
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3260783.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hetalia:_Axis_Powers
  Character:
      England_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), India_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers)
  Additional Tags:
      Hetalia, Yaoi, [England/India], Rape, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Underage_-
      Freeform, England_-_Freeform, India
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-01-31 Words: 2201
****** A Completion To A Bad Day With Violent Sitting ******
by PeopleInThatBackRoom_(orphan_account)
Summary
     It was a long day for Britain.
     A very long, exhausting day.
     And, with that in mind, was it right for him, on his part, to assume
     that obedience and kindness would be given today by one of his
     current colonies? That a warm smile, along with a good meal would be
     waiting for him to keep him sane—if not that, then maybe a form of
     politeness and respect given?
     Apparently not.
     This was not a good day for Britain.
     Not a good day indeed.
     Though, it was to be an even worst day for his colony, India—who just
     so happened to push the wrong buttons at the wrong time.
     It was to be a bad day for both of them, then......
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
It was a long day for Britain. 
The constant demands for his presence all over this extremely hot country
didn't seem to cease that day, and the amatures (who didn't have a clue of what
they were to do) were not much help. Or any help, for that matter. Why the
motherland kept sending these 'inexperienced boys' to do a man's job, he didn't
know.
He also didn't know why he put up with it.
Or, he just didn't care anymore.  
Either way, he still had to deal this shite. 
And so, he took a deep breath, then reentered the chaotic country he lived in. 
Later in the day, however, when he arrived 'home', he very much expected a
different story than the one told throughout his day outside those walls.
Resistance, resistance, fees, accusings, stupidity—the list went on and on. He
wasn't over exaggerating, he really had to deal with this form of ignorance all
the time.
Was it right for him, on his part, to assume that obedience and kindness would
be given today by one of his current colonies? That a warm smile, along with a
good meal would be waiting for him to keep him sane—if not that, then maybe a
form of politeness and respect given? 
Apparently not.
This was not a good day for Britain. 
Not a good day, indeed. 
 When he arrived to his residence, he was immediately greeted by his
servants—of which, besides their value in hard-work, could matter less to the
Brit. The real contact he was waiting for lied with his colony, British East
India. A quiet, smart male, who looked to be about fifteen now. 
It was difficult talking to his colony nowadays, with revolutionary type
movements going on, but the two seemed to have conversations just fine most of
the time.
Key word: most. 
So, as the Brit spotted the Indian colony, he couldn't help but expect what
happened most of the time—no one could truly blame him.
Though, sheding light on the truth, one could only say—it didn't. 
"Hullo, India," the Brit greeted cheerfully. "I couldn't bring you back a gift
this time, but I did bring your favorite spices."
The Indian male didn't even look up at the Brit who had just entered the room
(closing the door behind himself), let alone responded to him. 
"India? Is something wrong?"
The colony did not answer. 
"India? Are you okay? Answer me." 
The Indian hissed something under his breath—something the Brit barely caught. 
Did he just say............
Yes, he did. He said it.
"No." 
He wasn't about to blow up yet. No, he wasn't. He'd give the colony another
try—but only one. After that........well, he hoped it didn't come to the after
that stage.
"India, are you alright? Did someone say something to you today?"
He replied this time—still in his own language. But he replied.  And Britain
understood his exact words:
"British devil. Go back to where you came from. 
Why that little-
Self-control. Calm down, Arthur. This is a colony you're dealing with. Nothing
to get overly upset at. Let's be patient and try this once more. 
He sighed inwardly. 
He would—he would try once more.
Only once more. He meant it this time. 
"India?"
He answered again in his native tongue. "Die." 
And with that........the acid-green eyed nation lost it. 
Screw his morals. Screw patience. Screw every single damned thing that was
rational.
His colony was not about to disobey him.
Not in a million years.
"Are you threatening me?" he questioned, using his colony's language.
"Go back to the filth you were born from." was the sharp reply—and that put the
Brit on edge. 
"So, you're going to stay defiant and rude, huh? I've always had ways of fixing
those who act in that manner," still the black haired male did not look up.
