If It Fits, Add More! [2/?]
anonymous
June 16 2010, 03:14:41 UTC
Russia knocked on the door and waited for Canada to answer. It was a lovely evening, soft flurries piling a half meter high on the streets. Ivan was curious as to why Canada had invited him; it was very unusual for anyone to contact him at all. Even more so for his shy, arctic neighbor.
The door creaked open and a blond curl peaked out, followed by the rest of its owner. “Russia, come on in. It’s kinda chilly out there.” Canada pulled the door open for Ivan to enter.
“Thank you Matvey.” Ivan stepped into the warm house, shaking the clinging powder from his boots. “What did Matvey call me here for? Not that I do not enjoy the visit but it is strange to receive them from you.” Ivan’s ever-present smile shined towards his host.
“Uh… well actually.”
“TAKE THIS!”
A “thunk” echoed in the foyer. Ivan was quite sure it was a metal pipe currently resting against his head. He would never mistake the sound of steel on flesh. But as for why a steel pipe was current resting against a very sore spot on his cranium he was unsure. Turning towards the source of the metal, he saw America standing at the other end of the meter long plumbing device.
Well that certainly explained a great deal, but now he was curious as to why America was standing behind the front door hitting people over the head with piping. He was fairly certain it was not one of Alfred’s unusual quirks, but it was Alfred, and therefore he could not be very sure.
He was about to question America’s newest choice of greetings, when a small pressure at the base of his neck and a soft mumble of “sorry” greeted his ears before the world draped black like curtains being pulled by a stage hand for the intermission of a play that actors had spent hours and hours rehearsing, but now the audience was going to have to wait 30 minutes to see the rest, and in the meanwhile be forced to stand in ridiculously long lines to relieve their bladders and buy over priced refreshments to support the theater, which was a dilapidated old building anyway and was scheduled to get torn down in two weeks.
“Shit Mattie where did you learn to do that?” Alfred asked, dropping the pipe to the floor.
“Bear wrestling.” Canada said like it was all the explanation needed, “Come on. Help me move him.”
“Righto!” America recovered and hoisted the sleeping giant under the arms, “Damn he weighs a ton.”
If It Fits, Add More! [3/?]
anonymous
June 21 2010, 19:56:01 UTC
“Don’t you think he can just break that though?”
“Well yeah, but he won’t. It holds too much sentimental attachment, ya know? He’d never do anything to hurt his scarf.”
“What about the knots?”
“Scouts honor! He won’t be able to get out of them. I’ve had lots of practice with knots if you remember.”
“Sh-shut up Al.”
Ivan groaned, whoever was speaking was making his headache. He squeezed his eyes trying to dissipate the voices rattling against the walls of his eardrums.
“He’s waking up.”
“Sweet lets get started then!”
The first voice seemed timid, soft like a breathe in the forest. Difficult to hear, but easily felt when you turn to see the giant brown bear breathing against your skin before it clenches down and shatters your vertebrae into thousands of calcium laden shards that spear into your spinal cord causing your body to fall numb into the welcoming embrace of the furry beast enjoying a nice late afternoon snack consisting of femur and a side of patella.
The other voice, a little less shy and with fewer promises of hidden pain. It was more like an obnoxious teeny bopper running around the mall looking for all the good sales, before getting into a fight with a larger grandmother over some scarf in the discount bins and causing a ruckus in her overly shrill voice with the elder women until finally both ladies and the 14 grandchildren are banded from the store, to which the underdeveloped teen will continue screeching in her God given voice to all her nasty, pimply friend about grandmothers.
“Hey Russia, you awake yet?” The teenybopper questioned.
Ivan opened his eyes to a wooden headboard with a familiar strip of white fabric leading from it to his wrists. He shifted and tried to turn to look at his captors, but a hand on the back of his neck forced his face into the sheets. “I am, though I am curious what has warranted your… hospitality.” Ivan was fairly certain that he was not in the same state that he arrived in. He shifted slightly, yes that was diffidently his pants on the floor to the side of the bed.
“We saw the funniest thing on tv the other day.” America loomed over Russia.
