Sea Lion's March 3/?
anonymous
March 27 2010, 22:02:21 UTC
"How old are you, soldier?"
"What? Why do you want to know?"
"You sound young. In your twenties, at a guess. The last German soldier we captured was younger. He was eighteen, barely even a man. When he surrendered to us there was vomit all over his front. His squad had killed a family of gypsies in front of him. Every single member, the grandparents, the parents, the children and the grandchildren. Four generations wiped out just like that. He was barely coherent. He kept gibbering about how he hadn't wanted to, how he'd tried to resist but the made him shoot the oldest daughter in the face. They told him they'd violate her unless he did it. So he did. Your army is made up of children, cowards and sadists. Perhaps no one here is innocent but some are more guilty than others."
Germany bowed his head although England couldn't see him. "What did those soldiers do before I came?"
England laughed again, so hard that he coughed. "Such a sensitive Nazi. What's giving you the vapours now?"
"Your buttock is...marked."
England's laugh verged on hysterical this time. "Threats and beatings only with a little sexual harassment thrown in. They're far too cowardly for anything more. Can we get on with this? I'm keen to get back to my cell, or the camp or wherever they're taking me and I'm sure you're keen to get back to your pleasant Aryan wife and your home-cooked strudel. I'm certain that you have a wife in order to allay any suspicions that you might prefer a husband. You might want to keep an eye on that groper if that's the case."
"With him it's more about cruelty than sexuality."
"You're actually defending the gays now? Isn't that against your policies? Is that why you're being such a limp bastard? You're too awestruck by my arse to move? Does your Führer know about all the homosexuals in his army?"
"I merely-"
"Stared at it closely enough to notice the marks, yes."
"Because I was shocked!"
"Whack that whip over it. Go on. Take out all of that Nazi repression that's bubbling over now on it."
"This isn't something you can joke away."
"You're wrong. This is a joke of a torture session. If you whip my rump at least we'll have gotten started and presumably, you'll have gotten finished."
"I'm not going to whip your rump."
"I'm beginning to think you're not going to whip any part of my anatomy at all. This is... Tell me soldier, why the hell do you sound so familiar?"
"Perhaps all Germans sound similar to you?"
England laughed again. "I never thought I'd see the day when a Nazi pulled the race card on me. What's your name, soldier?"
"You're a poor liar, Hans."
England grew silent. Germany tightened his fingers on the whip's handle. He kept silent too. It lasted until England broke it with a sharp intake of breath.
Sea Lion's March 4/?
anonymous
March 27 2010, 22:05:20 UTC
"Yes," Germany said, hoarsely.
"You... Idiot. You fucking idiot! How could you let this happen? Have you seen-? You idiot!"
"I couldn't stop it, England. I-"
"Idiot! You couldn't stop it because you're a cowardly, feckless fuck! You must have seen the warning sounds! In all your years, you must have experienced this before! You're too old to be led around by the nose like a teenaged soldier, damn it! You should have, should have done something."
"I can't control what the populace do. How long did it take you to abolish slavery? How long will it be before you right all of the wrongs left in your own country? We can't simply prevent these things with a sweep of our hands!"
"You should have fought for it! You should have fought against your own soldiers if you had to like France did! You should have shed that uniform and spat in the face of that monster when you realised what was really going on! You should have tried to protect your people with all your might instead of helping your godforsaken fanatics invade me!"
"It's too late, England."
"How dare you. How dare you make excuses to anyone, let alone me."
"I didn't want this to happen!"
"Well good fucking job! Just do it! Do it, you filthy kraut bastard. Fucking whip me you dickless son of a bitch! Whip me! If you can't even protect your own people you're sure as heel not going to do anything to save mine. I welcome it. I want you to see how a real man upholds his principles."
"England-"
"Shut your mouth, cunt."
Germany lifted the whip. If he didn't leave a mark on England soon, suspicions would rise. England's naked body, now trembling with rage, looked strangely fragile like this. Germany the whip back so fast that it ripped audibly through the air. He willed England to protest, to insult him again but he remained silent. Germany lowered the whip before it hit. He stared at England's so-far-unblemished back. No. He couldn't. He'd knock England out and convince his superiors that England had passed out from the beating from the other soldiers. Even if he suspected that would be a worse punishment for someone so prideful.
