Gorgeous [Part 1/?]
anonymous
February 6 2010, 06:38:02 UTC
(This is my first time responding to a fill, as well as my first time writing anything of the APH fandom. My apologies if this turns out crappy!)
---
The texture of a thick rope knotted to bind his hands together behind his back, was the first thing Arthur became aware of as he came to. This was shortly followed by the intoxicating scent of leather, a draft of cool air on his (alarmingly) naked body, and the distinct, overwhelming presence of darkness even as he blinked his eyes open. As he struggled to sit up from where he had been toppled over on his side, the Englishman judged that wherever he was, the floors and walls had been constructed of concrete - likely a basement or cellar of some kind. Above him, the sound of footsteps grew from silence, increasing in resonance until they abruptly ceased.
Arthur's hearing strained as he heard something faint, like the scratch of an ancient lock and key, then the groan of a heavy door as it opened to permit it's user's passage. With the action, a shaft of light filtered down into the concrete room Arthur found himself in. It was a faint light, but just enough to make out his surroundings.
For the most part, the room was cluttered with an array of old forgotten objects - a chest over-flowing with clothing that appeared to have been worn only a few times before being discarded, a box of beat up old toys that could be reused with a little refurbishing, and an antique musket, it's bayonet still attached. All had appeared to be discarded without care and had appeared to have been down in the room - no, Arthur corrected himself, it was now definitely a cellar - for an extensive amount of time. Yet now that he recalled it, something appeared familiar about several of the items. Like that suit in the chest of clothing. Hadn't he seen that on someone, somewhere, at some point in time? Or those toy soldiers tumbling out of the box of toys. They were definitely of English make, he could tell by eye alone. And that musket...
No. It couldn't be.
"You awake yet, Iggy?"
Alfred.
Questions of 'why?' and 'how?' and 'what the hell?' flitted in and out of the Briton's mind before he finally managed to bark out a response doused in growing confusion and some frustration. "Just what in the bloody hell is going on here, Alfred? Not only am I naked in your cellar of all places, but I am tied up in the dark. Explain yourself, immediately!"
It was at that point that Arthur realized that a) it was once again obscenely dark in the cellar as the door above was closed, and b) had he heard an unnatural amount of squeaking as the American nation descended the aged, sighing staircase that he had spotted leading down into the concrete area?
Before he could think on it too much, the English nation hissed and flinched as the cellar light suddenly came on, it's bright light piercing the green eyes that had already gotten used to the bleakness of the subterranean dark. When at last his eyes came to and adjusted to the light, the first thing he saw as he glanced up was Alfred.
Alfred, who had somehow kidnapped him from his summer cottage in Kent and transported him to his cellar in the United States of America. Alfred who, for some odd reason, remained addicted to McDonalds hamburgers since the day the McDonald brothers first produced them, and must surely have gained countless pound from his continual consumption of such filth.
Alfred who at that very moment was standing little more than three feet away, wearing a form-fitting leather vest decorated with countless silver tie-down rings and other baubles, with a sinfully tight pair of leather pants and military-styled black boots to match. --- (Explaination and the smexin's to come tomorrow. I have a baby shower to attend, so it probably won't be up until later. Hope you enjoy this [short] first part. Sorry it's so blah so far!)
Gorgeous [Part 2/?]
anonymous
February 7 2010, 09:56:46 UTC
"Wh-what in the Queen's name are you wearing, Alfred?"
"Don't you like it?" The younger nation took a second to twist side to side, making sure to show off the entirety of his outfit - 'Not to mention that shapely arse of his...' Arthur flushed at the thought that came unbidden, preferring rather to struggle against his binds as Alfred continued, "I've had it for aaaaages, but tonight, Iggy...Tonight is special."
"Well that is all well and good, Alfred, but I do not see what your evening has to do with my being tied up, starkers no less, in your storage room."
"Clearly you haven't taken a closer look at my 'storage room', Iggy. Go on, take a looks-ie."
