Re: Liet Gets Drunk: Russia/Lithuania
anonymous
April 6 2010, 00:29:42 UTC
“Sit.”
The Russian gave the order in the way one might speak to a dog, grasping the smaller man's shoulders and forcing him down onto the wooden kitchen chair. Toris didn't move, his eyes darting around the room nervously, wondering exactly what trouble he was in this time.
Ivan rummaged around in one of the kitchen cupboards and a moment later slammed two glasses and a bottle of vodka down in front of the timid brunette. He poured one glass and grabbed Toris' wrist, shoving it into his hand.
“What shall we toast to?” he asked with a faint smile on his face. The Lithuanian looked at him in frightened confusion.
“Um...what...” he cleared his throat. “I don't...understand.”
“I'm bored,” Ivan said simply, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Let us pass the time by drinking together.”
“I...I...don't...” Toris glanced from the glass in his hand, to the deceptively benign face of his captor and long-time tormentor and his shoulder slumped. There was no choice in the matter anyway, so what was the point in telling the Russian that he didn't drink, that he hated the smell of vodka, that it made him feel queasy. Ivan already knew these things.
“Drink, Toris.” It might have been phrased as a friendly suggestion but Toris knew better than to argue. In one desperate motion he drained the contents of his glass, swallowing the burning liquid before coughing and spluttering, tears appearing at the corners of his eyes.
Ivan's smile grew wider and he poured a measure for himself, downing it easily before refilling both cups. “Again.”
The Lithuanian grasped the glass and put it to his lips determinedly, flinching a little at the smell. One measure was more than enough, as far as he was concerned. But he knocked it back, feeling the rush of artificial warmth in his stomach. For a moment, he thought he understood why Ivan drank the stuff so much. The fiery sensation it produced in him was a welcome change from the perpetual cold of the Russian's house.
“More.” Ivan refilled his glass. Toris downed it obediently.
It wasn't so bad, he thought to himself. His head was starting to swim a little and the harsh spirit made him feel as though he wanted to choke but he felt warmer than he had in such a long time. Maybe even a little relaxed. They continued in this vein, shot after shot, silence apart from the Russian's continued orders to keep drinking.
He was starting to feel strangely sick now, his cheeks burning and his vision swimming. Gradually, over the course of their silent little drinking session Toris found himself staring more and more intently into the violet eyes of his captor, found himself fixating on that brutally childlike little smile on his lips. The taste of the vodka on his tongue made him think of all the times Ivan had claimed his mouth with his own, how impotently angry that made him, how he hated the Russia and hated himself and hated his own need and...
“You're a bastard,” Toris blurted out, his head lolling a little to one side. He propped his elbows on the desk and rested his face in his hands. “I hate you.”
Drinking Buddies Part 2/??
anonymous
April 6 2010, 00:32:27 UTC
(It seems I failed on putting the title in the last post...)
Ivan raised an eyebrow. He was barely tipsy, having a much stronger constitution than the younger nation and a vague amusement played about his face. “You hurt my feelings,” he said gently, and Toris blithely ignored the warning in his voice.
“I want to go home...” Toris slurred, “You can't keep me here. I'll...I'll...I'll kill myself.”
At that moment his arms slipped and he slumped forward on the desk with a start, his chin hitting the wooden table. He looked up at Ivan through double vision, his bright green eyes accusing and petulant.
“Such silly, childish threats,” Ivan admonished. “You know I can't let that slide, don't you, Toris.”
The drunk young man snorted sarcastically. “Oh yeah...cause s'for my own good, right?” He started to giggle irrationally. “You gotta punish me...you always gotta...” He got to his feet then, shaky and unsteady, before his legs buckled a little and he grabbed the table for support. Ivan was behind him in an instant, holding him up. The brunette turned to face him, wrapping his arms sloppily around his neck and fixing his upturned gaze in a glare. “S'for my own good, right?” he repeated in a slur. “S'not cause you get off on it, riiight”?
Ivan said nothing, supporting the younger man's weight in his arms, simply observing the curious behaviour of his paralytically drunk house servant.
“I know you do...” the Lithuanian continued with a harsh little laugh, pushing his mouth against Ivan's ear. “You can say what you want, Vanya...but the...th'truth is...you're just a fuckin' pervert...s'all...”
“Then that makes you a whore,” Ivan replied evenly. “Because you indulge me so very obediently.”
“Don't have a choice...” Toris shrugged, swaying on his feet.
“But you like it,” The Russian's voice was like slow treacle in the younger man's ear, his breath hot on his cheek. “My dirty little Litva.”
Toris looked up sharply. “It's Lietuvos,” he snapped.