"Just remember you've brought this upon yourself."
India did. He really did, and was ready for anything the British tyrant
unleashed. Whether being whipped, stripped of possessions or seeing people die
—it couldn't be much worst than what he saw everyday. 
Than what he felt, every single day. 
But, as his eyes roamed around the room and his body tensed at the silence, he
couldn't help thinking, there was some punishment that he wasn't prepared for.
That there was something the British bastard could do to him, that would make
him crumble. 
No! Positive thoughts! Positive thoughts! 
His eyes continued their roaming, but.......something was missing.
Someone. 
Wait? What happened to the pig in the first place?
He felt himself being lifted off the ground, and place on to a.......chair? No.
This was much more softer than a chair, so......
It must be his lap!
The Indian male squirmed to get away, but rough, strong hands held him down.
No! This is disgraceful! No! 
Hot breath was on the back of his head, while a cold, wet tongue messed with
his ear, teasing it with long, hard licks. 
"No," finally his voice broke through an invisible barrer and it protested
fervently. "Not that! Don't do that! Stop —I'm not a woman!"
The Brit laughed. "And? This act feels good for men, too —you can trust me on
that."
"No! Let go!"
"No. You need to be punished. And if losing your innocence is what it's going
to take, so be it," with his lips almost touching the younger man's ear, he
said: "Besides, you could have apologized long before we got to this point." 
"N-no!" though, even with that objection, there was nothing he could do. He was
going to be punished. 
He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard his clothes being ripped apart and off of
him (trying not to think of how happy he was when his people had worked
together to make him such a beautiful garment, that was now broken, in pieces
on the floor). 
He felt cold and exposed now, especially under the British tyrant's piercing
gaze, and wished the hands holding him down would vanish, so he could escape,
but no matter how long the thought replayed itself in his head, he knew it
would never come true. 
"Gy-ahhh...." he gasped as the seductive tongue that had touched his ear now
violated his body licking, sucking and biting every piece of flesh the tyrant
could reach while still holding the Indian man on his lap. 
The horrid hands that had been holding him down joined into the 'fun' as well,
and roamed all over the younger male's body, flicking and pinching wherever
they went, growing even more excited went more noises came out their victim's
mouth. 
That's when, it happened.
"Hehehe," the Brit reached over to touch the swollen appendage. "Look who's
excited."
"N-no! N-no!" but even as he denied such a thing, there stood, tall and proud,
his erection, leaking out precum for all to see.
This wasn't possible. The British pig was a man. He was a man. This was wrong.
So very wrong. Men didn't do this to men. They did do this to women and
children—which he did not exactly agree with either—but not to other men. It
wasn't suppose to be this way. His body was not suppose to enjoy this—this sick
perversity. 
Here it was, though, sexually awoken, and willing to submit to pleasure.  
He cursed his body for it, but there was no way he would've apologized for what
he did. He would not pretend just for that pig. Never!
His mind and heart were in agreement.
So what happened to his body?
"H-hahhh..." he gasped as the hand on his erection stroked it firmly,
occasionally touching his 'sack of jewels' (that now felt just as sensitive as
the rest of his body).
And with the continued attention given to his body, it practically submitted to
the touches and silently screamed, 'more! more!', much to its owner's
displeasure. 
"What do you want?"
The Indian squirmed around, trying to get the Brit to touch him more, to no
avail. 
"Tell me."
He still said nothing, and felt frustrated now that he wasn't receiving his
stimulation he wanted. Why? Why did the bastard stop? Why did the bastard act
so cruel?
And why was he still enjoying this?
"Y-yes......." the black haired colony moaned as the Brit teased him slightly,
still giving him very little satisfaction in the current situation.
The Brit, on the other hand, smirked as he heard the younger man express the
pleasure he was receiving rather openly. Though it wasn't enough. He had to
make his dear colony crumble. "Say it, India. Beg me."
This went against everything his people had shown him. This went against his
identity. And  yet.....
"P-please...! I want...... I want it,"  —he needed it. Badly. "P-please! Give
me release!"