An insistent knocking at the door brought him out of that reverie. Germany straightened up and pulled the door open.
"What?" he barked.
The anteroom was awfully crowded. Soldiers were bottlenecked near the doorway. There had to be at least two dozen there. The one at the head of the group blinked up at him.
"Sir," the soldier said. God but he was young. Barely even a man. "The commander thought it would be good for morale if we watched this, sir."
"Don't be ridiculous. This isn't a movie theatre. Get out! All of you!"
"But-" the soldier tinged pink at his own daring.
"But what?"
"We were ordered to do it, sir."
Germany glared at the boy until his hands started to shake. He passed his eyes over the group of nervous, pink faces. He knew of the commander at this base. He could get quite creative with his punishments. He was the kind of man who'd adapted all too well to this new regime.
"Fine," Germany said. "Get inside but don't advertise your presence to me!"
The soldiers filed in. They vied for the best view as if this was some sort of boxing match. They were jostling each other, laughing and all staring at England. Some of them jeered. England's endowment was a common theme. As was the handprint on his ass. There were threats of violence and threats of worse. There were shouts about what they would do to England's country. How they would use his women as public toilets. How they would all have a turn with England's body. Germany shoved them aside and approached England's back. He pulled his military cap down low over his eyes. The soldiers continued to jeer. Somehow upon entering the room they had ceased to be people and became a boorish hydra.
"Quiet!" Germany yelled.
Silence descended after a few false starts.
"I'm sorry," Germany whispered, in English, just to be sure.
"I'm not going to make this easy on you," England replied.
Sea Lion's March 5/?
anonymous
March 27 2010, 22:07:38 UTC
Germany could feel the soldiers' eyes on him. He could hear them holding their breath in anticipation. The leather of the whip's handle felt tacky in his sweaty palm. He drew back and raised it. He brought it down across England's back hard enough to break the skin. England grunted as a ragged red line appeared. Germany brought the whip down again. The beaded blood splattered across his back. England made only the smallest of sounds in response. Two thick, crisscrossed welts led from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. Germany brought it down again, harder, so it deepened the existing cuts where it touched them and opened another.
England moaned. It was not a moan of pain.
Germany almost dropped the whip. There was a smattering of laughter from the soldiers until Germany lifted his cap and turned a glare on them. England stretched his body luxuriously against the chains, arching his back and raising his face to the ceiling. He moaned again.
"What the hell are you doing?" Germany said.
"Ahhh, Germany! AhAH! Germany!"
"Stop it!"
Germany brought the whip down this time with little control. It opened a diagonal gash. Germany used that as a marker to whip again and again until he could see the fat. England simply moaned louder every time, as if he was in the throes of ecstasy. Germany rubbed his wrist when he managed to calm down. He lashed the whip away from England, so some of the blood separated from it and streaked the floor. He almost retched when he forced himself to look at England's back but managed to contain himself. Blood seeped down the small of England's back and dribbled across his buttocks. Germany lashed him across the back of the thighs. The skin split there too.
"Germany," England moaned.
Germany took a clump of hair in his hand and pulled England's head back, so the blood from his nose would pool in his throat. "Why are you doing this?" Germany asked.
England choked. He yanked his head forward and spat the blood onto the floor. "It usually costs a fair amount of deutschmarks for the kinky stuff!"
Germany whipped England's back again. He yelped but managed to turn the sound into an orgasmic cry near the end. Germany seized his shoulder with the hand not holding the whip.
"Stop debasing yourself, damn it!"
England shuffled backward in the tiny steps the cuffs around his ankles allowed him to make. He swung his upper body backward at the same time to give him momentum. He pressed his back flush against Germany. The open wounds stuck to the shirt of his uniform. Germany could feel blood and pus seeping through to his skin. England thrust his ass against Germany's crotch with a laboured breath. Germany actual did drop his whip this time. He didn't dare push him off right away for fear of how much more damage he'd do. England huffed several more strained breaths. He began to rub his ass against Germany in the most lewd way. Germany took a step back but England's skin clung to him as stubbornly as its owner. England made a sad, strangled sound but shuffled back into the more compromising position.
