I do not own Hetalia

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The servants and slaves of the Ottoman Empire, otherwise known as Turkey, were pretty used to the sound of yelling, arguing and fighting going on between the Master and his underlings. It was a common sight to see the tall man stomping angrily around the house searching for one kid/child/nation or another. Most often it was either Greece for letting cats urinate on his bed or Hungary for doing some serious pranks. Often he would exclude one or more from the evening meal on the grounds they were to misbehaved to eat at the table, sometimes there would be time outs and other times simply a stern lecture for breaking a vase or something or other. Turkey had long ago child-proofed his house so nothing valuable would get damaged.

What was strange was to see Turkey storming through the house looking much more than angry, he was furious, livid and pissed off.

"HUNGARY!" Bellowed the masked nation, "FRONT AND CENTER!" Hungary, being the smart boy he was, didn't emerge from his hiding spot, "HUNGARY!" Servants scuttled away from his imposing figure as he swept through the house searching every nook and cranny where a nine year old boy would hide.

All of his other underlings were barricaded in a room, knowing what could happen with him in such a towering mood. Romania was a little gleeful that Hungary was getting in trouble but the others were concerned.

"HUNGARY!" He tossed aside cushions and concubines in the harem, scattered the gardeners and tulips, and smashed the cooks and kitchen but still he couldn't find the elusive boy. "Hungary, come out now!" He ordered, seething with rage he heard small feet scurry around a corner, Turkey whipped around just in time to see a cabinet door close with a foot disappearing in and instant. Beneath his mask his golden eyes flashed with gleeful victory, silencing his footsteps he snuck over to the cabinet. In a second he open the door and fished a squirming Hungary out by the back of his shirt.

"Gotcha!"

"Let me go you big stupid jerk," green eyes blazed fear as Turkey held him up to his face.

"I don't think so, you're in quite a bit of trouble Hungary," Turkey tucked the boy under his arm and whisked up to his office, ignoring the screaming and yelling from the child.

"LET ME GO! I'M GONNA HURT YOU SO BAD THAT!" As Turkey kicked his office door shut Hungary's thrashing got worse, "PUT ME DOWN!"

Sitting down in his beautifully ornate chair he settled the boy across his knees, keeping him firmly in place Turkey whisked Hungary's pants to his knees.

"That temper tantrum in front of my boss was embarrassing and a huge mistake on your part," Ottoman scolded while rolling back his sleeve, "entirely unacceptable to have my underlings undermine my authority like that," with a frown he landed a firm spank on his small bottom. Hungary screeched in surprise, twisting and thrashing every which was to escape the sudden rain of painful and swift spankings upon his upturned and unprotected bottom. But he was so small and young, unable to compare with the monstrous strength of his captor Hungary couldn't really do much more than lay there and squirm and cry.

Turkey continued to punish his errant underling while continuing a stern lecture at the same time, it wasn't long until the boy was a sobbing mess, his rear end a blazing massive disciplinary red. With a sigh he hoisted the child into his arms and allowed him to cry into his shoulder.

"You can calm down now Hungary, come on," patting his back Turkey glanced down to notice several details that had his face burning red.

Hungary was not a boy.

Underneath his mask his face heated up as he carried the now quietly sobbing girl to her room, this would certainly change things around here.

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Because there was no story on hungary getting a spanking. Flamers can go away.