“It interrupted out hockey game!” Canada spoke up from the foot of the bed. It sounded like he was breathing slightly heavier than normal.
America nodded, though Russia could not see it, “So it got us wondering…”
“Ivan? What fits in Russia?” Canada asked.
“What?” Russia asked flatly, irritation colored his voice. What were these foolish children talking about?
“C’mon. Everyone knows about ‘Mother Russia’s vast size.’“ America ran his hand down from Russia’s neck over his back along his spine and stopped over Ivan’s buttock, “But what fits in Russia?”
Re: If It Fits, Add More! [3/?]
anonymous
June 22 2010, 01:55:56 UTC
There...there is something so incredibly awesome about this line:
The first voice seemed timid, soft like a breathe in the forest. Difficult to hear, but easily felt when you turn to see the giant brown bear breathing against your skin before it clenches down and shatters your vertebrae into thousands of calcium laden shards that spear into your spinal cord causing your body to fall numb into the welcoming embrace of the furry beast enjoying a nice late afternoon snack consisting of femur and a side of patella.
If It Fits, Add More! [4/?]
anonymous
June 24 2010, 04:19:33 UTC
So that is the game the little ones wanted to play. It would certainly be interesting. “You think that you can fill Mother Russia? It is a laughable concept. Russia is much too big for two, tiny, little nations.”
Canada’s face suddenly appeared in the space between the wall and Russia’s own, “I am almost as big as you, eh.” His lower lip jutted out the tiniest bit and it would have been perfect for sucking, or biting depending on the aggressor’s preference. Sadly Russia wasn’t really in a position to do either of those things, and any comment he would have made was cut of by the other brother.
“It’s true, you only have like a half inch over Mattie in girth and three quarters in length. We measured.” Alfred sounded almost smug about it. The words sprung images of America pushing up thick, black-rimmed glasses up his nose as he nearly stuffed it into Russia’s and Canada’s crotches. A foldable ruler, for on the go convenience, appearing from between the flaps of the pocket protector, guarding his white button down shirt from the threat of exploding pens, and lining up to each of their penises before disappearing back into that pocket. A pen and notepad appearing in his hands as he scrawled down the carefully collected data.
The image brought a soft rumbling to Russia’s chest and confused stares from the brothers.
“Hey what’s so funny?” America prodded.
Mirth glistened Russia’s voice, as unfazed by the situation as he could be, “And how little is Alfred?”
“13 cm. Erect.” Canada offered helpfully, standing from his squat.
“Aw c’mon! I was at least 8 inches!”
“Al, the only way you would be that big is if you got an extension.”
“Pshh, like I need one. I’m awesome enough by myself.”
“Is that why the catalog was bookmarked?”
“I-I just thought you might like one!”
Canada clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. It was just too amusing. The brothers were arguing about penis size like a collection of schoolboys standing around the locker room waiting for an empty shower. Russia usually would have just told them to drop their pants and show it, but that seemed ill advised in this situation. 1.) Because he was fairly certain no one in the room had been wearing anything, pants included, for a while now, and 2.) Drawing attention to himself really did not seem the best way to get out of this situation un-sodomized. Of course given the option, Ivan would not have minded having one or both of the brothers tied up for his own pleasure, actually that was rather appealing. He should work on that… but first, getting out of this binding. Ivan observed the knot keeping his hands bound, it was not one he was familiar with, but it should not be that hard to pick apart.
Suddenly it was much too quiet. The bickering above him had stopped at some point.
“We’ll look for a fucking machine later, right now research!” America’s hand left Russia’s ass and the rustling of plastic was followed by a quiet “found it.” “Wanna get him ready bro?”
Russia assumed a nod and an exchange occurred over him. The bed shifted from the right, dipping under added weight, “Move your legs up.” The soft voice ordered him, and then an arm wrapped around his waist lifting his hips. Two hands pushed his thighs forward, before he was released to his new position, prostrated to a sex god sitting on the headboard and ass bared to two behind him.