Germany's body didn't respond. Not even to the pressure. He had a mad urge to cross his arms over England's chest and hug him close. His breathing was growing more uneven and he was beginning to tremble from the blood loss. England twisted his neck around, to look at Germany with one swollen eye. His face didn't show any of the fatigue evident from his body. Germany found he'd placed his hand on England's side, in an unconscious attempt to support him.
"You're a worse coward than I thought," England said. "You can't even face me while you do this."
"Stop this. You'll put ideas into the soldier's heads."
England laughed again. There were a few rippled of murmuring and catcalls among the soldiers. England tilted his head up and licked the corner of Germany's mouth. "They think the same of me whatever happens."
Sea Lion's March 6/?
anonymous
March 27 2010, 22:10:13 UTC
Germany swiped at his face and pushed England away. England swore under his breath as the loose tendrils of skin that had tethered Germany broke away. Germany stooped and retrieved the whip from the floor. He lashed it toward a small group of the more boisterous soldiers but snapped it back before it hit. That shut them up. He snapped it randomly at them as he walked around England. He stood in front of him.
The front was harder to see. Blood had slopped down England's chin. His nose was definitely broken. Blood had crusted in his philtrum. Most of the rest of the blood was smeared across one side of his face as if someone had wiped it with a handkerchief. Probably the same bastard who'd delivered that slap because the untouched side of England's face still retained its charm. Germany would have to deal with him later but for now, England's knees were buckled as if the chains were the only thing keeping him up. Hi wrists were red from tugging at them. Germany skirted his eyes over England's abdomen. There was no bruising there. It may not be pleasant but England could withstand a lot more.
Germany let his eyes pass briefly over England's genitalia. At any other time, it would have been sexual. He would have welcomed seeing England as exposed and constricted as the girls in his magazines. At any other time, he wouldn't have been checking that England hadn't been castrated.
"Your nation wants to suck my cock like a cheap rent boy," England said, in perfect German. "Stop staring at it and do it."
Germany snapped his eyes back up. He brandished the whip but he'd already lost control of the room. The soldiers were shouting, wolf whistles and insults rebounded. It wasn't all directed at England. Germany ran his palm down the length of the whip to clean the last of the blood from it. He delivered a ringing slap to the clean side of England's face. It hit with such force that he swayed along with it. A handprint was emblazoned on his cheek, made redder by the blood. England lifted his eyes to meet Germany's and gave him a malevolent grin.
Germany took half a step forward and tried to grab his face. England shoved himself forward as well, so he was inside Germany's reach. He planted his lips on Germany's and kissed him like a wanton whore, as if he could genuinely lust for him at a time like this. He tasted of blood and day-old breath. His body thumped gently against Germany's as he swung from the ceiling like a pocket watch in a hand. The taunts of the soldiers filled Germany's ears. Haha fuck him. I told you Germany was a fag. Disgusting. They were followed by faux retching sounds.
Germany yanked England's head back. His eyes were lit with amusement. Germany threw the whip into the crowd and hoped it mortally wounded someone. He plucked a key from the band of his cap. England's expression faltered for a moment as he tried to focus on it. Germany thrust it into the lock of England's handcuffs and gave it a sharp turn. With nothing to support him, England slumped. He managed to throw his hands out so avoid smacking his face but each knee hit the floor with a clunk. England walked his hands around either side of him even as his arms sagged with the effort. He was getting a good look at those soldiers.
Germany tucked the toe of his boot under England's belly and kicked. England sprawled on the floor. It didn't sound sexual this time. Germany swung his leg again and buried his toe cap in England's chest. England flung out his hand and caught Germany's trousers to stop himself rolling away. Germany tried to shake him off like an ill-trained puppy but he held. He threw his other hand up and grabbed Germany's waistband. He pulled himself onto his knees. Germany was dimly aware of the soldiers closing around them.
"Don't," Germany said.
England laughed. He dropped his head against Germany's thigh. "You're not irresistible, kraut."
