The Greedy Invasion of Poland
A/N: I'm a RPer and I recently began rping as a Hetalia character. I'm not telling you which one. Or two. :]
Warnings: Very much non-con/r-a-p-e. Cross-dressing, angst, threesome.
I have a dirty mind. I'd be locked up if thinking these things was illegal OTL Don't kill me, please. :O
Feliks was running as fast as he could, as fast as the dress he wore would allow. He was in fear of his life because Germany and Russia were out to get him. It was a cold night in early September and he could hear the two soldiers crashing through the trees on either side of him, getting even closer than before. He feared for his country and his people more than he did for his own life. Poland hadn't been expecting the two armies to mobilize so quickly and neither England nor France were anywhere to be seen. He had just been having a masquerade party to prevent his closest friends from worrying about the war while his own army was on the march but the guards had alerted him to the presence of both Ivan and Ludwig so Feliks had fled his house in favor of trying to escape and get help. The dress his wore was white, a long and flowing, soft material that was delicate on the skin. The mask that was over his face had already fallen off as he ran through the forest, breathing heavily. Poland ran even faster, kicking off his shoes so he could add to his speed, the thorns and brambles slowing him but he urged himself on, the dress tearing in more than one place where it snagged. No matter how fast he ran, he was losing ground and there was no way to get it back, he was already nearly out of breath.
"Privyet, comrade. Running is making you look like a coward," Ivan's voice floated to the Polska on the breeze, somewhere close by. "Surrender, da, and no one will be harming you."
Ludwig's voice came next, on the opposite side of him.
"Listen to mein kamerad und you vill not get hurt," Germany stated, his tone even less kind than the Russian's.
Poland knew there was no way to outrun them but maybe he could out-wait them. He saw his chance in a huge tree and he dove for an alcove in the trunk, sunken into the ground. He scraped his arms pretty bad on the way in but managed to fit inside the small, dark, cramped space and he clamped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide in the dim light as he tried to calm his panting and his racing heart. He shivered in the chilly night air and wrapped his free arm around himself to try and get some semblance of warmth, even though sweat covered his forehead from the sprinting he had just done.
"Do not make us search you, Untermensch," Ludwig's sharp voice ordered. Feliks covered his mouth again to keep his breathing quiet and to keep a scream in as insects began to crawl out of the dirt and over his bare toes. A few long moments passed and the movements in the underbrush ceased. He waited for another minute or two, making sure all was quiet before he dared to take a peek to see if the coast was clear.
A glance was exchanged between Russia and Germany once each of them stood on either side of the Polish boy's hiding place, tatters of the white dress were caught everywhere that the garment had snagged and made it effortless to follow the trail. Ivan held a finger to his lips to signal Ludwig to remain quiet and the German nodded in understanding. The two patiently waited for they knew that the boy would have to emerge eventually.
Poland's green eyes were wide in the moonlight as he stuck his head out to check if it was safe. His sigh of relief changed to a scream as a spike of pain traveled from his scalp all the way down his spine.
"Ow! L-let go!" Feliks cried out as Ivan dragged him from his hiding place. The grip was strong and unyielding as the Russian began to drag Poland out of the wood these pesky woods and back to their base of operations.
"Stop! This is, like, not dignified!" he cried out, both hands grabbing Ivan's wrists to stop the hair-pulling. "L-let me go!" Feliks ordered, trying to wrench the hand out of his hair. His pale legs were covered in dirt, the stockings that he had worn ripped and filthy, the knees red from blood and his skin was smarting from the scratches that he had gotten from the uneven ground that was littered with rocks and dead wood. Poland tried to dig his feet into the loose dirt when the Russian stopped moving and next thing Feliks knew, he felt back as a strong backhand struck across his face. A sob escaped him unwillingly and he coughed, spitting out blood from his mouth, for he had bitten his tongue. Russia glared down at him and Ludwig held up a hand to signal him to stop.
Frightful green eyes turned toward the German, hopeful for just a moment for as soon as his eyes landed upon Ludwig, he knew in his gut that something very bad was going to happen.
