Chinese Democracy, Let’s Spend the Night Together (1/8)
anonymous
January 6 2010, 02:27:46 UTC
Hope this meets OP's expectations.
It was alright that things were like this, Yao reflected. After all, how bad could it be if America, the world’s only superpower, owed him more money than anyone else? People spoke of the rise of the East, so many things in America’s house had been made by the Chinese. The Olympics were going to be held in China, beginning tonight!
This little price he paid was nothing. Communism was a success and no one could tell him otherwise.
Yao wriggled his hands from where they were behind his back, tied. The circulation wasn’t very good, normally they tried to keep from cutting off his circulation when he was tied, but his higher-ups were concerned that Yao would get cocky with others around to see him. The ropes left red indents in his wrists that he felt only because of the heat of friction. He could handle it. He wasn’t some soft-bellied Westerner who cried when they couldn’t watch their kiddy porn, he could handle this. He would do anything for this to work.
His dry tongue worked against the gag in his mouth, trying to form some spit or something to distract him from the side of his face pressed against the concrete. His cheek was starting to stick a little from the cold. When he opened his eyes, he could see nothing, just a blissful calm darkness. His other senses had been heightened because of this long period of darkness. Yao’s hearing was more sensitive, his touch felt everything and when he ate, even the simple rice they fed him had layers of flavor and he devoured it. The days felt endless, even more so than most of his life, because there was no differentiation between day and night, only meals which came and went as they pleased.
He became bored and slept a lot, mostly, his mind dim and dark and quiet. Yes. This was best, it worked. America owed him a lot of money. Only recently had he really started to keep track of the days. The world was coming to visit him. Perhaps he would see them. He could show them how great he had become. He could stretch his muscles, do some roaming around, maybe.
The floor beneath him made the tiniest of vibrations, one that didn’t shift the earth but trembled beneath his exposed ear. Yao paid closer attention, listening carefully. Muffled through the door, he could hear a guard speaking.
“I’m sorry, but China does not wish to speak to you, however you may go to the opening ceremony if you wish to see his might,” the English words echoed throughout the room and reverberated through the silence. Yao swallowed and listened, his thoughts in tangles. Would this English speaking person get past?
“Didn’t stop me last time mate,” that voice fell over Yao’s ears like water and he acutely felt his position on the floor. How lewd it seemed now, how provocative. China tensed at the sound of a scuffle and outburst of Mandarin at the door. A body fell limp and was pushed to the side. “Nothing personal.” There was a pause and a click as the door at the top of the stairs opened. A layer of sound that Yao had forgotten about drifted in; the door had been soundproofed so that even his muffled grunts were unheard of.
Arthur’s hand shuffled along the wall, and Yao could hear him patting for the switch occasionally. But Yao knew there was none to be found; only the swinging bulb that hung somewhere over his head and brought the blinding light.
Chinese Democracy, Let’s Spend the Night Together (2/8)
anonymous
January 6 2010, 02:29:37 UTC
“Yao?” the Englishman was getting much closer, his voice so loud after so much silence.
Yao squinted his eyes shut, trying to disappear. Please don’t see me like this. Please don’t see me like this. Please don’t see me like this. There was a click of plastic, but no blinding light. Arthur’s footsteps had reached the lower half of the stairs. Just a bit forward and to the left, tucked out of sight of the stairs would be Yao.
More footsteps and he was suddenly at ground level. He stood there, quiet except his breathing, which Yao was sure stirred hairs on the back of his neck. Then his phone rang, un-muffled by his pocket, glaringly loud. He let it ring for a bit, then he answered.
“Kirkland here.” Yao could recognize America’s voice on the other end, though it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear every word. “Yes. But…Yes. He says he doesn’t want to see us.” America’s voice got a bit louder. “Tell him yourself when you get here, you git.” More speech. “Alright. Bye.”
A click of plastic. It must have been the buttons on his cell phone. China’s breathing past the gag in his mouth seemed even louder than normal and Arthur’s feet circled closer on the cement.
There was another click of plastic and England’s heavy shoes echoed off the floor and became so loud it became personal. They stopped next to his head, and Yao could hear Arthur breathing. He swallowed and squinted his eyes even further shut, willing himself to just disappear. The silence yawned for a minute.
“Well. That’s quite the position you have yourself in, Yao.” Yao swallowed, teeth grinding down on the gag in his mouth, his eyes were open now, though his vision had not changed. He stared straight forward in burning humiliation; it wasn’t as if he had placed himself in this position, and he was still better off than Arthur. There was a shift of cloth as the Englishman moved and the pull and click of the bulb as it turned on. It hurt Yao’s eyes even through the blindfold. “Quite.”
Arthur’s shoes creaked near Yao’s head and England’s voice came much closer. “If this is the position you are in, I wonder if you really don’t want us here,” his hand brushed back a long strand of Yao’s hair behind an ear and Yao shivered at the contact.
Of course he didn’t want them here. To see him humiliated and degraded like this? No.
Yao shook his head, his breath whistling in harshly through the gag. England’s hand drew back and Yao felt relief but also a strange sense of longing in its place.