Re: Sea Lion's March 6/?
anonymous
March 27 2010, 22:11:31 UTC
Germany peeled England from him and kicked him in the stomach. He retched and flipped onto his side. The soldiers knotted around them, using the couple of feet Germany had left between them. Their voices were no longer distinguishable. Everyone else drowned out everyone else so it all became one jackal's jeer. A flurry of boots thudded on England's sides.
"Get off!" Germany said. He shouldered his way into the circle.
He drew his gun on the clot of soldiers around them. Those in front stepped back and forced those behind to do the same. The space around them widened. England had laid the side of his face on the floor, where a boot must have broken his jaw. Blood poured from his mouth like overspilled beer. His left hand was tucked under his body protecting his genitals but the other had been trampled on. The fingers were broken and twisted like the bends of a wrought iron fence. His shallow breaths bubbled in his blood. Germany planted the tread of his boot on the side of England's face but didn't press any of his weight onto it.
"This is my prisoner," Germany snarled. "I don't, and will never, need your help!"
England muttered something incoherent but with a flavour of vulgarity. Germany trained the muzzle of his gun on him. He aimed it down the line of England's body. England scrabbled at the floor with his unbroken fingers. Germany paused at his kneecap but aimed a little to the right as he fired. It was close enough to graze and burn but not to shatter. Close enough to trick England's stalwart nervous system into making him pass out. Germany lifted his foot to let England's body fall. He collected England from the floor.
"You!"
He gestured with his gun to one of the soldiers standing at the back. One of the few that hadn't even attempted to join the crowd. The soldier rushed forward. He draped England over his solder when he was passed to him.
"Patch him up and put him in a cell," Germany said. "And get some clothing on him. We aren't barbarians, or at least I believed so."
"Yes, sir." The soldier gave him a sarcastic salute, which he more than deserved.
Germany dismissed the soldiers who had neither instigated nor participated in this. When the last of them were gone, he addressed the rest. He snatched the whip from the floor. He grabbed the flail in one fist and stretched it across his body.
"The rest of you line up! If I see even on fleck, one single fleck, of blood on your clothing you get a lashing across the cheek. Consider it your punishment for being close enough to catch the spray. If I see more than that, you get one lash for every square inch of you that's covered. I said line up!"
Germany glared at them until they managed to organise themselves into lines. He pulled the first soldier toward him by the collar. He inspected him. Blood dusted his knuckles and his toecaps.
"Sir, I was just-"
Germany grabbed the crown of his head. "Just what?"
"Sir! There's more blood on you than me!"
Germany looked down at his uniform. He tossed the soldier into his line so that it skittled most of them. He threw the whip down with a wordless cry of rage and half-ran out of the room. In the anteroom he braced his hands against the wall and tried to stop vomit choking in his throat. He was covered. Covered from head to toe in England's blood.
Re: Sea Lion's March 6/?
anonymous
March 27 2010, 23:00:30 UTC
Not OP. I really enjoyed reading this and you did an excellent job writing it. I'm still shocked at how good it was. I especially loved the way you ended it like you did.
Re: Sea Lion's March 6/?
anonymous
March 27 2010, 23:57:47 UTC
...and same anon as above would like to add, I wish I could make a longer more coherent comment because this fic deserves it, but ajsdlsjkdhl I have no words. Still picking up jaw from floor. But anyway, this was amazing; I think I cringed irl while reading.
awesome fill!
anonymous
March 28 2010, 04:17:28 UTC
"Your nation wants to suck my cock like a cheap rent boy," England said, in perfect German. "Stop staring at it and do it."
...Am I the only one who wanted Germany to do it?? This Germany wants to lose the war. And it would be a good message to send to the ogling soldier boys: no matter how long you have been doing something, no matter your original reasons, if you decide it is wrong, STOP. Plus, it would get England to shut up for maybe thirty seconds and that is always a good thing. /shot
Hahaha anyway thank you Authornon for a wonderful story!
Re: Sea Lion's March 6/?
anonymous
March 28 2010, 05:18:35 UTC
"Your nation wants to suck my cock like a cheap rent boy," England said, in perfect German. "Stop staring at it and do it."
