Yup, I don't own Hetalia. Because if I did, there would be much more sex. X3


Confusion hit first.

Where am I?

Why can't I see anything? Why can't I move?

W-why's it so cold?

Fear slammed into him next, like a freight train going full speed across the endless plains: terror that he'd been tied up and tossed outside again in another of Russia's fits of madness, thrown out into the subzero temperatures of a Russian winter like a piece of refuse. Lithuania struggled against his bonds, tears streaming down his face as the fear continued to grow.

The rough rope only scraped his skin even more raw, the metallic scent of blood assaulting his nose. He had no idea how long he'd remained tied like this.

Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the one before it. He shook with the bitter cold, the tear tracks freezing on his cheeks. Lithuania's ears strained for any sound but that of his pounding heart, yet nothing came.

It was as if he'd been buried deep, deep within the snow.

Finally the faint creak of a door opening reached his ears, followed by the slow tread of feet on stairs. Soon he could make out the faint, faint glow of light illuminating an ancient set of stairs.

Stairs. Then I am inside, at least. Lithuania licked his lips, willing his voice into existence. "H-hello? Who's there?"

The feet paused in their decent and he heard a faint gasp. Suddenly they were scrambling, coming down the stairs as quickly as their owner could manage, and a small figure nearly fell over the last few, struggling to keep a small oil lamp from going out. "L-L-Lithuania? You're down here?"

"Latvia," the bound Nation sobbed in relief, straining towards his friend. "Latvia, help me!" Latvia was at his side in a moment, large eyes full of concern... and something else. "Lat, what's wrong?"

"H-he's coming!" The young teen whispered, eyes darting towards the stairs. "He's coming, Lithuania, I'm sorry! I... I'm so sorry!" A soft palm ran over Lithuania's cheek, comforting. "I didn't know you were down here, but he's right behind me-"

Creaking, ominous this time, the door at the top of the stairs opened once more. Latvia darted away, rushing to light other lamps scattered around the room as heavy boots slowly descended. As light filled the room (or at least as much as it was able from the ancient, flickering lamps), Lithuania realized with horror where he was.

The basement. Russia's basement.

"Latvia~!" An almost child-like voice sang out in Russian. "Did you light all of my lamps for me, my child?"

"Y-es, sir." Placing his own lamp in the last dark corner, Latvia dropped to his knees, his hands clenching in apprehension.

Terror settled in the pit of Lithuania's stomach like a ball of lead as the large, imposing figure stepped into the light. Russia. His captor, his tormentor, the very personification of his nightmares; he had the face of a child, but the twisted mind of a demon from the pit itself. Lithuania choked, renewing his attempts to break free. No! No no no no no! Oh please, God!

"Ah, you're awake, Lithuania? Good." Russia's face lit up in a smile, the edges of bright violet eyes crinkling. "I brought Latvia down to play with us today. Aren't you excited, Latvia?"

The younger Nation trembled, his head coming down in a short nod. "Yes, sir."

The room filled with the sounds of Russia's happy humming, an ancient tune that the other Nations were too young to know. Stripping off his long coat in spite of the frigid temperature , he carefully hung it on a hook in the corner. Next came the leather gloves, which he tucked into one of his coat pockets. The scarf he left on; an odd detail, to be sure, but Lithuania could never remember him without it. Turning back to the boys, Russia clapped his hands in glee. "Now! Let's get started, shall we?" His gaze turned to the teen kneeling on the floor. "Latvia! Come here, child. I have something I want you to do for me."

Latvia scrambled to obey, not wanting to upset his captor. Russia grabbed the boy and pulled him against his chest, large fingers carding through curly blonde hair. "Latvia," Russia whispered, "I need you to find me my knout. Do you remember where we left it last time we played?"

Lithuania watched his young friend's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, his eyes closing as he nodded. Avoiding Lithuania's gaze, Latvia fetched the whip from a hook on the wall, bringing it back to Russia and offering it to him as if it were a precious gift. The wicked whip gleamed in the lamplight, its long wooden handle well-used and polished, the many-tailed leather strips stained with blood and other fluids, proudly proclaiming itself to be one of the man's favorite 'toys'. "Hello, old friend. You are looking well." Russia gave it a testing swat against his palm, grinning at the sharp sound of leather on flesh; his cool violet gaze swept over his companions, the smile he still wore in no way reflected in his eyes. "We're going to have a lot of fun tonight, aren't we?"

