A/N: I can t help it. I. Like. Writing. Rape. Smut.
...Involving. Russia.
P.S. - Seriously, I don't want any flames about Belarus not being psycho enough, nor about her being too weak and helpless and not fighting back. I got the idea. I wrote it. I liked it. I served in on a silver platter to you. Take it or leave it.
Insert obvious disclaimer here.
The room was dark, yet moonlight seeping in through several windows cast a glow on the furniture and white, goddy bedding. There was a strange blueish tint to the light in the room from the moon, altogether an eery, somewhat beautifully cold emanance.
She sat up straight and stretched her aching back. Belarus had been painting all day. Literally. She hadn't eaten since she woke up a 5 a.m. It was now...she glanced at the digital clock on Ivan's bedside table. 8:34 p.m. Natalya's stomach growled a rip-roaring snarl and the muscle churned within her, the only audiobal sound in the glowing room.
But I did a good job.
She grinned wickedly.
Natalya exited her brother's room and floated, like a lethal ghost, down stairs to the front hall, passing into the kitchen...where poor Raivis was washing dishes.
As she placed herself delicately in a chair at the counter, she glared at the poor Latvian servant, whom was eagerly trying not to see her and hold his tongue from screaming at the top of his lungs in terror of her presence. Though unfortunately for him, when she made a small noise in her throat to cock his attention, he glanced at her without thinking. She was in his peripheral vision for only a moment before he sprinted from the room.
Seconds passed, and Belarus began drumming her fingertips on the marble counter top. She heard a small shuffle in the hall just outside the kitchen, and quiet, desperate whispering.
She rolled her eyes and froze from drumming. "Get in here, Toris."
The tall brunette was suddenly shoved through the doorway. He appeared quite nervous, the way his smile quivered in the corners as if it might shatter with cries for help. He looked back over the shoulder of his green uniform at a trembling Raivis, who'd just poked his head through the doorway to see.
"Thanks." Toris hissed at the younger Baltic. Latvia disappeared.
"...Toris..." Natalya called with a cold edge in her high voice. "...why aren't you feeding me?"
"Er, right away, madam!" The emerald eyed Lithuanian scurried to the fridge and began pulling out bits of random everything to prepare a dish for Belarus. Meanwhile, Belarus herself was fixed on looking out a large, open window in the kitchen. Snow swirled and danced in a blizzard just outside, dotting the black night sky with flittering flakes. Somewhere out there is Brother. He's running home, isn't he? He's running home to me. Soon we'll be married...married...married...
MARRIED...
Lithuania felt a silent shudder ripple up his spine at the sight of the grin spreading over her lips. Oh God, whatever she'd thinking of...gaaaaah~!
Toris brainstormed desperately for something to talk about while making the meal, so that she wouldn't be simply smiling wickedly and causing him to tremble in his shoes. "Um, Miss Belarus, what is that on your hands?"
She glanced down at her hands in her lap with indifference. Oh, she noticed internally, why, they're covered in-
"Paint." She responded. "White paint. I refinished some furniture in Brother's room for him. It's a surprise. Now everytime he opens his dresser to change his clothes, leaving him stark naked for priceless moments, he'll think of winter. Or maybe my hair. Or maybe me in general. Or maybe the wedding dress I bough on eBay."
"..." Toris was a little sorry he asked and just hurried along with the food.
Natalya poked at the meal quickly served before her. "When will Brother be home?" She dunked the fork speared with food into her mouth.
"Hn!" Toris froze in spot, cursing under his breath. He was barely through the doorway. His sneakiness almost prevailed him into escaping unnoticed. Almost.
"When will Brother be home?" She repeated, glaring at him over her plate.
"I...I don't know, Miss Natalya-"
He instantly shut up as she sprang from her seat and threw herself at him, grappling him by the collar of his uniform. "I asked you when will he be home?"
"He - er, M-Master didn't say! I-I'm sorry! Soon, I assume, he's been gone all day!" She was so close to him that her cold panting breaths blew back his shaggy brown kind-of-bangs as she reached down to her thigh and felt the handle of a killer blade through her dress.
The door clicked. That heavenly sound of the front door opening wafted into the kitchen. Natalya released Toris, actually shoving him out of the way to the hall, the front door, Ivan.
Wind howled and whistled through the open door, blowing icy wind into the hall and striking Belarus, not that this felt odd to her. She leaped to the front door, to say the least, and landed in the enterer's chest, shoving him back a few inches into the door, which shut it and ceased the wind.
