Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Hetalia or its characters.
"...You can't do that!" America exclaimed at Jacob's sudden proposal. "We're countries—you injure us, you injure the whole country itself."
"That's why I'm not going to kill you, rather...make you both vulnerable." Jacob watched both nations carefully. "At your healthy condition, you can do just about anything to get free. If I were to just shoot you, it would hinder your ability to run away. It's not like I'm killing you, per say, so why are you so afraid?" A sinister smile curls up on his face. "While the actual country itself may hurt, so what?"
England grunted. "You'll do just about anything, huh?" He pauses. "Why are you like this? What is it that you want from us?"
"You were my best employee, Arthur."
"That's..." England starts, "not really..."
"But, of course. Ever since you joined, we've received much more income than ever before. It was like you had some sort of connection with the customers. It was like...you were made just for them."
England shudders. "So, you're saying...that I was practically made to be a slut?"
At this statement, America's expression sours. "That's not true."
"Is that so?" Jacob scoffs. "You were lured in, weren't you? You saw Arthur, just sitting there. You took the bait and just couldn't help yourself."
"How can you say that-" America started. "You don't know me. You don't know my thoughts." America pauses and wraps his arms around England. "I love this man even though I met him through means of prostitution. While that may sound so far-fetched—believe me, I would know that it isn't."
England's skin flushes a bright red and his head swings in the direction of America. His eyes grow teary; the ability to hold back tears suddenly proved to be a difficult task in itself.
"That's why I'm not going to let you take him away from me, Jacob. Even if it means that you'll have to kill me in the end."
"Is that so," Jacob grunts. He takes out what looks like a walkie-talkie. "Take them." He mumbles into the device.
All of a sudden, large men in black uniforms break into the house. One jumps in through a window—another one comes from the entrance of the hallway. Others tumble into the house, one by one, as if they were preparing for some huge fight to ensue. America's grip tightens around England as the room gets crowded with the suspicious men.
"Don't be too rough with them-" Jacob pauses and his expression widens into a nasty grin, "especially with England."
England shudders again, this time more violently. As the men start to close in on the two huddled on the floor in the middle of the room, America starts to scream.
"No—you can't take him away from me!" He starts to frantically push away the men with his feet. England, emotionless, sits like a mere doll in America's arms. America looks at his lover and starts yelling at him. "Why aren't you doing anything?! You don't want to go, do you? Sitting there isn't helping-!" He keeps pushing the men away from them, but the two were just outnumbered.
One hand with a cloth of some sort clasps over America's mouth—he can't breathe. He could feel himself growing tired as his will to fight suddenly slows down drastically. He takes one more glance back to England before he passes out.
England was out of America's arms, standing beside Jacob. Jacob's arm was around England—his smile that of a madman.
"..." America starts to stir. His eyes blink once, twice. Thrice, in rapid succession, he looks around the room.
"Where the hell am I?" He thinks aloud; the place is clearly unfamiliar. He tries to get up, but he realizes his body is too weak and that he is in chains anyway. As he tries to look around the room for a clue of some sort, his eyes stop on a bent figure. Sounds of heavy breathing fill the room—what was it? America tried to figure it out, but he couldn't tell. The room was dark—he was unable to see anything other than what was directly in front of him. As he listens closely, he hears the sound of a slurp. The sound of something so lewd makes America shiver—what in God's name was it?
"You fucking slut," a voice breathes, "it's amazing how you can be so good at this in such a short amount of time. It's no wonder you were popular among the others."
America chokes on his saliva—thoughts run a muck in his head as he fears the worst.
"...E-England?" America stutters, managing to get his voice to be heard. The slurping stops. A man grunts somewhere in the room.
"You've awoken?" The voice asks.
America trembles, but it wasn't from fear. Perhaps it was anger?
A chair squeaks and there was the sound of a zipper being pulled up. Footsteps clatter slowly on the ground toward the cage. Upon closer inspection, the man was indeed Jacob.
