Oroku Saki releases a final breath when the sword burns through his skin. The world tilts sickeningly as he’s falling, falling, falling….until he’s standing in a forest.
No, not a forest.
A garden.
The sunlight burns bright after so much darkness and he winces, eyes watering as they slowly adjust. He sees a brook trickling merrily at his feet, accompanied by the distant hum of birdsong, the rustle of wind in colorful flowers and elegant trees. 
“What the devil?” he murmurs.
He doesn’t really know what’s going on, and to be honest he doesn’t care. With a growl he turns away from the brook and strides off, swiping at a slender sapling as he goes.
It leans out of the way, almost casually, and before he can process that the ground is rippling under his skin, sending him flying.
“Gah!” Saki rolls to his feet and raises his claws, scanning the treeline for an enemy. His elbow stings from the impact; he can feel pain in his place, just as he did in the last afterlife, but nothing like this ever happened to him there.
He hears the whoosh of branches next to his head, and he whirls out of his grip--or tries to, but the ground goes soft beneath his feet and he sinks, dirt hardening up to his ankles.
Saki’s trying to tug himself free with a curse when the branches wrap around his arms and yank them over his head. The earth ripples around his feet, dragging them up to the tree and yanking them apart, stretching his legs painfully wide.
It all takes less than a minute.
“Fuck….” Saki twists with a snarl, trying to cut himself free, but his tenko-kangi are plucked from his hands and tossed away, clattering into a path of flowers.
“Not what you expected, is it?”
And suddenly there’s a woman standing there, hands folded in front of her kimono and a warm smile on her delicate features.
“Tang Shen?” His jaw drops. Of all the ghosts he expected to find in the afterlife, she’s the very last one.
“The very same.” She gives him an elegant bow, the kind they’ve exchanged so many times before--only now her eyes burn into his, instead of staring demurely at the ground. “What, no courtesies for an old friend?”
“You bitch….” He twists and yanks, but the branches--they’re adorned with fucking cherry blossoms, how are they so strong?--don’t give. “What is this?”
“This?” She pauses, looking him up and down. “This is a rather disappointing gift, I suppose, to make up for all the misery the powers that be have put me and mine through. But I’ll take it, I suppose.”
He lunges at her with a growl and she sighs, eyes flickering white as a new branch slithers down to wrap around his shoulders, holding him tight.
Shen smiles at his shocked expression. “Fascinating, isn’t it? You see, while you were playing war games in that little soldier’s paradise, I was learning.” The glow comes back and she waves a hand, causing the branches to rise higher until his arms are trembling with the strain. “Learning how to bend this ghostly little world of ours to my every whim.”
“What do you want?” he spits out, although he suspects he already knows.
“Same thing you wanted when you butchered me and everyone I ever loved,” she says, still smiling. “To spread a little pain.”
Pain. Saki growls, ordering his racing heart to calm. He can stand pain. He’s encountered it in all its many forms, and he’s won battles despite it. He can win this, too. “Do your worst, slut,” he grits out. “When I get loose I’ll give it back a thousandfold.”
She blinks, and then a branch is tearing the helmet off his head, tossing it into the brook with a splash. It runs through his bound hair, almost playfully, sending it rippling down his back in a dark sheet.
He’s ready when they move on to his armor, but he can’t keep from stiffening when the branches start poking through the gaps, yanking plates and links free. His cape is torn, tossed off into the bracken, and the rest of his equipment--his hidden blades, his rope, his belt soon follow. Even the boots are ripped off his feet, dragged painfully off by the rippling dirt.
A rush of cool air follows the loss, and she’s not done. The branches slash through his clothes and undergarments, bark scraping against his skin as he’s stripped with the speed and efficiency of a practiced hand peeling an orange.
“You dare?” he demands.
“I do.”
All too quickly he’s bare, warm sunlight splashing across his pale skin. Her eyes scrape across his body--his muscular calves, his trembling thighs, his dangling cock, his heaving chest, his flushed face. Saki shoves down the urge to squirm.
“Like what you see?” he spits out. “Your husband and your eldest certainly did.”
She flinches at that, as if she’s been struck. Good. No one humiliates him and gets away from it.
“Is this what this little display is about?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Wanting to see why Yoshi left you in your cold little bed time and again, with only your fingers to feed you?”
He laughs, sharp and mean. “You were such a joke to us--me, him, Kitsune. We’d talk about how desperate you must be to join us.” He looks her up and down, the way she did him. “Pity you never quite made the cut: not poor, dull, little Tang Shen.”