“Perhaps we could help you,” Arthur’s voice had lost its more intimate tone and become more business-like. They’d been right. They’d been right to be worried that England and America would try to rile him up. China had known something like this would happen. But he was happy where he was! At least, until they got here and were looking at him like this. Yao shook his head again. No. Stay out of this. This is none of your business. There was a tense silence in which Yao could not hear England breathe, until it came whooshing out. “I can’t believe this. I must hear it from you. Can you truly look me in the eye and say that?” His hands reached for where the gag was tied behind Yao’s head.
Chinese Democracy, Let’s Spend the Night Together (3/8)
anonymous
January 6 2010, 02:31:14 UTC
Yao continued to shake his head, trying to keep England from grabbing it, but he held him still and pulled it loose in one jerking motion.
Yao took the first full breath he had taken in a long time. England’s hands went for the blindfold as well but Yao spoke. “Stop.” Arthur’s hands halted. “I have nothing to say. I don’t need to see you.”
“Bullocks.” Yao panicked as the blindfold was messed with, shifting upwards on his eyes.
“There is nothing about you that I need to see, nothing even remotely appealing, all I see is corruption! You’re ugly; I don’t want to see you!”
The silence stretched, ugly like a line of scratched out words on paper, smeared ink marring the façade of normalcy, of the flow of words, making it stare up, a blotch. England’s breathing was louder. He must be furious. Yao hoped this wouldn’t interfere with business.
“I think you’ve said enough.” Arthur started to put the gag back on when the door at the top of the stairs opened loudly, hitting the opposite wall.
“Don’t worry y’all, the hero is here!” America’s footsteps were just as loud as he bounded down the stairs. “Sorry I took so long, got caught in traffic, I-” Yao cringed when Alfred trailed off.
“Did I…Did I interrupt something?” Alfred coughed nervously.
“No, not at all, Yao here was just telling me how he truly felt about us,” England didn’t rise from his position. “Yao, did you have anything you’d like to say to America as well? Or is it just me personally that you think of this way?”
Mei guo, the name China commonly referred to America as, means beautiful country in English. “It is the same for both of you. I have nothing else to say to either of you.”
America’s voice was closer now, coming a bit behind England’s. “What’d he say?” Arthur didn’t respond, but Yao could sense movement from the Englishman, and Alfred shifted closer.
“Yao?”
“I don’t want to look at you, I have nothing else to say,” Yao pressed his lips into a firm line, tensing his muscles to keep the quiver out of them.
“Yao. Don’t you think you’re being a bit overdramatic here? I mean, I know we have our differences but it’s not like we’re in some epic diplomacy battle like I was with Ivan or something,” Alfred paused, perhaps waiting for some response from China, but Yao wouldn’t give it to him. “There’s nothing we can do here Alfred, if he doesn’t want to listen to us or speak to us, he doesn’t have to,” Arthur sounded tired. “It was a long flight here and I’m certain you have jet lag, I know I do.” There was a pause and Alfred let out a sigh in acknowledgment, the closest England was going to get to being told he was right by America. Arthur tied the gag back in place slowly and Yao felt the ache he’d felt earlier in his chest come back full fledged as he tasted the cloth of the gag once more. Arthur began to stand up and Alfred put one hand on Yao’s back. The pressure felt wondrous after being stuck in the same position for so long and without meaning to Yao pushed back slightly against his hand, trying to crack his back or something, anything to relieve some of the tension there.
Chinese Democracy, Let’s Spend the Night Together (4/8)
anonymous
January 6 2010, 02:32:48 UTC
Both England and America stilled. Yao stiffened. Had that really just happened? Yao waited. A hand from where Arthur had been rising reached out and pressed against his shoulder. Miraculously, China’s body pushed back of its own volition. This was humiliating! Rather than laughing, Arthur’s hand reacted, pressing harder and squeezing the flesh there, kneading it like dough. Yao trembled. He had not been treated in this way for quite a while and it felt wonderful. The hand stopped and Yao nearly groaned in disappointment but he bit hard on the gag, managing to keep himself silent. His shoulder twitched at the loss. Why wouldn’t they just leave already?
Then Alfred’s hand moved, the superpower readjusting and using the heel of his gloved hand to push at the muscle there. Yao felt them part and return back together, becoming slacker and his eyes drifted closed lazily. Arthur’s hand joined Alfred’s on his back and Yao felt even better. The repetitive, gyrating motion of their hands soothed even as it enticed. A long sigh came out of Yao before he could stop it.
“Are you sure you don’t want us here, China?” China could hear the smile in Alfred’s voice. Yao nodded his head, stiffening. Arthur’s hand paused thoughtfully then drew across and down his shoulder, over to his bound arms. One finger trailed lightly down his inner arm, over his elbow and wrist, running up his upturned palms to the tips of his fingers. Yao felt a different sort of pleasure, one that was mostly anticipation and made him shiver.
“You know, you give very conflicting messages, Yao,” Arthur had a very light layer of mocking in his tone, barely noticeable. Yao scowled.
