Opening Statement: Was gonna post this in the morning, but I have my Japanese final tomorrow and I plan on sleeping in until the very last minute. Anyway. This is my most favorite chapter of ever for this story. I love it so much. So so so much. It makes me feel so happy inside. I had so much fucking fun writing this. And if you get the reference to the title of this chapter without the help of Family Guy or any other tv shows, then I love you so fucking much. But yes, please enjoy like I did with this.
Disclaimer: Right.
WARNING: Roleplaying, Bondage, S&M-ish, Bloodplay-Knifeplay, Belt spanking, inappropriate use of a gun, fire breathing dragon at the end (don't know what it is? Look it up. ...Or look at the bottom of the page. I explained it there for convenience. *headdesk*)
影ちゃん
The American sat at the table, arms tied behind him and legs tied to the legs of the chair. He kept his gaze low, chin against his chest, sky blue eyes focused on the knot of his tie and mouth set in a straight, firm, unmoving line. The room was dark, and gloomy, the American could see a few damp spots in the corners of the room probably from a leaky pipe.
The door to the room swung open, weak light filtering in faintly for a brief moment before the door was slammed shut again. The American heard soft footsteps approaching the opposite end of the table, and then saw gloved hands gripping the edge of said table. He looked up, seeing the bane of his existence, and scowled.
"Oh~? Don't give me such an unpleasant look, небольшой поросенок," the Russian chuckled, gloved hands tightening their grip on the table. The Russian was dressed in a midnight blue overcoat with the six golden buttons on the front and gold bullion embroidery on the cuffs, shoulders and lapels. His matching dark blue and red USSR's cap was tilted down, hiding his eyes in the shadow of the visor to give him an ominous look.
The American stuck his tongue out childishly at the Russian, glaring hard at him. He wasn't going to waste his time pretending to be polite to someone he hated with a passion, especially if this man already knew he hated him. And especially if this man hated him back.
"You might not want to do that, lest I cut it off, моя дорогая капиталистических свинья," the Russian chuckled, violet eyes glittering with malice. He patted the place where his belt lay concealed behind his overcoat, indicating his hidden weapon, only one of many he had on him, to the American. "Why don't you tell me your name first, da? Then we can get to the...fun."
"No way I'm talking," the American growled, blowing a raspberry at the Russian, who was becoming annoyed with him very quickly. "Besides, it's rude to ask someone's name before saying yours first!" He thanked all the television he'd watched that had taught him that particular quote, because he certainly hadn't known that before tv.
His already wore down patience running even thinner, the Russian resisted the urge to smack the American's head into the table with his pipe. "Da," he replied, mouth set in a firm, neutral line. He took his USSR's cap off and placed it on the table carefully. "I suppose. Ivan Braginsky."
"You already know my name, but whatever," the American huffed, sticking his tongue out childishly. "Alfred F. Jones, the 'F' stands for freedom. Which is something you seem to lack in this backwater, red, commie country of yours."
"We have freedom," Ivan said with a giggle. His smile didn't reach his eyes. Perhaps Russia didn't have as much freedom as America, but it had all that it needed, and that was all that mattered. "Now, perhaps you would like to inform me as to why you are in Russia. We already know you are a spy, why not tell us all the details, hm~?"
Alfred huffed and turned away, giving off a confident air to show that he didn't intend to betray his country any time soon. This was it! This was his James Bond moment and he had to make it worth it! His breath hitched as the Russian moved around the table, behind him so he couldn't see what he was doing. Twisting his head, Alfred managed to catch a quick glimpse of his captor before he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.
"Oh? Are you sure?" The heavily accented words made the American shiver; he didn't know whether it was anticipation or anxiety though. When Alfred stayed silent, the Russian sighed and shook his head. He really disliked it when they didn't just do as he said. It was so much easier if he didn't have to torture them. Though this one was different, he could have fun with this one... He pulled his knife from his belt and chuckled as he pressed the tip gently against the American's throat, indenting his skin just barely. He saw Alfred swallow heavily as he did this, and trailed the knife down further. He tugged the knot of the American's tie down and discarded it, finding no current use for it.
