Do as I say (4/?)
anonymous
March 8 2010, 00:09:52 UTC
The smell of Earl Grey filled the air. It mixed with the roses and berries, making Alfred dizzy. He had closed his eyes in order not to get the water into his eyes, but he couldn’t ignore the pain circling in his cheeks underneath his skin. Arthur had given him two choices, but being the victim he could clearly say that one didn’t have the energy to think through what was going on. When he wanted to open his mouth, he quickly closed it again, and when he had it closed, he opened it again. But no matter what he did, the pain felt greater than before.
In the end he couldn’t keep his lips together. Arthur had his head wrenched backwards so hard that his mouth fell naturally open, and the fine stream of liquid hit straight into his mouth. He had to swallow, else it hurt too much, and as seconds - feeling like hours - passed by, he was slowly drinking all the tea from the teapot.
Arthur couldn’t help but smile as his colony gave up and started to drink his good tea. This was how it should be, Alfred obeying him like the good child he still was.
“That’s it, Alfred,” he encouraged him, “what a good boy you are. Keep swallowing.” He leaned a little to the side so that he could watch Alfred’s throat tighten and loosen up with each gulp he took. His cheeks were glowing red, burning, tears were flowing from his eyes. It looked so pretty. Still holding the pot high, he leaned in and licked the tip of his tongue slowly up across Alfred’s cheek to his eyes, tasting the salty tears and spilled tea. Alfred cringed, but he couldn’t get away.
The teapot was emptying. Arthur could feel how the weight dropped, and suddenly there were no more tea. He shook the empty pot a few times, drops of tea randomly flowing through the air. Then he placed it on the ground and grabbed around Alfred’s head, lifted it and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyelids, his nose and then his lips.
“Have you learned to behave?” he mumbled against his lips. Alfred’s head was heavy between his hands, and he almost had to make him nod himself, moving it up and down. “Now, thank me for teaching you a lesson.” Alfred opened his mouth, but his swollen tongue would hardly move, and the American choked and whined lowly.
“Thh…” He hiccupped and opened his eyes a little. It was the gaze of the defeated that met Arthur, “Thh.. Anks…”
“Thanks, what?”
“Th… anks… Arthur…”
“Kirkland.”
“Kirkh…” Alfred couldn’t. He broke down in tears. Arthur dropped his head to the ground and got up. Alfred curled into a little ball, crying and shaking and covering his head behind his hands. Arthur swallowed the spit in his mouth and looked away.
“We’ll be drinking tea again tomorrow. I expect of you to be in a suit and be on time.” He got no answer. He couldn’t make himself force one out of Alfred. Instead he picked up the teapot, the plates that hadn’t been shattered as Alfred tipped the table over, and then he went inside to continue his calm day off with a little embroidering.
In the end he couldn’t keep his lips together. Arthur had his head wrenched backwards so hard that his mouth fell naturally open, and the fine stream of liquid hit straight into his mouth. He had to swallow, else it hurt too much, and as seconds - feeling like hours - passed by, he was slowly drinking all the tea from the teapot.
Arthur couldn’t help but smile as his colony gave up and started to drink his good tea. This was how it should be, Alfred obeying him like the good child he still was.
“That’s it, Alfred,” he encouraged him, “what a good boy you are. Keep swallowing.” He leaned a little to the side so that he could watch Alfred’s throat tighten and loosen up with each gulp he took. His cheeks were glowing red, burning, tears were flowing from his eyes. It looked so pretty. Still holding the pot high, he leaned in and licked the tip of his tongue slowly up across Alfred’s cheek to his eyes, tasting the salty tears and spilled tea. Alfred cringed, but he couldn’t get away.
The teapot was emptying. Arthur could feel how the weight dropped, and suddenly there were no more tea. He shook the empty pot a few times, drops of tea randomly flowing through the air. Then he placed it on the ground and grabbed around Alfred’s head, lifted it and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyelids, his nose and then his lips.
“Have you learned to behave?” he mumbled against his lips. Alfred’s head was heavy between his hands, and he almost had to make him nod himself, moving it up and down. “Now, thank me for teaching you a lesson.” Alfred opened his mouth, but his swollen tongue would hardly move, and the American choked and whined lowly.
“Thh…” He hiccupped and opened his eyes a little. It was the gaze of the defeated that met Arthur, “Thh.. Anks…”
“Thanks, what?”
“Th… anks… Arthur…”
“Kirkland.”
“Kirkh…” Alfred couldn’t. He broke down in tears. Arthur dropped his head to the ground and got up. Alfred curled into a little ball, crying and shaking and covering his head behind his hands. Arthur swallowed the spit in his mouth and looked away.
“We’ll be drinking tea again tomorrow. I expect of you to be in a suit and be on time.” He got no answer. He couldn’t make himself force one out of Alfred. Instead he picked up the teapot, the plates that hadn’t been shattered as Alfred tipped the table over, and then he went inside to continue his calm day off with a little embroidering.
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America was being a hell of a brat, but he certainly didn`t deserve that. Poor bunny. T_T
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