Which, in perfect German, would be: "Eure Nation will meinen Schwanz lutschen wie der biliige Stricher, der sie ist." & "Hör auf ihn anzustarren und mach's endlich."
Just sayin' if you, like, decide to de-anon at one point and publish your fic. Which you should so I can save it to my memories. Unf unf England, why are you such a bastard?
Author!anon is touched
anonymous
March 28 2010, 11:27:25 UTC
Omg thank you anons, just...thank you. Waking up to all these wonderful comments has really brightened up my day.
Also, thanks so much for that translation German-speaking anon. I'll probably add it to the notes at the end of the fic if I deanon later.
And anon who apologised for not writing a more detailed comment, don't be silly! Every comment is something to be grateful for, whether it's a paragraph or three words long.
Re: Sea Lion's March 6/?
anonymous
March 29 2010, 02:53:54 UTC
I have this fairly elaborate alternative headcannon for the serious, dark Hetalia fics that jar me so much that I know I'll never be able to get them out of my head... and this will become a cornerstone. I can feel it. I'm going to have flashbacks to England's skin sticking to Germany's uniform for a very long time.
Re: Sea Lion's March 6/?
anonymous
March 29 2010, 12:53:52 UTC
What an awesome fic! I was craving something dark, and this satisfied all my needs. It's fascinating how England, tied up, humilliated and tortured, is the one with the reigns. Like someone else said, I also wanted Germany to finally sucumb to...something, because this Germany wants to lose the war, because he wants everything to stop but is incapable of stopping it himself. ENGLAND, YOU'RE A CRAZY BADASS AND AWEOSME AND I JUST UNF ♥
"What? Why do you want to know?"
"You sound young. In your twenties, at a guess. The last German soldier we captured was younger. He was eighteen, barely even a man. When he surrendered to us there was vomit all over his front. His squad had killed a family of gypsies in front of him. Every single member, the grandparents, the parents, the children and the grandchildren. Four generations wiped out just like that. He was barely coherent. He kept gibbering about how he hadn't wanted to, how he'd tried to resist but the made him shoot the oldest daughter in the face. They told him they'd violate her unless he did it. So he did. Your army is made up of children, cowards and sadists. Perhaps no one here is innocent but some are more guilty than others."
Germany bowed his head although England couldn't see him. "What did those soldiers do before I came?"
England laughed again, so hard that he coughed. "Such a sensitive Nazi. What's giving you the vapours now?"
"Your buttock is...marked."
England's laugh verged on hysterical this time. "Threats and beatings only with a little sexual harassment thrown in. They're far too cowardly for anything more. Can we get on with this? I'm keen to get back to my cell, or the camp or wherever they're taking me and I'm sure you're keen to get back to your pleasant Aryan wife and your home-cooked strudel. I'm certain that you have a wife in order to allay any suspicions that you might prefer a husband. You might want to keep an eye on that groper if that's the case."
"With him it's more about cruelty than sexuality."
"You're actually defending the gays now? Isn't that against your policies? Is that why you're being such a limp bastard? You're too awestruck by my arse to move? Does your Führer know about all the homosexuals in his army?"
"I merely-"
"Stared at it closely enough to notice the marks, yes."
"Because I was shocked!"
"Whack that whip over it. Go on. Take out all of that Nazi repression that's bubbling over now on it."
"This isn't something you can joke away."
"You're wrong. This is a joke of a torture session. If you whip my rump at least we'll have gotten started and presumably, you'll have gotten finished."
"I'm not going to whip your rump."
"I'm beginning to think you're not going to whip any part of my anatomy at all. This is... Tell me soldier, why the hell do you sound so familiar?"
"Perhaps all Germans sound similar to you?"
England laughed again. "I never thought I'd see the day when a Nazi pulled the race card on me. What's your name, soldier?"
"You're a poor liar, Hans."
England grew silent. Germany tightened his fingers on the whip's handle. He kept silent too. It lasted until England broke it with a sharp intake of breath.
"Germany."
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"Yes," Germany said, hoarsely.
"You... Idiot. You fucking idiot! How could you let this happen? Have you seen-? You idiot!"
