France was sitting in his living room, relaxing on his couch. He was daydreaming about random things when suddenly a pair of hands went over his eyes from behind. He gasped, grabbing them and trying to pull them off. He heard a chuckle.

"Good luck with that, wanker."

He stopped struggling. "Iggy, what are you doing?" He asked.

"I came to see you, git." He said, moving his hands away. He walked around the couch and sat next to France.

Francis smiled. "Why?"

"I am not telling you," he said, smirking. France was too stupid to catch the glint in his eyes.

"Aww, why not?" he poked Arthur's chest.

"You'll find out soon. Now wait here." He got up to get something while France waited patiently.

"So, you really wanted to see-" France was cut off by a cloth being shoved over his nose and mouth, and his eyes widened as he flailed.

Arthur grinned. "You have to breathe eventually..."

France screamed before he finally inhaled, passing out from the chloroform.

LATER...

France woke up in a room so dark he could barely see a few feet in front of him. "Hello? Is anyone there?" He called.

When there was no answer, he began to panic. "Iggy? Where am I?"

His body was shaking uncontrollably. The cement floor against his naked skin wasn't helping him warm up any, and the chains around his wrists also made it worse. "D-damn.." he said, pulling at the chains.

He could hear the sound of footsteps suddenly, and he turned to where they were coming from. "Who's there? Can you help me?" The person stopped just outside his line of vision, and the sound of something being picked up could be heard. He remained silent until a chuckle caused him to shiver and make a small squeak.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" the British accent was easily recognizable to the Frenchman. Arthur stepped forward, barely visible in the darkness. "You've been quite a bother for a long time, Francis. I think for once, I should get some revenge."

France gulped. "I-Iggy.."

A sharp whack to his chest caused him to yelp and silence himself. "That's Arthur to you, and shut up." Arthur grinned and twirled his riding crop around, taunting his captive.

Francis watched him cautiously. The Brit walked around, examining him, before smacking his cheek with the crop. "You sound so girly when you're in pain," he said with a chuckle.

"H-how long are you planning to keep me here?" asked France.

"However long I bloody please," Arthur said with a scowl. "You've got to make up for centuries of strife, you know." He knelt down and looked at France's face closely. He grinned. "It's nice to hear you quiet for once." He gave France's cheek a pat before standing again. "You remember my pirate days, right?" He walked out of sight and metal clanging could be heard. "Well, I still have plenty of supplies left over." He came back, holding a dagger.

France let out a fearful squeak, and Arthur held the dagger up in front of his captive's face. "You'll behave if you know what's good for you." Even in the darkness, France could see the evil creeping into Arthur's eyes, and he nodded.

"Good. So for now I'll just set this aside." He set it down and grabbed the crop again. "We have business to attend to."

A second later, Francis felt another painful whack to his chest. Several more followed after, each one earning a yelp from the helpless nation.

"Is it starting to sting?" Arthur asked. "I hope it does. All the pain you're going to experience won't even add up to what you've caused for me." He smacked France's cheek hard with the crop, and he screamed this time.

Arthur chuckled darkly. "I could become addicted to that sound." He tilted France's head up at him with the handle of the crop. "Same goes for the fear on your face. It really does give me pleasure."

France sniffled, never expecting Britain to be like this. The crop was moved and he lowered his face to the floor, unwilling to look at him.

Arthur didn't mind, and he walked to pick something else up. "Hold still, git." France felt a collar fasten around his neck. "Just in case you manage to escape," said Arthur with a smirk. He stood up. "It's pink, just so you know."

France's face burned with humiliation. He stared at the floor, completely silent. Footsteps eventually drew his gaze upward, and he saw Britain heading off into the darkness. "Hope you sleep well tonight, you'll need your energy for tomorrow." And then a heavy metal door opened and closed, and all was silent.