Past-Part Fills Part 7
!!! Discussion about moving the kink meme to Dreamwidth!!!
Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
After discovering hentai, America has ended up with a huge tentacle rape fetish. He fantasizes all the time about various scenarios in which he is raped by a freaky monster with tentacles. Or even by guys he knows who have grown super-long penises or tongues, to mix the fantasies up a bit. He goes so far as to try and find ways of acting out the fantasy, like sleeping with guys rumored to have huge dicks, creating looong squishy dildos (and trying to figure out how to fuck himself with one while being tied up by the rest), etc.
Bonus 1: Another nation walks in on one of his elaborate fantasy-reenactment-scenarios, with interesting reactions.
Bonus 2: In the end, his fantasy actually comes to life when a friggin' real tentacle monster finds and attacks him, much to his great surprise (since, y'know, they're supposed to be fictional and all). He loves it more than he'd even imagined.
Fill will contain Russia/America, Canada/America, and of course tentacles/America.
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To his right sat Italy. He might have been listening to the current speaker, or he might have been dozing, hard to tell. But then he leaned over and glanced down at America's papers. “What's that?”
“Nothing.” America pulled them closer to himself, trying to shield the drawings from view.
“It looked like someone fighting a giant squid.”
America grinned at him, laughing nervously. “Heh. Yeah! Sorta.”
“Aww, I want calamari...” With a long sigh, Italy resumed listening.
England took the floor. America listened to him long enough to get the gist, taking a few notes, then let his mind wander again.
He imagined the floor turning to water, their chairs and tables bobbing and the nations struggling to stay afloat. But what was that in the water with them? Giant sea snakes? There were screams as nations scrambled onto the floating desks to get away from the creatures. But no, they weren't snakes! It could have been the world's largest octopus, but the tentacles lacked suckers. Nations were ensnared, screams growing louder, accompanied by the sound of ripping clothes. America did not scream, of course, he was a hero! He hopped from desk to desk, pulling nations free from the tentacles' grasp, unconcerned for his own safety. And so all of the grateful would-be victims gasped in dismay when the tentacles coiled around America's leg, pulling him into the water, grasping at his pants-
“America!”
“Huh?” He looked up. To his relief, the entire room wasn't staring at him this time. He looked to his left, where Canada was watching him.
“Are you paying attention?”
“Of course I am.” America turned to stare at England. Oh, no, it was already Japan's turn.
Damn Japan! This was all his fault. America hadn't been so preoccupied with such weird fantasies before that deceptively polite little man had introduced him to hentai. Once, America had been blissfully ignorant, partaking in a fairly vanilla sex life and believing cartoons were all family-friendly. Those had been simpler times. Afterward, Japan had explained some gobbledygook about a ban on drawn penises leading to the use of tentacles as a substitute, which gained popularity and stuck around. (America couldn't help but wonder, sometimes, what they would have come up with in the case of a ban on female genitalia.)
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“Hey,” he whispered. “Want to come over to my hotel room after the meeting?”
Italy looked over at him in surprise. “Er...”
“Oh, not you.” From what he had heard, Italy was average in size. Which would have been fine before... “Canada?”
Canada shook his head. “Sorry. I already agreed to get something to eat with England and France.”
America groaned. “Fine... What about after that?”
“Sorry. Can't someone else entertain you?”
“No...” America added another tentacle to his doodle. “Unless you know someone who's bigger than you?”
“Oh, for...” Canada rolled his eyes. “I assume you're talking about what I think you're talking about? Size queen...” He blew out a breath. “Are we talking length or girth?”
“Length,” America said quickly.
“Huh. Well...” Canada looked around. “Russia's bigger overall.”
“Russia?” America looked across the table at his former enemy. He was currently also engaged in doodling, and giggling to himself. “But he's... Russian.”
Canada patted America's hand. “He'll keep you occupied until I'm free.”
America tilted his head as he studied Russia. “I suppose so.”
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Russia was thrilled! He had been confused in the meeting earlier when he was approached by America for sex, but now he was glad he agreed!
Being the... ahem... largest nation in the world was all well and good, earning him admiration and praise and whatnot. But when it came down to actually doing it, other nations suddenly became reluctant. Russia usually ended up on the bottom. On the occasion he did get to top, it would be a delicate romp filled with warnings of “Be careful”, “Slowly”, “Not too deep”, and the like.