"I couldn't stop it, England. I-"
"Idiot! You couldn't stop it because you're a cowardly, feckless fuck! You must have seen the warning sounds! In all your years, you must have experienced this before! You're too old to be led around by the nose like a teenaged soldier, damn it! You should have, should have done something."
"I can't control what the populace do. How long did it take you to abolish slavery? How long will it be before you right all of the wrongs left in your own country? We can't simply prevent these things with a sweep of our hands!"
"You should have fought for it! You should have fought against your own soldiers if you had to like France did! You should have shed that uniform and spat in the face of that monster when you realised what was really going on! You should have tried to protect your people with all your might instead of helping your godforsaken fanatics invade me!"
"It's too late, England."
"How dare you. How dare you make excuses to anyone, let alone me."
"I didn't want this to happen!"
"Well good fucking job! Just do it! Do it, you filthy kraut bastard. Fucking whip me you dickless son of a bitch! Whip me! If you can't even protect your own people you're sure as heel not going to do anything to save mine. I welcome it. I want you to see how a real man upholds his principles."
"England-"
"Shut your mouth, cunt."
Germany lifted the whip. If he didn't leave a mark on England soon, suspicions would rise. England's naked body, now trembling with rage, looked strangely fragile like this. Germany the whip back so fast that it ripped audibly through the air. He willed England to protest, to insult him again but he remained silent. Germany lowered the whip before it hit. He stared at England's so-far-unblemished back. No. He couldn't. He'd knock England out and convince his superiors that England had passed out from the beating from the other soldiers. Even if he suspected that would be a worse punishment for someone so prideful.
An insistent knocking at the door brought him out of that reverie. Germany straightened up and pulled the door open.
"What?" he barked.
The anteroom was awfully crowded. Soldiers were bottlenecked near the doorway. There had to be at least two dozen there. The one at the head of the group blinked up at him.
"Sir," the soldier said. God but he was young. Barely even a man. "The commander thought it would be good for morale if we watched this, sir."
"Don't be ridiculous. This isn't a movie theatre. Get out! All of you!"
"But-" the soldier tinged pink at his own daring.
"But what?"
"We were ordered to do it, sir."
Germany glared at the boy until his hands started to shake. He passed his eyes over the group of nervous, pink faces. He knew of the commander at this base. He could get quite creative with his punishments. He was the kind of man who'd adapted all too well to this new regime.
"Fine," Germany said. "Get inside but don't advertise your presence to me!"
The soldiers filed in. They vied for the best view as if this was some sort of boxing match. They were jostling each other, laughing and all staring at England. Some of them jeered. England's endowment was a common theme. As was the handprint on his ass. There were threats of violence and threats of worse. There were shouts about what they would do to England's country. How they would use his women as public toilets. How they would all have a turn with England's body. Germany shoved them aside and approached England's back. He pulled his military cap down low over his eyes. The soldiers continued to jeer. Somehow upon entering the room they had ceased to be people and became a boorish hydra.
"Quiet!" Germany yelled.
Silence descended after a few false starts.
"I'm sorry," Germany whispered, in English, just to be sure.
"I'm not going to make this easy on you," England replied.
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England moaned. It was not a moan of pain.
Germany almost dropped the whip. There was a smattering of laughter from the soldiers until Germany lifted his cap and turned a glare on them. England stretched his body luxuriously against the chains, arching his back and raising his face to the ceiling. He moaned again.
"What the hell are you doing?" Germany said.
"Ahhh, Germany! AhAH! Germany!"
"Stop it!"
Germany brought the whip down this time with little control. It opened a diagonal gash. Germany used that as a marker to whip again and again until he could see the fat. England simply moaned louder every time, as if he was in the throes of ecstasy. Germany rubbed his wrist when he managed to calm down. He lashed the whip away from England, so some of the blood separated from it and streaked the floor. He almost retched when he forced himself to look at England's back but managed to contain himself. Blood seeped down the small of England's back and dribbled across his buttocks. Germany lashed him across the back of the thighs. The skin split there too.
"Germany," England moaned.
Germany took a clump of hair in his hand and pulled England's head back, so the blood from his nose would pool in his throat. "Why are you doing this?" Germany asked.