“Dat ass,” America snickered. He swung his hand, filling the room with a pleasing slapping sound as it hit. Russia glared over his shoulder, but only received a waggling eyebrow and a squeeze, before America was back over at the plastic bag on the floor.
Re: If It Fits, Add More! [4/?]
anonymous
June 24 2010, 04:26:34 UTC
I actually interrupted by own reading to say that this is the most hilarious thought process ever: and 2.) Drawing attention to himself really did not seem the best way to get out of this situation un-sodomized. I mean, the situation would be horrifying in real life, but the wording is just-- I can't stop laughing, I don't even know. XD
Re: If It Fits, Add More! [4/?]
anonymous
June 24 2010, 06:40:44 UTC
North Americans comparing sizes lol
>>Ivan would not have minded having one or both of the brothers tied up for his own pleasure, actually that was rather appealing. He should work on that… but first, getting out of this binding.
Re: If It Fits, Add More! [4/?]
anonymous
June 24 2010, 12:13:20 UTC
Dat ass, indeed *snickers*
Ok, your Russia is awesome, playing into the gameXD. He wants to top, and he's gonna get thoroughly filled instead. Delicious ~~ American bros arguing abotu sizes, and Canada being bigger, fuck yes. Also, America is having way too much fun, slapping Russia's ass and all that...can't wait for more ;)
If It Fits, Add More! [5/?]
anonymous
June 25 2010, 02:28:48 UTC
Anon just wanted to thank everyone for the comments. They are what makes this so much fun to write. And now!!! Onto the porn!
Matthew wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t amused by Alfred’s antics, but he wasn’t going to openly admit it either. Instead he popped the cap of the KY and dripped it on to his fingers, watching it glide down from the tip over his knuckles. The pads of his fingers caught it before it fell too far and smeared it up over the callused skin. Setting the bottle on the bed, he spreads Russia’s cheeks, “Ready?” He asked rubbing against the pink ring.
“Hell yeah.” Alfred muttered returning to the bed with the handful of tools they had decided on.
“I know you are.” Matthew pushed his first finger in without waiting for the proper response, and Russia swallowed him up so easily. Maybe Russia really could hold as much as claimed. Pushing forward, Canada tested the theory, letting Russia eat up more of his fingers.
Alfred was watching over his shoulder, whistling as Matthew’s fingers disappear inside Russia. “Look at all Mother Russia can hold.” Alfred mocked in a crappy imitation of a Russian accent, “I doubt you even need to stretch him to fit all this in.” Alfred climbed onto the bed next to him and laid out their selection, organizing by size, shape, and color.
“We probably could, but it is better to do it this way. I can feel him twitching all around my fingers.” Matthew pulled them out and showed Russia’s entrance to Alfred, “See?”
Russia was visibly twitching. Every few seconds, the pink ring would pucker like it was ready to receive a kiss from a lover, or a cock…
They watched the little circle blow kisses at them for a few more seconds before Alfred got an idea, “Hey! I’ve got an idea! Put your fingers back in.” Alfred picked up the bottle of discarded lube, “Here, you’ll need a bit more.” He squeezed it over Matthew’s fingers before coating his own.
Matthew did as instructed, letting Ivan kiss at his tips before pushing them back in, it seemed easier each time. “Go ahead and spread them.” Alfred placed his own over Mattie’s and started pushing in, a total of four digits coming to rest inside Russia.
Alfred giggled beside him, “You were totally right Mattie, it keeps twitching. I bet it wants more. Jeeze Russia, you call me the glutton, but you’re soooo hungry back here.” Alfred pulled his fingers out and jabbed them back in.
Russia bit his lip through the whole ordeal. He was not going to satisfy the brothers by responding to their taunts nor making them think he was enjoying their treatment. So he kept his silence, as his insides were abused by probing fingers, pushing in and out and in again, groping at him from the inside. It was not that he had not experienced this before. But it had been a long time, long enough to be uncomfortable when he felt another finger pushing in between the others.
More comments about how he was a glutton, how greedy he was, were laughed behind him. The grip strangling the sheets between his fingers was not just the result of having five, little piggies squirming around in his backend pen.
