Okay.... So I want to explain where this came from really quickly for those of you who are 'WTF sadistic!Italy!?' -laughs- My fanfiction muse sent me some Hetalia pictures, one of which is a picture of N. Italy dominating S. Italy. We got into a discussion about it and by the end I decided I really wanted to write something inspired by that idea.

In theory this idea is amusing to me. In practice it's kind of disturbing. Still, it was a bit of a challenge and it was fun for me to write.

Once again: Warning for torture, rape, and OOC Italy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its delightful characters.

"Romano has been missing for three weeks now. There... has still not been any sign of him and no one is coming forward to take responsibility. We're asking that if anyone has information that might be a potential lead, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem, please bring it forward."

Germany looks around the room at the assembled countries he stands before. They are all silent. Italy's sobs can be heard throughout the room making all of them uncomfortable at their powerlessness to do anything. It was usually not a good sign when countries disappeared without a trace. Spain, who sits at his side, hugs him tightly.

Germany lowers his gaze and sighs. "We will find him. He has to be somewhere. So please... if you know something share it. And if you... if you took him then come forward. It is inevitable that you will be discovered in time, no matter how well you think you have covered yourself! Your punishment will be twice as severe if you do not come forward on your own accord while you still have the opportunity."

Once again the room rings with silence. There is nothing else to say. Germany nods once. "Right. That is all. Italy, did you...?"

Italy looks up, eyes red from crying. "P-please, if you have my brother don't hurt him. Please don't hurt him!"

He buries his face against Spain's chest once more, weeping. Germany closes his eyes, heart going out to Italy. He is not the only one.

The assembly breaks up somberly, no one saying much. A few of them stay back to try and comfort Italy.

Hungary holds Italy tightly. "There, there dear. It's only a matter of time before he's found. Everyone is putting their best effort into it."

He nods. "I-I know... Thank you."

She runs a soothing hand through his hair and kisses him on the forehead. "Stay strong for him."

"I'll try..."

Tears slide down Hungary's cheeks. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Italy shakes his head. "N-no, your words... that's enough. Grazie."

She takes his hands and squeezes them. "It will be okay Feliciano."

Austria steps forward and takes Hungary into his arms before addressing Italy. "Things may seem bad now but we will find him. Please, let us know if there is anything that we can do for you."

Italy nods and the two of them walk away slowly.

Spain puts a hand on Italy's shoulder, tears lurking in his own eyes. "No need to cry... Austria's right. We just... we just have to find him. I know he's somewhere. I can feel Lovino in my heart."

Italy puts a hand over Spain's. "Yes, you're right. Thank you Spain, that means so much..."

Spain gives him a wavering smile and rubs at his own eyes before the tears can fall. "I have to go home to take care of a few things but I'll go to your house as soon as possible if you don't want to be alone."

Italy shakes his head. "N-no that's alright. If anything I should come see you. He disappeared around your home right?"

Spain nods, eyes clouding with pain. "Alright... alright yeah. I'll give you a call when it's okay."

The two of them hug one last time before Spain walks away, looking like a man who has lost his way.

Germany walks up and places a gentle hand on Italy's shoulder. "I'll take you home. Though you know, I would really be okay with it if you came and stayed with me..."

Italy shakes his head. "No, I just... I have this feeling that he might show up and I have to be there just in case... Just in case he comes home."

Germany hugs Italy tightly. "Yes... Yes. I understand. Everything will be fine Italy, don't worry. I will find your brother."

Italy hugs him fiercely, his shoulders starting to shake softly. "Th-thank you Germany. I know you can do it!"

Germany pets Italy's hair. If for nothing and no one else, he would find Romano for Italy's sake.


It is drizzling slightly when Germany drops off Italy. "Please remember Italy, I'm just a phone call away. If you need anything or want company... Just call."

Italy nods. "Thanks Germany... For everything."

Germany watches him walk dejectedly to his front door. He sits there for a while longer. Really he shouldn't be alone... but maybe it was what he wanted, what he needed right now. With one final look back Germany takes off. He would be sure the check in as soon as he got home himself.

Italy waits, leaning against the doors until he hears Germany leave. After waiting a few minutes longer to make sure he won't come back Italy wipes his face of false tears and begins to chuckle.

It was too easy.