England choked. He yanked his head forward and spat the blood onto the floor. "It usually costs a fair amount of deutschmarks for the kinky stuff!"
Germany whipped England's back again. He yelped but managed to turn the sound into an orgasmic cry near the end. Germany seized his shoulder with the hand not holding the whip.
"Stop debasing yourself, damn it!"
England shuffled backward in the tiny steps the cuffs around his ankles allowed him to make. He swung his upper body backward at the same time to give him momentum. He pressed his back flush against Germany. The open wounds stuck to the shirt of his uniform. Germany could feel blood and pus seeping through to his skin. England thrust his ass against Germany's crotch with a laboured breath. Germany actual did drop his whip this time. He didn't dare push him off right away for fear of how much more damage he'd do. England huffed several more strained breaths. He began to rub his ass against Germany in the most lewd way. Germany took a step back but England's skin clung to him as stubbornly as its owner. England made a sad, strangled sound but shuffled back into the more compromising position.
Germany's body didn't respond. Not even to the pressure. He had a mad urge to cross his arms over England's chest and hug him close. His breathing was growing more uneven and he was beginning to tremble from the blood loss. England twisted his neck around, to look at Germany with one swollen eye. His face didn't show any of the fatigue evident from his body. Germany found he'd placed his hand on England's side, in an unconscious attempt to support him.
"You're a worse coward than I thought," England said. "You can't even face me while you do this."
"Stop this. You'll put ideas into the soldier's heads."
England laughed again. There were a few rippled of murmuring and catcalls among the soldiers. England tilted his head up and licked the corner of Germany's mouth. "They think the same of me whatever happens."
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The front was harder to see. Blood had slopped down England's chin. His nose was definitely broken. Blood had crusted in his philtrum. Most of the rest of the blood was smeared across one side of his face as if someone had wiped it with a handkerchief. Probably the same bastard who'd delivered that slap because the untouched side of England's face still retained its charm. Germany would have to deal with him later but for now, England's knees were buckled as if the chains were the only thing keeping him up. Hi wrists were red from tugging at them. Germany skirted his eyes over England's abdomen. There was no bruising there. It may not be pleasant but England could withstand a lot more.
Germany let his eyes pass briefly over England's genitalia. At any other time, it would have been sexual. He would have welcomed seeing England as exposed and constricted as the girls in his magazines. At any other time, he wouldn't have been checking that England hadn't been castrated.
"Your nation wants to suck my cock like a cheap rent boy," England said, in perfect German. "Stop staring at it and do it."
Germany snapped his eyes back up. He brandished the whip but he'd already lost control of the room. The soldiers were shouting, wolf whistles and insults rebounded. It wasn't all directed at England. Germany ran his palm down the length of the whip to clean the last of the blood from it. He delivered a ringing slap to the clean side of England's face. It hit with such force that he swayed along with it. A handprint was emblazoned on his cheek, made redder by the blood. England lifted his eyes to meet Germany's and gave him a malevolent grin.
Germany took half a step forward and tried to grab his face. England shoved himself forward as well, so he was inside Germany's reach. He planted his lips on Germany's and kissed him like a wanton whore, as if he could genuinely lust for him at a time like this. He tasted of blood and day-old breath. His body thumped gently against Germany's as he swung from the ceiling like a pocket watch in a hand. The taunts of the soldiers filled Germany's ears. Haha fuck him. I told you Germany was a fag. Disgusting. They were followed by faux retching sounds.
Germany yanked England's head back. His eyes were lit with amusement. Germany threw the whip into the crowd and hoped it mortally wounded someone. He plucked a key from the band of his cap. England's expression faltered for a moment as he tried to focus on it. Germany thrust it into the lock of England's handcuffs and gave it a sharp turn. With nothing to support him, England slumped. He managed to throw his hands out so avoid smacking his face but each knee hit the floor with a clunk. England walked his hands around either side of him even as his arms sagged with the effort. He was getting a good look at those soldiers.
