October 31, 2019
"Hey! Wait up Arthur! It's cold out!" Alfred called after his friend who was heading to the next house with his plastic kettle that held the candy he already collected. Alfred had a plastic pumpkin while he wore an outfit based off of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie that his father had allowed him to watch . . . even if he was six. Arthur, who was eight, wore a girly witch's hat and a knee-length dress-thing that he called a robe. Alfred still thought it was a dress though, no matter what Arthur called it.
Arthur stopped in the driveway of the next house with a pouty frown, "Then why don't you take less time goggling at your candy and actually focus on what candy we're going to get, maybe you'd keep up."
Alfred caught up to his friend and gave him a weird look before giggling, "Goggling? Where did you learn to speak English, 'cause that ain't English." He laughed so hard that he almost spilled his near-overflowing bucket.
"Oh belt up you git! This is bloody English, what you speak is not English! Come on!" he growled and led their way up the walkway to the final house of the street.
Those two children were far ahead of the group that was still at the far end of the road. He had seen a ton of these processions, they were either teachers taking their classes out for trips to ensure safety, or they were a group of children from the orphanage. The way the children had upper class scaled costumes and not lame ass, home made ones that the parentless children made confirmed which of the two it was. He watched the ones closest to him, waiting for them to draw near. They looked like two little boys, though one could very well be a girl with that robe, but once he had them he would confirm. Both had blond hair whereas one had a cowlick that stood proudly at attention from where it originated in his hairline.
They looked absolutely delicious, holding up their little candy-holders that they bought at the nearest Wal-Mart with their parents at one time or another. They wouldn't see what was coming. The van was in the back; it wouldn't be hard to get two small children to come to him, especially on Halloween night. A smirk graced his lips as he came up with a rather silly, yet doubtlessly plausible plan. He fell back into the shadows as he awaited his prey. He needed to tell the others.
"Alfred!" Arthur hissed to the younger boy while jabbing a mean elbow into his ribs, "Say thank you!"
"But he's scary," Alfred whimpered back, looking up to the tall Swede who had just given them each handfuls of candy. Everything from Hershey's to Jolly Ranchers and a Finnish man, who looked really fluffy and huggable-ly cute had fussed about the sugar and thrown toothbrushes in. Arthur had already voiced his gratitude in a shaky squeak, but Alfred hadn't been able to even pull that off yet. The steady gaze of the tall Nordic man intensified their fear, and the thought of a mad dash to the street courner didn't slip their minds, but Arthur would not let the young American leave until he acted "Like a proper gentleman". Right now, Alfred's gentle heart was going to explode out of his chest and go yelping like a dog down the street!
"Th- . . . thhh- . . . . Thhhhhhh- . . ." IT WASN'T COMING OUT! Arthur was practically in tears, why couldn't his idiot friend just SAY IT! Arthur opened his own mouth to show his gratitude for his own friend, but his voice died in his throat, going on strike until the next house where no terrorizing Swedes would stare down at him expectantly.
"Thanks," Alfred finally managed in a hoarse whimper, almost inaudible.
"'R 'elc'm," the man replied and they skittered away as the door closed slowly behind them. They walked down the driveway before Alfred exclaimed with a sigh of exasperation as he flopped on the curb, his pumpkin set beside him grinning like a demon, facing the shadows of the ally beside the house, as though watching the figure that looked like nothing more than a blur of grey.
"That was terrifying!" Alfred cried out like an infant, Arthur rolling his eyes at how immature the other was, despite how close of friends they were. Alfred had yet to grown out of his cradle, figuratively speaking.
The English boy swiped the folds of his robe to straighten them out and replaced his hat upon his head with an indignant huff, "You made it last longer than it needed to. Like you and those stupid horror movies you watch every weekend. You repeat the scariest scenes and scream the entire time it replays."
"So?" Alfred snapped, his small fists on his hips.
"So, what you need to do is- Hey! Where are you going?"