Further examination revealed that the cellar was not just a haven for discarded bits and baubles forgotten by time. Along the opposite wall facing the Briton were rows upon rows of sex toys, bondage whips, metal restraints and countless gleaming leashes to match a small collection of various styled 'Bottom' collars.
Casting his gaze away from the intimidating wall of torturous - or were they deliciously splendid? A faint throb in Arthur's groin made him reconsider - toys, the gleam of a steel suspension bar as it swayed in an invisible breeze caught the British nations attention. That too was pointedly glanced past, however, when he spotted the more menacing aspects of the cellar-turned-sex dungeon.
Pressed against the far left wall, held to the concrete foundation with thick iron bolts and adjacent to various leather kink harnesses, was a glistening black St. Andrews Cross, leering at him, taunting him with fantasies of sex and domination outside the norm of twisted bedsheets and cum-stained clothing.
Without intention, Arthur felt his cock twitch, his arousal growing as he turned back to Alfred, who had taken to kneeling down in front of him.
"Ya wanna know why tonight's so special, Arthur?"
Mutely, - and against his better judgment - the Englishman nodded. Alfred grinned at this, taking the others jaw into his hand and shaking it as he positively purred, "It's because tonight, I'm going to fuck you, Arthur Kirkland. Just like I've wanted to do for ages."
The American leaned into the Briton, at first nuzzling the skin of his throat, then peppering kisses up along his jaw until his lips hovered over Arthur's own, eyes darting between the slightly chapped skin and always alluring green eyes. A lascivious grin spread across Alfred's face as he chose instead to turn his lips to the older man's ear, hot breath moistening already flushed skin as he whispered softly, voice ripe with longing;
"Doesn't that sound fun, Arty? Doesn't that just make you want to beg for it? To be tied up, beaten, used and abused until you're ready to explode?"
A soft moan accompanied the youngers voice, the movement of one of Alfred's hands drifting down to massage lightly at his own leather-encased groin, catching Arthur's attention.
His mouth went dry then, all thoughts of halting the young nation's bizarre game went flying out the window as Alfred's breath shortened into a faint panting staccato in his ear.
"You've no idea how bad I want this, Arthur. The real question, though," Blue eyes were suddenly bearing down on him, hands squeezing his shoulders and pressing him hard against the wall as the American finished, "is whether you want it, too.
Re: Gorgeous [Part 2/?]
anonymous
February 8 2010, 08:38:58 UTC
writer!anon, here~ I'll be getting the next part up after I get up and write it later this morning. Thanks for your comments; I always love to see responses. x3
As it is, I'll be updating (hopefully) every day until the fill is done. Never fear, the whips, chains and denials are near!
Gorgeous [Part 2b/?]
anonymous
February 9 2010, 08:24:39 UTC
"Al-Alfred..."
Already half-hard, Arthur's eyes rolled back as Alfred reached between them and took the elder nation's cock in a firm grip. Stroking slowly, at leisure, the Briton's former colony-turned-superpower chuckled warmly, "I'll take that as a yes."
Before he could stir up a response. - although something was certainly responding quite well already - Arthur found his voice muffled by Alfred's mouth as he devoured him in a bruising yet patient kiss. The younger took his time to feather the others lips with his tongue until he was permitted entry, then taking the opportunity presented to lazily prod the other's tongue into action. For a brief second the two fought for dominance, before Arthur at last submitted to the others will and allowed Alfred to lead the heady open-mouthed kiss.
When at last they broke apart for air, a strand of spit connected their lips, breaking when Alfred lowered his gaze and his ministrations to pressing hard bites along Arthur's clavicle, soothing the reddened flesh with a lick each time.
"Alfred...the rope...Please."
He need not have said more, as Alfred expertly un-tied the knotted rope that secured the Englishman's hands behind his back. Blood quickly flowed into the numb limbs as the cordage slipped boneless-ly to the ground, and bringing his hands around, Arthur noted with displeasure the raw red skin of his wrists.