"H-hey..." Alfred breathed, apprehensive of what Ivan would do if he were to raise his voice. He took a sharp inhalation of air as the Russian nicked off the top button of his shirt. He heard it clatter softly onto the floor somewhere. "H-hey," he said, louder this time. "This shirt is..." he trailed off as the knife cut another button from his shirt, slowly but surely revealing the smooth expanse of his chest bit by bit.
"Look at this," Ivan chuckled into Alfred's ear, his hands playing over the skin that was exposed to the cold air. He pinched one of the American's erect nipples and tweaked it none too gently, earning a cute little stifled yelp. "Are you perhaps enjoying this?"
"No!" Alfred exclaimed through gritted teeth, squirming in the chair he was tied to. If he ever got his hands this commie bastard... "It's...it-it's cold in here!" he said, glad that it actually was cold enough for the excuse. He would never admit it but this was actually a bit of a turn-on.
Ivan chuckled and his hand wandered down further as the hand holding the knife continued to cut off buttons, getting the last few easily. "Oh? And I am to assume this," he punctuated the word with a quick squeeze to the American's groin, where an obvious bulge was becoming apparent in his trousers, "is because of the cold as well?"
"Uh..." The American's mind blanked. 'Shit, what was my line again?' Dammit, hadn't he had this all planned out beforehand? "I-it's because...I..." He squirmed a little under the hand was toying with his zipper, playfully pulling it down only halfway before zipping it back up again teasingly. He didn't pick up the sentence, hoping Ivan would get the cue.
After a short lapse of silence, the Russian giggled and popped Alfred's button, then yanked the zipper down. He then pushed the shirt aside, revealing more of the American's tan skin. Ivan licked his lips, eyes practically molesting the expanse of delicious, sunny skin. He brandished his knife and trailed it down the middle of his captive's chest, light so he didn't break the skin but hard enough to be felt. He giggled as he saw the American shiver under the touch.
"You really want to lie right to my face, свинья~?" Ivan chuckled, pressing the knife against Alfred's skin a little harder when it reached his stomach. He heard the American's breath quicken under the pressure. There was a brief moment where Alfred's breathing was silent as the Russian pressed the knife against his middle harder, nicking a small, shallow cut into the skin. It didn't bleed, and it didn't hurt, but it was still pretty freaky.
Alfred pointedly kept his mouth shut. There was no way he would tell this communist bastard anything! He almost squealed in surprise when the Russian leaned down and grabbed his leg before cutting the binds that held it there, then did the same to the other leg. He was about to ask what the hell was going on before the back of his shirt was grabbed, he was forced to lean over the table and the chair was kicked to the other side of the room. "Wh-what the hell!" he shouted, flinching when he felt the tip of the knife nick the back of his neck, and gasped when it dragged down his back, ripping open his shirt right down the middle. "H-hey!"
"Unless you intend to spill your secrets, shut up, свинья," the Russian growled, pushing the shreds of the shirt to the side. He chuckled and pressed the knife against Alfred's skin, indenting just hard enough to break the skin. A bead of blood escaped the wound and stained the knife, a red blemish on the shining metal. Ivan dragged the knife down the American's skin, tracing his spine, making a shallow cut.
The cut stung, but it wasn't too painful. Alfred squirmed under the sensation. When he wiggled a little more, Ivan placed a hand at the back of his neck and held him down, telling him to be still. The American ignored the order and continued to squirm under the dull sting of the knife. He moaned pathetically under the sting, gasping when the Russian dragged a gloved finger over the cut painfully.
"Are you going to tell me everything you know~?" the Russian hummed, spreading the cut painfully to make it worse. He easily made a few more shallow cuts on the American's back, holding back a moan when Alfred shuddered under the sting and whined quietly. "If you are uncooperative I have...other ways to deal with you." Ivan laid the knife on the table and began undoing his belt, pulling it out of the loops. He chuckled when Alfred craned his neck over his shoulder and looked at the belt apprehensively. He saw a barely visible flicker of fear flash in those irresistible, sky-blue eyes and he couldn't help but shiver pleasurably at that.