Alfred had noticed a little something on the side of the house and rushed to pick it up. He giggled in glee as he held up a sandwich bag full of candy, "Lookie! Someone must have dropped it. And look, it's all carefully wrapped." He was about to go back to his friend when he saw another bag and picked it up as well. "Someone much have a hole in their bag. Look, it goes all the way to the next street."
"Well get back here you git! I'm supposed to watch you!"
"Nuh-uh!" Alfred called back, following the trail of bags, "Who says?"
Arthur huffed, his pale face turning a shade of pink, "I says! I'm older!"
"By two years!"
"So!" he shouted after the American, "You stupid, dummy! I can't let you just walk away!" He danced in place for a moment, noting how far away the teachers were and how far away Alfred was getting before groaning in frustration and running after the younger boy.
The fingers inside of him massaged his pleasure spot as the toy vibrated against his penis. Tears stung his eyes as he bit his lip, trying to stay as quiet as possible as his body was being molested. He kept his eyes screwed shut, he knew how much the other hated his eyes, hated how they would weep and plea silently. He knew how much the other wanted to rip them from his skull and how badly he wanted to hurt his delicate frame. With two fingers in his tight entrance he felt full, how much more when his tormentor wouldn't be consoled to prolong his virginity.
He hated it, hated everything. He hated those fingers that made him beg for more, hated that man who hated him, hated the lights and the cameras. He especially hated the people who would pay to watch a child being tied and raped. He felt his climax rising with each prod of those fingers against his sweet spot.
"I-I'm going to-!"
"No you aren't! Hold it you little slut!" he snapped back, his fingers digging deep into the sweet pleasure. This was a training session, but they couldn't help but record. The man behind the camera was panting, jacking himself off to the scene. The fingers dug in as deep as they could, twisting and curling against the nerves, he couldn't help it, he screamed as the white ribbons shot over his stomach and chest, some spurting onto his face and in his hair. His legs shook with the force as his back arched, but as he was coming down from his high, he was smacked across the face.
"I told you to hold it bitch!" he shouted into the boy's face. Tears collected at the courners of his eyes, humiliation and pain mixing together into a bitter concoction. His hair was fisted and his head wretched forward, despite his entire body being tied to the bed, "What did I tell you!"
"T-to hold it."
"You don't need to be so hard on him man, it was a great cum shot," the one behind the camera whined. He wasn't into beating the young ones; they were too cute and delicate. But how the other bossed them and beat them around was still hot, oddly enough.
Alfred giggled happily as he picked up yet another bag of candy, which made fifteen. Arthur, on the other hand, was becoming suspicious. "Don't you find it weird that all these candies are in bags? It's realty strange."
"'Course not! You're wearing a dress, nothing weirder than that man," Alfred chirped happily, throwing bag sixteen into his now over-flowing bucket.
He giggled as the English boy's face turned cherry-red, "It is NOT a dress Alfred!" he stomped his foot, "How many times must I say it?"
"Aw."
"What is it?" Alfred's whine caught Arthur's attention only to see that the trail of goodies ended at the side of a white van. Nothing special about it, the windows were dark, so someone probably just parked it there for the night. Neither thought it was odd that the door was slightly open, or that the bag was so near to the car that it could only have been planted there. They were too young to notice the subtleties. Arthur, however, was getting a strange feeling from the van: a terrifying feeling. He grabbed his friend's jacket, "Leave it Alfred. Our class will be looking for us."
"Naw, they were barely from the starting line when we left them. 'Sides, Mrs. Héderváry wouldn't notice if we were gone a little while longer. I'm just snatching the bag and we'll run back."
Unsure, Arthur knew he wouldn't be able to talk the other out of his endeavor, so he nodded reluctantly, sticking close to the other. These houses weren't like the ones on the other street. Actually, they looked like they marked the end of the good neighborhood and entered the slums. While decorations were out to scare the small children, the English boy was quite sure that they looked scary regardless. Alfred inched closer to the bag, playing like a lion heading for the kill. Arthur rolled his eyes, but still kept an eye out for weirdoes, not knowing what they were getting involved in.
