Power of Persuasion Ch 1

By BellaRukia

Translated by Sariniste and BellaRukia on 19 June 2015

Summary: How simple it was to dominate her. How amusing it was, to make her feel like a woman and unforgettable when in fact she was simply another piece in his brilliant game of chess. He would seduce her again until Orihime was left with no choice but to believe, once more, that he needed her. Translation of AiHime story "Poder de persuasión" by BellaRukia. Spoilers from chapters 616-617, lemon, sadomasochism, dub-con.

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A/N: BellaRukia recently asked me for permission to translate my story "The Observer Effect" into Spanish and it led me to visit her profile page. There I found she has been posting new AiHime stories inspired by Aizen's return to the manga, including this one.

Together, we translated "Power of Persuasion" into English.

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It felt so warm, so gratifying to touch her skin again. It was so pleasurable to once more enthrall her gaze, to force her eyes, wide open and delightfully filled with fear, to become the receptacle of everything he desired, to reveal to her all of his dark and sinister joy at attaining freedom. The palm of his hand stroked an arc over her skin, from her cheek to her soft, childish throat, and paused at the trembling lips taut as stone. The lips that still retained the trace of his rapacious and cruel mouth.

"It's been a while, Orihime."

That deep, gravelly voice, at once suggestive and terrifying – she shuddered to hear it again. The voice that had murmured compliments she desperately wanted to forget. She trembled as Sousuke Aizen embraced her. She couldn't move, enmeshed in his arms, so hot, so cold.

Her hair had grown longer. Her face more angular and less childish. Curved waist, shoulders and arms delicately solid. The same intoxicating curve of throat, the same maddening breathing. The long, long hair that drove him to ecstasy as it clung to her skin.

It had been a very long time since Aizen had gazed upon Orihime Inoue.

Embracing her constituted an act of hypocrisy that Orihime never remarked. Because it was so beautiful, so ineffable to feel his heat and strength in an embrace that had always brought her pleasure; the pleasure of feeling protected, the illusion of being specially indispensable and essential for someone as dominant as him. She never said no to him, and Aizen remembered very well how she had always surrendered.

He would never forget how Orihime parted her legs without being asked, nor the times she snuggled against his chest, spent, after he had taken her several times in one night. Nor had he forgotten that one of those nights he had promised her he would come for her, no matter what, to claim her as his own once he ruled Soul Society. No doubt she believed him, because, now, lost in the Rukongai woods, she was feeling the unmistakable reiatsu of the one who had proclaimed his ownership approaching.

"You were my princess, do you remember?" he murmured, looking into her eyes and stroking her chin.

He had made her a woman; he had taken her as his prisoner in Las Noches and into the grip of his relentless thirst for possession.

His freedom had been conditionally granted by Shunsui Kyoraku before he effected his masterful escape from his bonds. Those idiots. Incompetents. Had they forgotten with whom they were dealing? Were they really so obtuse that they did not realize he was above them all, that he was far beyond god? It was all too easy to fool the newly appointed Captain-Commander. It was entertaining to imagine the bunglers of the Central 46 mocking his supposed confinement.

Yes, it was amusing. Aizen chuckled, imagining how he would kill each of them. It would be very easy.

"Aizen… sama," Orihime's voice was silenced by an abrupt and soft kiss he placed on her stiff lips. He would enflame her, intimidate her.

How simple it was to dominate her. How diverting it was, to make her feel like a woman and unforgettable when in fact she was simply another piece in his brilliant game of chess. He would seduce her again, he would slowly humiliate her once again until Orihime was left with no choice but to believe, once more, that he needed her.

Of course it was for something less evil than massacring the whole Shinigami race. Of course it was for something able to redeem him in the endless course of souls. It was easy to manipulate her faith.

But no, Aizen-sama didn't have such feelings for her. Nor towards anyone.

"Orihime, I need you to come with me."

Her throat pulsed as she swallowed. She had forgotten how frightening it was to be at his mercy.

But she could not succumb to his plans again. She could not let herself be swayed by his eloquence at a time like this. Yasutora was missing, and Orihime had to find him at all costs. Before Kurosaki…

"I can't," Inoue said with trembling determination. "I'm sorry."

Did she really think that she would be able to refuse him for such a stupidly noble reason?

It was always the same. Humans were so predictable.

He took her hands with an attitude of surrender and patience. He looked into her eyes quietly but without sweetness.

"Come with me, Orihime."

It was terrifying to hear the command. But it was then that Orihime truly comprehended that the man in front of her was indeed Sousuke Aizen.

And it was then that she wondered how it was possible that he was free. And worse, at a time like this. Would everything be lost? Would Aizen collude with the Quincies to finish off the Soul Society once and for all?

But in truth, she had no time to consider such questions. Her duty was to find Yasutora, even if Aizen killed her for trying.

"I'm sorry," Orihime repeated, clenching her fists and inhaling deeply. "I… I can't."

Suddenly she gasped loudly. Aizen's face was a few inches from her own. But all semblance of kindness was gone; he had grabbed her by her neck and thrown her against the trunk of a tree.

Seeing her so weak and unprotected raised an almost uncontrollable craving within him, to allow himself to lose control. She was beautiful, and had grown more so. He found her outfit curiously unpleasant, but he could not deny that the soft swell of her breasts aroused him.

She was running out of air and her mortality was visible in her eyes. He could kill her in a moment and savor her fall at his feet. It would be splendid that his princess died to glorify him.

But he would not; he still needed her for so many things…

Orihime tried to break free, but her strength was nothing in comparison to his. He could crush her in the blink of an eye.

"Pl-Please…" she stammered, choking.

"Orihime. For what purpose do your body and soul exist?" He eased his grip on her throat just enough so she could answer, his expression as calm as ever.

Orihime refused to respond. She would fight till the end against Aizen's intentions, although that end would come just one second too late. She remembered the exquisite torture of resisting him without saying a word, followed by the sweet reward of submission. He would make her suffer again only to console her in his excruciatingly passionate and devastating way.

His gaze overwhelmed her. He was still the same after all; nothing had changed. How many times had she had to kiss his neck, and chest, and to kiss any part of his body he demanded, even in front of the Arrancar women who later blamed her and sought her out to hurt her. She still had to do whatever he commanded. It was the will of Aizen-sama.

"Tell me, Orihime," Aizen repeated in his deep and powerful voice. "For what purpose do your body and soul exist?"

"They exist…" Orihime took a deep breath and let her arms fall to her sides. "For Aizen-sama and his will."

He smirked. Finally, he released her and began to kiss her vigorously.