Natalya buried her face in his warm front as she snuck her arms round behind him, trapping him in her embrace. She took in the feeling of his tan coat on her face. She lathered in the touch of his scarf brushing the long sleeve of her navy dress as if it was her bare skin. She stifled in the burning, sickly, pewtred aroma of alcohol covering him.
Wait, what? She thought quickly.
Her eyes burst open miles wide as she looked up to her brother. He glanced down at her with dazed, yet happy, horribly red, patchy, bloodshot violet eyes. His light hair, in a similar hue to Natalya's own, hung in his face lazily. His soft smile was plastered across his mouth.
He was looking at his sister affectionately. Yeah, the crazy sister.
"Good evening to you, too, Natty!" He half laughed, his thick, handsome Russian drawl slurring on the edges of his words. His cold breath was so alcoholic, Natalya felt a little dizzy herself just breathing it in. Ivan reached up a hand and patted the top of her head like a dog. "You've been *hic* waiting for me, da?"
Natalya annoyedly let go from around him and fixed her bow to be straight again, once he'd stopped patting her. "Yes. And now it is much too late in the day rehearse vows. Tisk tisk, Brother."
At this moment, Toris popped his head out from the kitchen. "Oh! W-Welcome back, Master. I trust your trip went alright?"
"Ah, Toris! Come 'ere, you!" Ivan motioned playfully for the servant to approach him. Belarus gave an awful glared. Lithuania didn't know if it was safe to move forwards or not. "Da, Torrrrrrris, get over here!"
Russia made a move forwards, and stumbled on his drunken feet. Natalya caught him from falling completely flat on his face, and Lithuania decided it would be acceptable, even to Belarus, if he came over now. To help. Y'know.
Liet mirrored Natalya's arms in form of how they supported Ivan around his chest, and together they helped him to stand again. Ivan was completely whacked out of his mind from drinking. He snaked an arm over the shoulders of each country and slumped down, making them hold his weight. He laughed as they both gasped.
"You are in no shape to get married tonight, Brother. You've got to tell me beforehand next time you go out so I can get invitations with a date when you're sober." Natalya complained.
"My sister loves me so much, da!" He chuckled and squeezed her closer with the arm wrapped around her. "She is always taking such good *hic* care of older brother Russia, even better than Liet sometimes!" At this, he pulled Lithuania in closer, too. Natalya's eyes burned so horribly at Toris that he cringed to avoid meeting her eyes, afraid they'd char holes in his corneas like acid.
"Um, Miss Belarus..." Toris let out a small grunt as he better positioned himself under Russia's weight. "Maybe we should take Master to his chamber? So he can begin to sleep this off...?"
Natalya gave no recognition to Toris, she just began dragging Ivan towards the staircase (which was, luckily for them, in the hall). He followed along, however. Ivan let them drag him upstairs, smiling dreamily and muttering under his breath in Russian.
Ivan's grand bedroom wasn't far down the upstairs hall. Together, Belarus and Lithuania managed to get him sitting on the edge of his bed in the large, exquisite bedroom. The room had the same dark, eery light, casting almost azure shadows.
As they were about to leave, Ivan, in his drunken sway, began to tip from side to side. Laughing the whole time, he leaned forwards dangerously and began to slip off the bed. Natalya dashed desperately to catch her brother, Liet trailing behind, knowing full and well that if Ivan got hurt, Belarus would make him good companions with that blade strapped to her thigh.
They propped Russia back up onto the king sized bed covered in royal looking white coverings, and shoved him further on so that he couldn't fall off so easily. Toris, like the good little servant he was, began undoing the buttons of Ivan's coat, said drunken Russian watching him with amusement flickering in his bloodshot violet eyes. Ho ho ho, Nat did not like that. She should be taking off Ivan's clothes and making him smile like that. Not. That. Stupid. Maid. Toris.
She covered Liet's hands with her and dug her fingernails into him, hissing in a high pitch. He yelped and retracted his hands.
"Shouldn't I at least take off his boots?"
"I'll do it! Now you scram, Liet!"
He didn't need to be told twice. He quickly excused himself to "Uh, g-go shovel the walkway, y-yeah, that's it!" and flew out of the room.
Leaving Belarus alone. With Russia. In a bedroom. Taking off his clothes.
Why Liet, why.
