Bleach Porn Story: ~*Confessions of a Porn Star*~

Rangiku Matsumoto was sitting on a comfy, bright red armchair, her legs propped up on the desk in front of her, the latest copy of Cosmopolitan magazine open on her legs. She wasn’t really interested in what the magazine had to say; she’d already read the Bedside Astrologer, and that was really the only thing the magazine had going for it. She absently wound a piece of her long, strawberry blonde hair around a finger, chewing lazily on her minty gum.

Her bright blue eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall. Geez…it was already almost five. Where were the others already? They were supposed to be having a meeting soon, after all. With a soft sigh, she flipped the magazine shut and threw it on the desk. Her colleagues would be here soon; they had to be. With Nanao Ise as their taskmaster, who could ever be late? Propping herself up on the edge of the chair, she picked up a tube of strawberry scented lip gloss off the desk and applied some to her full lips.

Smacking her now sparklingly pink mouth, she smirked and set the tube of makeup down. She could hear their voices; any second now, and the door would burst open to a flurry of activity…any moment now…yeah…three…two…one…

“GODDAMMIT, NANAO! QUIT POKIN’ ME IN THE BACK LIKE I’M A FUCKIN’ DOG!!”

Kukaku Shiba burst into the room in a flurry of cursing, her long and spiky black hair swirling around her angrily like a cape. She flopped onto a couch and curled her legs underneath her, glaring at the other woman like she had the plague. She was wearing her customary tight red shirt and loose white skirt. Still glaring at the other woman, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it before taking a long drag.

“Honestly, Kukaku, I don’t understand how you get any clients at all, the way you carry on,” Nanao said coldly, shutting the door to the office behind her. “You act like a two year-old!”

“Better than actin’ like a fuckin’ old geezer,” Kukaku retorted, rolling her eyes.

“What’s wrong with acting mature?” Nanao demanded, sitting on the complete opposite side of the couch. Their other colleagues, Yoruichi Shihouin and Nemu Kurotsuchi, sat down between them, similar amused smiles on their faces.

Kukaku just looked at her. “You’re a porn star, Nanao,” she said. “Let me repeat that – a PORN STAR. There ain’t nothin’ mature ’bout bein’ a porn star.”

Nanao just pushed her glasses up haughtily and looked the other direction. “Whatever makes money is a suitable career,” she informed the black-haired woman airily. “It doesn’t matter how degrading such a job is.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Kukaku snarled.

“Are you two done yet?” Rangiku asked sweetly. They both turned to glare at her, but didn’t say anything. The blonde woman smiled and propped her chin onto her interlocked hands. “Good. We have business to discuss!” She absently clicked a few keys on her keyboard, opening up a few documents in front of her. “So, we’ve got our next assignments all ready to go! Hmm…Yoruichi, Urahara wants to shoot you again with some of his own clients. You game?”

The purple-haired woman snickered. “I’m always game for Kisuke,” she smirked.

“Hot shit, honey,” Kukaku said, turning to stare at their friend mischievously. “When did you get to callin’ him by his first name?”

“When I did him so hard he couldn’t speak coherently for three days,” Yoruichi said proudly, evoking several catcalls and laughs from the others. Well, from Kukaku and Rangiku anyways. Nanao just rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help the amused glint that came into her dark blue eyes. Nemu didn’t say anything.

“So what is he now, your personal little sex slave?” Rangiku asked excitedly.

“Come on, now, Rangiku, you know it’s give and take!” Yoruichi said, pouting her lips out a little. She got snickers at that comment. “We both get what we want. We get sex, I get paid for doing shoots and he gets money off the goods.”

“Dirty whore,” Kukaku said teasingly. She turned to look at Rangiku. “So what do I gotta do?”

“Hmm…lemme check,” Rangiku said, turning back to her computer screen, scrolling down a bit. “Well…ooh, your favorite, sweetie. You ready for some Red Light District action?”

Kukaku threw her head back, she was laughing so hard. “I’m always ready for some of that!”

“Honestly, could you get any more vulgar?” Nanao asked, rolling her eyes.

“Actually, probably,” Kukaku said, smiling deviously.

“Nemu, you’re wanted by that Syazel guy again,” Rangiku said, going on with the list of jobs. She eyed the dark-haired woman when she didn’t get a response. “You okay with that, honey?”

