starin' at his hair for too long. Laughs a lot, though, when he attacks. A good sense'a humor."

The smile Gin offered me made me want to throw up, "Why the HELL would I talk to him then?"

"Yer not listenin'," Gin said, rubbing his forehead with a hand before looking at me, irritated, "He's tha one guy in here that can guarantee yer fuckin' safety. If he owns 'ya, ain't nobody gonna mess with 'ya. Ya can count on tha', Strawberry. Anybody who messes with his property gets a fist and a coffin. Now yer prob'ly wonderin' what ya can give this guy ta protect ya, and there's only one thing in this God-forsakin' place that's got any value."

"What's that?"

"A bitch," Gin said, looking at Ichigo with a serious expression, "Become the Shut Call's bitch and you're safer than a diamond in a vault. And if ya don't become his bitch, than he's prob'ly gonna come after ya anyway. The Soul Reapers are his rivals, but he ain't got no problem takin' them on, and trust me, they don't want ta take him on. They know who holds the real power in this prison, and it ain't them. Us Espada are tough motherfuckers; we'll keep attackin' 'till we're dead."

He smirked as I realized that he was an Espada, enjoying my lost expression.

"Now since I'm sucha nice guy, I'mma tell ya exactly how 'ta get the Shut Call."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, listening to him as he explained to me that there were different shifts for the showers. Twenty-four inmates at a time, at certain times of the day. The Shut Call always took a shower on the last shift; it wouldn't be hard to go then, considering most everybody avoided the Shut Call at all costs because of his unpredictable temper.

And, maybe, because they wanted to protect their asses.

But here I was, about to offer my virgin ass to a potential psychopath on a fucking silver platter. But I wanted to get out of here without being gang-raped by every fucking scumbag in this dump, so being the bitch of the most powerful person here made more sense than whoring myself out to who knew how many other inmates.

"You lost again, Szayel," a cold, calculated voice said from the poker table.

I turned my attention over to the table, my eyes going wide as I saw the pink-haired man sigh dramatically, pushing glasses farther up his nose as he said, "I know, Aizen-sama."

"I'll take it now, then," Aizen said, smirking as Szayel got out of his chair and crawled under the table. What the hell was he doing?

I saw Szayel's hands work at the pants of Aizen's jumper, his hands pulling a ready cock free. My eyes went wide as Szayel immediately went to work, licking and sucking on it so fiercely it made my mind spin. What the hell kind of poker prize was that?

Aizen continued to clean up the cards on the table, putting them into one big stack and shuffling them, like he was completely unfazed at the blowjob, "Sometimes I think you lose on purpose, you little whore."

There was a giggle from under the table and I couldn't look anymore. Gin had a knowing look on his face. I nodded my head at him, standing up, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…thanks."

Gin chuckled as I left the room, and I didn't stop or turn back even as he said, "Don't thank me just yet. If ya change yer mind, don't drop the soap."


Here it was, the moment of truth. I stepped into the steaming shower room, butt naked and extremely self-conscious. I'd been here a few days, but I'd been taking my showers in the morning to avoid as many people as possible, always keeping my ass to the wall and my eyes on the floor. I guess you could call me crazy, then, as I walked into the farthest part of the shower room, choosing a showerhead as close to the blue-haired Shut Call as possible. I pretended to ignore the others' stares as I hit the water, relaxing at the water's touch even though I felt like every nerve ending in my body was going to explode.

A person didn't usually know rape was coming, so I wasn't exactly sure how to feel about it. Anticipating it is possibly a worse feeling than having it happen to you out of the blue.

I knew he was staring at me, the Shut Call Gin had told me was named Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. I had stared at him, although I wasn't now. But what I had seen had been beyond my expectations. I wasn't gay, I wasn't, but if I was, Jesus Christ on High I'd want him to fuck me through the tile floor of the shower as often as possible. He was tall, at least 6'1'', all sleek muscle and sharp plains, his blue eyes intimidating and intense, his blue hair even more sexy as it was slicked with the water of his shower. A giant, black number 6 was tattooed on his back. He even had a strange yet sexy exotic name.

Washboard abs, check. Long, muscled legs, double check. A body that would make a demon or an angel scream in lust, check check check.

Fuck, I could have definitely gotten a worse deal than this. He didn't exactly look crazy, either, although what Gin had told me earlier that day had certainly made him seem like a raging weirdo. But standing there, under the spray, playing king of the fucking mountain, I felt my throat tighten and constrict.

But no more staring now. I had to concentrate. This had to be played exactly right, or I wouldn't get what I wanted, which was kind of sick because I wanted him to rape me. I'm not gay, never even thought of being gay. I've fucked girls plenty of times and had enjoyed it, so I know that what I'm feeling right now is nothing but nerves and a sense to survive. If I had to let this guy fuck me a few times to ensure my survival, the testosterone in me quieted to a dull roar that I could stand as I soaped myself up, paying special attention to my chest, hips, and legs.