Holding him down with one hand, Ivan easily ripped the American's pants down, revealing his commando state, and two perfectly round, soft globes. Ivan giggled as he saw no underwear. "Oh my," he chuckled as he folded the belt together one time and held it tightly in his fist. "It seems as if all those rumors about Americans are true." Alfred blushed shamefully, already knowing what the Russian meant by his words. "I already knew that American women were sluts who spread their legs for anyone, but I didn't know it was the men who did that as well."
"Fuck you," Alfred muttered half-heartedly, wiggling his hips a little to try and warm up his lower body. Why was it so goddamn cold? He swore, when he got one chance to kick this bastards ass he was gonna take that instead of escaping.
The Russian chuckled and shook his head, but replaced his hand at the back of Alfred's neck to hold him down and tightened his grip on the belt in his hand. "Now. I will start out gentle with you, but be warned that it will not end that way. Unless you want it to, that is. Now," Ivan told him, pushing his knee behind the American's leg to keep him from kicking back. "Why are you in Russia?"
"Fuck you," Alfred grumbled, a little louder than before. He knew what would happen if he didn't talk, but he wasn't just going to betray his country! That was so not heroic.
"Alright then." The American flinched in anticipation, but to his surprise when the belt made contact with his flesh it was only a light tap that didn't hurt at all. Alfred let out a sigh of relief he hadn't known he'd be holding in, and Ivan laughed. "Perhaps another question. Are there others here like you?"
"Fuck you." The American made sure his voice was more firm, leaving no room for negotiation. There was no way in hell he was going to talk, especially if all he was being threatened with were little love taps.
Ivan didn't speak, he just brought the belt down once more, harder than before, but still not enough to hurt. "If there are other spies, where are they?" When all he received was another 'Fuck you', the Russian growled and let the leather belt come down again, harder this time, on the American's ass. It made a quiet little 'smack' when it made contact.
Alfred winced. That one had stung a bit. He was asked another question, which he replied with a simple insult, and the belt came down again, harder than before. That one actually hurt, just a little. He winced when the grip on the back of his neck tightened, gloved hands gripping hard enough to leave marks.
The pattern repeated like this for a while, Ivan would ask a question and Alfred would refuse to talk, and the belt would spank Alfred's plush ass harder and harder each time. Eventually it got to the point where Ivan wasn't even asking questions anymore, he just kept bringing the belt down on the American's reddening flesh over and over again, with tremendous strength that increased each time he brought it down.
It got to the point where Alfred was almost in tears, crying out each time the leather belt connected with his sensitive ass. As each loud, taunting 'Smack!' echoed around the room, Alfred's cries of pain got louder. His face was red from embarrassment and shame, lower body trembling under the force of the spanking he was receiving. What the hell kind of interrogation technique was this? This could not be common practice... He had a feeling that this communist bastard was doing this just because it was him.
"You know you can make this stop any time you want," the Russian growled, bringing down the belt unusually hard. His violet eyes focused on the reddened ass presented to him, welts appearing on the abused flesh. Ivan's pants felt tight, and he found he was breathing heavily. It seemed as if this American was having more of an effect on him than he had originally thought. Ivan moaned quietly and moved his hand from the American's neck to tug at his collar. It was suddenly so hot.
Alfred gasped and screamed in pain as the belt struck him once more. He felt tears springing to his eyes, threatening to spill. He tried his best to hold them in and not show weakness to the Russian. When he heard the belt drop to the floor, Alfred let out a sigh of relief. He yelped in surprise when the Russian behind him reached between his legs and grabbed a hold of his hard cock. Alfred gasped and closed his eyes, blushing with shame at how hard he was.
"Look at this," Ivan breathed in his ear, husky and taunting, thumb flicking over the sensitive slit of the American's manhood. "You are such a little slut. Did you enjoy your little spanking~? It feels like you did." The hand playing with Alfred's member moved up, and traced one of the welts on his ass that the belt had left. Ivan licked his lips and dragged his other hand down the American's back, smearing the thin lines of blood the shallow cuts had made. The hand tracing the welts on Alfred's sensitive flesh dipped lower, a gloved finger brushing his entrance. "Has anyone beat me to here?"