He needed to make a decision. Try and break free, the possibility looking slim and would result in damage to either his scarf (not an option) or fail considering the two nations he would be up against. Not that he was not confident in his strength, he could have easily taken on either of them, but simultaneously was a different set of conditions. So his other option was to knee and take it and plan his revenge later. It was not an appealing option, but the success rate and gratification would be significantly higher. Option two then.
Russia clenched down on the intruding digits. He would have to plan something extra special for them, not the usual lead pipe to the head bit either-
Fuck. That felt good.
“I think we found it Al.”
“About time!” Three of the piggies squealing in his bum were removed. “You wanna keep playing with that while I get these ready?”
The door creaked open and a blond curl peaked out, followed by the rest of its owner. “Russia, come on in. It’s kinda chilly out there.” Canada pulled the door open for Ivan to enter.
“Thank you Matvey.” Ivan stepped into the warm house, shaking the clinging powder from his boots. “What did Matvey call me here for? Not that I do not enjoy the visit but it is strange to receive them from you.” Ivan’s ever-present smile shined towards his host.
“Uh… well actually.”
“TAKE THIS!”
A “thunk” echoed in the foyer. Ivan was quite sure it was a metal pipe currently resting against his head. He would never mistake the sound of steel on flesh. But as for why a steel pipe was current resting against a very sore spot on his cranium he was unsure. Turning towards the source of the metal, he saw America standing at the other end of the meter long plumbing device.
Well that certainly explained a great deal, but now he was curious as to why America was standing behind the front door hitting people over the head with piping. He was fairly certain it was not one of Alfred’s unusual quirks, but it was Alfred, and therefore he could not be very sure.
He was about to question America’s newest choice of greetings, when a small pressure at the base of his neck and a soft mumble of “sorry” greeted his ears before the world draped black like curtains being pulled by a stage hand for the intermission of a play that actors had spent hours and hours rehearsing, but now the audience was going to have to wait 30 minutes to see the rest, and in the meanwhile be forced to stand in ridiculously long lines to relieve their bladders and buy over priced refreshments to support the theater, which was a dilapidated old building anyway and was scheduled to get torn down in two weeks.
“Shit Mattie where did you learn to do that?” Alfred asked, dropping the pipe to the floor.
“Bear wrestling.” Canada said like it was all the explanation needed, “Come on. Help me move him.”
“Righto!” America recovered and hoisted the sleeping giant under the arms, “Damn he weighs a ton.”
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I love this so far, can't wait for more~
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Oh boy, this is going to be fun.
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“Well yeah, but he won’t. It holds too much sentimental attachment, ya know? He’d never do anything to hurt his scarf.”
“What about the knots?”
“Scouts honor! He won’t be able to get out of them. I’ve had lots of practice with knots if you remember.”
“Sh-shut up Al.”
Ivan groaned, whoever was speaking was making his headache. He squeezed his eyes trying to dissipate the voices rattling against the walls of his eardrums.
“He’s waking up.”
“Sweet lets get started then!”
The first voice seemed timid, soft like a breathe in the forest. Difficult to hear, but easily felt when you turn to see the giant brown bear breathing against your skin before it clenches down and shatters your vertebrae into thousands of calcium laden shards that spear into your spinal cord causing your body to fall numb into the welcoming embrace of the furry beast enjoying a nice late afternoon snack consisting of femur and a side of patella.
The other voice, a little less shy and with fewer promises of hidden pain. It was more like an obnoxious teeny bopper running around the mall looking for all the good sales, before getting into a fight with a larger grandmother over some scarf in the discount bins and causing a ruckus in her overly shrill voice with the elder women until finally both ladies and the 14 grandchildren are banded from the store, to which the underdeveloped teen will continue screeching in her God given voice to all her nasty, pimply friend about grandmothers.
“Hey Russia, you awake yet?” The teenybopper questioned.