“I…I don’t have much of a choice,” Nemu admitted. Rangiku felt her heart constrict a bit seeing that. Nemu was their newest member, as well as the most desperate. She was very good at what she did considering how modest she normally was. But she was still in college, for God’s sake, and she had no family. Her insane father had been admitted to a mental hospital when she was only eight. She’d lived with foster families until she’d gotten old enough to get her own apartment, but still…bills had to be paid.

“Babycakes, you need money, don’t hesitate to ask,” Kukaku informed her blithely, pulling her cigarette out of her mouth and letting out a good stream of smoke. “We’re all in this together.” She nudged the quiet girl with her shoulder. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Nemu admitted, blushing. “Thank you.”

Rangiku pushed the door to her spacious apartment open with a sigh, kicking off her high-heeled stilettos by the door. After flicking the lock on the front door, she put her leather purse down on the table and put her black coat next to it before walking into the other room. She pulled up her long hair as she moved, tying it up into a messy pile on top of her head. The TV was on in the main room, showing some game show. She smiled when she saw Orihime watching it with rapt attention.

One of her best friends and her husband had been killed in a car crash almost five years ago. Their daughter, Orihime, had been devastated, especially since she’d had no other family. The kid had been set up for adoption the very next day, but Rangiku didn’t feel right letting the poor little thing get taken away like that. So she’d adopted the girl, even though she’d only been around twenty at the time; and she was an incredibly sweet girl too. She was in college now, and she helped with the cooking and cleaning instead of paying rent.

The red-head turned around when she Rangiku come into the room. “Oh, hi, Rangiku!” she gushed cheerfully, immediately turning down the volume on the TV. “Did you have a good day?” She stood up and bounded over to the counter, sitting down at one of the barstools.

“Eh, not bad,” Rangiku said, opening the fridge to rummage around for something to drink. She pulled out a beer and slammed the fridge shut with her hip, twisting off the cap of her drink at the same time. “What about you?” She smirked when she saw Orihime blush a little. “Did you ever hear back from that Ichigo guy?”

“Um…maybe,” Orihime said quietly, not able to help the goofy smile that crept onto her face.

Rangiku squealed in excitement, hopping up on to the counter and looking down at the younger girl. “You have to tell me everything!” She listened patiently as the young woman explained how Ichigo Kurosaki, her long-time crush and friend from high school, had finally worked up the courage to ask her out. That had been about a week ago. They’d gone on a date last night just to see if things could work out that way between them. The poor girl hadn’t been too optimistic, but apparently Ichigo had called her the very next day – during her first class, no less!

“I’m just so excited, Rangiku!” Orihime sighed happily.

“You should be, sweetie,” Rangiku said. She was genuinely happy for the young woman. She needed to have a boyfriend. She’d never had one in high school because she’d been too focused on getting into college – one of her late mother’s greatest dreams. Now she was watching her dreams come true right before her eyes. Rangiku knew it would work out; it just had to. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Orihime said shyly. “I made some dinner if you want any!”

“Eh…don’t really feel like it tonight,” Rangiku said, scrunching her nose up. “Thanks, though.” She sat up straighter, stretching; she heard a few vertebrae pop and she winced. “Think I’ll go take a nice hot bath.”

“Okay!” Orihime said. “I’m gonna finish watching this game show and then get started on my homework!”

Rangiku smiled as she took her beer with her into her bedroom, attached to which was the master bath. It was a nice apartment, she had to admit. She’d worked hard to get where she was today, even if she had to work an industry that was technically illegal. Moving into the bathroom, she turned on the faucets to the large, sunken-in bathtub, stripping out of her black pencil skirt and white button-up shirt. Peeling off her undergarments, she bent down and checked the water’s temperature before putting in the drain when satisfied.

She waited until the tub was almost full before turning off the faucet and adding some bubbles to the mix. Stirring the mixture into the water with her hands, she created enough bubbles to satisfy her and then sank down into the hot water, groaning in contentment. Leaning her head back against the little pillow thing at the side, she laid back in peace, letting her eyes slip shut. Today had been an easy day, with no jobs. Tomorrow…she’d really have to get down and dirty.