The branch that cracks across his rear isn’t entirely a surprise; he knew a fresh attack was coming in this form. He bites his lip as it again and again, bark biting into his tender skin, fresh flashes of pain crawling up his spine.
But that’s all it is, isn’t it? Pain. And pain’s an old friend by now. It may be coming from a slightly less dignified place than usual, but he doesn’t care about that. What matters is the soft shake in her clenched fist, the gentle rattle in the trees overhead. Her control is not absolute.
He thrusts his hips obscenely, smirking as she takes an involuntary step back, away from his cock. “Handsome, isn’t it? Do you know how much Leonardo begged for it?”
Her jaw clenches, and his restraints rattle even more. The branch starts hitting harder and faster, but he grits his teeth and pushes it on.
“Oh, he was shy at first, even after Kitsune broke him so sweetly. So polite, so demure, you would have been proud… until I got him on my cock, and he started shrieking like the little animal he is.”
Saki smiles, brighter and colder than a shark. “He cried sometimes, of course, but he was so pretty when he did it I didn’t really mind.”
The spanking jerks to a halt. Saki draws a rattling breath, ignoring the flashes of agony from his tender ass.
“Do you think they dream about me? Yoshi and Leonardo? Do you think they do it more than they think about--”
And then he stops talking, stops breathing, as something brushes across his inflamed skin. Something finger-slim, its bark-pebbled surface slick with some kind of safe. It pushes between his cheeks and dabs the sap across his hole, deceptively gentle.
No. No. Not this, never this…but yes, if the cold look in her eyes is anything to go by, this.
“I know what you did, Saki,” Shen says. “I know that you seduced my husband, I know how you tortured my son, I know you wiped out my family once and will do anything to repeat the job. That is why you are here.”
“Cunt--” he snarls, and then the twig is shoving up inside him, bark scraping where bark should never, ever go. It hurts, it hurts so bad, and even worse than the pain is the sickening, creeping sense of violation . 
He growls. He does not whimper. He does not. And he ignores the slow crawl of terror as the branches still, as her control settles back over him, forcing inside him.
“You--you’ll pay for this,” he gasps out. “You’ll all pay for this. I’ll--”
“Do what?” Shen asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have me killed? You did that already, didn’t you?” The front of her kimono ripples, a red flash arcing across her stomach before disappearing.
“I’ll come back.” The twig is moving around inside him, stretching him briskly, and if he thinks too hard about it he’ll throw up. “I’ll come back, I’ll--”
“Your little witch isn’t going to resurrect you this time,” Shen says. “She’s too weak, or she doesn’t care--it doesn’t really matter to me. No one is coming for you.” She places a cool hand on his heaving chest. “By the time I’m done, she won’t be able to recognize you.”
A second twig joins the first one, and he hisses with the fresh pain; he hasn’t bottomed in literal centuries, and certainly not for a fucking tree. 
He ignores the spike of nauseating terror and tries to distract her again. “B-bebop and Rocksteady, they…they fucked Donatello, before they killed him. Tore him to pieces with their cocks. They told me all about how he screamed, he moaned…” They didn’t tell him any such thing, but he wouldn’t put it past them. “They’ll do it to all of your children.”
“Will they?” She runs her fingers up to his nipples and twists, and he discovers one more way to be hurt, one more little lightning bolt dancing across his nerves. He swallows a gasp.
“And so much worse.”
She laughs at that, reaching up to tug his hair in a mockery of affection. “You always did love your stories, Saki.” A third twig pushes inside him and he’s burning--bleeding, too, if the dampness down his thighs means anything.
The sharp point cuts into a bundle of nerves deep inside him and Saki bites clean through his lip from the pleasure pain pleasure pain PAIN. 
“It’s all right,” Shen says, patting his cheek. “It’s perfectly all right to cry. You don’t have to worry about someone hearing you, darling.”
He hates her. He hates her so fucking much, and the worse than that is the idea that he might fear her. The very possibility makes him want to crack into a million pieces.
He shoves the feeling away and forces himself to spit in her face. It’s a good hit, red-streaked globules splattering across her porcelain cheek. “You perverted fucking whore ,” he whispers.
Shen blinks, then reaches to carefully wipe his spot away, studying the mess on her hand like she’s observing some kind of insect. Then she’s looking up at him, and he feels like the insect.
As the stretching goes on and on she carefully drags her fingers down his chest, smearing him with his own saliva.
“I didn’t want to be like this,” she murmurs. “I wanted to be nice, clean, good. And then I bled out in a heap of my own shit, on the floor of my home. I saw my family ripped away from me, saw them hurt and hunted and raped. And then I just....got tired of watching, I suppose.”