Ivan opened his eyes to a wooden headboard with a familiar strip of white fabric leading from it to his wrists. He shifted and tried to turn to look at his captors, but a hand on the back of his neck forced his face into the sheets. “I am, though I am curious what has warranted your… hospitality.” Ivan was fairly certain that he was not in the same state that he arrived in. He shifted slightly, yes that was diffidently his pants on the floor to the side of the bed.
“We saw the funniest thing on tv the other day.” America loomed over Russia.
“It interrupted out hockey game!” Canada spoke up from the foot of the bed. It sounded like he was breathing slightly heavier than normal.
America nodded, though Russia could not see it, “So it got us wondering…”
“Ivan? What fits in Russia?” Canada asked.
“What?” Russia asked flatly, irritation colored his voice. What were these foolish children talking about?
“C’mon. Everyone knows about ‘Mother Russia’s vast size.’“ America ran his hand down from Russia’s neck over his back along his spine and stopped over Ivan’s buttock, “But what fits in Russia?”
“Or rather how much?” Canada’s voice was closer.
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ReCaptcha: kenneled committee; ..... ^ ^;;
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The first voice seemed timid, soft like a breathe in the forest. Difficult to hear, but easily felt when you turn to see the giant brown bear breathing against your skin before it clenches down and shatters your vertebrae into thousands of calcium laden shards that spear into your spinal cord causing your body to fall numb into the welcoming embrace of the furry beast enjoying a nice late afternoon snack consisting of femur and a side of patella.
ILU AUTHORNON.
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Extended metaphors are good in moderation.
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Canada’s face suddenly appeared in the space between the wall and Russia’s own, “I am almost as big as you, eh.” His lower lip jutted out the tiniest bit and it would have been perfect for sucking, or biting depending on the aggressor’s preference. Sadly Russia wasn’t really in a position to do either of those things, and any comment he would have made was cut of by the other brother.
“It’s true, you only have like a half inch over Mattie in girth and three quarters in length. We measured.” Alfred sounded almost smug about it. The words sprung images of America pushing up thick, black-rimmed glasses up his nose as he nearly stuffed it into Russia’s and Canada’s crotches. A foldable ruler, for on the go convenience, appearing from between the flaps of the pocket protector, guarding his white button down shirt from the threat of exploding pens, and lining up to each of their penises before disappearing back into that pocket. A pen and notepad appearing in his hands as he scrawled down the carefully collected data.
The image brought a soft rumbling to Russia’s chest and confused stares from the brothers.
“Hey what’s so funny?” America prodded.
Mirth glistened Russia’s voice, as unfazed by the situation as he could be, “And how little is Alfred?”
“13 cm. Erect.” Canada offered helpfully, standing from his squat.
“Aw c’mon! I was at least 8 inches!”
“Al, the only way you would be that big is if you got an extension.”
“Pshh, like I need one. I’m awesome enough by myself.”
“Is that why the catalog was bookmarked?”
“I-I just thought you might like one!”
Canada clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. It was just too amusing. The brothers were arguing about penis size like a collection of schoolboys standing around the locker room waiting for an empty shower. Russia usually would have just told them to drop their pants and show it, but that seemed ill advised in this situation. 1.) Because he was fairly certain no one in the room had been wearing anything, pants included, for a while now, and 2.) Drawing attention to himself really did not seem the best way to get out of this situation un-sodomized. Of course given the option, Ivan would not have minded having one or both of the brothers tied up for his own pleasure, actually that was rather appealing. He should work on that… but first, getting out of this binding. Ivan observed the knot keeping his hands bound, it was not one he was familiar with, but it should not be that hard to pick apart.
Suddenly it was much too quiet. The bickering above him had stopped at some point.
“We’ll look for a fucking machine later, right now research!” America’s hand left Russia’s ass and the rustling of plastic was followed by a quiet “found it.” “Wanna get him ready bro?”
Russia assumed a nod and an exchange occurred over him. The bed shifted from the right, dipping under added weight, “Move your legs up.” The soft voice ordered him, and then an arm wrapped around his waist lifting his hips. Two hands pushed his thighs forward, before he was released to his new position, prostrated to a sex god sitting on the headboard and ass bared to two behind him.