Alfred’s hands dipped down the curves of China’s back to the seam where his shirt was tucked into his pants. Not touching China he made a jerking motion and Yao heard his gloves fall to the ground. Carefully, deftly, he untucked the cloth around Yao’s waist and his hands slipped under to touch his skin. Calloused hands went up, brushing over the side of his ribcage and sliding back down his curved stomach of withheld breath. England gently pressed a thin finger between Yao’s wrist and the rope binding it, circling around the sensitive skin there before pulling out deliberately. Yao’s gasp was muffled by the gag when England pulled China’s face from the ground by his hair, causing him to sit up on his haunches.
Not one to be put off, Alfred withdrew his hands and moved around to the front of China instead, working at the buttons on Yao’s western shirt. Arthur leaned forward, placing one hand on Yao’s chest as he moved closer. Yao felt the air around his neck seem to change before he felt wet warmth there, softly it moved, opening slightly and teeth scraped against his skin, sending fire to his belly. “Mmph.” Arthur’s hand slid down from Yao’s chest to his groin, pressed comfortably against his lap and Yao’s torso was suddenly exposed to cool air.
America felt the smooth muscle of Yao’s stomach, rising up and fanning out across his collarbone, his hands warm against the cold. England’s mouth moved harder against China’s neck and his fingers tangled in Yao’s hair, cool fingers dipping through his hair and massaging his scalp. Shuddering, Yao held back a moan; his mind was becoming hazier, wanting them to stop but not doing anything to fight them. He’d lain still for so long he’d forgotten how to struggle. Alfred’s hair and hot breath tickled across Yao’s shoulder and down, pressing soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses against the skin there. It seemed almost tentative, shy, until his sharp teeth clamped down on Yao’s nipple, making him cry out.
Chinese Democracy, Let’s Spend the Night Together (5/8)
anonymous
January 6 2010, 02:34:07 UTC
England’s lips twisted into a smile against Yao’s neck as America’s tongue worked at soothing the tingling pleasure-plain of his nipple. “You like this then, do you?” his breath was hot against the curve of Yao’s ear. Yao tried to shake his head but England held it still and his hand squeezed gently where it was placed down below, making Yao moan quietly.
“Now I don’t speak Chinese, but that sounds like a yes to me,” America was smiling again against Yao’s nipple, his fingers grazing low on Yao’s belly, dipping provocatively into his navel as if it were an orifice to be pleased. China shook his head but was ignored. America kissed further down, his tongue replacing his finger at Yao’s navel, darting in and out, swirling around the outer limits in a suggestive manner that made Yao shudder. When Alfred pulled back, the cold that had already hardened the previously attended nipple spread goose bumps around his belly button; he felt a line of saliva snap against his skin and he felt dizzy.
The hand at his groin ground down on a forming humiliation in his lap, making Yao twist underneath it, whether to escape or make more friction he wasn’t sure, but waves of pleasure lapped at him, distracting him. He breathed loudly through his nose, only stopping when he felt Arthur move. England caught Yao’s bottom lip in his teeth, gently sucking and swirling his tongue over the steadily swelling flesh. Stomach muscles twitching under the assault, a muffled groan escaped past the gag in Yao’s mouth as his hair was released from its hold at the nape of his neck.
America was at his back, heat radiating from his chest and when he came closer Yao could feel Alfred’s erection against the base of his spine, touching his fingertips. Trembling, Yao let out another low moan when Arthur’s hands went from squeezing through cloth to wiggling his hand under the protective layer between them. England bit Yao’s lip in response to the noise, tilting his head more, his tongue working against the gag in China’s mouth, encouraging even with a barrier between them. For the first time in a long time Yao felt his need for the gag to be gone triple.
He felt a rough tug and cool air suddenly at his wrists. America had released them and he heard the shirt that had been pushed to his wrists fall to the wayside. Before Yao could perhaps strike out or try to escape, not that his foggy mind had thought of that, Alfred pushed the Chinese man’s hands down to the ground on either side of England’s shoulders. Arthur, for his part, leaned back obligingly, falling onto one elbow, the other hand knotted in Yao’s hair, his mouth still pressed to Yao’s.
America bit the nape of China’s neck, soothing with his tongue and breathing hotly. England untangled his hand in Yao’s hair and ran it down his front, reaching down the man’s pants and stroking there, gripping Yao’s length and enticing it to grow, which it did, oozing precum. Hips bucking instinctively, China threw back his head, baring his neck and freeing England’s mouth. America leaned even further forward over Yao’s body and kissed his exposed neck. Yao felt England shift and heard a kiss but felt nothing on his person until America’s hand swooped around and tightened around England’s, moving England’s hand to stroke China faster.
Alfred’s voice was somewhat thick when he spoke, “For someone who doesn’t even want to see us, for someone who doesn’t want to be corrupted by us, you seem awfully hard.” Arthur leaned up and Yao felt the gentle tug of his teeth pulling on the gag in his mouth. America’s hand released from around England’s and reached back, pulling at where the gag was tied. It fell loosely to the ground and Yao’s panting filled the air.