"I'll help older brother into bed!" Natalya grinned an awful smile, pulling apart the last few buttons of Ivan's long, tan coat. She draped it over her arm and exited the room, only momentarily, to lay it over the stair rail. All of Ivan's furniture were still wet, remember, although Ivan didn't know that.
"Natalya is so kind to Ivan!" He sang, leaning back on the bed and propping himself up to watch her on his elbows. She smirked, quickly and daringly undoing the top few buttons of her own dress just before re-entering the room. When she reached the bed, she leaned down to untie her brother s shoes, revealing a morsel of cleavage to Ivan.
"Wow!" Russia laughed in his drunken stupor. "Natty has really grow up, da!"
YES, YOU NOTICED? Her conscious was swimming with anxious, horny thoughts. She placed his boots on the floor at the foot of Russia's bed, leaving her brother clad in just simple pants, white button up shirt, and infamous cream scarf.
"Come sit with me, *hic* Natty!" He beckoned her to his side amicably, flipping himself round to sit on the edge of the bed, like before, hopefully not going to fall this time. Natalya complied very openly to his request.
"Yes, Brother?" She sat down very snuggly at his side, just after hastily unlooping another button of her dress.
Russia merrily wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Belarus though she was going to pass out. "Brothers notice things about *hic*little sisters. Is our job, da? I notice that little Natty has grown into beautiful woman so suddenly!" He rattled her a bit under his arm, laughing happily. "So beautiful, that Russia wonders if anyone has eyes on his little Natty, or maybe Natty has eyes on handsome man. Natty will tell Brother, da?"
"I only have eyes for older brother, you know that!" She smiled in a way unlike her usual crazy way, it was - genuine! Shock and awe!
"Aaah haa ha!" He chuckled. "That is right, because Brother will tear apart person who touches his Natty's heart, da? Da. Is true."
Russia's eyes changed so suddenly, even through intoxication. His stare went ice cold and deathly serious.
"I will kill ANYONE. Not matter how important this person is to Brother. He be dead if he touch Natty, neh?"
"Er, yeah..." She gave him a strange glance. Did he think that she was with somebody~?
His violet eyes froze on hers, that trademark smile wiped from his face. His hand tightened on her shoulder. "Will Brother need to kill Liet?"
"WHAT?" She tried pulling away, but he was like a stone statue, and she was trapped in it's rock grip. "Toris? Never! No! I only love Brother! Why would you even suspect - Toris?"
"Natty was very friendly with Liet tonight, she even grabbed Liet's hands, and Liet always speaks nicely to Natty."
He's drunk, just really really drunk! He's not serious! She tried to convince herself, but that gut feeling wouldn't let her.
Belarus kept struggling weakly, her hair bow soon unfixed from her hair. It fell and landed softly on the cold hardwood floor at their feet, messing up some of her hair and pulling bits of it into her face.
Ivan's fingers tightened, causing Natalya to gasp at the short, sharp pain. "What. Is. In. Your. Hair."
"Huh? W-What?"
With his free hand, he grasped a lock of her silverette hair and pulled in before her eyes. There was a smear of white across the strands, most likely from Natalya combing through her hair with her fingers after finishing the paint job.
He didn't know about the furniture yet. "O-Oh, that's, um - " She began tripping over her own words. Belarus, the insane, fearsome nation, was being intimidated by someone else. Russia's glare was so deep and unmoving and intense that it was just plain terrifying, even to Natalya.
Natalya gently placed her hands around Ivan's holding her hair, trying to free her locks. Of course, she'd completely forgotten that her hands were covered in even more white paint, and she was practically waving them around in Russia's face.
He let go of her hair, only to ensnare her by the wrists. "So. Suspicion is true. Brother is right." His eyes, oh, those satanic bloodshot eyes were, in a word, terrifying. Utterly terrifying. "And this is how Natty tells older Brother? By dancing around before Ivan and snuggling up to *hic* his side, covered in - in other man's cum? TORIS' cum?"
She tried speaking, but he hardly gave her the time. She opened her mouth weakly, only to be slapped powerfully across the face as Ivan let go of her hands. She flopped onto her side on the bed, flashing her eyes up at him in confusion and horror.
"Little sister Natty is screwing with Ivan's servant? Natty let Toris plow her? Then Natty comes to door and gives Brother big hug?