Alfred violently squirmed under the touch, trying to get away from it. He didn't say anything, and gasped when a gloved finger was pushed inside him. "St-stop!" He pleaded, trying to kick back at the Russian, only for his legs to be held down forcefully.
"Hm, really? Too bad. But perhaps I was foolish to believe that maybe you weren't too much of a распутная свиней." Ivan clicked his tongue and shook his head. He withdrew his finger. Alfred relaxed noticeably. Now, he couldn't have that. "I'm not done with you yet," he chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his six shooter. He grinned when Alfred gasped as he saw the silver gun.
"Wh-what...what's that for?" The American swallowed heavily, sky-blue eyes wide.
Ivan chuckled and popped out the bullet pipe and emptied all the bullets out of the chamber onto the table. He took one bullet from the table and put it back in the roller, clicked it into place, and spun it. "Perhaps you would like to play a quick game of Russian Roulette, da?" He wondered if he could get Alfred to say the safe word.
Alfred's breath quickened, bottom lip quivering slightly. He was silent, eyes locked on the gun. He was about to say something before the barrel of the gun was placed at his open mouth. His gaze was fixed at the silver metal, not quite knowing what to do with it. Was this commie bastard going to shoot him?
"Get it nice and wet if you don't want it to hurt, небольшой поросенок." Ivan giggled, his unoccupied hand tracing the cut on Alfred's back he had made earlier. His finger itched to pull the trigger. He could, there was a five in six chance that the bullet wouldn't shoot. He purred out a few Russian insults to the American as Alfred took the barrel of the gun into his mouth and ran his tongue over the lip, tasting just a hint of gunpowder on the freezing metal.
Alfred was quite honestly scared shitless. At any moment Ivan could decide to pull the trigger, and the Russian hadn't told him if there were blanks or real bullets (though he knew that even a blank could kill him at this close of range). He could very easily have his brains blown out, and that wasn't a totally heroic way to die. At all. ...Not that a bullet would actually kill him, because he was a nation and all, but still it would hurt like a bitch and that would be one damn interesting story to tell the doctor at the emergency room, 'Well, y'see, doc, me and my asshole boyfriend were roleplaying and he had this idea for gunplay, sooo...'
An empty click resounded around the room. Ivan chuckled and pulled the gun back. "Looks like you are rather lucky for the first shot. Though anyone else could be just as lucky." He dragged the gun down the American's spine, pulling the trigger once he reached the middle of his back. Another empty click. Ivan smirked. "Lucky again." He pushed the barrel of the gun to Alfred's entrance. "Are you just as lucky down here?" He didn't give the American a chance to reply as he shoved the barrel of the gun inside, issuing a loud groan of discomfort.
The barrel wasn't thick, but it wasn't particularly thin either. It was round, luckily, so it didn't feel too awkward going in. As it began thrusting in and out of the American, he let out a garbled moan that was half pleasured, half pained. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut when he heard another click. He let out a sigh of relief as nothing happened. He yelped in surprise when the barrel of the gun was pushed inside him deeper than before, his body swallowing the weapon's barrel all the way up to the trigger guard.
"My, you're just a lucky one, aren't you?" Ivan chuckled, licking his lips in anticipation. The sight of his gun disappearing inside the American's body was almost too much for him. He wouldn't be surprised if he didn't last very much longer before giving in and fucking the damned capitalist pig.
Biting his bottom lip to keep in any noise he might have allowed to escape him, Alfred held in the stifled, muffled moans and gasps as the barrel of the gun was continually pumped in and out of him, the imposing danger of the trigger looming over the situation noticeably. Despite the danger, Alfred found it rather exciting. If not completely and utterly humiliating that he was getting fucked with a gun.
"Oh, just look at you," Ivan purred, violet eyes locked onto the beautiful sight before him. "You're body is so greedy, taking it all in, just like the insatiable, capitalist pig you are, da?"