She lifts her hand, sticky with his blood, and holds it up before his face. “You’re going to suck,” she says calmly, as a root slithers up from the ground and wraps oh so gently under his cock. “Or I’m going to take you to the edge before ripping it off.”
Never, he wants to spit, but a fresh twinge of pain reminds him that she’s become the kind of person who follows through on such things. He opens his mouth and tries not to gag as the bitter taste of blood fills his mouth, accompanied by smooth, delicate fingers. She rolls them along his tongue, wiggling and poking at the sides of his mouth, and he’s hurtling towards a gag reflex before she yanks her hand out.
“Good boy,” she says, and the twigs are yanked out just as abruptly. Saki doesn’t have time to feel relief (or loss) when something much bigger starts nudging at his hole, careful and inquisitive.
“I’m going to fuck you with a knife,” Saki whispers. “I’ll take what’s left of you to that soldier’s paradise of mine and leave you to my men. Then I’ll come back to life, and I’ll choke your husband to death on my cock before making him into a fucking rug.”
It’s pushing inside him now, and even with the slickness of the leftover sap and the stretching fingers he knows it’s big, too big. Bigger than anything from a human being, and it feels like it’s slicing him to the core.
“I’ll--I’ll fuck your brats, every one of them,” he growls. The idea helps steady him, at least a little. “I’ll have Leonardo go first when I welcome him back into the fold, and then I’ll do the others, and I’ll make them all watch.” 
It’s pushing and pushing, and Shen’s just standing there, face pale and expressionless. Like a corpse, Saki thinks, trying not to choke on the dread bubbling in his chest.
“And then I’ll chain them up and let the soldiers have a go. By the time I’m done, they won’t be able to remember the stupid new names that gajin bitch gave them, let alone--”
The branch around his cock rears back and cracks across supersensitive flesh, just as something tears inside him with a long and painfully rip. screams, and his voice sounds like something dying.
Shen steps neatly out of the way when he throws up, vomit splattering across the flowers. He’s sobbing for air now, shaking all over, because it hurts it hurts. He feels the branch fucking him steadily, rocking him back and forth in the restraints that feel like iron around his trembling limbs.
“What a mess,” Shen chides, wrinkling her nose. Saki’s blood is dripping onto the grass now, but the branch is still thrusting merrily away inside him. It’s as if someone got an entire arm inside him, if that arm was made of sharp, dusty wood which leaves vicious little splinters in its wake.
“Still, I suppose you’ll make a pretty enough sight after I plug up the rest of you.” She takes his bruised, shaking cock in hand and gives it an experimental pump, making tender nerves throb. A new twig nudges at his slit and Saki feels his heart seize up.
No warning, this time, no preparation, it just pushes all the way through. Only now he can see it, see his cock twitch and flex as it’s run through in a way he didn’t even know was possible. It moves in and out, in and out, as he’s torn and stretched from two directions at once.
“Bitch--” he snarls, because he has nothing left. But now a vine is slithering down his burning throat, choking him, and an ugly part of him is relieved, because he’s terrified he might start begging otherwise.
Then she says, “I’ll ungag you in a little while, see if you’re ready to plead yet.” And even that small comfort is gone.
He’s being fucked from three ways now, everything moving out of tune so something is always shoving into him as something else grinds out. He gags on the vine slithering in his throat, on his pain and shame.
I will kill you, he screams with his eyes, ignoring the tears glistening at the corners. I will, I swear. 
He has no idea what Shen will do next, but she doesn’t expect the most terrifying thing of all--for her to do nothing at all. She just looks at him, studying at the blood staining his flushed, bruised skin with an air of mild satisfaction. There isn’t even lust in her eyes.
“The powers that be will want you back, of course,” she muses. “They’ve got plans for you, little devil. But I have a bit of time with you, and when you’re dead you can stretch a bit of time very far.”
She reaches out to pat his cheek, then turns away. “I’ll check in on you later,” she calls over her shoulder. “See if you’re ready to kiss my feet and beg forgiveness. And then I’ll try growing flowers out of your ears or apples in your stomach.” His world tilts dizzyingly at the possibility.
Saki lets out a muffled scream as she walks away, and he’d like to pretend it’s just out of rage. Shen waves a casual hand without looking back, a mockery of a goodbye, and the things inside him move faster. He’s being ripped apart know, he can feel it, and he knows deep down that he’ll just heal, that no amount of suffering will give him a way out of his place.
He keeps screaming, because it’s better than weeping, and the garden swallows his voice up.