Tucking the knout into the belt of his tunic, the giant of a Nation turned to inspect a series of ropes coiled on a worktable. His fingers traced lovingly over each one, finally settling on one and tossing it to Latvia. "You know what to do with this, right?"

"Yes, sir." Latvia's voice bled with misery as he brought the rope over to his friend, tying it securely over the bonds already encircling Lithuania's wrists.

"Lat? What are you doing, Lat?" Frightened, Lithuania tried to shy away from the other teen's hands, but Latvia had the rope tied with practiced ease in only moments.

Warm breath coasted over his cheek as Latvia removed the bindings that held him to the wall. "I'm sorry, Lithuania, I really am. I... I don't have a choice." Lips brushed against his. "Forgive me."

"You two are so sweet," Russia crooned, taking the free end of the rope that Latvia passed him and tossing it over a crossbeam. Yanking it with inhuman strength, the older Nation hoisted Lithuania up until his bare toes barely brushed the ground, ignoring the pained cries as his shoulders nearly dislocated. "It makes my heart swell with warmth." Securing the rope, Russia stepped back to inspect his handiwork. "Mm, yes, that will work, right, Latvia?"

"R-right, sir."

"Good." The knout returned to his hands, his fingers stroking over the wood like a cherished lover. Russia looked thoughtful for a moment, as if mentally debating his next step. Then snap, the whip lashed out, slicing through his victim's thin shirt and the skin beneath in one swift movement. Lithuania screamed.

"Ah, so beautiful," Russia sighed, his eyelids drooping in pleasure. "Do you know why we're playing a game, young one?"

He could feel the blood welling up on his back to start slowly dripping down, his flesh torn by the knout's cruel kiss. Lithuania shook his head, crying.

"I can't hear you~!" Snap!

The bound teen wailed, the hardened leather burning like stripes of fire down his back. The second strike left his shirt in tatters, hanging pitifully from his shoulders. "N-no!" There may not even be a reason, for all he knows; Russia's cracked mind could easily come up with some transgression to punish him with. He's done it before.

Russia sighed, grabbing a handful of Lithuania's silky hair and roughly pulling him back against the older man's firm body. "You were a very naughty boy, Lithuania. You left me and mine. " Sharp teeth nipped at the teen's earlobe, Russia's voice a husky purr as he spoke. "You left us for that crossdressing Polish whore. Did you let him touch you like I touched you?" His whip hand slipped around Lithuania's trembling form to rub circles over the teen's soft groin. "It saddens me to know that you spread your legs for him, that he got to play with your lovely body when I couldn't. But you're not going to do that again." Russia's hand squeezed painfully tight, earning him a whimper. "Oh no, you're not. I'll ruin you before I let that happen."

Arching, Lithuania struggled anew, all of his strength pooled into one last attempt to break free from his captor, from the horrors that his mind's eye painted of ways Russia could ruin him; but his ropes were tied too well, and the older Nation's strength was too great. "Oh please, please, p-please," the teen sobbed, the front of his pants darkening as he lost control of his bladder, "please don't, I won't do it again, I w-won't run, I'll stay here, I-"

"Shhhh," Russia murmured, "you won't do it again, I know. Don't cry, little one." With that, he released Lithuania, watching him swing for a moment before bringing his knout up once more. "It will be okay."

Snap.

Snap.

Each strike sent a world of pain crashing before his eyes. Lithuania could feel his flesh shredding under the leather, could feel the hot blood cascading down to soak into the back of his pants as his body swung from the crossbeam. He screamed, he cried, his voice cracking until there was nothing left. Blood splattered the flood at his feet, joining the puddle of urine still dripping down his pant legs.

And Russia laughed.