“It's whatever I tell you it is,” Ivan said abruptly, before twisting Toris around and pushing him forward over the table. His hand wandered to the smaller nation's trousers, ripping off his belt, undoing the fly and pulling them to his ankles in one fell, practised movement. “So tell me, my dearest Toris. Should I beat you, fuck you, or both?”
“Don't care...” Toris slurred, “Do what you want...you always do anyway...”
Ivan ran a contemplative hand over the younger man's backside, bringing goosebumps out on the skin in the cold air of the kitchen. He watched the younger man begin to struggle reflexly. Toris' breathing quickened and the Russian smiled widely, keeping him pressed to the table.
“Tell me what you want, Toris.”
“I don't want...” the Lithuanian's protestations were cut short as Ivan slipped one hand between his legs. He involuntarily opened them, giving the Russian access to his slowly-hardening member. He ran his hand up and down the shaft in delicate, teasing strokes, and Toris whimpered a little.
“Tell me what you want,” Ivan repeated softly as the Lithuanian squirmed desperately beneath his touch. There was a moan of desperate arousal from his quarry but no verbal response. The Russian let out a long sigh and let go, withdrawing his touch and releasing his hold on Toris.
Still sprawled across the table, trousers at his ankles, the Lithuanian let out a frustrated moan in spite of himself.
Re: Drinking Buddies Part 3/??
anonymous
April 6 2010, 00:34:11 UTC
“It's alright, Toris,” Ivan laughed gently. “If you don't want me to take you, then just say so.”
“Fuck you...!” Toris exclaimed angrily, his cheeks flushed and his erection still embarrassingly prominent. He was aching for the Russian's touch now and hated himself for it.
“That language is appalling, my dear friend,” Ivan replied with his characteristically soft rebuke, pulling Toris towards him and taking his chin in one hand, letting his other brush lightly against the Lithuanian's swollen member. “Are you so desperate for me to punish you?”
“Go to the devil!” his subordinate spat back at him, his cheeks flushed as he found his hips moving involuntarily, thrusting against the taller nation, nuzzling his cheek desperately into Ivan's rough hand. He was a drunken mess, torn between his blazing anger and his overwhelming, shameful need. “You can't do this...you always do this...! You treat me like a dog!”
Ivan laughed delightedly, continuing to tease him. “Then perhaps you shouldn't be acting like a bitch in heat, da?” Toris responded with a throaty moan, his amusing little resistance cracking with every moment.
“I hate you...” he murmured again half heartedly, even as he bucked against Ivan's touch. The Russian slipped one of his fingers into his half-open mouth and Toris began to suck it greedily.
“You still haven't told me what you want,” Ivan told him, shoving a second finger in his mouth and moving his hand up to the brunette's chest, opening his buttons one by one and brushing his nails over the pale skin.
“Mmmph...” With his mouth full, the Lithuanian could only moan helplessly as Ivan withdrew his touch. He pushed his hips against the larger man's leg, desperate now for release.
“Like a bitch in heat,” Ivan repeated softly, moving his hand around to cup Toris' ass. He whispered in the younger man's ear. “You want me, don't you?”
“Mmmmhmmmph...” Toris nodded frantically and Ivan freed his mouth, a little trail of saliva escaping past his fingers and dripping down the Lithuanian's chin. “Take me...Vanya...” he mumbled, his eyes half closed and his inhibitions utterly destroyed by the alcohol in his bloodstream.
Ivan turned him over again, pushing him back down onto the table. “Are you sure?” he said, his voice quietly mocking, “I thought you said you hated me.”
“I don't care...I'm sorry...just take me!”
Ivan undid his own trousers swiftly, pushing his erection to the younger man's opening. Toris spread his legs compliantly, pushing back against him. As the Russian entered him with a brutal thrust, he pushed the smaller man's face against the wood of the table.
“What are you, Litva?” he demanded as he thrust into him.
“Y...yours...” Toris cried out, his breathing punctuated with desperate moans.
“And?” Ivan rammed into him harder, causing the Lithuanian to squeal. “What else...?”
“I...I...don't know...I...urgh..!” he let out a strangled cry as the larger man's hand closed around his aching erection and began to pump it up and down in time with his thrusts. “Y...your bitch...!” he blurted out, alcohol and lust loosening his tongue and overriding the humiliation and shame he felt even as tears spilled from his cheeks. The Lithuanian was desperate for release now, his head swimming. The only thing he could coherently think of was his overwhelming need to come, to come with Ivan inside of him.
“Good boy...” Ivan soothed, twining his free hand through Toris' soft brown hair and jerking his head back viciously as he emptied himself inside the smaller man with one terse grunt. “Good boy...”
