TW: NONCON
It was a while after Rome killed his mother. He'd grown up, then, under Rome's rule, and then Rome died and things in Europe began getting. . Well, they began getting weird. Really weird. Then again, Greece supposes that things began getting weird not too long before Rome died. But that's another story, another story entirely.
And then one day a man in a masque grabbed him by the hair and they left the quiet, dusty mansion and Greece was told that he belonged to the Ottoman Empire. No explanation. Then again, Greece was used to it at that point. Throughout his childhood he was being passed around like a cigar made of hashish that by the time he's much older and much wiser, he's used to it. Just used to it.
Of course, unlike all of his other rulers, Turkey was loud and obnoxious and full of himself― not that Rome wasn't a cocky bastard as well, but at least he didn't ever grab Greece's ass― and Greece found himself highly disliking Turkey. Disliking him so much that he broke Turkey's nose one day during a rather heated argument.
Turkey was not pleased and Greece found it hard to sit down for days afterward.
"Next time, it'll be worse," Turkey warned him, but Greece didn't care. Never before had he been so humiliated like that― an adult, being thrown over Turkey's knee. But that wasn't the worst part. No no no, that was definitely not the worst part of it at all, because Greece could handle corporal punishment easily.
No, the worst part was that he found himself enjoying it, enjoying being humiliated like that.
It was easy to be defiant towards Turkey, of course― Greece had found it easy to be defiant before that whole incident anyway, and besides, seeing how angry he got was a little pleasing. It was nice to know that he had some power over Turkey, almost as nice as it was to remember how much power Turkey had over him.
But that was all a long, long time ago, Greece knows, and since then he's become independent and his own self, and he quite likes it, quite likes being able to make his own decisions and not be manhandled and moved from place to place like a cheap prostitute.
Still, though, he has to admit that sometimes he remembers how the ropes chafed his wrists and how Turkey's cock felt when it filled up his throat and his bottom, and sometimes he wants to call Turkey and invite him over.
Someday, he thinks. Someday he'll swallow his pride and do it.