Humming to himself Italy walks at a leisurely pace to a door. It's an inconspicuous door, absolutely nothing eye catching about it. Any curiosity would quickly be diverted by the fact that it is locked. Italy pulls the key from one of his pockets and unlocks it. He flips on a light and locks the door behind him before walking down a narrow staircase.

Once he reaches the bottom he takes out another smaller key and opens a large, black cabinet. Inside are many fun little toys. After perusing them for a moment with his eyes he finally takes out a leather riding crop. He slaps it against the palm of his hand, leaving a stinging red mark. He smiles. Perfect.

Closing the cabinet, he takes out the third and final key as he approaches a second door. He unlocks it, letting the handle turn slowly and the creaking door open at an agonizing pace so that it might alert his prisoner of his presence.

As he enters the room his eyes light on a heavy chain that weaves to and fro as he traces its path. It ends at a shackle attached to a delicate ankle. Beyond that there are two thin, shapely legs pulled tightly to a chest a bit frail from slight starvation, as well as two arms just as wonderfully sculpted as the legs they hug. And pressed against the knees is brown hair, slightly dingy with grease, and hidden away is a beautiful face stained from tears and fear and pain. All of this is barely covered in a tattered piece of white cloth around the shoulders and nothing else. Italy smirks slowly at the sight.

"Ciao Romano! I've come to play again."

Shivering violently, Romano hugs himself tighter. Italy walks over head tilting to the side as he looks down at him. "Ve? What's wrong fratello? Why won't you greet me? Didn't you miss me? I missed you so very much. All I could think about is how much I wanted to see you."

The country on the floor makes no response. He had been much feistier the first week, fighting back and screaming himself hoarse. He had mostly pleaded the second week. This week the trend seemed to be frightened resignation. It reminds Italy much of himself. Or how he once was. It simply makes him want to hurt his lovely brother more.

Italy stands in front of him. "Please look at me. You are making me very sad..."

Very hesitantly, Romano finally lifts his head, blinking up at his deranged brother. "P-please... please let me go. I don't know why you're doing this. Just please... I-I won't even tell... I won't tell anyone I swear. I'm begging you!"

Italy leans down, using the crop to tilt Romano's face up. "Romano, Romano, my dear Romano. Hearing you beg makes me sick."

Romano cringes as his brother caresses his cheek with the crop. "Let's play a game big brother! If you win I won't hurt you. If you lose..."

He smiles cheerfully and laughs. "I guess it goes without saying what will happen."

Romano swallows hard. He never won these games. Still, it always gave him a sliver of hope, no matter how thin. "Wh-what game?"

Italy takes the crop away and places it under his own chin, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Hmm let's see... I know, whoever can make the other one come first wins! Sound fun?"

"Wh-why are you doing this to me?"

Italy smacks him sharply across the face with the crop and he cries out. "Are you going to play or not? If you don't want to play the game we can skip it altogether."

Romano winces as cold pain pulses across his cheek. "I-I'll play."

Italy beams at him. "Ve~ I'm so glad! I love playing with you big brother. We never got to spend time together when we were young... Isn't that sad?"

Romano looks up at him silently then slowly nods in case Italy wanted some kind of response. "Well, we're making up for lost time now... After all, before this you never wanted to spend time with me even though there was nothing stopping us."

"Mi dispiace... I just..."

Italy unzips his pants. "Oh Romano, it's okay. You don't have to make excuses. If you want to apologize you can just start sucking."

Romano stares at him. A blowjob... He could do a blowjob. He wasn't that bad at them either. He might just win this one. Though how Italy intends to make him come in this position is-

Italy grabs his head and pulls him towards his crotch. "Well? Aren't you going to try? We can't play until you start."

Trembling, Romano leans forward the rest of the way and slowly takes Italy into his mouth, face flushed with shame. A part of him loathes himself for doing this. Another voice quickly speaks soothingly in his mind.

You've done worse than this in the time you have been here. This is nothing. Just get through this.

Romano begins to suck, pausing to lick his brother's rapidly growing member from time to time. Italy pets his hair fondly, kindly. "Ve, this feels really nice Romano! You must have done this for Spain a lot, huh?"

Romano doesn't pause to try and respond, just focuses on the task at hand. This was simply a job to be finished as quickly as possible. He does not allow himself to dwell on what he is doing, who he is doing it for...