Re: Drinking Buddies Part 4/4
anonymous
April 6 2010, 00:35:04 UTC
He pulled out and Toris lay shaking there for a moment, his back beaded with cold sweat, his skin tingling as he whimpered with frustration. “Vanya, please...” he begged, tears pricking his eyes.
“That was nice, was it not?” Ivan murmured happily, leaning over to plant a kiss on Toris' flushed cheek.
“Please...” Toris pushed himself to his feet, wrapping himself around the older man, pushing himself against him, his lips seeking his. “I need to..I need to come...please...” he whined.
“Tsk, tsk...” Ivan's tongue probed his trembling lips, before looking down at Toris and shaking his head. “After such dreadful language...I think not.” The brunette let out a strangled whimper at this, clutching at the other man's chest and looking up at him with enormous, pleading eyes.
“You can't...leave me like this!” Toris exclaimed desperately.
“Come, little one, you are too bold tonight,” he laughed. “It's time you sobered up. You can sleep on the floor beside my bed tonight, just like the dog you so desperately want to be.” He placed one finger under the smaller man's chin and tilted the flushed and troubled face up towards his own with a happy little chuckle. “Perhaps tomorrow we get you a collar, da?”
Re: Drinking Buddies Part 4/4
anonymous
April 6 2010, 02:24:58 UTC
And so goes the unfortunate implications of Lithuania's name.... (Toris is a name for dogs, but I'm sure you already knew that.)
I liked the way you wrote it. I can't say much for the content because I don't like prompts like these, but you filled it very well. One grammar mistake was when Lithuania says his name is Lietuvos. That would be true only if he said Lietuvos respublika. I hope I spelled it right. Left alone, the correct case is Lietuva. But don't worry because Lithuanian is sorta hard to get right away due to the cases. ^__^ Otherwise, I think you showed Russia's partial insanity and Liet's drinking habits realistically. I see Liet as the kind of guy who wouldn't drink very often, too.
*Hugs Liet and helps him come when Russia's not looking* Sorry, I just love this boy so much. I could never leave him like that.
Recaptcha: kolker evacuated - That's right, recaptcha! Remove Russia from the premises so I can help Liet come
Re: Drinking Buddies Part 4/4
anonymous
April 8 2010, 23:58:21 UTC
I agree with the previous anon about Liet's drinking habits. That's a nice little character detail, right there.
Now, I do like prompts like these, and I have to say that it was the last section that really made it. Lithuania was a bit OC to me at points, even with the alcohol, though he had to be for the kinks you chose to focus on - it threw me a little, but all was forgotten in the face of that orgasm denial. The last three paragraphs specifically were full of such delicious condescension, and the head tilt and the image of Lithuania curled up on the floor, desperately aroused and increasingly ashamed as he sobers up, are so. fucking. attractive. So, yeah. You got my motor running. Thank you, anon!
The Russian gave the order in the way one might speak to a dog, grasping the smaller man's shoulders and forcing him down onto the wooden kitchen chair. Toris didn't move, his eyes darting around the room nervously, wondering exactly what trouble he was in this time.
Ivan rummaged around in one of the kitchen cupboards and a moment later slammed two glasses and a bottle of vodka down in front of the timid brunette. He poured one glass and grabbed Toris' wrist, shoving it into his hand.
“What shall we toast to?” he asked with a faint smile on his face. The Lithuanian looked at him in frightened confusion.
“Um...what...” he cleared his throat. “I don't...understand.”
“I'm bored,” Ivan said simply, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Let us pass the time by drinking together.”
“I...I...don't...” Toris glanced from the glass in his hand, to the deceptively benign face of his captor and long-time tormentor and his shoulder slumped. There was no choice in the matter anyway, so what was the point in telling the Russian that he didn't drink, that he hated the smell of vodka, that it made him feel queasy. Ivan already knew these things.
“Drink, Toris.” It might have been phrased as a friendly suggestion but Toris knew better than to argue. In one desperate motion he drained the contents of his glass, swallowing the burning liquid before coughing and spluttering, tears appearing at the corners of his eyes.
Ivan's smile grew wider and he poured a measure for himself, downing it easily before refilling both cups. “Again.”
The Lithuanian grasped the glass and put it to his lips determinedly, flinching a little at the smell. One measure was more than enough, as far as he was concerned. But he knocked it back, feeling the rush of artificial warmth in his stomach. For a moment, he thought he understood why Ivan drank the stuff so much. The fiery sensation it produced in him was a welcome change from the perpetual cold of the Russian's house.
“More.” Ivan refilled his glass. Toris downed it obediently.