The America groaned and shook his head, or tried to at least, mouth parted with eyes half lidded, breathing heavy and pushing his hips back into the moving weapon inside him. He heard another empty click and shuddered, knowing that this game of Russian Roulette was getting rather dangerous now.
"Only two more times~ I wonder which time it will fire!" Ivan giggled and narrowed his violet eyes dangerously at the American as he traced the cut on Alfred's back idly.
Alfred groaned as the cut on his back was irritated by the Russian's gloved hand. Would Ivan really kill him? He wouldn't actually do it, right? The whole point was to scare the shit out of him so that he gave up information, not to kill him...right? The very thought made him just a little sick.
Another click was heard, and Alfred held his breath, letting it all out in a hurried exhale of relief when nothing happened. He yelped when he was grabbed his hair, the gun was pulled out of him and tossed onto the table, then he was thrown onto the ground, landing on his stomach. He groaned, turning his head to the side and flexing his hands, still bound behind him.
"You seem to be fairly lucky. I would pull the trigger again, but sadly I cannot kill you until you talk." Ivan clicked his tongue and shook his head. He reached into his coat and pulled out a faucet pipe, what looked like dried blood on certain parts of it. "I can, however, do anything I want that won't kill you," he Russian giggled, tapping the pipe against the table a couple times to make a metallic clang echo around the room ominously.
Alfred shuddered and tried to at least sit upright, only for Ivan to grab his legs and pull his bottom half up with his upper body still pushed onto the floor. Alfred whined and tried to wiggled away from the touch that guided his body into the right position.
"Stop moving and maybe this will hurt less," the Russian growled, smacking Alfred on the ass. He grinned when he got a pained yelp out of it. "If you liked the gun you will definitely be liking this, da?" Ivan slid the cold metal pipe between the American's cheeks, causing him to shiver. "I can see you are already shaking with anticipation!"
Alfred squirmed a little and bit out a 'Fuck you' as he tried to shake off the pipe from his sensitive skin. He gasped when the Russian's gloved hands groped his behind, squeezing painfully, hard enough to leave a mark. "D-don't even think about it, you fuckin' commie bastard! I-I can tell people what you're doing!"
The Russian chuckled lowly and ran his hand over Alfred's back idly. "You would really tell people what has transpired here?"
"...I-I..."
"You would really tell people you moaned like a whore as I fucked you with a gun?" Ivan chuckled, tightening his grip on the pipe. "You would tell people I spanked you with my belt and you liked it? You would tell people that you fucked yourself on a dirty, bloody pipe and came on it~?"
"I...I would never do that! I don't like any of this!" Alfred exclaimed, squirming under the firm grip on his hip. When had that gotten there?
"You keep telling yourself that, slut," the Russian purred, gently tapping the pipe on Alfred's reddened ass. "The only way you can tell people about this and get me in trouble is to lie about what you really felt. Do you think they would care if you told the truth and told them you got off on this? I'm sure they'd do something nasty to you, in fact."
"You fucking red bastard!" Alfred decided to just switch to insults. "Are you fucking blackmailing me when you're the one doing the bad shit!" he demanded, trying to kick the Russian bastard, only for his leg to be caught and forced back down.
"Perhaps~" Ivan giggled, bringing the attention back to the pipe by tapping it on the American's back. "I think you should focus on this, свинья." He placed one hand on Alfred's nicely rounded ass, and positioned the pipe at his unprepared hole. "You can make this stop, свинья~ But only if you want to!" He was about to plunge the cold, unyielding pipe inside of the American before he spoke up,
"W-wait!" Alfred whispered, trying to think of something that could pass as a good lie. What had his bosses been talking about...? He knew there was something going on in Russia, and he supposed he could distort the truth enough to get himself out of this situation. Did he even know any cities in Russia...? He knew two. That would be plenty. "St-Stalingrad..." He mumbled. "And Moscow." Were those two close? It didn't matter, he was already using them in his story. "Something...something around there. That's all I know. I swear. B-but please...stop."