Oh, he was watching, along with a few others at this point as I bent lower to rub soap over my calves, my ass practically singing opera on stage before I arched my back standing up straight again, turning under the spray to face outward, giving the Shut Call a good look at what I had to offer in the front as well. I had always been active, always played sports, giving my body a slightly-muscled build that wasn't bulky, the muscle tight under skin still tan considering I had been in the sunlight only a few days prior. I had cut hips and a tight ass, both things the Shut Call had been exposed to at this point. Now it was a matter of time, really.

My hair was of course soaked by this point, so I ran a hand through it a moment for good measure, deciding now was as good a time as any to do what Gin had told me to do but what the scared boy in my head was screaming not to do.

The bar of soap slipped through my fingers, falling to the ground in front of me. One long, dramatic moment later I reached down and forward to grab at the bar, only to have a foot step over the soap, blocking me.

I knew who it would be, but I had to stay calm. I took a deep, even breath before turning my buttery brown eyes up to the Shut Call, his impressive erection nearly in my face.

"Didn't anybody ever tell ya not to drop the soap?" he husked, his face looking almost excited, his teeth exposed. The snide bastard was mocking me.

I stared up at him confidently, noticing that the showers were nearly empty of people. The very tall, spoon-looking guy had left, along with a blonde and a very pale, black-haired guy that constantly looked depressed.

Another man had just walked out, saying something to the one guard assigned to the showers before a door closed in place. Fuck, this mother fucker sure worked fast. Of course the Shut Call would have a few guards under his pay roll, considering he probably pumped enough drugs through this place to supply a small country. The gangs always found a way to smuggle in what was needed to survive, and I had to keep thinking about how much better life would be here once this cocky Shut Call made me his bitch.

"Do you mind? It's gonna get dirty," I said, pointing a finger at the bar of soap under his large foot.

A very wicked grin took over Grimmjow's face as he reached out a hand and grabbed my hair with a yank, making me cry out, "Yer gonna need a lot more soap then that once I'm done with ya, Strawberry."

"It's Ichigo," I defended, hating the stupid nickname more than the thought of that huge and intimidating cock being inside of me.

"Well, Ichigo," Grimmjow said, pushing my head until I was forced on my knees, the water still running as I stared up at him, my eyes wide, "I think I should teach you what happens when ya drop soap around here."

I gulped, trying not to stare at Grimmjow's impressive cock. A small patch of wet blue pubic hair greeted me, like a welcome mat for the cock that was nearly a reddish color, the veins prominent as it strained. Shit, I had done all that? Little old me had turned this dangerous dude on so much?

I was almost flattered.

Grimmjow tugged on my hair again, shoving my face into his straining member.

"Start suckin', bitch, and if yer teeth so much as graze it, I'll tear your heart out of that skinny-ass chest."

A part of me (the not gay side) wanted to bite the bastard's dick clean off, while the other (also not-gay) part of me argued that there was no way I could possibly close my jaws effectively enough around the huge cock to accomplish such a task.

I looked up at him again, reaching a hand out to grab the base of his cock, listening to him hiss before I guided the full member into my mouth. I licked at it tentatively, never having tasted one before. I had touched myself plenty of times, but obviously wasn't a contortionist or a freak to have sucked myself off. The skin of the head felt soft, even as the member nearly pulsed in my mouth from the attention.

To my horror, it wasn't exactly an unpleasant experience.

I began tracing my tongue over the pulsing vein along the underside, surprised I was getting such strong reactions from Mr. Bad Ass. He pushed his hips forward, nearly choking me. I pulled back and he growled, pushing my shoulders as he slapped me so hard I saw black dots floating in my vision.

"Did I tell ya ta stop?" he growled, pushing me until I fell back on my ass and hit my head against the wall of the shower. I felt dizzy, but my vision cleared rather quickly as I realized he was spreading my legs.

"N-no!" I panicked, trying to force my legs closed as I tried to turn around and crawl away on my hands and knees.

"Where the fuck you think you're goin'?" he said, sounding slightly amused as he grabbed my hips and pulled me back towards him, "You're a shitty sucker, so let's see how you do in the other department."

He forced a knee between my legs, his knee connected with my exposed anus and making me cry out. Shit, when had that gotten so sensitive?

"Yer fuckin' hard," he announced, spreading my ass cheeks with his large hands. I was on my hands and knees, panicking, hoping he would at least prepare me in some way for what I knew was about to come. Shit shit shit shit shit.

And even more shit, I WAS hard. I whined at the realization, which made Grimmjow laugh as I felt his penis probe at my unprepared entrance, "Hope ya like it rough, berry bitch, cuz water and soap's all yer gonna get from me."

I absolutely screamed as he thrust into me, feeling like he had just torn my ass in half. I clawed at the tiles on the floor, muscle spasms raking my legs as I tried to breathe.

"Fuckin' relax," he ordered, slapping one of my ass cheeks hard enough to leave a mark.