"Older Brother, no! I - Toris? No!" She tried quickly sitting back up, but he forced her down once more with a strong hand on her chest, laying her flat on her back.
Russia clambered over her, a knee just below either side of her hips, his large hands to the side of her shoulders. His vodka reeking breath blew down into her shocked face, his light coloured hair hanging around his face under gravity's pull.
"When?" Ivan breathed, puffing more toxic air, trying to keep his balance in this pose and not sway to one side in intoxication. "When did Toris rail Natty? Cum still on Natty, so today, while Ivan was out? Evidence in Sister's hair and on cute little hands still wet, so not very long ago, da? DA?"
"I-Ivan, no, I-I've been in your room all day - " Natalya pleaded with the handsome, drunk man pinning her to the bed.
"In MY room? Liet banged Natty in Ivan's room?" The corners of his mouth drooped as a scowl tore across his lips. "ON IVAN'S BED?"
That was the overflowing point for Russia. Without another word, he reached for the undone top of Belarus dress and fully tore it open to her waist.
"Brother?" Before this night, Natalya couldn't have imagined, in even the smallest fiber of her being, that she'd be protesting and resisting this. Yet at present, she found herself desperately trying to cover her practically bare torso, a lacey black bra the only layer between her chest and her brother. What was it about a drunk, powerful, angry Russian that was so intimidating, apposed to the gentle worded, innocent looking one Nat was used to?
...Oh. Right. Drunk, powerful, angry.
Ivan was forced to sit up after almost tipping over while undoing the top half of Natalya. He was at a better angle now, however, especially for removing the rest of her gown. He had to shove her down again as she attempted to squirm.
"Stop trying to wiggle away. Natty can't leave, Ivan must do this. Natty has given Ivan no *hic* choice." He tugged at the skirt portion of her dress, slipping it down her hips without hesitation to reveal the skimpy second piece of her lingerie set.
"N-No more! Brother is drunk, and we're not m-married yet!" She begged, disobeying his order and trying again to get free, clawing backwards and moving away from him a few inches on the mattress. It would be no use. The last straw had been plucked in Ivan's alcohol distorted mind. He knew what he must do, and he was taking action. Immediately.
Ivan cinched her ankle in his grip and pulled her back down the bed. "Natty is resisting; surely Natty *hic* didn't fight when it was Liet undressing her." With the hand not in use, Russia grabbed the little halter around of thigh and broke it from her leg, discarding her weapon, then knotted it in Belarus long hair and brought her face up, leaning his own down to meet her halfway. Natalya, eyes half shut as she winced, grabbed onto his cold hands at the back of her skull, in an attempt to lessen the pain caused by her snagged hair.
"Ivan must fix Natty where Liet has distorted and dirtied her." He grinned, cold fingers suddenly dancing up her leg.
Her eyes burst open in horror. "Brother, no, please! This is a mistake, a-a miscom-" She gasped as his icy digits brushed across her panties.
"Little Natty brought it *hic* upon herself." His grin was like a cheshire cat. "Sit up." He whispered the command, knowing fully that she was too afraid not to comply. She did so very slowly and hesitantly. Ivan briskly grasped her hips and turned her around on the mattress, her back now to him. He pulled backwards her into his lap before sneaking his hand back to the top of her panties.
Natalya quivered in his lap, mind ascue with thoughts blurring past. Isn't this what I've wanted? Isn't this what I've fantisized? Brother and I in general, but especially Ivan being dominant and controlling... She tried phasing a more casual look and she gradually raised and slid her arms around his neck behind her, though her shivers were still slightly noticeable.
Ivan liked this new position she'd created. It gave him a better view to execute his plan.
He chose her right shoulder to sit his chin upon, giving him more visuals to her entire front. "Natty moves hands like this to make her feel good, neh? But Natty doesn't know what Ivan will do to her. If she did, she would still be trying to get away. This is not good part, Natty, this is Natty's punishment."
She froze. No, not like the fantasizies. This is not my fantasy.
"Ah, now Natty understands how to feel. Da, Brother will hurt Sister, but Brother must." Ivan's icy digits crawled their way under her panties. Natalya gave a short cry. "If sister is painted with Liet's cum, than sex was raw, neh? If sex was *hic* raw, than there is good chance that Natty is implanted with dirty spawn of Liet. Russia can't let little Lithuania grow inside Belarus. Brother Russia must get rid or little vermin inside Sister as soon as *hic* possible." A cold finger pressed through her warm, wet folds and found her seeping entrance. Not very slowly and not very carefully, he plunged his finger inside of her.