Ivan giggled, absolutely gleeful that Alfred would try to pull such a story with him. It was bold, however, and that was a trait that should be rewarded. Ivan simply giggled once more and placed his pipe on top of the table to be retrieved later. He grabbed Alfred by the hair and forced him up. Ivan turned him around and shoved him down onto his knees. He grabbed his knife off the table and sliced through the binds holding Alfred's wrists together, then placed the knife back on the table. "I suppose that you do deserve a treat for that, even if it is a lie." He knew for a fact that there were no American spies in Moscow at that exact moment. The Russian popped open the button of his pants and pulled down the zipper. He pulled himself out, stroking his hard member, taking delight in the scared look the American gave his large cock. At least Alfred could see that everything was indeed biggest in Russia. "This is your reward~ If you bite, I will bite you back much harder, da?"
The American was shaking a little as he leaned forward, grasping Ivan's pant leg with one hand to keep steady. He licked around the head of the Russian's cock, dipping into the foreskin and tracing the sensitive slit. His labor was rewarded with a moan and a growl. He lapped at the cock testingly, trying to avoid doing much else.
"Deepthroat it, slut," Ivan growled above him, grabbing him by the hair and pushing his head forward onto the member, practically shoving half his cock down the American's throat in one go.
Tears pricked at the corners of Alfred's eyes, threatening to spill as his gag reflex rebuked. He managed to subdue the intense urge to puke and slowly began moving his head back forth over the Russian's large member, trying hard not to gag as it scraped the back of his throat. He put his tongue to work as he bobbed his head, massaging the underside of Ivan's shaft and circling the head. Alfred was on the verge of crying. Why was this happening to him? Why couldn't life cut the hero some slack?
"My, so good at this..." Ivan purred, petting the American's hair, urging him to move faster. "How many people have you done this with...? Too good for a beginner..." The Russian moaned, curling a finger around the defiant cowlick on Alfred's head. He gasped as the American moaned loudly around his cock and spasmed just slightly when he did this.
'Oh that fucking cheating bastard!' The American mentally shouted at Ivan, intending to kick his ass later. He shook off the finger around his ahoge and returned his attention to the Russian's hard member still in his mouth. He pulled away, gasping for air, and dragged his tongue down the length of the erection, lapping at it like an ice cream cone. 'Two can play at that dirty game!' He thought, sucking on certain parts of the Russian's member before moving on to other parts. He made sure to stroke the parts he couldn't reach immediately, and licked from base to tip and back again every couples seconds. He heard a quiet gasp and moaned against the heated flesh, more from the taste of the Russian's skin than much else.
A hand tangled in Alfred's hair, fisting tightly and pulling. The American groaned and took Ivan into his mouth once more, moving his head slowly at first, building speed. He was only able to take in a little more than half of the Russian's cock, but that didn't stop him from thrusting into Alfred's mouth, practically choking him every time he did. Alfred was lucky he'd long ago gained the ability to subdue his gag reflex any time he needed.
Alfred felt the salty taste of precum touch his tongue, and he groaned. He sucked gently on the member in his mouth, wishing he could get more of that taste. It was odd, but not unpleasant, almost rather good, salty and sweet at the same time. He ran his tongue under the Russian's foreskin, tracing the edge and dipping in to poke at the slit.
Ivan growled and tangled both hands in the American's hair, pushing him down further, forcing him to take in more of his cock. He was close, and there was nothing keeping him from coming inside the American's awaiting mouth.
Alfred almost bit down on the Russian's cock when cum flooded his mouth. He was so surprised that he choked, semen shooting out his nose and dribbling out around the corners of his mouth. He managed so swallow most of it, but some of it ended up on his cheeks and chin. Alfred groaned and wiped his face off, then licked his fingers clean of semen. It tasted like Vodka and musk. His throat was a bit sore after that, and it felt like he still had cum stuck in his nose. "Oh fuck..." he groaned, wiping his face of anything he had missed. "Shit...I'm gonna be hacking up communist spunk for days..."