Chinese Democracy, Let’s Spend the Night Together (6/8)
anonymous
January 6 2010, 02:35:38 UTC
It was swallowed by England’s mouth, his tongue pushing Yao’s into action and coaxing more noise from him. Arthur’s hands left their places and tangled into Yao’s hair as England’s kissing became more active, pressing his warm clothed chest against China’s bare one, the cloth creating friction between them.
It was then that America pulled off the blindfold, blinding Yao. While his eyes adjusted, Alfred teased Yao’s length and stroked his balls much to lightly, taking them into one hand and massaging them gently. Yao felt dizzy, his palms were gaining heat and going numb while the rest of his body pulsed with energy. He had to breathe through his nose to get any air and even then the two nations had to pull back after their energetic exchange, after all Yao had not just been addicted to opium and Arthur not only tea. His mouth unoccupied, China gasped and panted desperately, arching back against America and his teasing hands.
Arthur remained still underneath the two of them, merely watching and Yao barely noticed those staring green eyes in this blinding fluorescent light. America chuckled next to Yao’s ear and licked his neck playfully, keeping his pace frustratingly slow. “Yao…We’d like to know what you actually think…” England shuffled down carefully so his legs went further under the two above and he was an eyelash away from where America’s hands were toying with China. “Your people, like you, need a say in the way things are run, don’t they?”
Yao’s head dropped forward and he looked at England between his legs, trying to arch closer to the island nation. Arthur pressed a soft kiss to America’s hands wrapped around China and they twitched slightly before pulling carefully away. Yao felt Arthur’s nose nudge against him before his mouth twisted into a better position. When wet heat was applied there Yao let out the loudest moan yet, throwing back his head in frustration. He bit his lip so hard it made a spike of pain lance through the tender flesh and he let his mouth fall open.
Skin so sensitized to the pleasure, America’s gentle touches, unsure and carefully placed nearly hurt, making an ache sizzle across the surface. “Yao…” he whispered. “You can do this…” England chose that moment to completely swallow China’s length. “Unnn!” Yao’s skin trembled with an earthquake and he rocked under pressure. “I-” He gasped for air and started to shake his head. America this time held his head straight with long strands of black.
“Speak for yourself Yao.”
“We won’t let you cum until you do.” There was something about the muffled speech around one’s manhood, vibrating across the skin that is as hilarious as it is horrifically arousing. Yao’s moan was choked off with something like incredulous laughter.
“Stay out of-unh!” The bite from America stung on his shoulder and Alfred lapped at it apologetically.
“Sorry, what were you saying Yao?”
“Mmmm… just…just do it please…” Yao’s mouth seemed to move without him giving it the okay, as it were there was barely enough breath behind it to actually make a noise. Strands of his hair were beginning to stick to his back from the heat and his eyes felt tired from even this limited exposure.
“I couldn’t quite hear that,” Arthur spoke up from underneath Yao. Alfred rocked behind China, rubbing the bulge in his pants against his bottom and prompting a higher sort of wail to escape from Yao.
Chinese Democracy, Let’s Spend the Night Together (7/8)
anonymous
January 6 2010, 02:36:53 UTC
“I-I want you to-unh-please!”
“So we’re good enough for you then?” Arthur pulled his mouth away from Yao, making the dark haired man hiss through his teeth, cringing.
“Yes.”
The British man shuffled quickly up China’s body, and grabbed his chin. “I want you to look at this ugly face when you say it.” Yao opened his eyes to the blinding light and before him was Arthur, the serious, gentle, sloping lines of his face and the deep emerald of his eyes waiting for an answer, his prominent eyebrows furrowed and his upper lip stiff.
“Please-” Yao let out.
“And America?” Arthur was unceasing. Said man shifted from his position so he was in front of Yao as well. His face was rather flushed but he had a rather unabashed grin on his face, blue eyes glimmering past his foggy glasses, he had a face that knew victory.
Yao felt the heat on his face increase. “Yes, please-” he whimpered, making a wave of self-hate course through him.
That was when America crawled forward and pushed Yao onto his back, letting his legs unfold for the first time in a long time. He tugged down Yao’s pants to his ankles and Arthur tended to China’s dick in the meantime. When America had inched his way back up they shared the flesh between them, their tongues intersecting and sliding over the skin, hot trails of saliva leaving behind a gentle cool that made Yao desire more speed. His hands tangled in America’s hair first, then reached down and tugged Arthur’s as well. His toes curled underneath him even as the two nations increased drastically from where they had started. He was unable to control his hips, grinding against them, but he could feel a familiar tension coiling that he knew as the beginning of the end.
Yao’s voice came much louder than before in shorter bursts, not caring who heard him, urging them on. “There! There! Yessss, right there,” it started in English but eventually boiled down to Chinese of any sort, just blurting out whatever came to mind in Mandarin or Cantonese, his only thought to the obscene wet slide below. He twisted and grit his teeth as America and England seemed to even forget they had ever had separate mouths and pressed and swallowed, trying to stimulate everything they could reach, intersecting wildly and not seeming to care. A careful brush of teeth from America forced an even higher noise and when Yao finally let out the triumphant sound of someone who came with satisfaction, his muscles nearly cramped from how tightly they squeezed.