And oh, but some sick, little perverted part of me had really liked that. The sting in my ass cheek took my mind off of the pain of Grimmjow's rude cock, and I straightened my arms out in front of me, locking them in place as I fought the sensation happening inside of my body, "Shit."

Grimmjow began to pump slowly, which surprised me, but not for long because soon he was slapping against me, grunting as I tried to keep my yelling and screaming in my head. But that was just not meant to be, because Grimmjow laughed and cackled nearly every time I let a noise out.

"Yeah, you like that, don'tcha?" he asked, snapping his hips forward and brushing something deep inside of me that made me gasp and shudder and made my toes curl and nearly made my arms give out.

Sweet Kami, my dick had become painfully hard at the sensation, my nipples even tightening as I breathed ragged and hard, "Hahhhn…f-fuck…"

"Slut," Grimmjow spat, pulling out of me so quickly and violently I whimpered. He flipped me over, slamming my back quite painfully against the cold tile as he pulled my legs up, my knees pushed back by his hands, nearly over his shoulders as he adjusted himself again.

The pain was just as bad as the first time as he pushed in, making me scream a stream of curses as he continued his assault against my body, my erection rubbing against his chest every time he thrust into me.

The pain was tinged with pleasure every time he brushed that bundle of nerves inside of me, making me mewl like the little whore he claimed me to be. My head fell back as my arms began grasping at Grimmjow's elbows, digging into the skin there as my hips began to move instinctually against him.

I wanted him to find that spot again. If I had to do this, I had better get some fucking enjoyment out of it, especially since it was my ass that would be hurting tomorrow. Brush that spot, brush that spot…God, I couldn't take much more if he didn – "FUCK!"

I screamed, my back arching me nearly completely off of the floor as Grimmjow's cock had hit my prostate dead on, my muscles tightening around Grimmjow's length enough to make him moan.

"Fuck, yer tighter than a woman," Grimmjow crooned, rocking into me at an incredible pace as he laughed, "Yer so tight and hot, yer fuckin' clamping down on me like a bitch in heat!"

"G-uh, Gahhh," I couldn't come up with any more brilliant comebacks as he struck that place inside of me again, and again, and again, my body positively shaking as I reached my hand to my neglected cock and gave it one vicious tug, cumming over both of our stomachs nearly instantly.

Apparently my orgasm clamped my muscles enough to nearly tear Grimmjow's dick in half. Fucking bastard deserved it, but he nearly howled as he continued to pump into me, his breathing hard and hot as he came, filling me so completely I immediately felt dirty for our actions, even as I lay in a shower and some soap suds.

He pulled out of me immediately, cum flowing between my legs and sticky on my thighs. It was the grossest sensation I had ever felt, although there was such a throbbing coming from my entrance that I couldn't even care about the unhygienic state of things.

Grimmjow pulled out, leaning in towards me, his teeth attacking the side of my neck.

"Fuck!" I growled, pushing at him as I felt him break the skin. What the hell was he doing? I might have been a little turned on by the slap on the ass earlier, but I wasn't into biting. The fucker had drawn blood. He pulled back, licking his lips as he stared at his handy work, pushing my face to the side, "I always mark my bitch. Don't expect anything else: I don't kiss, I don't cuddle, and I sure as hell don't suck cock."

I stared at him defiantly, my ass starting to feel like it was on fire, "You didn't have to bite so hard, ass hole. I don't want rabies."

He leered at me, patting my cheek roughly before standing up and walking away from me, "I'm fuckin' clean, Strawberry. A lot of other bastards in this shit hole can't say that, so you'd better be grateful."

Grateful? I had just been raped in a fucking prison shower room, the stuff of nightmares, and this cocky bastard was walking away, tall and proud like he had just done me a favor or saved the fucking day?

Damn him, damn him straight to hell.

I move, shifting my position so that I am sitting cross-legged on the nasty-ass shower floor, letting the cold water continue to soothe my heated skin, my ass soothed by the ice-like contact to the floor. Thank Kami I was finally alone: from the feel of my ass, looked like I'd be in here for a while.


"So how was he?" Gin asked, that eternal thin smile on his face as he leaned against the wall of the large cell.

Grimmjow had just been escorted back by a guard, the metal bars clanging deafeningly as they closed, the guard walking away to shut down the block's electricity for the night.

Grimmjow pulled a thick wad of yen bills from his jumper's pocket, tossing it to his cell and gang mate, "I think I'm gonna have ya recruit 'em all from now on, Ichimaru."

Gin chuckled as the alarm buzzer went off, the blocked cells now plunged into the darkness that was Las Noches.

Phew! Done! ~wipes forehead~ I don't know how I feel about it being first-person perspective, but I wanted to try it, considering I've never done it before. And fyi, prison leaders are called shut calls, lol. A little bit of info for you guys, heehe. So how'd it go? Is it a decent one-shot? I've never done a one-shot before! Kind of exciting for me haha PLEASE REVIEW!