After enjoying the warmth of his brother's mouth a few moments longer, Italy finally lets the hand that rests on his brother's head slide towards the left. Without warning he gently starts to twirl Romano's curl around his finger. Romano shudders, nearly choking on his brother. That was unfair! If Italy was going to play with his curl then he only had a short time frame to make him come before he did. He doubles his efforts, his movements becoming less coordinated in his panicked state.

Italy smiles down at his brother, enjoying how he squirms as he desperately tries to get him off as quickly as possible. Italy continues to play with the curl, bobbing it up and down, twirling it, rubbing it between his fingers, giving it the occasional sharp tug which makes his brother gasp in response. Overall he is enjoying himself very much. He loves how Romano's face becomes as red as a cherry tomato, his breathing turning into heavy panting, his eyes glazing over. It especially amuses him that the more turned on his brother gets, the worse of a job he does at sucking him off.

Romano tries hard to ignore the heat that settles in his stomach and throbs through his groin. Italy's cock slips from his mouth and he shivers, face flushed. "Ch-chigi... St-stop, this isn't fair..."

Italy laughs lightly. "I'm not cheating. Are you giving up? That's no fun."

Romano quickly shakes his head and tries to detach himself from all physical sensation as he takes Italy back into his mouth, desperately bobbing his head back and forth. It's hard to concentrate, hard to breathe...

Italy smiles mischievously and gives the hair one final twirl followed by a sharp tug. Romano's body violently jerks as he comes, mostly onto himself though a bit gets onto Italy's clothes. Despair rolls over him, making the pleasure bitter.

"Ve, too bad. Looks like you lose again. And you were so close too." He rakes his fingers through Romano's hair then tugs it hard, pulling him away. "You made a mess too. Clean it up, okay?"

Tears of frustration are already starting to form at the corners of Romano's eyes. Losing these games meant punishment, pain. Trembling, Romano leans in and begins to lick spots of semen from Italy's pants. He searches carefully, terrified for the moment he finishes. Finally there is none left except on his own body. He looks up hopefully at his brother. Perhaps this humiliation counted as part of his punishment. Italy crouches down and stares at Romano for a while.

"Hmm you know, you really look pathetic right now. I bet Spain would cry if he could see you like this. Do you think he would cry? Or maybe he would be turned on. You know him pretty well. Tell me, would he be turned on Romano?"

Romano swallows hard, tears snaking down his cheeks. "I-I don't know. Please don't... p-please don't talk about him."

That is the wrong thing to say. Italy delivers another sharp blow with the riding crop to the same cheek as earlier. Romano lets out a chocked sob and holds his cheek. "Why? Tell me Feliciano!"

Italy reaches out. Romano winces but he gently cups the injured cheek then leans in and kisses him tenderly. When he pulls away he wears a disturbed smile. "I suppose it's because I like seeing myself in pain."

Romano's eyes widen and Italy leans in again, kissing him more fiercely. Romano whimpers as Italy bites his lower lip, splitting the bruised skin. As Italy hungrily kisses him, he begins to trace his fingers against Romano's thigh. Romano shies away from the caressing fingers. They persist despite this, sliding up his body, over his ribs and up to his nipple. They circle it lazily, strumming it from time to time. Suddenly Italy pinches it hard and Romano cries out against his mouth. Italy breaks the kiss, his fingers not relenting. He wanted to hear his brother's beautiful cries of pain. His brother does not disappoint. And this was just the beginning.

Italy leans back and gives Romano a shove so that he falls back onto the floor. He giggles. "Hey, hey, turn over for me, okay? I'm still turned on from earlier."

Feeling ill, Romano sits up and flips over onto his hands and knees. His arms are shaking so badly he can barely support his weight. Now his body is alive with fear. There was no holding off the inevitable. The sooner this was finished the better.

Italy tilts his head and smiles. "Ve~ You have such a cute butt Romano. I really like it."

He takes the riding crop and smacks Romano across one cheek leaving a bright red mark, the opposite side of the one on his face. Romano bites back a cry. Italy grabs his brother's hips and pulls him closer. As he presses the tip of his cock to his brother's entrance, the energy leaves Romano's arms. He lays in this uncomfortable position, chest and head against the floor while his backside remains upright. Closing his eyes tightly he awaits the first penetration. It is not long in coming.