The inward cold was foreign to Natalya. At first it almost hurt, then it was just strange, then it bubbled a numb sense in her abdomen. Her breathing got harder and she squeezed her eyes shut, leaning her head back onto Ivan's left shoulder. He soon added another finger, and her breath hitched in surprise at the mounted pressure. She felt fingers slowly begin to move, circling inside her and rubbing against the warm, slick, enclosed walls inside her. On the outside, his thumb bumped her clit, shooting a tender, pleasuring tingle down to her toes. Oh, t-this isn t a punishment! She thought. it s too - ahh - n-nice to be a-
Her eyes peeled open as scorching pain ripped through her. Ivan had curled his finger inside Natalya and began scratching, digging and scraping his sister's tender walls with his fingernails. She cried out in agony before she was reduced to whimpering loudly. Ivan covered her mouth with his other hand to quiet her screams.
"Little Natty is very loud, neh? Brother must muffle Natty's shreiks so that little Baltics don't come in to see if Natty is alright."
He twirled destructively around in her for what seemed like a long, agonizing time. After a mere minute of scraping her insides, he slid out his fingers and removed his masking hand, letting Belarus fall forwards out of his grasps and flat on her stomach on the bed. A thin line of blood trickled from her groin just as salty defeat squeezed from her eyes.
"There. If Natty carried seed of Toris, it's dead now." Ivan pushed on her hip and she gentley flipped onto her back. She eyed her brother as the fear in her gut began to descend.
I-It's over. Another tear rolled down her cheek. The pain is done, he's gotten what he wanted. Oh Ivan, my sweet Ivan, I never thought you d ever do such nasty things to me. But it's over. You'll wake up tomorrow with a headache and no memory of this to haunt you with grief. Ivan...I can make it through this Ivan, I can try to forget this through time, and you'll never be hurt by remembering what you did. Belarus convinced herself into calming down. She stared up at his handsome form and admired his well chisled torso and strong arms hovering over her as his undone shirt dropped off his shoulders. He looked so alluring with only the end of his cream draped down his yummy chest. He tossed the white button up carelessly away from the bed as he began undoing his pants and hitched them lower on his hips -
Wait a second - !
"Why are you taking off your clothes?" Natalya's eyes burst open to their full extent.
"What? You think I am through with you? Nyet, Natty." Ivan placed his hands on either side of her arms and leaned down over her. "Brother will replace Liet's child with his own, so that Liet will never touch Natty again. No one will ever touch Natty in knowing that she has become one with Russia."
One. With. Brother? Why were no cupids and charob angels spinning around in Natalya's mind at the though of this? What she'd always dreamt of and wished for was offered right before her, and it didn't electrify her? Maybe it was the though of the pregnany he wanted. It wasn't the child bit; she didn't like nor want children, but if it was Brother's then hell yeah she'd have it! So why was this so terrifying? Why did Natalya still want to escape?
Her pupils contracted and a cold shiver stung up her spine as it hit her. He doesn't really want me to bear his child, he just wants to one up Toris. He thinks I was knocked up with Liet's kid and he's killed it, and now he's taking his shot. If I conceive, he thinks he'll have defeated Liet in my mind, but this is all in his mind! He's wasted and doesn't know what he's doing!
"I-Ivan! Brother, no!" She yelled, much louder than she had had meant to speak.
"Still so loud Natty." He scolded. "Hmm, what to use to quiet you down...ah, this will work!" The Russian's pale fingers worked around his neck as he unwrapped his scarf and slid it menacingly between his hands.
"Please, Iv- " Her voice ws muffle beyond recognition of words as he bound the scarf around her head, tying it tightly at the back of her skull so that the front gagged her mouth.
"There, all fixed!" He smirked a maniacal, awful grin. "Since Natty is too occupied to speak, Ivan doesn t have to *hic* ask if she prefers front or back."
Through he desperate eyes, Natalya managed a confused look.
Ivan's smirk lingered as he grabbed her waist and moved her so that she was laid perfectly in the middle of the bed, half her body emanating in the blueish moonlight. "Front or back?" He repeated, sliding his hands down to her underwear, soaked with blood and Natalya's bodily fluids. He drew them down to her ankles and completely removed them instead of pushing them out of the way like before. Over the side of the bed they went, to meet the rest of Belarus and Russia's clothes, with exception of her bra and his boxers. "Which way shall Brother enter Sister, from the front or from the back?"