“Dat ass,” America snickered. He swung his hand, filling the room with a pleasing slapping sound as it hit. Russia glared over his shoulder, but only received a waggling eyebrow and a squeeze, before America was back over at the plastic bag on the floor.
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>>Ivan would not have minded having one or both of the brothers tied up for his own pleasure, actually that was rather appealing. He should work on that… but first, getting out of this binding.
Oh jebus the image!!! WE NEED A REVENGE FIC!!!
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recaptcha says "successful scarring" that might be the inspiration. =D
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Ok, your Russia is awesome, playing into the gameXD. He wants to top, and he's gonna get thoroughly filled instead. Delicious ~~
American bros arguing abotu sizes, and Canada being bigger, fuck yes.
Also, America is having way too much fun, slapping Russia's ass and all that...can't wait for more ;)
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Matthew wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t amused by Alfred’s antics, but he wasn’t going to openly admit it either. Instead he popped the cap of the KY and dripped it on to his fingers, watching it glide down from the tip over his knuckles. The pads of his fingers caught it before it fell too far and smeared it up over the callused skin. Setting the bottle on the bed, he spreads Russia’s cheeks, “Ready?” He asked rubbing against the pink ring.
“Hell yeah.” Alfred muttered returning to the bed with the handful of tools they had decided on.
“I know you are.” Matthew pushed his first finger in without waiting for the proper response, and Russia swallowed him up so easily. Maybe Russia really could hold as much as claimed. Pushing forward, Canada tested the theory, letting Russia eat up more of his fingers.
Alfred was watching over his shoulder, whistling as Matthew’s fingers disappear inside Russia. “Look at all Mother Russia can hold.” Alfred mocked in a crappy imitation of a Russian accent, “I doubt you even need to stretch him to fit all this in.” Alfred climbed onto the bed next to him and laid out their selection, organizing by size, shape, and color.
“We probably could, but it is better to do it this way. I can feel him twitching all around my fingers.” Matthew pulled them out and showed Russia’s entrance to Alfred, “See?”
Russia was visibly twitching. Every few seconds, the pink ring would pucker like it was ready to receive a kiss from a lover, or a cock…
They watched the little circle blow kisses at them for a few more seconds before Alfred got an idea, “Hey! I’ve got an idea! Put your fingers back in.” Alfred picked up the bottle of discarded lube, “Here, you’ll need a bit more.” He squeezed it over Matthew’s fingers before coating his own.
Matthew did as instructed, letting Ivan kiss at his tips before pushing them back in, it seemed easier each time. “Go ahead and spread them.” Alfred placed his own over Mattie’s and started pushing in, a total of four digits coming to rest inside Russia.
Alfred giggled beside him, “You were totally right Mattie, it keeps twitching. I bet it wants more. Jeeze Russia, you call me the glutton, but you’re soooo hungry back here.” Alfred pulled his fingers out and jabbed them back in.
Russia bit his lip through the whole ordeal. He was not going to satisfy the brothers by responding to their taunts nor making them think he was enjoying their treatment. So he kept his silence, as his insides were abused by probing fingers, pushing in and out and in again, groping at him from the inside. It was not that he had not experienced this before. But it had been a long time, long enough to be uncomfortable when he felt another finger pushing in between the others.
More comments about how he was a glutton, how greedy he was, were laughed behind him. The grip strangling the sheets between his fingers was not just the result of having five, little piggies squirming around in his backend pen.
He needed to make a decision. Try and break free, the possibility looking slim and would result in damage to either his scarf (not an option) or fail considering the two nations he would be up against. Not that he was not confident in his strength, he could have easily taken on either of them, but simultaneously was a different set of conditions. So his other option was to knee and take it and plan his revenge later. It was not an appealing option, but the success rate and gratification would be significantly higher. Option two then.
Russia clenched down on the intruding digits. He would have to plan something extra special for them, not the usual lead pipe to the head bit either-
Fuck. That felt good.
“I think we found it Al.”
“About time!” Three of the piggies squealing in his bum were removed. “You wanna keep playing with that while I get these ready?”
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