There was little time for him to contemplate that, though, as Alfred pulled away from him and strolled to the opposing wall, fingers running over the surfaces of various toys before plucking from a hook two matching pairs of silver handcuffs. He swaggered as he strode back towards Arthur, who was then on his knees, and pulled the older nation to his feet in a single swift motion. Chest to chest, the thrumming of Arthur's heart pounding over his leather-clad breast, Alfred snapped the cuffs open and positively leered at his assumed 'victim'.
"Hey, Iggy?"
"Y-yes, Alfred?"
"Before I begin, there's just one thing I need to know..."
A pause, and then, "Are you a screamer?"
------ A/N: Sorry for the short update. Just needed to get this out there so I didn't keep you waiting. Next update coming late today (Feb.9)!
reCaptcha: Lover khartoum -> So that's what they're callin' bondage dungeons these days...
Gorgeous [Part 3/?]
anonymous
February 10 2010, 08:23:29 UTC
--------------
He wasn't quite sure how Arthur had managed to reverse their positions. One moment, he was about to snap the cuffs over the older man's wrists and have his wicked way with him, and then in a blur of movement, it was he who was cuffed and spread out for the Englishman's hungry eyes to devour.
Perhaps he had assumed too little of the Briton's abilities in his old age.
Cuffed to the suspended steel bar, the cellar's low roof and his height giving him enough slack to stand comfortably while still being kept thoroughly in check by his shackles, Alfred cocked his head ponderously and gazed at Arthur from afar and the latter browsed the wall of sex toys. Painfully hard beneath the severe tightness of his leather slacks, the American felt his pulse spike each time the Briton's fingers lingered over a plug, dildo or vibrator, before he seemed to decide against said object and moved on to something else.
He felt his blood burn and cock strain achingly when the British nation came away from the wall, a dildo plug and adjustable metal cock-ring in one hand, a heavy leather whip in the other. There was no point in trying to convince the other to switch roles again; something about the swagger in Arthur's step told Alfred that the other had once again taken to the ruthless abandon that had been a keystone in his pirating years.
Shoving the hard handle of the whip between his teeth, thereby freeing up a hand, Arthur made short work of tearing open the American's straining leather confines, fingers dancing briefly over the head of the others cock - drawing a soft moan - before sliding the metal cock-ring over the hot flesh and tightening it to an almost painful degree.
"Ah...Arthur, I think it's a bit t-tight!"
His response was merely a grin and a rough pat on the cheek as Arthur pulled the whip out of his mouth and pulled away to examine his handiwork. "Mmm, no. I think it's just right, love."
It wasn't long before his pants were pooled at his ankles and the dry head of the dildo plug was being longingly eased into the crevice of his buttocks. When it's blunt end prodded at his entrance without falter, pushing past the tight ring of muscle, Alfred stiffened, panting though the pain of non-lubricated penetration. Whispering sweet nothings into Alfred's ear, - "Relax, love. Be a big boy for Daddy; Daddy loves you." - Arthur pushed the plug in further until the flat base halted it's course and maintained the parting of the younger nation's buttocks. He repeated the motions several times over, until Alfred was twitching and panting with pleasure rather than pain.
It was then that the Englishman stepped back two or three paces, fingers running through the tapered strands that made up the tail of the whip. As if picturing what he was about to do in his mind, the British nation moaned and ground the hilt of the whip into his groin for a tantalizing second before regaining his composure and correcting his aim. Only the faint whistle of leather cutting through air gave Alfred any indication that the first flog was coming.
The pain was vivid, but strayed away from being severe. In his conscientious nature, Arthur couldn't bear to inflict severe harm on his most beloved former colony - and lover - despite the game they currently played. Still, the strike was hard enough to cause Alfred to cry out, to sting and mark the man with faint pink lines that spoke without voice 'You are mine. Do not forget this.'
Re: Gorgeous [Part 3/?]
anonymous
February 10 2010, 10:15:43 UTC
I really really liked this fill.
