Masokisti
"Hic-! do svidaniya my pets! I'm off to pay Mr. Amerika a little visit…hehe" Ivan laughed, his voice drunk with vodka. He stumbled out the door, a blast of wind an snow blowing in as he slammed the door behind him.
Ivan was leaving for the night. Nights of freedom were always few and far between. It was a rare event that the Baltic nations relished.
"Thank god!" Toris said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I think we all needed a break…" Especially me, he thought, rubbing his bottom. It was still sore.
Raivis smiled with tears in his eyes. "Ja! We're lucky!"
While Eduard was glad to see his comrades happy, something still tugged at his mind. He didn't exactly want Ivan gone tonight. There was a small chance every night, however so slight, maybe it would be him the Russian would unleash his twisted love on. God, the thought turned him on so much. A pink blush spread across the Estonian's face. He shouldn't want it, not like this.
Toris and Raivis were always on the receiving end of the Russian's abuse. He wished he could comfort them, they were his friends. To Raivis, he was like a brother. He didn't want to see his brother suffer. He was the lucky one, who was never punished. He was very useful to the house, and was given the task of handling the finances, so he was never any trouble. The only time Ivan laid a finger on him was the first night he spent in the Soviet household.
"There are many rules here." Ivan had said, with an eerie smile. "They are all we have, or there would be chaos… nyet. We do not want any of that. If you are to break but one rule, I shall break you in return…" Eduard may not have loved him at the time, but he was still aroused. After Ivan had his way with him, he smiled once more. "Know what happens if you disobey me". Eduard took this advice to heart. However, the longer he spent in the household, the more Eduard fell for that fucked up mind of his.
Ivan was way too rough for the other Baltics, maybe, but the thought secretly thrilled him. Ivan was dangerous, but so intriguing. He was strong too. So strong… Suddenly Eduard's pants felt a bit too tight.
"Uhm… excuse me- I'll just be a moment…" he mumbled, clearing his throat as he headed for the corridor behind him.
Yekaterina gave a shy smile at him on his was out. "Do pobachennya" Eduard ignored her, afraid to turn back. Dejectedly, she returned to comfort her sister, sobbing at her brother's absence.
He turned right, peeking into Ivan's bedroom. The bed itself was immense, with a heavily draped canopy. The room was very dark, only a few small oil lamps fruitfully lighting the grand scene. It was so ornate and grand. Ivan had painted huge murals of sunflowers on the walls, ruining the elaborate paneling with his erratic and desperate strokes of oil.
Eduard drew his breath, wondering if he should proceed. He made his way to Ivan's gigantic bed, nuzzling his face onto the blanket. It felt so soft and warm… it even smelled just like it's owner. Just like vodka. He began to rub himself up against the blanket. I wonder what kinds of things happen in this bed… he thought. Ivan probably never used it for such things, he always had his way with the others in the basement.
Eduard started to grow down below. He slid under the covers, slipping a hand down his pants.
"Haah…ha… Iva~an…" he pulled himself a little too hard, biting his lip until it bled. The pain just hurt so good, and drinking in Ivan's scent was just intoxicating. He finished exhaustingly being careful not to stain the sheets. He soon fell asleep, not caring who would find him in the most taboo room of the house.
Maybe, he smiled, he would be punished.
He was awoken by heavy footsteps and a loud creak as the door opened. Eduard blinked, suddenly overcome with fear. This was a bad idea. This is bad. This is bad. WHAT WAS I THINK-
"Oh, Eduard, you kept my bed warm while I was gone!" Ivan smiled. "How kind of you!" He sat on the bed to pat him on the head. "You really are the best child."
Fuck… Eduard thought to himself. Getting Ivan to rape him would be a more difficult task than expected.