And the Brit chuckled lightly at the poor boy. He had no idea what exactly was
going to come next, and yet, the tanned male still put his trust in the idea
that he was going to finish jacking him off. 
He was. 
Just not yet, however. 
He had managed (by this point in time) to get his erect appendage out his
pants, and  remembering this to be a punishment, he didn't prepare his colony
for any such invasion, but instead, forcefully began to push himself in the
virgin male, evoking screams and struggles from the younger man, which were
silenced and held-down by the dirty-blonde haired man as he continued to ram
himself in the tight entrance of the colony, only taking the appendage out to
repeat the action. 
He's inside my...........inside my........inside my arse.
"Bloody h-hell! S-so t-ti-tight....!" the British man moaned hapily. He hadn't
felt this good for  a while. His colony would just have to bear with it—he
couldn't stop now.
"O-oh! So good, boy...! S-so good, boy! So, tight.....mmhh, a-ahhhh....."
Inside me....
The Indian man had ceased his screams and struggles by this point, reducing
such things into quiet sobbing—and even with his sobbing, he was beginning to
quit the act of doing so as well.  For, it's not like he would be rescued, or
anything of that sort. 
It hurts. It stings. And I feel blood pouring down my thighs, onto both of us. 
"Y-yes! Yes, boy! Y-you feel so g-good!" 
Yet he enjoys it.
And I.........
A sensation hit the tanned male as a certain spot inside his anus was pounded
into. It felt slightly pleasurable—but slightly couldn't compete with the agony
he was feeling as the older man continued to abuse him. 
I only wonder......
The stench of his blood was all over the two, along with sweat, and other
strong fluids. Surprisingly, the odors did not smother them harshly, but rather
blended in with what they were familiar with. 
Why.....? 
For the Brit, it didn't matter—he had reached orgasm, shooting his load into
the abused anus of his colony. 
I could have stopped this whole thing?
With this out the way, he debated on whether or not he believed the Indian male
had learned his lesson. He believed he did, and for that, he would show the
younger male 'mercy'.
I didn't.
"G-good boy," the acid-green eyed nation said. "You did terribly well receving
your punishment—so, here's your reward."
I only-
He never finished the thought. For a wave of pleasure washed over him as it
once did, now that the Brit was stroking him off again.
"A-ahhh........h-hahhh...u-ughhh......"
"You're close now." the Brit observed, before giving the Indian male his
release with one last firm stroke. 
A (surprisingly) nice feeling came over him as his seed came out, landing on
him, the Brit and the floor. He felt exhausted and yet relaxed at the same
time. So, relaxed, he didn't stop the nation from wrapping his arms around him.
Nor did he stop the gentle kiss that was placed on his forehead, or lash out at
the quiet apologizes said by the British man. What was the point of doing so?
It wouldn't help him in any way whatsoever. He knew that rather well now. 
The older nation kissed his forehead. "Y-yes........g-good boy."
They sat there for only a little longer, until the supposed spell casted upon
them was broken and the two got up 'cleaned' and bathed.  
They ate their dinner later-on, with neither speaking a word of what had taken
place earlier. 
And life went on—as if that never happened, actually. Things were pretty much
normal in their lives. 
Well, that is, until India managed to put the nation on edge again. Acting much
worst this time. 
"You do know I'll have too punish you."
Of course, I know.......
"Yes."
I want you to. 
"Well then, come here. Or will I need to go over there, hmm?"
I hate myself for it.
A few moments later, and the Brit slightly frowned at the reluctance. "My
patience is running low. Hurry up and come over here." 
I hate that I want you to.
"Yes—good boy." the nation said as his colony began to comply.
But, I want you to. I truly do. 
 
End Notes
     This actually started off as a happy fic, but as I got to working on
     it, the fic's genre changed drastically.
     I don't support rape or abuse in any way—this is just a fanfic that
     came out of my creepy weird mind.
     Still, if you made it this far, I can only ask if you guys would
     review, for writers and artists LOVE FEEDBACK.
     We really do.
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