Now I worship it.
OH ARTHUR, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD YOU. Somehow, him biting down on the whip and then pleasuring himself with the handle made me hotter than anything. *pants* Oh please some more, anon!
---
The texture of a thick rope knotted to bind his hands together behind his back, was the first thing Arthur became aware of as he came to. This was shortly followed by the intoxicating scent of leather, a draft of cool air on his (alarmingly) naked body, and the distinct, overwhelming presence of darkness even as he blinked his eyes open. As he struggled to sit up from where he had been toppled over on his side, the Englishman judged that wherever he was, the floors and walls had been constructed of concrete - likely a basement or cellar of some kind. Above him, the sound of footsteps grew from silence, increasing in resonance until they abruptly ceased.
Arthur's hearing strained as he heard something faint, like the scratch of an ancient lock and key, then the groan of a heavy door as it opened to permit it's user's passage. With the action, a shaft of light filtered down into the concrete room Arthur found himself in. It was a faint light, but just enough to make out his surroundings.
For the most part, the room was cluttered with an array of old forgotten objects - a chest over-flowing with clothing that appeared to have been worn only a few times before being discarded, a box of beat up old toys that could be reused with a little refurbishing, and an antique musket, it's bayonet still attached. All had appeared to be discarded without care and had appeared to have been down in the room - no, Arthur corrected himself, it was now definitely a cellar - for an extensive amount of time. Yet now that he recalled it, something appeared familiar about several of the items. Like that suit in the chest of clothing. Hadn't he seen that on someone, somewhere, at some point in time? Or those toy soldiers tumbling out of the box of toys. They were definitely of English make, he could tell by eye alone. And that musket...
No. It couldn't be.
"You awake yet, Iggy?"
Alfred.
Questions of 'why?' and 'how?' and 'what the hell?' flitted in and out of the Briton's mind before he finally managed to bark out a response doused in growing confusion and some frustration. "Just what in the bloody hell is going on here, Alfred? Not only am I naked in your cellar of all places, but I am tied up in the dark. Explain yourself, immediately!"
It was at that point that Arthur realized that a) it was once again obscenely dark in the cellar as the door above was closed, and b) had he heard an unnatural amount of squeaking as the American nation descended the aged, sighing staircase that he had spotted leading down into the concrete area?
Before he could think on it too much, the English nation hissed and flinched as the cellar light suddenly came on, it's bright light piercing the green eyes that had already gotten used to the bleakness of the subterranean dark. When at last his eyes came to and adjusted to the light, the first thing he saw as he glanced up was Alfred.
Alfred, who had somehow kidnapped him from his summer cottage in Kent and transported him to his cellar in the United States of America. Alfred who, for some odd reason, remained addicted to McDonalds hamburgers since the day the McDonald brothers first produced them, and must surely have gained countless pound from his continual consumption of such filth.
Alfred who at that very moment was standing little more than three feet away, wearing a form-fitting leather vest decorated with countless silver tie-down rings and other baubles, with a sinfully tight pair of leather pants and military-styled black boots to match.
---
(Explaination and the smexin's to come tomorrow. I have a baby shower to attend, so it probably won't be up until later. Hope you enjoy this [short] first part. Sorry it's so blah so far!)
Reply
"Don't you like it?" The younger nation took a second to twist side to side, making sure to show off the entirety of his outfit - 'Not to mention that shapely arse of his...' Arthur flushed at the thought that came unbidden, preferring rather to struggle against his binds as Alfred continued, "I've had it for aaaaages, but tonight, Iggy...Tonight is special."
"Well that is all well and good, Alfred, but I do not see what your evening has to do with my being tied up, starkers no less, in your storage room."
"Clearly you haven't taken a closer look at my 'storage room', Iggy. Go on, take a looks-ie."
Further examination revealed that the cellar was not just a haven for discarded bits and baubles forgotten by time. Along the opposite wall facing the Briton were rows upon rows of sex toys, bondage whips, metal restraints and countless gleaming leashes to match a small collection of various styled 'Bottom' collars.