It wasn't so bad, he thought to himself. His head was starting to swim a little and the harsh spirit made him feel as though he wanted to choke but he felt warmer than he had in such a long time. Maybe even a little relaxed. They continued in this vein, shot after shot, silence apart from the Russian's continued orders to keep drinking.
He was starting to feel strangely sick now, his cheeks burning and his vision swimming. Gradually, over the course of their silent little drinking session Toris found himself staring more and more intently into the violet eyes of his captor, found himself fixating on that brutally childlike little smile on his lips. The taste of the vodka on his tongue made him think of all the times Ivan had claimed his mouth with his own, how impotently angry that made him, how he hated the Russia and hated himself and hated his own need and...
“You're a bastard,” Toris blurted out, his head lolling a little to one side. He propped his elbows on the desk and rested his face in his hands. “I hate you.”
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Ivan raised an eyebrow. He was barely tipsy, having a much stronger constitution than the younger nation and a vague amusement played about his face. “You hurt my feelings,” he said gently, and Toris blithely ignored the warning in his voice.
“I want to go home...” Toris slurred, “You can't keep me here. I'll...I'll...I'll kill myself.”
At that moment his arms slipped and he slumped forward on the desk with a start, his chin hitting the wooden table. He looked up at Ivan through double vision, his bright green eyes accusing and petulant.
“Such silly, childish threats,” Ivan admonished. “You know I can't let that slide, don't you, Toris.”
The drunk young man snorted sarcastically. “Oh yeah...cause s'for my own good, right?” He started to giggle irrationally. “You gotta punish me...you always gotta...” He got to his feet then, shaky and unsteady, before his legs buckled a little and he grabbed the table for support. Ivan was behind him in an instant, holding him up. The brunette turned to face him, wrapping his arms sloppily around his neck and fixing his upturned gaze in a glare. “S'for my own good, right?” he repeated in a slur. “S'not cause you get off on it, riiight”?
Ivan said nothing, supporting the younger man's weight in his arms, simply observing the curious behaviour of his paralytically drunk house servant.
“I know you do...” the Lithuanian continued with a harsh little laugh, pushing his mouth against Ivan's ear. “You can say what you want, Vanya...but the...th'truth is...you're just a fuckin' pervert...s'all...”
“Then that makes you a whore,” Ivan replied evenly. “Because you indulge me so very obediently.”
“Don't have a choice...” Toris shrugged, swaying on his feet.
“But you like it,” The Russian's voice was like slow treacle in the younger man's ear, his breath hot on his cheek. “My dirty little Litva.”
Toris looked up sharply. “It's Lietuvos,” he snapped.
“It's whatever I tell you it is,” Ivan said abruptly, before twisting Toris around and pushing him forward over the table. His hand wandered to the smaller nation's trousers, ripping off his belt, undoing the fly and pulling them to his ankles in one fell, practised movement. “So tell me, my dearest Toris. Should I beat you, fuck you, or both?”
“Don't care...” Toris slurred, “Do what you want...you always do anyway...”
Ivan ran a contemplative hand over the younger man's backside, bringing goosebumps out on the skin in the cold air of the kitchen. He watched the younger man begin to struggle reflexly. Toris' breathing quickened and the Russian smiled widely, keeping him pressed to the table.
“Tell me what you want, Toris.”
“I don't want...” the Lithuanian's protestations were cut short as Ivan slipped one hand between his legs. He involuntarily opened them, giving the Russian access to his slowly-hardening member. He ran his hand up and down the shaft in delicate, teasing strokes, and Toris whimpered a little.
“Tell me what you want,” Ivan repeated softly as the Lithuanian squirmed desperately beneath his touch. There was a moan of desperate arousal from his quarry but no verbal response. The Russian let out a long sigh and let go, withdrawing his touch and releasing his hold on Toris.
Still sprawled across the table, trousers at his ankles, the Lithuanian let out a frustrated moan in spite of himself.
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“Fuck you...!” Toris exclaimed angrily, his cheeks flushed and his erection still embarrassingly prominent. He was aching for the Russian's touch now and hated himself for it.
“That language is appalling, my dear friend,” Ivan replied with his characteristically soft rebuke, pulling Toris towards him and taking his chin in one hand, letting his other brush lightly against the Lithuanian's swollen member. “Are you so desperate for me to punish you?”
“Go to the devil!” his subordinate spat back at him, his cheeks flushed as he found his hips moving involuntarily, thrusting against the taller nation, nuzzling his cheek desperately into Ivan's rough hand. He was a drunken mess, torn between his blazing anger and his overwhelming, shameful need. “You can't do this...you always do this...! You treat me like a dog!”