Germany tucked the toe of his boot under England's belly and kicked. England sprawled on the floor. It didn't sound sexual this time. Germany swung his leg again and buried his toe cap in England's chest. England flung out his hand and caught Germany's trousers to stop himself rolling away. Germany tried to shake him off like an ill-trained puppy but he held. He threw his other hand up and grabbed Germany's waistband. He pulled himself onto his knees. Germany was dimly aware of the soldiers closing around them.
"Don't," Germany said.
England laughed. He dropped his head against Germany's thigh. "You're not irresistible, kraut."
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"Get off!" Germany said. He shouldered his way into the circle.
He drew his gun on the clot of soldiers around them. Those in front stepped back and forced those behind to do the same. The space around them widened. England had laid the side of his face on the floor, where a boot must have broken his jaw. Blood poured from his mouth like overspilled beer. His left hand was tucked under his body protecting his genitals but the other had been trampled on. The fingers were broken and twisted like the bends of a wrought iron fence. His shallow breaths bubbled in his blood. Germany planted the tread of his boot on the side of England's face but didn't press any of his weight onto it.
"This is my prisoner," Germany snarled. "I don't, and will never, need your help!"
England muttered something incoherent but with a flavour of vulgarity. Germany trained the muzzle of his gun on him. He aimed it down the line of England's body. England scrabbled at the floor with his unbroken fingers. Germany paused at his kneecap but aimed a little to the right as he fired. It was close enough to graze and burn but not to shatter. Close enough to trick England's stalwart nervous system into making him pass out. Germany lifted his foot to let England's body fall. He collected England from the floor.
"You!"
He gestured with his gun to one of the soldiers standing at the back. One of the few that hadn't even attempted to join the crowd. The soldier rushed forward. He draped England over his solder when he was passed to him.
"Patch him up and put him in a cell," Germany said. "And get some clothing on him. We aren't barbarians, or at least I believed so."
"Yes, sir." The soldier gave him a sarcastic salute, which he more than deserved.
Germany dismissed the soldiers who had neither instigated nor participated in this. When the last of them were gone, he addressed the rest. He snatched the whip from the floor. He grabbed the flail in one fist and stretched it across his body.
"The rest of you line up! If I see even on fleck, one single fleck, of blood on your clothing you get a lashing across the cheek. Consider it your punishment for being close enough to catch the spray. If I see more than that, you get one lash for every square inch of you that's covered. I said line up!"
Germany glared at them until they managed to organise themselves into lines. He pulled the first soldier toward him by the collar. He inspected him. Blood dusted his knuckles and his toecaps.
"Sir, I was just-"
Germany grabbed the crown of his head. "Just what?"
"Sir! There's more blood on you than me!"
Germany looked down at his uniform. He tossed the soldier into his line so that it skittled most of them. He threw the whip down with a wordless cry of rage and half-ran out of the room. In the anteroom he braced his hands against the wall and tried to stop vomit choking in his throat. He was covered. Covered from head to toe in England's blood.
Just following orders.
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Holy crap England, you're freakishly badass.
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...Am I the only one who wanted Germany to do it?? This Germany wants to lose the war. And it would be a good message to send to the ogling soldier boys: no matter how long you have been doing something, no matter your original reasons, if you decide it is wrong, STOP. Plus, it would get England to shut up for maybe thirty seconds and that is always a good thing. /shot
Hahaha anyway thank you Authornon for a wonderful story!
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Which, in perfect German, would be: "Eure Nation will meinen Schwanz lutschen wie der biliige Stricher, der sie ist." & "Hör auf ihn anzustarren und mach's endlich."
Just sayin' if you, like, decide to de-anon at one point and publish your fic. Which you should so I can save it to my memories. Unf unf England, why are you such a bastard?
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ENGLAND, WHY SO FUCKING AWESOME AND BADASS.
akjdfhsfal keyboard smash.
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Also, thanks so much for that translation German-speaking anon. I'll probably add it to the notes at the end of the fic if I deanon later.
And anon who apologised for not writing a more detailed comment, don't be silly! Every comment is something to be grateful for, whether it's a paragraph or three words long.
♥s to you all!
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I can feel it. I'm going to have flashbacks to England's skin sticking to Germany's uniform for a very long time.
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ENGLAND, YOU'RE A CRAZY BADASS AND AWEOSME AND I JUST UNF ♥
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