Casting his gaze away from the intimidating wall of torturous - or were they deliciously splendid? A faint throb in Arthur's groin made him reconsider - toys, the gleam of a steel suspension bar as it swayed in an invisible breeze caught the British nations attention. That too was pointedly glanced past, however, when he spotted the more menacing aspects of the cellar-turned-sex dungeon.
Pressed against the far left wall, held to the concrete foundation with thick iron bolts and adjacent to various leather kink harnesses, was a glistening black St. Andrews Cross, leering at him, taunting him with fantasies of sex and domination outside the norm of twisted bedsheets and cum-stained clothing.
Without intention, Arthur felt his cock twitch, his arousal growing as he turned back to Alfred, who had taken to kneeling down in front of him.
"Ya wanna know why tonight's so special, Arthur?"
Mutely, - and against his better judgment - the Englishman nodded. Alfred grinned at this, taking the others jaw into his hand and shaking it as he positively purred, "It's because tonight, I'm going to fuck you, Arthur Kirkland. Just like I've wanted to do for ages."
The American leaned into the Briton, at first nuzzling the skin of his throat, then peppering kisses up along his jaw until his lips hovered over Arthur's own, eyes darting between the slightly chapped skin and always alluring green eyes. A lascivious grin spread across Alfred's face as he chose instead to turn his lips to the older man's ear, hot breath moistening already flushed skin as he whispered softly, voice ripe with longing;
"Doesn't that sound fun, Arty? Doesn't that just make you want to beg for it? To be tied up, beaten, used and abused until you're ready to explode?"
A soft moan accompanied the youngers voice, the movement of one of Alfred's hands drifting down to massage lightly at his own leather-encased groin, catching Arthur's attention.
His mouth went dry then, all thoughts of halting the young nation's bizarre game went flying out the window as Alfred's breath shortened into a faint panting staccato in his ear.
"You've no idea how bad I want this, Arthur. The real question, though," Blue eyes were suddenly bearing down on him, hands squeezing his shoulders and pressing him hard against the wall as the American finished, "is whether you want it, too.
Tell me, Arthur, do you want it? Do you want me?"
Reply
Reply
And put this on the fills list, so more people will suffer through f5ing like this anon currently is.
PLEASE!!!!!
Reply
I'll be getting the next part up after I get up and write it later this morning. Thanks for your comments; I always love to see responses. x3
As it is, I'll be updating (hopefully) every day until the fill is done. Never fear, the whips, chains and denials are near!
Reply
Already half-hard, Arthur's eyes rolled back as Alfred reached between them and took the elder nation's cock in a firm grip. Stroking slowly, at leisure, the Briton's former colony-turned-superpower chuckled warmly, "I'll take that as a yes."
Before he could stir up a response. - although something was certainly responding quite well already - Arthur found his voice muffled by Alfred's mouth as he devoured him in a bruising yet patient kiss. The younger took his time to feather the others lips with his tongue until he was permitted entry, then taking the opportunity presented to lazily prod the other's tongue into action. For a brief second the two fought for dominance, before Arthur at last submitted to the others will and allowed Alfred to lead the heady open-mouthed kiss.
When at last they broke apart for air, a strand of spit connected their lips, breaking when Alfred lowered his gaze and his ministrations to pressing hard bites along Arthur's clavicle, soothing the reddened flesh with a lick each time.
"Alfred...the rope...Please."
He need not have said more, as Alfred expertly un-tied the knotted rope that secured the Englishman's hands behind his back. Blood quickly flowed into the numb limbs as the cordage slipped boneless-ly to the ground, and bringing his hands around, Arthur noted with displeasure the raw red skin of his wrists.