Ivan laughed delightedly, continuing to tease him. “Then perhaps you shouldn't be acting like a bitch in heat, da?” Toris responded with a throaty moan, his amusing little resistance cracking with every moment.
“I hate you...” he murmured again half heartedly, even as he bucked against Ivan's touch. The Russian slipped one of his fingers into his half-open mouth and Toris began to suck it greedily.
“You still haven't told me what you want,” Ivan told him, shoving a second finger in his mouth and moving his hand up to the brunette's chest, opening his buttons one by one and brushing his nails over the pale skin.
“Mmmph...” With his mouth full, the Lithuanian could only moan helplessly as Ivan withdrew his touch. He pushed his hips against the larger man's leg, desperate now for release.
“Like a bitch in heat,” Ivan repeated softly, moving his hand around to cup Toris' ass. He whispered in the younger man's ear. “You want me, don't you?”
“Mmmmhmmmph...” Toris nodded frantically and Ivan freed his mouth, a little trail of saliva escaping past his fingers and dripping down the Lithuanian's chin. “Take me...Vanya...” he mumbled, his eyes half closed and his inhibitions utterly destroyed by the alcohol in his bloodstream.
Ivan turned him over again, pushing him back down onto the table. “Are you sure?” he said, his voice quietly mocking, “I thought you said you hated me.”
“I don't care...I'm sorry...just take me!”
Ivan undid his own trousers swiftly, pushing his erection to the younger man's opening. Toris spread his legs compliantly, pushing back against him. As the Russian entered him with a brutal thrust, he pushed the smaller man's face against the wood of the table.
“What are you, Litva?” he demanded as he thrust into him.
“Y...yours...” Toris cried out, his breathing punctuated with desperate moans.
“And?” Ivan rammed into him harder, causing the Lithuanian to squeal. “What else...?”
“I...I...don't know...I...urgh..!” he let out a strangled cry as the larger man's hand closed around his aching erection and began to pump it up and down in time with his thrusts. “Y...your bitch...!” he blurted out, alcohol and lust loosening his tongue and overriding the humiliation and shame he felt even as tears spilled from his cheeks. The Lithuanian was desperate for release now, his head swimming. The only thing he could coherently think of was his overwhelming need to come, to come with Ivan inside of him.
“Good boy...” Ivan soothed, twining his free hand through Toris' soft brown hair and jerking his head back viciously as he emptied himself inside the smaller man with one terse grunt. “Good boy...”
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“That was nice, was it not?” Ivan murmured happily, leaning over to plant a kiss on Toris' flushed cheek.
“Please...” Toris pushed himself to his feet, wrapping himself around the older man, pushing himself against him, his lips seeking his. “I need to..I need to come...please...” he whined.
“Tsk, tsk...” Ivan's tongue probed his trembling lips, before looking down at Toris and shaking his head. “After such dreadful language...I think not.” The brunette let out a strangled whimper at this, clutching at the other man's chest and looking up at him with enormous, pleading eyes.
“You can't...leave me like this!” Toris exclaimed desperately.
“Come, little one, you are too bold tonight,” he laughed. “It's time you sobered up. You can sleep on the floor beside my bed tonight, just like the dog you so desperately want to be.” He placed one finger under the smaller man's chin and tilted the flushed and troubled face up towards his own with a happy little chuckle. “Perhaps tomorrow we get you a collar, da?”
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I liked the way you wrote it. I can't say much for the content because I don't like prompts like these, but you filled it very well. One grammar mistake was when Lithuania says his name is Lietuvos. That would be true only if he said Lietuvos respublika. I hope I spelled it right. Left alone, the correct case is Lietuva. But don't worry because Lithuanian is sorta hard to get right away due to the cases. ^__^ Otherwise, I think you showed Russia's partial insanity and Liet's drinking habits realistically. I see Liet as the kind of guy who wouldn't drink very often, too.
*Hugs Liet and helps him come when Russia's not looking* Sorry, I just love this boy so much. I could never leave him like that.
Recaptcha: kolker evacuated - That's right, recaptcha! Remove Russia from the premises so I can help Liet come
Reply
Now, I do like prompts like these, and I have to say that it was the last section that really made it. Lithuania was a bit OC to me at points, even with the alcohol, though he had to be for the kinks you chose to focus on - it threw me a little, but all was forgotten in the face of that orgasm denial. The last three paragraphs specifically were full of such delicious condescension, and the head tilt and the image of Lithuania curled up on the floor, desperately aroused and increasingly ashamed as he sobers up, are so. fucking. attractive.
So, yeah. You got my motor running. Thank you, anon!
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