Natalya's eyes widened and she quickly turned on the bed and scrambled for the edge. But Ivan was quick, too. He grabbed the back band of her bra and drug her back to the bed's center, holding her in that spot as she struggled, taking this time to remove his last covering, his boxers. As his attention returned to his sister, he tugged on her bra just the right way, making the clasps break open. She fell forwards on her face, completely rid of all clothing, as well.
Ivan wobbled a bit with intoxication at first, but regained his balance as he snuck up behind Natalya, sat up onto his knees, and pulled her onto her hands and knees with his cold hands grasping her hips.
"The back, then." His smirk widened, bloodshot eyes glistening. "Which means that Natty won't be able to watch. Is what Natty gets for trying to get away from Ivan, neh?"
She cold only look down at the sheets in defeat. She spotted the crimson puddle, still wet from creation not long go. Natalya's leg felt like jello, but Ivan seemed to be hold her up with those hands on her, holding her in this defiling position, in this defiling situation.
There was a funny, unfamiliar warmth at her sore entrance. It was...wet? Natalya wasn't sure what it was, and, through blushing, tear soaked cheeks, she felt embarrassingly that she might have asked if she wasn't gagged, when - well, it became very clear.
The only thing warm about Ivan - physically, mentally, emotionally - was his cock.
Her muffled screams were still apparent through the scarf as Ivan drove his eager member into his little sister, a deep, inner skin splitting inside of her agonizingly. After a moment, he pulled out of her almost completely before ramming back in. Natalya grasped handfuls of the sheets below her, panting wildly though the pain. Ivan repeated his thrusts again and again, gaining speed rapidly and plunger even deeper into his hostage. His action steadied out at a quick, lustful pace, and Natalya was practically rocking under him. Drunken mind hazing with raw pleasure, Ivan snaked his hands farther up Nat's body, making him almost lay on her back, and grasped her bouncing breasts. She moaned under the scarf as he fondled her roughly, feeling her nipples harden under his toying, cold fingers.
Damn, he wanted her to moan like that again! "N-Natty likes it w-when Brother rails her, da? Better than Liet?" His digits clamped around both her breasts, soliciting the longer, rougher moan he wished for. "Ah, my naughty Natty!" He cried in ecstasy as his impaired vision spotted with white splots all over and he released inside of Natalya.
She cried out, too, under the gag at the feeling of her slick channel being plastered with sticky, moist - warmth. Another part of Ivan that wasn't icy like his heart.
Russia pulled out of Belarus with crazy, orgasmic satisfaction. He freed her breasts from his grip and tugged his scarf undone from around her skull.
Natalya's knees and elbows collapsed and she slunk forwards, then onto her side, a trembling mass of nerves. Ivan smiled wildly and fell weakly and drunkly to mirror behind her, capturing her in his arms again and spooning her passionately. He gnawed and nipped sweetly on her shoulder as his hands roamed down to her lower abdomen and gently knitted together over it.
"Our baby," He sighed happily. "Will be right here, snuggled safely *hic* inside Sister. A little Natty or a little Ivan, but best of all, not a little Toris."
Moonlight was still glowing through Ivan's bedroom window. Natalya's eyes fluttered open sleepily, and she almost hoped perhaps it was a dream until Ivan's arm slid off of her. She stifled a yelp as she turned her head to see her brother in dead sleep behind her, and from how the bedsheets covered him, he was at least shirtless. She glanced quickly to the bedside table at the digital clock, the one she realized she hadn t gazed at since she was...well, a virgin. She hadn't done anything yet that wasn't as a virgin, not even walked. 3:58 .m. No, she knew she hadn't been dreaming.
She inched carefully off the mattress as not to wake him by the shift of her weight on the springs. Through the hardly illuminated darkness, she covered herself in the first article or clothing she found tossed on the floor; Ivan's white button up shirt. She pulled it on; it was like a loose mini dress on her; and did up a few buttons nervously, always watching her brother's form and praying that he wouldn't hear her and wake.
She quietly snuck out the door and tip toed a few doors down the hall to the battered door closest to the stairs. She rapped on it frantically, trying to be quiet from Ivan, but loud enough for the person in the room to hear. She began to lose hope just as it carefully swung open, a groggy Lithuania on the other side, rubbing his eyes.