The western powers attended to cleaning up semen from around his stomach and from where it leaked around his penis quietly. Their roaming mouths made a content shiver pass through Yao and he watched their two blond heads so humbly bowed move up and down his abdomen and groin. He felt boneless with relaxation, his mind even hazier than before but filled with blissful peace. He tried to stay awake but his eyes slipped closed and it went downhill from there. His dreams rolled as if carried on waves and Yao felt unbearably comfortable. He dreamt of happy times, golden times when things were just quiet enough, when he was free to walk about. He missed light coming in past the bamboo and he missed seeing his people, even if sometimes it hurt.
Chinese Democracy, Let’s Spend the Night Together (8/8)
anonymous
January 6 2010, 02:38:24 UTC
Waking up, Yao felt his clothes had been placed back on and he felt the familiar curved upright position of his back, his face pressed against the cold cement. America and England were gone. The Olympics must have been over. They were done seeing China’s might. Maybe they could see more…But what could China do in a position like this but act as a whore? Yao felt a wave of some intense emotion roll through him but he stifled it quietly. There was no use getting this way, he was going to be stuck like this for a long while, so what was the point getting riled up?
(Seriously, I am so glad this is anonymous because that has to be the raunchiest, longwinded thing I have ever written. XD)
It was alright that things were like this, Yao reflected. After all, how bad could it be if America, the world’s only superpower, owed him more money than anyone else? People spoke of the rise of the East, so many things in America’s house had been made by the Chinese. The Olympics were going to be held in China, beginning tonight!
This little price he paid was nothing. Communism was a success and no one could tell him otherwise.
Yao wriggled his hands from where they were behind his back, tied. The circulation wasn’t very good, normally they tried to keep from cutting off his circulation when he was tied, but his higher-ups were concerned that Yao would get cocky with others around to see him. The ropes left red indents in his wrists that he felt only because of the heat of friction. He could handle it. He wasn’t some soft-bellied Westerner who cried when they couldn’t watch their kiddy porn, he could handle this. He would do anything for this to work.
His dry tongue worked against the gag in his mouth, trying to form some spit or something to distract him from the side of his face pressed against the concrete. His cheek was starting to stick a little from the cold. When he opened his eyes, he could see nothing, just a blissful calm darkness. His other senses had been heightened because of this long period of darkness. Yao’s hearing was more sensitive, his touch felt everything and when he ate, even the simple rice they fed him had layers of flavor and he devoured it. The days felt endless, even more so than most of his life, because there was no differentiation between day and night, only meals which came and went as they pleased.
He became bored and slept a lot, mostly, his mind dim and dark and quiet. Yes. This was best, it worked. America owed him a lot of money. Only recently had he really started to keep track of the days. The world was coming to visit him. Perhaps he would see them. He could show them how great he had become. He could stretch his muscles, do some roaming around, maybe.
The floor beneath him made the tiniest of vibrations, one that didn’t shift the earth but trembled beneath his exposed ear. Yao paid closer attention, listening carefully. Muffled through the door, he could hear a guard speaking.
“I’m sorry, but China does not wish to speak to you, however you may go to the opening ceremony if you wish to see his might,” the English words echoed throughout the room and reverberated through the silence. Yao swallowed and listened, his thoughts in tangles. Would this English speaking person get past?
“Didn’t stop me last time mate,” that voice fell over Yao’s ears like water and he acutely felt his position on the floor. How lewd it seemed now, how provocative. China tensed at the sound of a scuffle and outburst of Mandarin at the door. A body fell limp and was pushed to the side. “Nothing personal.” There was a pause and a click as the door at the top of the stairs opened. A layer of sound that Yao had forgotten about drifted in; the door had been soundproofed so that even his muffled grunts were unheard of.
Arthur’s hand shuffled along the wall, and Yao could hear him patting for the switch occasionally. But Yao knew there was none to be found; only the swinging bulb that hung somewhere over his head and brought the blinding light.
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Yao squinted his eyes shut, trying to disappear. Please don’t see me like this. Please don’t see me like this. Please don’t see me like this. There was a click of plastic, but no blinding light. Arthur’s footsteps had reached the lower half of the stairs. Just a bit forward and to the left, tucked out of sight of the stairs would be Yao.
More footsteps and he was suddenly at ground level. He stood there, quiet except his breathing, which Yao was sure stirred hairs on the back of his neck. Then his phone rang, un-muffled by his pocket, glaringly loud. He let it ring for a bit, then he answered.
“Kirkland here.”
Yao could recognize America’s voice on the other end, though it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear every word.
“Yes. But…Yes. He says he doesn’t want to see us.”
America’s voice got a bit louder.
“Tell him yourself when you get here, you git.”
More speech.
“Alright. Bye.”
A click of plastic. It must have been the buttons on his cell phone. China’s breathing past the gag in his mouth seemed even louder than normal and Arthur’s feet circled closer on the cement.