Finally, Alfred pounced, dragging the other blonde behind him with a soft cry of surprise. The American giggled, "See, nothing to be afraid of." Just as the words came out of his mouth, the door flew open and two pairs of hands shot out. They couldn't even scream before they were engulfed in black, locked by the click of the door sliding shut.
The bonds that had held him down the entire time were roughly removed and he was thrown to the floor on his white covered face, "I believe he should repay me the favor of that great orgasm. Don't you bitch?" Dully, with much resignation, the boy nodded his head, his eyes hidden behind his bangs. The man gripped his hair and wrenched his head up, looking into the innocent, flushed face. He pulled out his own throbbing cock with his free hand and pushed the dripping head against the quivering peach coloured lips, "Suck it you little slut. Suck it and enjoy." Without waiting for him to really open his mouth, he thrust his thick meat deep into his throat. He gagged as the weeping head slammed into the back of his throat, his mouth full and aching around the large cock in his mouth, the girth a little too wide for his mouth. He had taken in the entire thing involuntarily, his nose nuzzled against the patch of near-white pubic hairs. The strong, musky smell curled in his nostrils, making him wish he had no sense of smell instead of sight. The man used his grip on the boy's hair to pull him away slowly before pushing him back as close as he could, fucking his mouth thoroughly.
"You fucking bitch!" the man groaned, enjoying the forced blowjob. He felt his balls sack tighten and he pulled his length from the boy's mouth with an audible pop, jacking off to finish his peak, his seed spurting over the child's already stained face. Coming off of his high, he shoved his limp cock back into his pants, releasing his hair. The young boy fell to the ground, his mouth sore and his dignity shattered. The camera's flickered off with a soft click of the switch. He could hear the footsteps resonating through the cold, concrete floor.
"Leave him," the first man barked his voice distant, near the door perhaps.
There was hesitance in the footsteps, "But it's so cold in here."
"He likes it that way, now get your sorry ass out here with that camera. We'll edit the footage and sell it."
"A-alright." The footsteps receded, the low creek of the door groaned through the large room before the feet shuffled through it and the outside world was cut off with a bang. He didn't care. Day or night, light or dark, his world, eyes opened or closed, was just an endless black.
"Hey!" Alfred shouted from the back of the van, he was making good time on his binds that roped around his wrists and ankles. The American with the pale freckles on his face was a strong one; strong with a fiery spirit. He had already torn the tape from his mouth the second the sliding door had closed. Using his teeth like a feral cub, he gnawed at the binds, pulling the knot loose with his baby teeth, despite the fact that he was missing one.
Arthur was just scared, frozen with fear in the corner he has been tossed in by the men who had grabbed them. He didn't know what to do; he didn't know what they would do. It terrified him to be so helpless, but he was just a kid! What could he do? "Alfred?" The American boy finally pulled his wrists free and untied his ankles, not really paying attention to his older friend. "Alfred, I think we should stay where we are."
"Nuh-uh!" Alfred frowned, standing shakily before tottering over to the other, untying those knots, "We're going home! I'm the hero and I'm breaking us outta here!" Once he finished with his friend, he hoisted the English boy up and they looked around their small, dark space. From a street light passing by, they could see a sack of something on the far side. Alfred teetered over to it and looked inside, returning with their buckets of candy, some spilled into the bag, and other foods like biscuits and water, even fruits and vegetables. Both eyed the food suspiciously, curiously. Why would food be in a van? Maybe it was the men's meals? There was two of everything, and there were two men, so it seemed to make sense. The younger took the water, not quite trusting the food, and opened the bottle, not really taking note on how the lid slid off easily. He took a generous gulp of the clear liquid, savoring the moisture that hit his parched throat. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was, but that was probably from his screams at the man before having the tape slapped across his mouth.
He looked to his best friend, "The water is good, I don't taste anything in it like poison or something. The food looks really iffy though."
"Yeah," Arthur muttered, taking his own water bottle and sipping it. They didn't talk as they drank from the plastic containers, but slowly their eyelids became heavy and they were tired. Soon, they drifted off to dreamless sleep.