"Look at his face, Ivan. Vhy vould you hit such a beautiful zhing?" Germany asked, grasping Poland's chin and turning it toward the pale moon light. Icy blue optics roamed over the Polish male's face then down to look at the torn remains of the dress, a small smirk crossing his face as he glanced at Ivan.
"Ve should take his country to show him zhat ve are zhe poverful vuns und zhat he ist nozhing." The German suggested, causing a spike of fear to arch through him, tears beginning to fall from Poland's emerald optics.
"N-nie(No)! Pl-please! I-I'll go quietly!" Feliks begged as Ivan stood behind him and grabbed his wrists, taking off his belt in order to tie his arms behind his back as Ludwig pulled the boy's blond hair.
"It ist too late for zhat, kleiner(little one)," Germany stated as he leaned in to roughly kiss the male's split lips, pulling away quickly with a growl as his tongue was bit upon, cursing in his native language. Ivan pushed Poland forward to the ground and he landed with a small cry of pain, sobbing more freely now as he squirmed even though he knew he would never escape the two powerful nations. Ivan's hands slid up Polska's thighs and tore the stockings off before he lifted the dress up and giggled at the sight.
"Look comrade. He is wearing a lady's undergarments. Being taken by a man is being what he likes, da?" The Russian commented as the heat of arousal traveled down his body and his rough, large hands began to pull the panties down but paused as Feliks began to kick at Ivan and protest in a shrill voice.
"NO! Please! I already, like, said I WOULD GO WITH YOU! Don't do this! Please!" Poland begged, kicking hard at anything that he could reach but yelped when Ludwig grabbed his hair and yanked his head up out of the dirt, wrenching it backward so that those beautiful pools of green would look into his cold blue.
"Zhis day hast been long coming, trottel(fool). If you struggle anymore, ve VILL kill you." Germany stated harshly, letting go of the sobbing Polska's hair in order to unfasten the buttons of the uniform trousers he wore.
Ivan had gotten the undergarments off of the now still body of Feliks with the exception of the heavy breathing that came from him as he cried. The Russian's rough palms ran over the smooth backside and he leaned forward to spit on the boy's ass though it would probably not help in the least. He pushed a finger into the tight opening and earned a gasp from Poland, whose tears paused as the horror of the situation crashed into him. He wished that he could view the sky so he could distance his mind from himself. He didn't want to feel the cold earth beneath him, or hear the sound of Ivan's pants getting unzipped, or feel the splitting pain as Russia's huge length pushed into his virgin entrance without any preparation.
"Daah..he is being so tight," the taller man moaned out as he squeezed the boy's backside, pressing further inside. "We are giving him his first tasting of men, Ludwig." Ivan said as his large member sank more into the hot, constricted, untouched ass hole, a groan of pleasure coming from his lips.
"Let us teach him how to accept it properly zhen, kamerad," the German suggested, rubbing he head of his own dick against Poland's lips. Feliks' eyes were far-away, a dead-panned expression in them as he parted his bruised lips and Ludwig pushed the stiff length into his mouth. He shut his eyes as the salty taste hit his tongue, trying to ignore the groans from the stronger nations as the sounds reached his ears and the tears continued to stream down his cheeks. The pain in his backside was worse than dying. Ivan was loud as he pounded into the tight passage, the smell of sex and blood mingling with the scent of the earth around them. The Russian's rough hands spread the other male's ass cheeks to help his cock slide in deeper though the whole thing just couldn't fit in there. Germany's hands grasped the dirty blond locks of Poland's hair and he moved Feliks' mouth over his own engorged erection since the boy's body had stilled completely. The two allies pleasured themselves until they climaxed, Ivan not bothering to pull out from the tight ass until his seed was spilled. Ludwig withdrew and stroked himself to completion, ejaculating on Poland's face, rubbing the tip against the male's lips until he was spent. Russia watched Germany as he finished, a satisfied expression on both men's faces. Ivan wrapped the boy in a long overcoat and picked up the unconscious body.
"He is being mine now," Russia said as he hefted Poland's limp form over his shoulder. "Let us be going back to our troops so we may be letting them know that victory is being ours."
THE END