What a nice change to hear cries of “Faster!” and “Harder!” and even “Deeper!” while he was balls-deep already! America didn't even want to cuddle or kiss or bother with foreplay. Hell, America didn't even want to be touched, and doing it doggie style had been his idea. It was, Russia had discovered, not the easiest thing in the world to fuck somebody hard and keep one's balance if one could not use the other person for support, but he managed. He felt really awkward without somewhere to place his hands, but every time he attempted to rest them on America's back, or grab America's cock, he got snapped at! Well excuse him.
But the fast and hard fucking more than made up for it, so he would have to live with weird little capitalist quirks.
“I... I can feel you,” America panted as he was rammed into.
“Hm?” Oh, for goodness sake. “I'm not touching you!”
“I can feel your balls! They're slapping into me!”
Russia was a little less thrilled now. “You're the one who kept saying 'faster' and 'harder'. They swing when I do that, I can't help it.” He felt a momentary panic at being different again. “Don't... don't yours?”
“Never mind.”
This was weird. But damn did it feel good, so Russia continued drilling into America.
“Oh, nooo...” America moaned. “Ah, stop, please...” He glanced over his shoulder. “Why'd you stop?”
Russia was frozen in fear. “I'm s-sorry!”
“Huh?” America blinked at him. Realization slowly dawned on his face. “Oh! Sorry, I wasn't talking to you. You can continue! I'll keep it to myself.” He turned back around, and Russia resumed fucking, utterly perplexed.
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Prussia lounged against the outer wall, greeting the nations as they passed by on their way to the meeting. It was a sunny morning, and he had been in the mood to come and watch the poor saps who had to spend all day in a boring meeting trudge to their prison. There was no way he would ever want to do that. But as long as they were meeting in Germany, he may as well entertain himself.
“Hey, West!” He waved. His brother ignored him. “Yeah, whatever. France!” He waved again. “You got some last night!” he guessed, from the cheery expression and spring in his step. France could only grin wider and wink, then disappeared through the double doors that led inside.
America was the next to arrive, and he too had that pleased post-sex look. “Hey, America!”
America looked at him, and actually walked over. “Hi, Prussia!”
“What's up?” America rarely talked to him.
“Um.” He nervously scratched the side of his head. “I've, uh, heard some rumors about you.”
Prussia waited to hear what the rumors were before he vehemently denied them.
“So...” America stepped even closer, and reached for Prussia's belt, looking eager. Prussia could only gape in wordless surprise as the young nation unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. America tugged the waistband of Prussia's pants and underwear out and peered down. His expression slowly crumbled. “Oh...” Looking thoroughly disappointed, he released Prussia's pants and stepped back. “Never mind.” He trudged into the building.
Prussia watched him go in shocked confusion, while firmly reminding himself that real men did not curl up and cry.
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I hope to see an update soon, it would totally make my day
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Looking forward to the next update!
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I'm giggling especially hard here because a couple days ago I dared someone who's writing a different size-queen-America fic to have one of the guys he picks turn out to be pre-op and not have a flesh-and-blood penis at all, and it only occurred to me after I already sent the message that it would be fun if it was Prussia. "So, yeah, the five-metres thing wasn't so much an exaggeration as a misdirection." (Seriously, writer-lady, if you're reading this I'll PAY you to do that.)
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It's a good thing nobody else is home because I've been howling with laughter. Felt bad for Russia and Prussia. Oh, Canada, you're such an enabler.
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He wandered into the living room to maybe play some video games, but the sunlight peeking in through the curtains lured him outside. He stretched with another yawn as he stepped into the back yard, looking around fondly at the inviting lawn chairs and huge American gas grill.
And brown grass. America wrinkled his nose. Why couldn't it rain once a night? At least, with the warm golden sun beating down, it was a nice day for yardwork. Of course, if it hadn't been a nice day, the grass wouldn't be dying and he wouldn't need to do yardwork.
With a long sigh, America walked over to the hose before he had time to find something fun he would rather be doing. He bent over to pick it up, and froze.