Ivan grabbed Alfred by the hair once more and shoved him down, turning him around on all fours. He kneeled behind the American and hummed pleasantly, stroking himself to get hard once more. He rubbed Alfred's tender flesh, smacking his already red ass. He savored the yelp of pain he received, rubbing his thumb over the slit of his erection. "This is mine now." He reached between the American's legs and grasped his leaking erection, squeezing. "You will never do this with anyone else, or I will hunt you down and make sure you know who you belong to." He growled, his fingers dragging up the American's length. He grabbed the American's hips and dragged him closer, lining himself up with Alfred's entrance and shoved himself in completely in one, swift movement.
Screaming out in pain, Alfred gasped and buried his face in his arms, sobbing under the pain. He gasped as Ivan began moving in and out of him, grabbing him by the hair and using him to keep steady. Tears streamed down Alfred's cheeks, his body rocking back and forth from the force of the Russian's thrusts. "Fuck..." He gasped, sobbing quietly. "Fuck...fuck you!" he ground out, slamming his fist into the ground in frustration.
"Nyet. In Soviet Russia, I fuck you!"
That's where Alfred lost it. He tried to hold it in, but he only lasted a couple seconds before he burst out laughing, smacking the ground with an open palm. That was hilarious. "J-jeezus...jeezus fuck, Ivan, what the fuck was that?" he laughed, tears still pouring forth from his eyes. These were from laughter, instead of acting. "Dude, I didn't even know you actually said that shit in Russia!"
Ivan pouted. "Alfreeeeed!" he whined, wiggling his hips a little, playfully. "Do not break characteeer!"
"Psh, yeah, like I could actually do that when you're saying shit like that. Besides, you're the one who went and played with Nantucket! I thought we agreed that was a no-go. Bastard. And what was that thing where you came in my mouth you asshole! I almost choked! I think there's still some of your spunk up my nose!" Alfred huffed, pushing his hips back a little as he looked over his shoulder. "And just because I'm breaking character doesn't mean you get to stop moving, now fuck me!"
Rolling his eyes, Ivan began moving once more, this time in softer, more gentle thrusts. "Where did you learn to pretend to cry like that, Alfred? I am curious about your acting skills."
"I am the most heroic, awesome actor ever, now fuck me harder!" When Ivan raised his eyebrow at him, Alfred sighed and admitted the truth, "okay, okay, when I was a colony and I wanted something Iggy would usually say no, so I learned how to make myself cry and he would give me anything I wanted. There, now can we please get back to the sex? Oh yeah, and what the fuck was up with that shit with the gun? Was that a blank or something?" He really hoped it was.
"Nyet, it was a real bullet. I could have actually killed you."
"WHAT!" Alfred shouted in disbelief, looking over his shoulder with a mortified look on his face. "You actually put a real fucking bullet in there! What the fuck! You could have fucking shot a bullet up my ass!"
Ivan giggled. He didn't tell Alfred that he had messed with the bullet beforehand and had made sure it couldn't have come out unless the trigger was pulled the final time, because if he did tell it just wouldn't be any fun. "Da, now get back into character, капиталистического шлюха," Ivan chuckled, smacking Alfred's ass for added measure. He placed both hands on the American's hips and sped up his thrusts, pounding into Alfred harder and harder each time.
Still irate, but glad that he was still alive, Alfred took a moment to take a deep breath before getting back into character and whipped up some crocodile tears that could pass as real. He wiggled his hips a little to give the Russian the cue that he was ready. A hand almost immediately gripped his hair, causing the tears to spring forth even harder. "Ahh!" he cried out, throwing his head back as his hair was pulled, just as Ivan hit his sweet spot.
"Nnn...tight..." Ivan purred, keeping himself inside the American for a moment before pulling out and resuming the rhythm he had interrupted. "I would think a свинья like you would be loose...mmm, but no, so tight..." He slammed inside the American, hoping to hear more of those delicious screams, and was indeed rewarded with one. Ivan moaned and continued to pound into the trembling figure below him, now just senseless rutting as opposed to having any actual rhythm.
