Hey guys~ Thanks for reading.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia
Author's Note: If you've made it thus far, you know the deal. Abuse, pedophilia, other things that should never be practiced in one's lifetime.
I laid on my bed, a small candle flickering as empty eyes stared back at me. The little mirror held a reflection of myself, one I didn't care to see. I was ugly, littered with scars and bruises. I tore my eyes from the shameful image, banishing it from my mind.
I held my arm up, letting the candle illuminate it. The fresh burns shone red and black in the dim light; bruises fusing with new, raw skin. This was ugly too. Not good enough, never good enough, not for Arthur. Not for my beautiful, perfect Arthur.
I closed my eyes, my blurry vision troubling me. I hugged the hurting arm to my chest, laying soft kiss on the forearm. No, it was ugly. So very ugly. But that didn't matter, because Arthur loved me anyway. He still didn't find my scared body disgusting, he still wanted to touch it, to stay with me...he still loved me.
Footsteps echoed through the hall with an eerie resonance. I quickly turned, blowing out the candle, and flipping over as I pulled the blanket over me, feigning sleep.
The creak of my door nearly made me jump, but I willed myself to stay still, my eyes clenched shut as the footsteps became louder, closer. A hand ran through my hair and I heard my breath hitch, a nervous feeling making my stomach hurt.
"I know you're not sleeping." His voice was calm and level, but my eyes shot open, fear striking through them. Soon enough they glazed back over, the hand in my hair having a calming affect. I sighed softly, contently.
"I'm sorry Arthur, I wasn't tired." His hand continued it's movements, sending pleasant tingles up my spine, causing me to shiver. It was...nice. To say the least. I loved when Arthur was gentle with me, adored the way he stroked my hair, looked at me with loving eyes, told me sweet things. I loved it. It always made me submit, no matter what it was, no matter what he wanted. And he always wanted something...always. This kindness had a price, one I was never told, and in my submissive haze, allowed completely. I was okay with it, content even. As long as I was allowed this kindness, this moment of bliss.
"I would like to reward you again." His hand already had me hypnotized, I could barely make out his words. "Would you like that, Alfie?" My breath hitched and I let out a small noise. What it was, I'll never know, but somewhere, between a moan and a whimper, I unconsciously agreed, my head nodding before I could even think about what my rewards had been.
Covers were soon torn off of me and Arthur seemed to loom over me, his presence suddenly worrying me.
He smiled sweetly, letting his lips press to my forehead and his hand continue to move. Just like always, my nightshirt was pulled over my head, my shorts tugged off.
This had seemed to become a ritual for us. Sometimes, during the night, Arthur would slip in, merely rip my clothes from me, and stare before redressing me. I could never understand why he did it. Was he angry? No. His eyes were to giddy, to pleasure filled for it to be an angry lash. He was staring, staring at the ugliness of my scars, but still, he stood by me...maybe he would do that to reassure me, maybe to humiliate me, maybe to confuse me beyond all reason so that I clung to him for dear life...and like a fool, I always did.
Hands ran down my sides, and I sighed, the tension releasing from my body. His soft hands were something I loved about him. He stared at my body, as if taking it all in. His lips pressed to mine, the taste of smoke and tea lingering between them. I let him kiss me, giving in and earning a satisfied purr as I kissed back, moving my lips against his. He pulled back again, stopping to look me over.
"S-stop it...it's ugly..." I regretted it before the words even left my lips, the unconscious thought gnawing away at me. I chewed my bottom lip, avoiding the shocked expression his face.
"You are not." A kiss on my forehead. "Your reward today will be for me to prove that." His lips were on mine again. I was taken by surprise, the pure shock of that statement made blood rush to my cheeks and my veins run cold. His lips moved from mine, and I quickly felt them on my neck. He was kissing there, his tongue flicking out occasionally, as if to sooth the already healed cuts. They moved to the sensitive area behind my ear and I giggled, squirming at the giddy feeling it gave me. His tongue darted out, followed by his teeth, letting them graze the sensitive skin.
I let out a new noise, something foreign to me, and he did it again. My voice did the same and confusion stayed plastered on my face, I didn't understand why I had made such a sound, or why I wanted to make it more, the reasoning behind it still foreign to me.
He smiled and moved on, kissing down an arm, making sure to pay attention to every single bruise or cut, making sure his soft lips were allowed a taste before moving to my other arm. He moved to my chest, kissing softly before sucking a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently on it until he coaxed a moan from me, more confusion flashing over my features. He gave the other the same treatment, more odd sounds slurring from my lips.
"Alfred, those sounds are good. They mean you enjoy what I'm doing. Your body is telling you it enjoys the attention." I nodded, still not sure what that even meant. His lips moved down my stomach, the wet trail making me shiver as the chilled air hit it. Soon, kisses went down my legs, only stopping to kiss and lick the back of my knee, where I seemed to make the most noise. He kept his mouth there, simply sucking and my leg spasmed, kicking and twitching as a slur of moans and whimpers passed through my lips.
He kissed his way up my thighs, stopping at my member. I stared down at him, unsure of what his intentions were, or why he had stopped at such a vulgar place. He leaned down and kissed there too, eliciting a small whimper from me. It reminded me of the time before, months earlier, when I had done something similar to him. I remembered the sounds he made, and that awful white liquid, and suddenly I was scared. I couldn't find my reasoning for it, but it scared me, absolutely terrified me.
I willed myself to stay still, watching as he kissed it again, his head lowering to take it in his mouth. He began to suck, moving his head in an obscene way that seemed to swallow me whole and slowly allow me the release of freedom before taking me again. I whimpered and groaned, thrashing my head as my body sent me mixed signals. He pulled back and replaced his mouth with his hand, meeting my hips as my unconscious movements met the jerking motion of his hand, bringing me to a bliss filled land of white.
Something overcame me and my whole body shook, convulsing and spasming under Arthur's touch. The euphoria overtook me and I practically screamed, unsure what was happening to my body. Arthur smiled down at me, kissing my lips as I stared at the ceiling in dazed confusion. "That, my boy, is what happens when a man's body feels extremely good. He will get those feelings so long as one who loves him stimulates him here." His hand wrapped around my manhood for emphasis, making me gasp.
"B-but...the white liquid..." His smile broadened as he realized what I meant, chuckling lightly.
"You won't be able to release that until you are a bit older Alfred, you are still but a child." I nodded, and with a satisfied smile, he pulled my nightshirt back over my head, tugged up my shorts, and placed a tender kiss on my forehead before slipping out of the room, as he had so many times before. I heard him say something about getting...sheep maybe? Maybe he wanted me to get some sheep... but I was too tired to care, my weary body relaxing against the sheets as I drifted off to sleep; thinking about my wonderful, perfect, loving Arthur.
l have all these plot ideas that I'm not sure how to mold into a story. (Also, something about getting sheep. That would be, something about getting sleep, not literal sheep. I had someone ask me that)