His voice, light and airy as a child's, rang through the ancient basement, reeking with a perverted pleasure in seeing his charge's suffering. Lithuania didn't have to look to know how Russia's eyes glowed with an insane light, how what little humanity remained was buried deep beneath the opaque veil of madness. He struck again and again, until blood dripped from his whip and stained the front of his tunic.

Finally he stopped, reaching out almost in wonder to slide a finger along the deep grooves cut in Lithuania's flesh. Consciousness wavering, the teen barely even responded. "Oh Latvia," Russia breathed, staring at the ruin of the younger nation's back, "look how beautiful this is." He licked a spot of blood from his lips with a heady sigh. "Do you see?"

Latvia twitched, hoping that he would manage to stay unnoticed throughout the rest of Russia's little 'game', but quick to respond nevertheless. "Yes, sir, I-I see. It is... beautiful."

He looked away as the older Nation pressed a palm to his own groin, lips parting in a pleasured sound. Those bloodstained fingers kneaded clothbound, hardening flesh, as if it were normal to become so aroused by something so wrong. "Untie the rope and let him down. I think he's had enough of a lesson for now." Nodding, Latvia's fingers deftly opened the simple knot, and the other teen slumped down in a broken pile of limbs, surrounded by his own fluids.

The cool stonework beneath Lithuania's cheek felt heavenly, a tiny pleasure in a universe of pain as he drifted in and out of awareness.

"Latvia," their captor purred, fingertips drawing teasing lines over the bulge of his groin. The younger Nation flushed, knowing what the order would be before it was even said. He dropped to his knees before Russia, whose fingers left his arousal to curl themselves back in Latvia's hair. The teen knew his part to play in this drama, and would gladly do it over and over again if only to avoid obtaining the starring role.

Leaning forward, Latvia nuzzled his cheek against Russia, mouthing along the hard ridge of his arousal as his hands sought the drawstrings to those tightly-drawn trousers. Loosening them with practiced ease, the teen tugged the dampened material down and out of the way. Russia's erection stood proudly from its nest of blonde curls, a beautiful sight to behold if it weren't under such horrific circumstances. Curling a hand around the base, Latvia swirled his tongue over the head before laving it down the sensitive underside.

This earned him a ragged moan. "That's a good boy," Russia whispered, his eyes never leaving the shaking, bleeding boy spread across his basement floor. His eyelids fluttered down until barely a sliver of violet was visible beneath. Tucking the knout back into his belt, Russia trailed his free hand up over his chest, fingertips rubbing lazily over the peaking nubs of his nipples through his soiled shirt while Latvia sucked him even deeper into the warm cavern of his mouth. The scent of blood and suffering invaded his senses, wrenching forth a gasp. "A-ah!"

Disgusted in himself, in the situation, in the insane Nation slowly fucking his mouth, Latvia relaxed his throat and swallowed Russia as deeply as he could, wanting nothing more than to get this over with as quickly as possible. The large man shuddered above him, succumbing to his ministrations for only a few moments before roughly jerking Latvia's mouth off of him.

Groaning, Russia finished himself off over Lithuania's torn back, ribbons of semen joining the blood in his wounds. The young Nation jerked pitifully, the liquid burning his open flesh.

Hand still wound in Latvia's hair, Russia pulls him to rest against his thigh as he sighs, sated. He blinks lazily, the queer gleam of madness still hovering around the edges of those amethyst orbs. "Latvia... ah, Latvia," the older Nation mumbles, his touch almost gentle. "Let this be a reminder for you to behave for me. You of all people know just how many toys I have to keep us occupied if you don't." Smiling widely at his terrified charge, Russia starts tucking himself back into place. "I think it's time for a drink after all of this work, child. Let's go upstairs where it's warm, and we'll worry about this mess later."

Unable to protest, the younger nation reluctantly follows Russia back upstairs, the image of his friend's quivering, broken body still laying on the floor burned into his mind.


Author's Notes
-The knout was a Russian whip with a wooden handle about a foot long, its thongs being plaited together to give a two-foot lash. At its end was fastened a further thong, eighteen inches in length, tapering to a point in hardened leather. Definitely serious business.
- After the partitions of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, Lithuania became Russia's subordinate. This fic occurs shortly after Russia takes him back 'under his wing'.