No child grew up with the aspiration to be a porn star. Come on, what kind of sick wish was that? She hadn’t had parents growing up; for as long as she could remember, she’d been an orphan, fending for herself. She’d managed to stay at the orphanage up until high school, when she’d first gotten involved into the pornography industry. She’d only been an up and coming star then, of course, and it had hurt that that was the only way to make money in this twisted world. She hadn’t wanted to be a porn star. But she’d been relatively good at what she’d done. She’d managed to buy her own apartment and even work her way up through the company, meeting people like Yoruichi and Kukaku.

When their old company had broken up due to a management disagreement, the three of them had banded together to form their own little agency. Nanao had come along a short time later. And now, about a year ago, Nemu had come to their door, asking if she might be able to get a job. She hadn’t had the heart to turn the girl down, seeing as how she was in a similar position as she herself had been at the girl’s age.

They all had interesting stories, really. None of them had gone into this business out of a desire to. Yoruichi had been thrown out by her family for going against tradition and not wanting to accept an arranged marriage at sixteen. Kukaku had lived with her brothers until they’d been found brutally murdered in their apartment, in the rather rough districts of Karakura. Nanao…she was in the industry for her own purposes; she had met Rangiku while in high school, and had never really admitted why she was willing to become a porn star.

To be honest, they were probably all capable now of getting other jobs and living perfectly respectable lives. But to do that, they would have to give up everything that they’d been working so hard to achieve. And they didn’t know if they’d be able to give up what they’d achieved together. The friendship they all shared – yes, even Nanao and Kukaku were friends despite how they acted towards each other – was so effortless, so special…she didn’t want to lose that for the world. She’d had a rough life…no parents, orphanages, the pain of a loved one leaving you without any warning…

She shuddered; those weren’t memories that she wanted to relive. She pushed them to be of her mind as she sat up and pulled down her thick hair, actually beginning to wash herself. She’d spent the past five years getting over that; she wasn’t ready to delve into those particular memories just yet.

Nanao clutched her purse even tighter to her body as she walked home to her small apartment on the upper side of town. It was rather cold outside for mid-November weather. Normally it didn’t get this cold here until at least January. She looked up as the streetlights started flicking on over her head. It was only about six o’clock; it was ridiculous how early it got dark in the winter months. What idiot had ever come up with Daylight Savings Time, anyway?

She hardened the expression on her face as she saw that shop come into view. She had no other choice; she couldn’t avoid it, considering that there weren’t any routes to her home quicker than this one. It wasn’t the shop that she disliked. It was the shopkeeper. He was annoying, persistent, sickeningly charming and…she unfortunately loved every minute of the attention he lavished on her. But she wasn’t going to let him know that. He didn’t even know her name!

As she passed the outskirts of the shop, she began to hope that perhaps he hadn’t seen her tonight. The beginnings of a smile had just formed their way onto her face when she heard that voice call out. “Oh, it’s you!” She froze and slowly turned around, letting her face turn form a cold glare that would normally send people reeling.

There he was – all six feet, three inches of him. He was dressed in his normal, gaudy outfit. For some reason, he insisted on wearing a traditional, flowery pink haori over his even more traditional black kimono. He insisted that it went with the theme of his shop – that’s right, asshole here sold flowers. Flowers. The only man interested in her romantically sold flowers. That was just too fucked-up to even think about. He even had long hair – tied back with some ridiculous looking pin. Not to mention his pathetic excuse for a beard.

“What do you want?” she asked coldly.

“Oh, come on now, that’s not very nice!” he said in a sing-song voice. “I just wanted to offer you a flower!”

“A flower,” she repeated. “You offer me flowers every day, and every day I say no.”

“Ever hopeful!” he replied cheerfully.

“Are you on drugs?” she demanded, growing madder by the minute. Couldn’t this man see that all she wanted was to get home, take a long hot shower and curl up by her fireplace with a cup of something very, very strong?

He chuckled; perhaps he thought it was a joke. “Of course not!” he proclaimed happily. “You don’t need drugs when you’re happy as can be!”

…She didn’t even know what to say to that particular comment. She turned around and began to leave. “Oh, come on, then!” he said, catching her arm. “Just one little flower!” She jerked her arm away and glared at him. “Oh, fine,” he said, sighing. “Maybe some other day.”

She snorted and waited until she had turned on the next street corner before muttering, “In your dreams, asshole.”