"France is coming back!" the older Italian informed them in a hushed warning. He was thirteen, much older than he could ever wish to be, but had been in the brothels longer.
"Ve~. Is Lud- I-I mean Germany with him?" the younger twin asked. He was a ditzy thing that made clients just fawn over him, but Germany, as his older brother demanded they call him, wanted the little idiot for himself. It was love that much was certain. And Germany wasn't a bad guy, he didn't really want to be part of his brother's business, but it was family. Family ruined things like that, you know, life and all.
The door opened and He entered the room. "Hey!" he shouted, grabbing the two Italian boys by the back of their shirts and all but hurling them into the wall. Suddenly his features softened and his voice became sickly sweet, "You could be seen if you stand by the window. Besides, Germany wouldn't be too happy if I told him that I had to lock away his bitch for being an idiot! And that isn't awesome, now is it?" Everyone in the room flinched at the sound of his grating voice.
"Yes Mr. Prussia," they sang solemnly, except for the small form curled in the courner of the room. Even the brunet who held onto his hand glanced at him worriedly. There were many of them, but Prussia could pick out their voices even in unison. The red eyes slid over to them, fear gripping the small brown haired boy. He didn't care, he never did. The black may be terrifying to some, but it had a degree of warmth to it as well. There would be new ones, scared ones who didn't know where they were, probably from the city over the border, Maine or New York. He would take care of them, everyone looked to him.
He could feel the anger that bore into him from those crimson eyes, the eyes of a devil man. His own violet eyes seemed to glow in the din of the room as he stared back sightlessly. "Of course Mister Prussia."
He woke up and it was dark, but he felt something warm curled up beside him. What could it be. He reached out to the darkness and patted it softly. It was soft, kind of, it was also sturdy. He poked it hard and a small whine escaped it. Alfred gasped in alarm and jumped back. It was another person! No way! That wasn't Arthur because it was too small to be him. He pushed against the form in the dark once more.
"Quit it," the voice whined pitifully, "you'll be regretting that you woke up so early when Prussia opens up The Cage."
Alfred yelped and fell back again, "Wh-who are you?"
"Isn't it more polite to introduce yourself before asking another's identity?" the person inquired in a soft voice, a slightly higher pitch than his own. They yawned and turned to him with dimmly glowing lavender eyes with large pupils that seemed a little pale.
"Uh," he wasn't expecting that retort, "I'm Alfred F. Jones."
"Oh, real names. I'm Ivan Braginsky, but everyone calls me Violet Haze. We need to come up with something for you."
Nicknames? What was this place? The Cage? What? "Um, where am I?"
"In The Cage. It's a whore house for small boys. I'm six by the way. Turning seven in December." A brief silent period followed when the other boy suddenly exclaimed with a giggle, "How is Star?"
Alfred wrinkled his nose, "That sounds pansy. What about Blue Hero? I am a hero, did you know that? And I'm six."
"Heroes aren't attractive."
"Are too!" he was suddenly hissed at to lower the volume and he did so reluctantly, "Ever seen Superman? The girls throw themselves at him."
"You're six, how would you know anything about that? Never mind. But Superman doesn't have men throwing themselves at him. Those are our main clients you dummy." Ivan stuck out his tongue and Alfred did so back, so Ivan pushed him and Alfred pushed back and soon they were tumbling across the cheap wood floor giggling as they pushed each other around. The sun started peeking through the windows and the commotion awoke the other boys slowly from their slumber. Once they had worn each other out, they lay beside each other laughing. "Blue Star. it fits you."
Suddenly the door burst open and Prussia stood in the threshold. "Well, seeing as you're all up, let's get to work."
A/N: WARNINGS: Non-con, child abuse, kidnapping, rape, coarse language, ect. ect. Anything horrible that you can think up, tell me and it most likely will show up, whether I am a fan of it or not.
Anyway, if you don't get the message, anything that deals with sex or sexual themes you can post and I'll most likely put it somewhere in the story. Ya know~? This should be fun.
I, in no way, approve of Child Human Traffiking and I find that anyone who is in the business should be executed on sight. Review and tell me what you think.