There was another click of plastic and England’s heavy shoes echoed off the floor and became so loud it became personal. They stopped next to his head, and Yao could hear Arthur breathing. He swallowed and squinted his eyes even further shut, willing himself to just disappear. The silence yawned for a minute.
“Well. That’s quite the position you have yourself in, Yao.”
Yao swallowed, teeth grinding down on the gag in his mouth, his eyes were open now, though his vision had not changed. He stared straight forward in burning humiliation; it wasn’t as if he had placed himself in this position, and he was still better off than Arthur. There was a shift of cloth as the Englishman moved and the pull and click of the bulb as it turned on. It hurt Yao’s eyes even through the blindfold. “Quite.”
Arthur’s shoes creaked near Yao’s head and England’s voice came much closer. “If this is the position you are in, I wonder if you really don’t want us here,” his hand brushed back a long strand of Yao’s hair behind an ear and Yao shivered at the contact.
Of course he didn’t want them here. To see him humiliated and degraded like this? No.
Yao shook his head, his breath whistling in harshly through the gag. England’s hand drew back and Yao felt relief but also a strange sense of longing in its place.
“Perhaps we could help you,” Arthur’s voice had lost its more intimate tone and become more business-like. They’d been right. They’d been right to be worried that England and America would try to rile him up. China had known something like this would happen. But he was happy where he was! At least, until they got here and were looking at him like this.
Yao shook his head again. No. Stay out of this. This is none of your business. There was a tense silence in which Yao could not hear England breathe, until it came whooshing out. “I can’t believe this. I must hear it from you. Can you truly look me in the eye and say that?” His hands reached for where the gag was tied behind Yao’s head.
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Yao took the first full breath he had taken in a long time. England’s hands went for the blindfold as well but Yao spoke. “Stop.” Arthur’s hands halted. “I have nothing to say. I don’t need to see you.”
“Bullocks.” Yao panicked as the blindfold was messed with, shifting upwards on his eyes.
“There is nothing about you that I need to see, nothing even remotely appealing, all I see is corruption! You’re ugly; I don’t want to see you!”
The silence stretched, ugly like a line of scratched out words on paper, smeared ink marring the façade of normalcy, of the flow of words, making it stare up, a blotch. England’s breathing was louder. He must be furious. Yao hoped this wouldn’t interfere with business.
“I think you’ve said enough.” Arthur started to put the gag back on when the door at the top of the stairs opened loudly, hitting the opposite wall.
“Don’t worry y’all, the hero is here!” America’s footsteps were just as loud as he bounded down the stairs. “Sorry I took so long, got caught in traffic, I-” Yao cringed when Alfred trailed off.
“Did I…Did I interrupt something?” Alfred coughed nervously.
“No, not at all, Yao here was just telling me how he truly felt about us,” England didn’t rise from his position. “Yao, did you have anything you’d like to say to America as well? Or is it just me personally that you think of this way?”
Mei guo, the name China commonly referred to America as, means beautiful country in English. “It is the same for both of you. I have nothing else to say to either of you.”
America’s voice was closer now, coming a bit behind England’s. “What’d he say?” Arthur didn’t respond, but Yao could sense movement from the Englishman, and Alfred shifted closer.
“Yao?”
“I don’t want to look at you, I have nothing else to say,” Yao pressed his lips into a firm line, tensing his muscles to keep the quiver out of them.
“Yao. Don’t you think you’re being a bit overdramatic here? I mean, I know we have our differences but it’s not like we’re in some epic diplomacy battle like I was with Ivan or something,” Alfred paused, perhaps waiting for some response from China, but Yao wouldn’t give it to him.
“There’s nothing we can do here Alfred, if he doesn’t want to listen to us or speak to us, he doesn’t have to,” Arthur sounded tired. “It was a long flight here and I’m certain you have jet lag, I know I do.” There was a pause and Alfred let out a sigh in acknowledgment, the closest England was going to get to being told he was right by America. Arthur tied the gag back in place slowly and Yao felt the ache he’d felt earlier in his chest come back full fledged as he tasted the cloth of the gag once more. Arthur began to stand up and Alfred put one hand on Yao’s back. The pressure felt wondrous after being stuck in the same position for so long and without meaning to Yao pushed back slightly against his hand, trying to crack his back or something, anything to relieve some of the tension there.
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Then Alfred’s hand moved, the superpower readjusting and using the heel of his gloved hand to push at the muscle there. Yao felt them part and return back together, becoming slacker and his eyes drifted closed lazily. Arthur’s hand joined Alfred’s on his back and Yao felt even better. The repetitive, gyrating motion of their hands soothed even as it enticed. A long sigh came out of Yao before he could stop it.
“Are you sure you don’t want us here, China?” China could hear the smile in Alfred’s voice. Yao nodded his head, stiffening. Arthur’s hand paused thoughtfully then drew across and down his shoulder, over to his bound arms. One finger trailed lightly down his inner arm, over his elbow and wrist, running up his upturned palms to the tips of his fingers. Yao felt a different sort of pleasure, one that was mostly anticipation and made him shiver.