Alfred gasped and spasmed under the assault to his sweet spot, his body trembling and shaking. Tears were running down his cheeks in waves as he pushed his hips back to meet the Russian's wild thrusts. He was so close...! If only he could hit that one spot just a few more times! Alfred screamed in pleasure as Ivan reached around and squeezed his member gently, pumping him up and down, the combined pleasure sending him over the edge.
As Alfred's sight came back, his body was still being jostled back and forth, the Russian still pushing in and out of him to find release. He gasped when he felt something other than Ivan's cock filling him up. He moaned as the Russian's member softened inside of him before pulling out. He whined from the loss, pushing his hips back rather provocatively.
"Маленькая шлюха," Ivan snickered, smacking the American on the ass as he stood and tucked himself back inside his pants, buttoning up and picking up his cap from the table before placing it on his head. "You will most likely be sent home in a swap, thank you for giving me information. Clean yourself up, slut."
Alfred rolled over and flipped the communistic bastard off, pulling up his pants with just the slightest bit of shame showing in his features. "You're such a fucking asshole, y'know that? Can we break character now and go take a shower?"
"Awww, but I was having such fuuuun~!"
影ちゃん
"Ugh, geez..." America groaned, holding his head. His sinuses were feeling a bit stuffed ever since he and Russia had done that roleplaying thing the day before. At first it was just a little annoying, all he had to do was sniff a bit and he would feel fine again and he had maybe coughed a little, hacking up a bit of phlegm, but now it was so much worse. "Hey, Iggy, you got a hanky or something? I'm feeling kinda plugged up."
England sighed and pulled out a handkerchief from his coat, handing it to the American. The Brit rolled his eyes. Really, Alfred should be focusing on their trade meeting, not a head cold! "Here, lad, keep it. Get it all out, then we'll get down to business. Please don't say you need another lunch break..."
"Nah, I'm cool. Thanks." Alfred took the handkerchief and blew his nose into it. He felt much of the excess snot leave him, and he already felt much better, a lot less stuffed up. "Ah, much better." He looked down into the handkerchief, and his eyes widened. "Oh god!" he shouted, seeing quite a bit of that sort of white substance on the light blue cloth. He crumpled it up and tossed it at England, just a bit freaked out.
"The bloody hell is wrong with you, you stupid git!" England shouted, picking the handkerchief off from where it had landed on his head. He opened it up and looked at his former colony with a raised eyebrow. "Alfred, what is this?"
"It's Russia's fucking cum, what the fuck do you think it is!"
England sighed. "Alfred, do not be sarcastic with me." He folded up the handkerchief and placed it on the table, pushing it away. He had no desire to claim it as his belonging anymore, now that it had been used.
"I'm serious!"
"Right, of course." The Brit sighed, rolling his green eyes, not believing his former colony in the slightest. Right. Yeah. Alfred would actually sleep willingly with Russia of all people. 'That'll be the day I ask France to marry me.'
影ちゃん
Translations:
небольшой поросенок - little piggy
моя дорогая капиталистических свинья - my dear capitalist pig
свинья - pig
капиталистического шлюха - capitalist whore
Маленькая шлюха - little whore
Notes:
Tried super hard to make Russia's uniform realistic, I think I ended up using a navy or a marine uniform... I can't remember, twas a while ago, but his uniform is based off an authentic soviet uniform.
A fire breathing dragon is when a guy busts in his partner's mouth and it ends up so that the man's ejaculate exits through the nasal passage. Yup.
This chapter is very loosely based on interrogation, don't read too much into it
Shadow-chan's Final Thoughts/Rants: I think Russia would enjoy roleplaying. Just seems like him. Psh...I love this. There is absolutely no way there will ever be any other chapter that takes the place of this one as my most favorite ever. I love this one way too fucking much. So much. Sooooooo so much. ... I want to fuck it, that's how much I love it. ... Yeah. Um. I'm baked. Like super baked. Like I'm surprised I'm typing properly baked. Um yeah. So thanks for reading. I love you all so much.
Sneak Peek: Sex over the phone~
Humor a high fangirl and feed her some delicious reviews (or souls, those too) *nomnomnom* I love you alllllllll! Ten reviews and the next chapter comes on Saturday :3 *bow*