"You bastard," America mumbles under his voice. Jacob chuckles.
"Looks like I've got you cornered now, huh?" He taps the cage with his finger. "You look like a poor, helpless puppy. How do you think you'll get out of this mess, hm?"
America grunts. "Shut the fuck up and let me go. Once Japan-"
"Japan, you say?" Jacob paces back and forth. "It's too bad. We have Japan detained as well."
"What?" America gasps.
"However, enough of that." Jacob turns around and grabs England by the shoulder. He pulls him over by the cage and throws him on the ground. He's blindfolded and panting heavily.
"What did you do to him?!" America screamed. The poor country on the floor jumped, started at the sudden outburst.
"He's OK—there's only a couple of drugs in him, only to keep him in control." A zipper is being pulled down. America feels his heartbeat grows faster and faster by the minute.
"What the fuck are you going to do?" America asks, fear laced in his voice. Jacob chuckles silently as he places his hands violently on England's hips. England takes no notice whatsoever as Jacob pushes his body towards England's. England whimpers and shakes his head as Jacob intrudes him.
"Arthur?" America calls out England's given name—and the fear grows more intense. With no answer, America's throat chokes.
The sound of skin on skin sounds throughout the forsaken place. England's moans grow louder and louder each second; his hands grip the bars of the cage tightly. Even in the dark, the white of his knuckles could be seen.
There was nothing America could do, but sit there and watch.
"Jacob, you bastard!" America yells. "Stop it! What right do you have to do this to a helpless person?"
"I have..every right." He grunts and smiles. "He's my employee—he signed...a contract..!" He thrusts particularly hard into Arthur; it makes the poor nation cry out in pain and pleasure. His voice grows hoarse. "Which means..I get every right of Arthur, whether it be...his body, or everything else..!"
He keeps thrusting. He doesn't stop, even when England finally climaxes. Jacob pulls the back of England's head with his hair—England's screams grow faint now, as if he's out of strength to even voice his own pain.
Finally, Jacob climaxes and he releases all of his seed into England. Once he empties himself, he pulls out and zips his pants back up.
"That's why you're so good at this, England. You just sit there and take it like the worthless whore you are." Jacob sighs and walks away.
America stares at the writhing body in front of him with fear. It's like he's never seen this person before—thanks to all of the drugs he's on. America holds his hand out, wanting to touch him gently. Wanting to wipe the fresh tears away from the poor nation's face, just anything to take the nation out of his pain and torment.
"England," America whispers. The nation tilts his head up slowly. England's eyes are filled with fear, confusion—pain, most of all, and the redness around his eyes do indeed show that he had been crying. "Can you take these chains off of me? We need to get out of here."
England breathes heavily and looks in the other direction. Jacob doesn't seem to be around. However, England barely comprehends what America had just said. He looks back at America helplessly, mouthing inaudible words. It seems as if he is still feeling the waves of pleasure his orgasm brought on.
"England, come on-" America whispers a little louder. "Do you know what I'm saying? Please snap out of it!"
England moves his arm slowly. He reaches into the cage. America sighs with relief once he sees that the nation does understand, even if it is only a little bit. His fingers brush against America's arm as he tries to find the chain. Once he finds it, he tries to press a little button that releases the chain.
After a few seconds of fumbling, England finally presses the button and the chain is released. America smiles. "Good job," he mumbles. He gets the other chain off with his now free hand and reaches around the cage door to unlock it. As he climbs out, he signals for England to follow him. However, because England is drugged, he stumbles back and forth like he's inebriated. America frowns and quickly picks up the nation into his arms. England's hands claw at America's jacket and his empty eyes search America's own.
"Don't worry," America whispers in England's ear, "we'll be out of here in no time.
"All right?"
Author's Note: Wooooh. Another chapter~
Ehh, Christmas Break is coming up in a week and I'm really excited. I want to accomplish more during that time, so hopefully I can write more and whatnot. (Though I always break my promise when I say that. ._.)
Reviews are appreciated~
Thanks for reading!