“You know, you give very conflicting messages, Yao,” Arthur had a very light layer of mocking in his tone, barely noticeable. Yao scowled.
Alfred’s hands dipped down the curves of China’s back to the seam where his shirt was tucked into his pants. Not touching China he made a jerking motion and Yao heard his gloves fall to the ground. Carefully, deftly, he untucked the cloth around Yao’s waist and his hands slipped under to touch his skin. Calloused hands went up, brushing over the side of his ribcage and sliding back down his curved stomach of withheld breath. England gently pressed a thin finger between Yao’s wrist and the rope binding it, circling around the sensitive skin there before pulling out deliberately. Yao’s gasp was muffled by the gag when England pulled China’s face from the ground by his hair, causing him to sit up on his haunches.
Not one to be put off, Alfred withdrew his hands and moved around to the front of China instead, working at the buttons on Yao’s western shirt. Arthur leaned forward, placing one hand on Yao’s chest as he moved closer. Yao felt the air around his neck seem to change before he felt wet warmth there, softly it moved, opening slightly and teeth scraped against his skin, sending fire to his belly. “Mmph.” Arthur’s hand slid down from Yao’s chest to his groin, pressed comfortably against his lap and Yao’s torso was suddenly exposed to cool air.
America felt the smooth muscle of Yao’s stomach, rising up and fanning out across his collarbone, his hands warm against the cold. England’s mouth moved harder against China’s neck and his fingers tangled in Yao’s hair, cool fingers dipping through his hair and massaging his scalp. Shuddering, Yao held back a moan; his mind was becoming hazier, wanting them to stop but not doing anything to fight them. He’d lain still for so long he’d forgotten how to struggle. Alfred’s hair and hot breath tickled across Yao’s shoulder and down, pressing soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses against the skin there. It seemed almost tentative, shy, until his sharp teeth clamped down on Yao’s nipple, making him cry out.
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“Now I don’t speak Chinese, but that sounds like a yes to me,” America was smiling again against Yao’s nipple, his fingers grazing low on Yao’s belly, dipping provocatively into his navel as if it were an orifice to be pleased. China shook his head but was ignored. America kissed further down, his tongue replacing his finger at Yao’s navel, darting in and out, swirling around the outer limits in a suggestive manner that made Yao shudder. When Alfred pulled back, the cold that had already hardened the previously attended nipple spread goose bumps around his belly button; he felt a line of saliva snap against his skin and he felt dizzy.
The hand at his groin ground down on a forming humiliation in his lap, making Yao twist underneath it, whether to escape or make more friction he wasn’t sure, but waves of pleasure lapped at him, distracting him. He breathed loudly through his nose, only stopping when he felt Arthur move. England caught Yao’s bottom lip in his teeth, gently sucking and swirling his tongue over the steadily swelling flesh. Stomach muscles twitching under the assault, a muffled groan escaped past the gag in Yao’s mouth as his hair was released from its hold at the nape of his neck.
America was at his back, heat radiating from his chest and when he came closer Yao could feel Alfred’s erection against the base of his spine, touching his fingertips. Trembling, Yao let out another low moan when Arthur’s hands went from squeezing through cloth to wiggling his hand under the protective layer between them. England bit Yao’s lip in response to the noise, tilting his head more, his tongue working against the gag in China’s mouth, encouraging even with a barrier between them. For the first time in a long time Yao felt his need for the gag to be gone triple.
He felt a rough tug and cool air suddenly at his wrists. America had released them and he heard the shirt that had been pushed to his wrists fall to the wayside. Before Yao could perhaps strike out or try to escape, not that his foggy mind had thought of that, Alfred pushed the Chinese man’s hands down to the ground on either side of England’s shoulders. Arthur, for his part, leaned back obligingly, falling onto one elbow, the other hand knotted in Yao’s hair, his mouth still pressed to Yao’s.
America bit the nape of China’s neck, soothing with his tongue and breathing hotly. England untangled his hand in Yao’s hair and ran it down his front, reaching down the man’s pants and stroking there, gripping Yao’s length and enticing it to grow, which it did, oozing precum. Hips bucking instinctively, China threw back his head, baring his neck and freeing England’s mouth. America leaned even further forward over Yao’s body and kissed his exposed neck. Yao felt England shift and heard a kiss but felt nothing on his person until America’s hand swooped around and tightened around England’s, moving England’s hand to stroke China faster.
Alfred’s voice was somewhat thick when he spoke, “For someone who doesn’t even want to see us, for someone who doesn’t want to be corrupted by us, you seem awfully hard.” Arthur leaned up and Yao felt the gentle tug of his teeth pulling on the gag in his mouth. America’s hand released from around England’s and reached back, pulling at where the gag was tied. It fell loosely to the ground and Yao’s panting filled the air.
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It was then that America pulled off the blindfold, blinding Yao. While his eyes adjusted, Alfred teased Yao’s length and stroked his balls much to lightly, taking them into one hand and massaging them gently. Yao felt dizzy, his palms were gaining heat and going numb while the rest of his body pulsed with energy. He had to breathe through his nose to get any air and even then the two nations had to pull back after their energetic exchange, after all Yao had not just been addicted to opium and Arthur not only tea. His mouth unoccupied, China gasped and panted desperately, arching back against America and his teasing hands.