"M-Miss Belarus?" He mumbled after a yawn, some stringy brown hair falling lazily in his face. "What are you doing awake - "
Natalya threw herself at him desperately, wrapping her arms round his neck and clinging onto him, as if for dear life. She sobbed on his shoulder.
"Uh, Miss Belarus?" He stuttered in shock, hands hovering over her until he decided it was safe to pat her back comfortingly. He noticed the white garment she was clad in. "Miss Natalya, wasn't Master wearing that shirt today - rather, yesterday? W-Where are you clothes? - And why aren't you wearing anything other that that shirt?" He swallowed nervously.
Natalya pulled away from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, tears running from the corners as she gave him a pitiful look. "Liet...help me."
She dropped to her knees before him, pain stinging in her crotch. Toris knelt down quickly to level.
"Miss Natalya, are you alright? Are you hurt or something?" Liet followed Nat's tearful gaze as she stared at Ivan's bedroom door. "Did...did Master do something to you?"
Belarus nodded weakly. "L-Liet..." She outstretched her hands to him, and he took her in his arms compassionately. He embraced her tightly because he knew she needed the stability. "Liet, we've got to...get out of here. You and I. He'll...come after you, I'm sure."
Liet nodded. "I think you need a hospital, Miss Natalya. I'll take you there, now."
"You..." She smiled painfully over his shoulder. "You can call me Natalya, or any short form of it. Just...just not Natty."
He smiled and hauled her to her feet, still hugging. "Okay, Nat."
"Quickly," She whispered. "We need to go right now, before he wakes up."
"Before who wakes up?" That dark, accented, evil voice emanated from behind Natalya's back. She dared only to turn her head, still clutching Toris.
"B-Brother..." She glanced at him nervously, unable to make direct eye contact. He had pulled his dark pants back on, and they sat, unfastened, on his hips.
"Sister." He copied. "I see, after all that has just gone on, you've run back to Liet anyhow. Well fuck."
"Uh, M-Master, good evening?" Toris wasn't sure what was going on between them, or what this had to do with him all of a sudden, but Belarus was trembling in his arms in only Ivan's shirt, so he suspected it was very, very bad.
"Toris," Ivan kept his eyes on Natalya, though speaking to his servant. "You know it's not polite to hug a pregnant woman so tightly. It might hurt the baby."
Liet looked at Nat in shock. Belarus is pregnant? What? Where did this come from all of a sudden? Wait - Ivan's shirt on Natalya - no, not those two. And they couldn't know if it just happened, anyhow... "Er - I'm so sorry, Nat, I didn't know!" He let go of her and stepped away, square into Ivan's chest.
"Might I see you in my room for a moment?" Ivan sat a strong hand on Liet's shoulder. It was more of an order opposed to a request. Lithuania nodded slowly and glanced at Belarus once more before walking through the bedroom door not far down the hall.
Natalya glared at her brother like she never though she would - with burning hatred. "Don't you dare touch Liet." She hissed.
That awful smirk smeared over his lips once more. "Or what, you'll *hic* stab me? With what blade?" He reached to his pants pocket and pulled out the Natalya's broken thigh halter, knife still inside. He shoved it back in his pockets and, with a little wink, Ivan disappeared into his bedroom, too, and shut the door.
Natalya stepped backwards and her back hit a wall. She let her knees buckle and she slid down it, knealing her head between her knees as she struck the floor. It wasn't long before Liet's cries sliced into her eardrums, then became much quieter. The scarf. She heard Ivan laugh.
I hate it when he's drunk. she told herself. Her hair fell into her face as she hung her head in defeat. There was a lock just in front of her eyes, she noticed, that had a smear of snowy paint across it.
She stared at that piece, then held her head in her matching paint slathered hands and she sobbed. She cried for herself. She cried for ropping Liet into this. She cried, though she didn't want to, for Ivan, out of pity, she thought. And finally, she cried for the unborn child perhaps lingering inside her, who, if it existed at all, would have to be brought into this wretched world of hers.
PPS: Yes, I know, if Belarus had been pregnant by Liet, Ivan fingering her wouldn't have killed it. Totally different organ. But, y'know, Ivan was drunk.
PPPS: No, it wasn't anal! It was just 'doggy style' or 'sexy back' or whatever you wish to call it. The 'inner skin splitting' was Nat's hymen. Duh~
Reviews are much obliged.