Conqueror of Worlds, prt 1: first sweden [2/2]
anonymous
May 21 2009, 04:31:28 UTC
Sweden just looked at them with mirth in his eyes, bringing his axe up and onto his shoulder. He spoke in a language France didn't recognize before he came at them. He lopped one police man's head clean off his shoulders before twirling and cutting another one's hands off. The other police all took about a second to realize what had happened before one of them shouted, "Tire sure lui!" and resounding gunfire sounded through the air. Sweden merely laughed even when one struck his shoulder, and as quickly as he dispatched the local police he dispatched these men too. He looked down at a fallen France who looked up at him in horror, eyes wandering to all the bodies of his men laying around him.
"Commant...?" the Frenchman asked, horror filling him. Who...who was this man standing before him, he'd never known Sweden to so easily kill anyone before in his life!
Smiling coldly Sweden thrust his axe into the ground and stalked over to France, grabbing him by the hair and throwing him face first into the dirt. He gave the Frenchman no time to recover as he viciously ripped the others clothing off, cutting with his still held sword what he couldn't rip, so the other was nearly completely naked before him.
"Arret! Arret!!" France started screaming, struggling to get away until the blade of the sword was pressed against the side of his neck. The other man was speaking to him but he simply could not understand the words, only the intention of the sword. He forced himself still until he heard the sound of clothing being opened and then felt something probing against him. "N-Non..." he moaned out in pain as the other forced his way in.
The fair haired nation didn't stop till he was all the way in, seated in the vast heat. Slowly at first he began thrusting but it quickly built up into a steady rhythm, lubricated by the blood that flowed down pail thighs.
There was no point screaming, as no one was really there that could help him, but France couldn't help himself and let out wracking sobs as he was raped brutally. This had all come up so fast that he wasn't even sure he was still awake...surely, surely this had to be a dream. Sweden came inside him and pulled out, using Francis' torn clothes to clean himself up before putting himself away. He said something else in that strange tongue before going back, grabbing a large sack of 'loot' he'd claimed for himself, grabbing Denmark as he passed him and leaving just as quick as he came.
France merely lay on the ground wondering what in the far heavens he did to deserve this before passing out.
"Commant...?" the Frenchman asked, horror filling him. Who...who was this man standing before him, he'd never known Sweden to so easily kill anyone before in his life!
Smiling coldly Sweden thrust his axe into the ground and stalked over to France, grabbing him by the hair and throwing him face first into the dirt. He gave the Frenchman no time to recover as he viciously ripped the others clothing off, cutting with his still held sword what he couldn't rip, so the other was nearly completely naked before him.
"Arret! Arret!!" France started screaming, struggling to get away until the blade of the sword was pressed against the side of his neck. The other man was speaking to him but he simply could not understand the words, only the intention of the sword. He forced himself still until he heard the sound of clothing being opened and then felt something probing against him. "N-Non..." he moaned out in pain as the other forced his way in.
The fair haired nation didn't stop till he was all the way in, seated in the vast heat. Slowly at first he began thrusting but it quickly built up into a steady rhythm, lubricated by the blood that flowed down pail thighs.
There was no point screaming, as no one was really there that could help him, but France couldn't help himself and let out wracking sobs as he was raped brutally. This had all come up so fast that he wasn't even sure he was still awake...surely, surely this had to be a dream. Sweden came inside him and pulled out, using Francis' torn clothes to clean himself up before putting himself away. He said something else in that strange tongue before going back, grabbing a large sack of 'loot' he'd claimed for himself, grabbing Denmark as he passed him and leaving just as quick as he came.
France merely lay on the ground wondering what in the far heavens he did to deserve this before passing out.
Reply
Leave a comment