Eyes widening, America stared down at the slender green loops. A smile spread across his face as naughty thoughts flitted through his mind. He dropped the hose and stepped back. "Oh no! There's something in my back yard, and it has... it has England! I'll save you!" He hurried closer to untangle the imagined nation in distress. It was something America had figured out early on. He felt much better about being the victim in his fantasies if he started off rescuing somebody else. It was the best way to maintain his heroic mental image."There!" He pushed 'England' away. "Ah... oh no..." He looked down at his foot, caught in the hose's coils. "Don't worry about me! Just run!" He tripped, rolling over and entangling his body in the hose, grappling with the end. Icy cold precome dripped from the nozzle. Er, mouth. No, head. The head of the phallic tentacle.
The tentacle slid into the waistband of his shorts, and as he squirmed, his shorts and underwear were tugged down. "Oh, nooo..." He tried to modestly cover himself, but his hands were yanked away by tentacles. "Why are you doing this?" At least England had gotten away!
America writhed in the monster's grip, tentacles wrapping around him. One of them wrapped around his cock, and... well, it tried, anyway. It couldn't quite bend enough. America could certainly have forced it, but then he would have to go to the store and buy a new hose. He had already had to replace the vacuum twice, and one unfortunate octopus tub toy.
Playing with the hose was a fun little game, but there was only so much one could do outside, on dead grass that wasn't especially soft, with something that even he wasn't dumb enough to stick where it didn't belong. America finally stood, tugging his pants up. "Well. That'll teach you." He strolled back inside, yardwork forgotten, occasionally touching himself. He pulled out his phone and made a quick call.
America grinned at the sleepy greeting that eventually emerged from the other end. His brother was not as good as he was when it came to jet lag. "Hey! How's my favorite Canucklehead?"
"I'm all right," Canada mumbled. "What's up?"
"Did you want to come visit?" He felt an old, instinctive desire to twirl a cord around his finger, which led him to thinking about those long, thick, twisty cords, and found himself missing the phones of yore.
"I just got home... I've got some things to do here." America sagged. "But I can head down in a couple days." America brightened.
"Great! See you then, bro."
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America watched the oh-you-know-you-want-it rape with a smile, casually stroking himself. He tilted his head as he watched the video. "Why do girls get all the fun in Japan?" He blinked. "I don't think that would fit there... I didn't even realize that was a pleasurable orifice to tentacle!" The action continued, until he cheered wildly at a new character. "A boy! Finally! Do him, do him!" The male, discernable mainly from the flat chest and pants instead of a sailor dress, was hoisted and stripped by the tentacles and violated. America stroked himself harder, then finally went to fetch some toys.
The dildo had been a gift from a certain French nation. Actually, just about all of the adult toys America had ever owned were from said French nation. He was a big believer in spreading the love, that was for sure. America knelt on the floor, eyes still on the video playing on his computer screen, and started to move the lubricated dildo toward himself. Then he changed his mind and fetched a rope, tying one of his wrists to the leg of a chair. That done, America used his free hand to finally push the toy into himself, while struggling (but not hard) against the tentacle that held him.
He pushed the dildo in and out of himself while moaning and pleading with the monster, tugging against his bonds. “Let me go!” He forced the dildo as far as he could, and sighed. America pulled it out and tossed it aside, then untied his wrist.
Really, what was the point in using toys if they were just cheap imitations of the real thing? If he was going to indulge in some personal fantasies, shouldn't it be... better than the real thing? Otherwise he may as well just wait for the real thing.
America shut the movie off and looked for where he had thrown his pants. It was time to do some shopping.
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America shuffled closer to the cashier, smiling nervously. He wondered what would be a tactful way to let her know he did not normally frequent this sort of store without insulting her, since she did work there after all. Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut instead. He piled the long, colorful double-sided dildos onto the counter for her to ring up.
"You must be throwing some party," she said casually.
"Haha. Yeah." America busied himself with looking everywhere but at her. He pretended to read the labels on the variety of condoms.
"Will that be all?" the cashier said.
"Hmm..." He didn't want to return to that store, so America pondered on what else could enhance the experience. "Do you have any green lube?"
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I do the "I'm just accidentally purchasing these sex toys and am deeply fascinated by the information on these labels over here" when at sex shops too. I don't think Canada's going to appreciate the slime effect, though.
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Looking forward to the next part!
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