Arthur remained still underneath the two of them, merely watching and Yao barely noticed those staring green eyes in this blinding fluorescent light. America chuckled next to Yao’s ear and licked his neck playfully, keeping his pace frustratingly slow. “Yao…We’d like to know what you actually think…” England shuffled down carefully so his legs went further under the two above and he was an eyelash away from where America’s hands were toying with China. “Your people, like you, need a say in the way things are run, don’t they?”
Yao’s head dropped forward and he looked at England between his legs, trying to arch closer to the island nation. Arthur pressed a soft kiss to America’s hands wrapped around China and they twitched slightly before pulling carefully away. Yao felt Arthur’s nose nudge against him before his mouth twisted into a better position. When wet heat was applied there Yao let out the loudest moan yet, throwing back his head in frustration. He bit his lip so hard it made a spike of pain lance through the tender flesh and he let his mouth fall open.
Skin so sensitized to the pleasure, America’s gentle touches, unsure and carefully placed nearly hurt, making an ache sizzle across the surface. “Yao…” he whispered. “You can do this…” England chose that moment to completely swallow China’s length. “Unnn!” Yao’s skin trembled with an earthquake and he rocked under pressure. “I-” He gasped for air and started to shake his head. America this time held his head straight with long strands of black.
“Speak for yourself Yao.”
“We won’t let you cum until you do.” There was something about the muffled speech around one’s manhood, vibrating across the skin that is as hilarious as it is horrifically arousing. Yao’s moan was choked off with something like incredulous laughter.
“Stay out of-unh!” The bite from America stung on his shoulder and Alfred lapped at it apologetically.
“Sorry, what were you saying Yao?”
“Mmmm… just…just do it please…” Yao’s mouth seemed to move without him giving it the okay, as it were there was barely enough breath behind it to actually make a noise. Strands of his hair were beginning to stick to his back from the heat and his eyes felt tired from even this limited exposure.
“I couldn’t quite hear that,” Arthur spoke up from underneath Yao. Alfred rocked behind China, rubbing the bulge in his pants against his bottom and prompting a higher sort of wail to escape from Yao.
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“So we’re good enough for you then?” Arthur pulled his mouth away from Yao, making the dark haired man hiss through his teeth, cringing.
“Yes.”
The British man shuffled quickly up China’s body, and grabbed his chin. “I want you to look at this ugly face when you say it.” Yao opened his eyes to the blinding light and before him was Arthur, the serious, gentle, sloping lines of his face and the deep emerald of his eyes waiting for an answer, his prominent eyebrows furrowed and his upper lip stiff.
“Please-” Yao let out.
“And America?” Arthur was unceasing. Said man shifted from his position so he was in front of Yao as well. His face was rather flushed but he had a rather unabashed grin on his face, blue eyes glimmering past his foggy glasses, he had a face that knew victory.
Yao felt the heat on his face increase. “Yes, please-” he whimpered, making a wave of self-hate course through him.
That was when America crawled forward and pushed Yao onto his back, letting his legs unfold for the first time in a long time. He tugged down Yao’s pants to his ankles and Arthur tended to China’s dick in the meantime. When America had inched his way back up they shared the flesh between them, their tongues intersecting and sliding over the skin, hot trails of saliva leaving behind a gentle cool that made Yao desire more speed. His hands tangled in America’s hair first, then reached down and tugged Arthur’s as well. His toes curled underneath him even as the two nations increased drastically from where they had started. He was unable to control his hips, grinding against them, but he could feel a familiar tension coiling that he knew as the beginning of the end.
Yao’s voice came much louder than before in shorter bursts, not caring who heard him, urging them on. “There! There! Yessss, right there,” it started in English but eventually boiled down to Chinese of any sort, just blurting out whatever came to mind in Mandarin or Cantonese, his only thought to the obscene wet slide below. He twisted and grit his teeth as America and England seemed to even forget they had ever had separate mouths and pressed and swallowed, trying to stimulate everything they could reach, intersecting wildly and not seeming to care. A careful brush of teeth from America forced an even higher noise and when Yao finally let out the triumphant sound of someone who came with satisfaction, his muscles nearly cramped from how tightly they squeezed.
The western powers attended to cleaning up semen from around his stomach and from where it leaked around his penis quietly. Their roaming mouths made a content shiver pass through Yao and he watched their two blond heads so humbly bowed move up and down his abdomen and groin. He felt boneless with relaxation, his mind even hazier than before but filled with blissful peace. He tried to stay awake but his eyes slipped closed and it went downhill from there. His dreams rolled as if carried on waves and Yao felt unbearably comfortable. He dreamt of happy times, golden times when things were just quiet enough, when he was free to walk about. He missed light coming in past the bamboo and he missed seeing his people, even if sometimes it hurt.
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(Seriously, I am so glad this is anonymous because that has to be the raunchiest, longwinded thing I have ever written. XD)
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