There was little time for him to contemplate that, though, as Alfred pulled away from him and strolled to the opposing wall, fingers running over the surfaces of various toys before plucking from a hook two matching pairs of silver handcuffs. He swaggered as he strode back towards Arthur, who was then on his knees, and pulled the older nation to his feet in a single swift motion. Chest to chest, the thrumming of Arthur's heart pounding over his leather-clad breast, Alfred snapped the cuffs open and positively leered at his assumed 'victim'.
"Hey, Iggy?"
"Y-yes, Alfred?"
"Before I begin, there's just one thing I need to know..."
A pause, and then, "Are you a screamer?"
------
A/N: Sorry for the short update. Just needed to get this out there so I didn't keep you waiting. Next update coming late today (Feb.9)!
reCaptcha: Lover khartoum -> So that's what they're callin' bondage dungeons these days...
Reply
Reply
Did you post this on the fills page? I can't remmeber seeing it...
Reply
He wasn't quite sure how Arthur had managed to reverse their positions. One moment, he was about to snap the cuffs over the older man's wrists and have his wicked way with him, and then in a blur of movement, it was he who was cuffed and spread out for the Englishman's hungry eyes to devour.
Perhaps he had assumed too little of the Briton's abilities in his old age.
Cuffed to the suspended steel bar, the cellar's low roof and his height giving him enough slack to stand comfortably while still being kept thoroughly in check by his shackles, Alfred cocked his head ponderously and gazed at Arthur from afar and the latter browsed the wall of sex toys. Painfully hard beneath the severe tightness of his leather slacks, the American felt his pulse spike each time the Briton's fingers lingered over a plug, dildo or vibrator, before he seemed to decide against said object and moved on to something else.
He felt his blood burn and cock strain achingly when the British nation came away from the wall, a dildo plug and adjustable metal cock-ring in one hand, a heavy leather whip in the other. There was no point in trying to convince the other to switch roles again; something about the swagger in Arthur's step told Alfred that the other had once again taken to the ruthless abandon that had been a keystone in his pirating years.
Shoving the hard handle of the whip between his teeth, thereby freeing up a hand, Arthur made short work of tearing open the American's straining leather confines, fingers dancing briefly over the head of the others cock - drawing a soft moan - before sliding the metal cock-ring over the hot flesh and tightening it to an almost painful degree.
"Ah...Arthur, I think it's a bit t-tight!"
His response was merely a grin and a rough pat on the cheek as Arthur pulled the whip out of his mouth and pulled away to examine his handiwork. "Mmm, no. I think it's just right, love."
It wasn't long before his pants were pooled at his ankles and the dry head of the dildo plug was being longingly eased into the crevice of his buttocks. When it's blunt end prodded at his entrance without falter, pushing past the tight ring of muscle, Alfred stiffened, panting though the pain of non-lubricated penetration. Whispering sweet nothings into Alfred's ear, - "Relax, love. Be a big boy for Daddy; Daddy loves you." - Arthur pushed the plug in further until the flat base halted it's course and maintained the parting of the younger nation's buttocks. He repeated the motions several times over, until Alfred was twitching and panting with pleasure rather than pain.
It was then that the Englishman stepped back two or three paces, fingers running through the tapered strands that made up the tail of the whip. As if picturing what he was about to do in his mind, the British nation moaned and ground the hilt of the whip into his groin for a tantalizing second before regaining his composure and correcting his aim. Only the faint whistle of leather cutting through air gave Alfred any indication that the first flog was coming.
The pain was vivid, but strayed away from being severe. In his conscientious nature, Arthur couldn't bear to inflict severe harm on his most beloved former colony - and lover - despite the game they currently played. Still, the strike was hard enough to cause Alfred to cry out, to sting and mark the man with faint pink lines that spoke without voice 'You are mine. Do not forget this.'
----
Note to self: Put this in fills. x|
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And now I'm not longer just glancing at this fill.
No, now I am stalking it.
Reply
Now I worship it.
OH ARTHUR, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD YOU. Somehow, him biting down on the whip and then pleasuring himself with the handle made me hotter than anything. *pants* Oh please some more, anon!
Reply
The development is so unexpected
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