Italy fully presses into Romano roughly, a cry of pain filling the room. With a cheerful smile on his face, Italy savagely begins to fuck his brother, fingers leaving even more dark bruises on his hips. Romano begins to sob and whimper in misery on the floor. It isn't enough. Italy wants his lovely voice to echo around him.

He raises the riding crop and without breaking his fluid pace begins to bring it down sharply across his brother's back. The stinging blows rain down upon skin already filled with bruises and healing cuts and scratches. With each blow the pain seems to increase tenfold as welt lands upon welt. Romano screams. Music to Italy's ears.

Suddenly one of the blows opens up a fairly fresh cut on his back, blood slowly seeping from it. Italy pauses in his beating to lean in and lap up the blood. He sucks gently on the wound before biting it. Romano gasps, his nails biting hard into his palms. They are covered in scabs from the amount of times his rough fingernails have dug too hard into the soft flesh.

Italy's mouth feels restless and begins to bite new flesh, painting his tan and red canvas with more purples and yellows and blues. A true artist at heart.

Romano breathes heavily, dizzy and too weak to even try to resist. He just had to get through this. Once Italy came he usually stopped.

Oh Dio, Oh Dio, si prega di consegnare a me, si prega salvami, si prega di farlo smettere.

In front of Romano's hazy vision he sees the white scrap of material that had been around his shoulders earlier. The flag of surrender. One of the rules, another game, was that he was allowed to use this at any time. It meant that Italy would stop anything he was doing without fail for the day. However, to wave it also meant forfeiting food for a period of twenty-four hours. Yesterday the pain had been far too great, the toy his brother had chosen too unbearable, and he had used it. His stomach aches for food. No matter how tempting it is to use it he must not. Not if he hopes to survive. Really today wasn't even half bad in comparison to many other days. Italy was almost being kind. This couldn't go on forever. Someone had to find him eventually...

This thought gives Romano's voice strength. "Feliciano, you must stop this insanity!"

He winces as teeth sink into his shoulder. "Ah-! Y-you will be discovered! Don't you see it you damned idiota? If you get caught it will be much worse than if you let me go now!"

Italy places his mouth against his brother's ear and begins to sniffle then weep. "Wh-where is my beloved Romano? I miss him s-so much! Who would take him? Who? P-please bring him back to me! He's more important to me than a-anything in the whole w-world! S-see Romano, who would ever believe that little Italia would have you locked away?"

The sobbing quickly turns into dark laughter and he bites the lobe of Romano's ear. "You belong to me now. No one will ever find you."

One of Italy's hands wander across Romano's body, finally stopping at his cock. "Besides, I would think you wouldn't want anyone to know how perverted you are. Did you notice? You're already getting hard again. Ve, that's really funny. Romano is a pervert!"

He begins to roughly slide his hand up and down his brother's shaft, squeezing a bit too hard at times. Romano closes his eyes and wills his body not to respond to this humiliation, to remain flaccid. His face burns with renewed shame as he becomes hard under his brother's harsh care.

Italy stops touching him, satisfied with himself and his brother's feeling of disgrace. He places his hands near the top of his brother's shoulders and runs his fingernails across the battered flesh, leaving fresh scratches. "Romano I think living with Spain has made you dirty."

Romano's eyes harden and he can't help but mutter, "I said don't talk about him you bastard..."

Italy shakes his head, a smile still on his face. "You've been talking back a lot today Romano. It makes me happy. It's more interesting this way. I was starting to miss you. However, dogs must learn not to growl at their masters."

Reaching forward, he pries Romano's mouth open and fits the riding crop in his mouth, tugging on both sides until it rests at the corners. He pulls until Romano is forced to tilt his head up at an uncomfortable angle, the leather chaffing against his dry lips.

Italy starts to press more insistently into Romano, who almost sobs with relief. Italy was close. It was almost over. Trying not to gag from the riding crop in his mouth, Romano tries to clear his mind, ignoring his brother's harsh thrusts. Almost over. He holds onto the thought like a prayer.

Italy closes his eyes, focusing on how hot it is inside his brother, like a summer day. A bead of sweat tickles as it glides down his neck. He pulls back even harder on the riding crop. The pleasant pressure finally builds to a breaking point and with one final thrust sweet release is his. His hips rock against his brother a few final times before coming to a halt. Resting heavily against his brother, he lets the aftershocks travel through is body like electric waves that finally fade, courteous enough to leave a sense of fulfillment.

