Taste of Revenge [8/?]
anonymous
June 20 2009, 03:31:51 UTC
Thank you so much for your comments, guys! It’s really important to me to know what you’re thinking. This is harder than I thought - I blame artist!anon and her uber mad skillz. ***
“You can do the honors,” Francis said “Don’t go easy on him.”
“I’m not going easy on him. Look, he’s already glaring at me.”
“Ah, America, always so combative,” Russia says in his sing-song voice, letting go of his mouth. Alfred didn't have the time to say a word before Arthur grabbed his hair and lifted his head, forcing a finger between his lips:
“I should teach you how to use your mouth,” he said “Open wide.”
His zipper was already open, Alfred could see that, and he wondered when the British had the time to open it. Not that it mattered. He could see the other man’s impressive member, hard and erect, and he had only the time to take a deep breath before Arthur pushed his cock inside his mouth.
Easy. Simple and clean and straight to the point. Alfred had... not thought about it, not exactly, but maybe, during all those long tedious meetings, maybe the thought had crossed his mind, that Arthur would maybe be interested in one day, maybe they could...
But not like this. Never like this.
“You’re drooling so much”, Arthur said, casual, just an off-hand comment. Alfred didn't answer - he couldn't speak with a full mouth, he thought, feeling a sudden desperate need to laugh. It wouldn't be polite. Arthur didn't taste like anything and it was almost like licking his own arm, if he didn't think that it was Arthur’s cock feeling his mouth, Arthur’s curly golden hair under his nose. He wanted to scream, trying to keep his teeth away from Arthur’s skin, he wanted to throw up - and that was exactly what was going to happen if Arthur didn't put that thing away.
But then Arthur pulled back, and Alfred took one trembling relieved breath, saliva running down his chin.
“Please,” he whispered. Please, please...
“Begging from mercy already, America? You know that trick isn't going to work.”
Trick. That trick. As if Alfred were a child making huge puppy eyes trying to get more dessert. As if he were threatening to stomp his feet and hold his breath until Arthur give him a gift. As if he were sulking and pleading for Arthur not to leave him again.
That trick.
“You'll regret this, you bastard...”
“Not as much as I’ll enjoy it.” Arthur answered, green eyes narrowing. He rested his hands on Alfred’s knees and looked up at Ivan “You can let him go. I got him.”
Alfred couldn't see, but he sensed when Ivan got up and went away. He couldn't contemplate this because now Arthur was spreading his legs, keeling on the floor.
“Arthur...”
Arthur spread him a little more, than a little more, until there was nothing left to imagination, until Alfred was open and available and his hole was full on display.
“Arthur, I swear if you-”
His cock touched Alfred’s entrance, slightly. Then there was a brief pause when the world stood still and then-
Then Alfred screamed. Loud, very loud, his voice echoing from the roof and the walls, fuck, fuck it hurts, while Arthur entered him inch by painful inch, no pause, no care, no nothing. All that saliva wasn't helping any and Alfred screamed and screamed this fucking hurts and kept screaming and he almost couldn't hear Arthur’s voice:
“What, America? What are you going to do?”
“You bastard!”
“Yes,” Arthur answered “And now everyone can watch you squirm as I fuck you.”
Alfred was squirming. He was squirming and arching his back and cussing and feeling Arthur’s every harsh thrust, in, out, in, out, fast and increasingly easy because now there was blood too to lube his way. In and out. And he was saying:
“You must be feeling now, aren't you, how dip in the shithole you got us all into.”
***
“You can do the honors,” Francis said “Don’t go easy on him.”
“I’m not going easy on him. Look, he’s already glaring at me.”
“Ah, America, always so combative,” Russia says in his sing-song voice, letting go of his mouth. Alfred didn't have the time to say a word before Arthur grabbed his hair and lifted his head, forcing a finger between his lips:
“I should teach you how to use your mouth,” he said “Open wide.”
His zipper was already open, Alfred could see that, and he wondered when the British had the time to open it. Not that it mattered. He could see the other man’s impressive member, hard and erect, and he had only the time to take a deep breath before Arthur pushed his cock inside his mouth.
Easy. Simple and clean and straight to the point. Alfred had... not thought about it, not exactly, but maybe, during all those long tedious meetings, maybe the thought had crossed his mind, that Arthur would maybe be interested in one day, maybe they could...
But not like this. Never like this.
“You’re drooling so much”, Arthur said, casual, just an off-hand comment. Alfred didn't answer - he couldn't speak with a full mouth, he thought, feeling a sudden desperate need to laugh. It wouldn't be polite. Arthur didn't taste like anything and it was almost like licking his own arm, if he didn't think that it was Arthur’s cock feeling his mouth, Arthur’s curly golden hair under his nose. He wanted to scream, trying to keep his teeth away from Arthur’s skin, he wanted to throw up - and that was exactly what was going to happen if Arthur didn't put that thing away.
But then Arthur pulled back, and Alfred took one trembling relieved breath, saliva running down his chin.
“Please,” he whispered. Please, please...
“Begging from mercy already, America? You know that trick isn't going to work.”
Trick. That trick. As if Alfred were a child making huge puppy eyes trying to get more dessert. As if he were threatening to stomp his feet and hold his breath until Arthur give him a gift. As if he were sulking and pleading for Arthur not to leave him again.
That trick.
“You'll regret this, you bastard...”
“Not as much as I’ll enjoy it.” Arthur answered, green eyes narrowing. He rested his hands on Alfred’s knees and looked up at Ivan “You can let him go. I got him.”
Alfred couldn't see, but he sensed when Ivan got up and went away. He couldn't contemplate this because now Arthur was spreading his legs, keeling on the floor.
“Arthur...”
Arthur spread him a little more, than a little more, until there was nothing left to imagination, until Alfred was open and available and his hole was full on display.
“Arthur, I swear if you-”
His cock touched Alfred’s entrance, slightly. Then there was a brief pause when the world stood still and then-
Then Alfred screamed. Loud, very loud, his voice echoing from the roof and the walls, fuck, fuck it hurts, while Arthur entered him inch by painful inch, no pause, no care, no nothing. All that saliva wasn't helping any and Alfred screamed and screamed this fucking hurts and kept screaming and he almost couldn't hear Arthur’s voice:
“What, America? What are you going to do?”
“You bastard!”
“Yes,” Arthur answered “And now everyone can watch you squirm as I fuck you.”
Alfred was squirming. He was squirming and arching his back and cussing and feeling Arthur’s every harsh thrust, in, out, in, out, fast and increasingly easy because now there was blood too to lube his way. In and out. And he was saying:
“You must be feeling now, aren't you, how dip in the shithole you got us all into.”
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