Nemu slowly let herself into her apartment, setting down her gray jacket by the door and slipping off her tiny black ballet flats. After locking the door – you could never be too careful – she walked into the kitchen and flicked on the lights. She was tired; today had been a long day. Not only had she had to go to several classes, one of which was at eight in the morning, she had found out that she was going to have to do a shoot with Syazel again. It wasn’t that he was a bad photographer, or even sleezy…he was just so silent during the shoots. It was creepy. Moving over to the fridge, she pulled out a microwave dinner and popped it in the microwave, pressing the buttons for the right time. She didn’t even have time to cook; she was going to be up late doing her homework.

She waited patiently until her food was finished before taking it out of the microwave. She winced when the hot plastic burned her fingers. She almost dropped it onto the counter, waving her fingers in the air rapidly to attempt to cool them down, even though she knew it didn’t really help. After hastily peeling off the plastic covering, she grabbed a fork and stuck it into the steaming contents. After waiting another few minutes for it to cool down to the point of being ready for human consumption, she took a bite. Satisfied with it, she moved over to her couch, where her school books and binders were currently littered all over the coffee table.

Grabbing the first assignment she saw – a sheet of problems for her Calculus II class – she opened up the appropriate textbook and picked up a pencil. With a sigh, she got to work on the first problem. She really hated math. It wasn’t that she found it difficult or confusing. It was the fact that it reminded her of her father, Mayuri. At one point, he had been a perfectly normal human being, if a bit eccentric. Then he’d gone off and discovered nuclear physics and gotten completely absorbed to the point that it’d driven him insane working out the intense math problems. She had vowed to herself that she’d never do that to herself. But she couldn’t help having his genes and being smart; she couldn’t help that she had to take these courses in order to pass.

She stopped when she heard a knock at her door. Frowning, she dropped her pencil, swallowed the bit of food in her mouth and moved quietly over to the door. She looked out through the peephole, but couldn’t see anything; darn it! She hated it when people stood out of her field of view. What if she didn’t want to answer the door? With a bit of resignation, she opened the door. When she saw who it was, though, she opened it wider, smiling. “Uryu!” she said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled at her, sticking his hands into the pockets of his slim-fitting jeans. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Well, you’d mentioned that you were having some trouble getting all your assignments finished…I thought maybe…you might want to work on some of them together?” It was only then that she noticed the bag hanging off one of his shoulders. Uryu Ishida was actually a year older than she was, but they were in the same grade at the local university; his father had made him wait a year before entering school, to get some experience in the real world, as Uryu had put it. They’d talked before some, and had exchanged numbers and addresses, but they weren’t looking to date or anything like that. It was more of a friendship type thing. Though she couldn’t help but notice that he was rather cute, in a nerdy, dorky sort of way.

“Sure!” she said quickly, stepping out of the way to let him inside.

He stepped in, removing his shoes and coat by the door and then following her into the living room. “Sorry it’s a mess,” she said quietly. “I had to just drop everything off before I went off to work.”

“Oh?” he asked interestedly. “Where do you work?”

“Um…just a little store downtown,” she said, the lie coming easily through her teeth. She couldn’t tell him the truth! What guy on earth would want to be her friend just because they liked her company if they knew she was a porn star?? They’d obviously try to take advantage of her. Well, a guy like Uryu wouldn’t…but he wouldn’t want to be her friend though. Right? He wasn’t the type of guy to like that sort of thing.

“Oh, that’s nice,” he said. He looked over at her Calculus worksheet. “So what are you working on?”

“Just that assignment from Calculus,” she said, sighing. “Have you done it yet?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It took a while though. I’m still working on that Physiognomy paper though. Have you finished it?” They were both in school to become doctors; that way, she could at least have something to look forward to after she quit the porno business.

“Actually, yeah,” she said, fishing for it through the books. After a moment, she found it and held it up proudly. “You wanna read it?”

“Sure,” he said, accepting it from her easily. He read a few paragraphs while she looked at him anxiously. Uryu Ishida was a very intelligent guy. He was at the top of the class and never seemed to find anything up to his standards. She only hoped that he wouldn’t find her paper substandard. He frowned and looked up at her. “This is incredible. I’ve never read anything like it! Are you sure you haven’t done anything in medicine before? No working at a lab or anything?”

She smiled in surprise. “No, I’m sure,” she said.

“Still…it’s really good,” he said. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thanks.”