Mostly recovered, he gently tugs the riding crop from Romano's mouth. Italy pulls out and rolls his brother over so that he is lying on his back. Romano hisses sharply, sticky with semen and face shining with tears. "Big brother, I've made you so dirty. Does it make you feel disgusting?"

Romano doesn't look at him, just stares at an invisible point in the air. Italy glances down. "Oh, poor Romano, it seems you still have a problem."

Still no response. "Are you angry at me? I'm sorry. Even though you spoke back to me today that's alright. You were really fun so I'll help you finish."

Italy bends down and kisses the needful member softly. Romano shivers at the contact. "Don't-"

Italy looks up at him and smiles. "It's alright Romano. Just relax."

He kisses it again, gently running his tongue up and down it. Romano closes his eyes tightly. Even though his body is aching and sore from what his brother had just done to him, somehow it hurt most of all when he became gentle like this. He would prefer it if Italy simply left him to take care of it himself.

Italy comes up and begins to kiss Romano, his hand still teasing the cock. He whispers soft endearments in their native tongue against his lips. There is no harshness left. A cruelty of a different sort. The fingers that had been so uncaring before now trace his length with great care, dancing along the hot flesh. Romano wishes they would stop teasing him.

Even as his mind and spirit protest it, his body greedily gives in to Italy's sweet caresses and with relief comes into his brother's hand. Italy smiles and kisses him again. He brings the hand up, rubbing it in his brother's hair, making it dirtier.

Romano says in a flat, dead voice, "I hate you, Feliciano."

"Ve? I love you, Romano."

Italy sits up, looking down at his masterpiece. "I'm so proud of you, you didn't use the white flag today! I was really starting to worry about you, you know. You've been getting pretty thin. Tonight I'll make you something really tasty. Then afterwards I'll give you a bath. Oh I know, we can take one together! I'll be back in a few hours, alright? Bye bye Romano, it was so fun playing with you today."

Italy stands and begins to straighten out his clothes, walking away from Romano without a second glance back. Once he hears the sound of the door closing Romano rolls into a tight little ball and begins to sob.


Italy is fastening the strings of his apron when the phone rings. He hurries over and answers it, just barely remembering to put a quiver in his voice. "Ciao?"

Spain's voice comes through the line sounding thin and defeated. "I... I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No, of course not. I was just about to make some dinner. Even in stressful times like this we must remember to take care of ourselves. Have you been eating properly?"

A weak laugh responds. "I guess not. Lovino... He would probably be scolding me. I just can't... It hurts too much to eat right now."

Italy sits on the counter, his feet kicking back and forth. "Yes... I understand."

"I was..." A beat of hesitation. "Could you come over? It's hard to be alone."

Italy curls the phone chord around his finger. "Ve~ There is... something I have to do... But I can come later. Is that alright? I'm really sorry."

Spain is quick to be reassuring. "No, it's no problem. Please don't apologize... Yes, that would be fine. You can come over later."

"Okay, I will be there. Oh, do you think it would be alright if I have some of your tomatoes? I'd like to bring some home... He really loves them doesn't he? Romano I mean."

"Yes... Lovino really loves them," he says softly.

Italy smiles. "Would you mind if I had some?"

"Oh! No, not at all... Any little thing that helps you cope. How... how have you been doing that by the way? I've been having a hard time. My mind just gets away from me."

Italy has to concentrate on keeping the bubbly humor out of his voice. "I play games."


"Mm, games. Just... little games. You would be surprised how consuming they can be."

Spain's voice is thoughtful. "I see... Well, I'm sorry to tie you up. I will see you later. Hasta luego."

"Si, arrivederci Spain."

Italy hangs up the phone, grinning. Getting so close to admitting the truth was thrilling. He jumps from the counter. To make a proper meal would take a while so he had to hustle. He is so excited for his dinner and bath with Romano. He can't wait to see Spain either, to acquire some of his brother's beloved tomatoes. They would make good treats or rewards. The two of them would have so much fun...

And oh the games they would play.




Mi dispiace-I'm sorry

Oh Dio, Oh Dio, si prega di consegnare a me, si prega salvami, si prega di farlo smettere-

Oh God, Oh God, please deliver me, please save me, please make him (it) stop.

Hasta luego-See you later

AN: So I have no idea why Italy went crazy. Maybe he's channeling the worse part of Rome? -laughs- You may contemplate that yourself.