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Destroy my Spirit	By : 1stakugirl Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2260 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, the idea or the talent of the original Artist. I make no money from this and I only write for the enjoyment it gives me... And reviews of course~

Chapter List
- 1-Destroy my Spirit
- 2-Aftermath
- 1
- 2
America looked at the note and scowled, wondering why she was going to this meeting when she had just spent the last few days being yelled at. She was trying to withdraw damnit! Didn’t they remember how hard it was to end a war? It took a lot and everything she built and poured into that country was being damaged and destroyed and she was just so tired and she had to wear make up to hide how awful she felt and looked. It was hurtful that even England and France had missed how she felt, but they had problems of their own. Or something like that. They seemed to be talking about something together a lot. Probably criticizing her methods behind her back like all the rest.

She knocked on the door to the place she was supposed to meet the others, but to her annoyance, it was locked. She tried again and even tried to get the buzzer to announce her presence, but it seemed to be out of order. She tried the door and frowned. It was unlocked. Did they want her to just come in? She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, avoiding the stubborn cowlick as she tried to keep herself calm. She was the Hero, even if she was a girl, and she would tell them that she knows her solution won’t be an instant fix, but she’s sure that it’ll make things a lot better in the long run. Hopefully, they’ll be more inclined to listen.

Instead, her hand stilled on the door as she listened to the voices inside the sitting room of their host.

“ungrateful…”

“Stupid…”

“Vacuous…”

“Should teach her….”

“Punish…”

The words went on and on and she covered her mouth with a hand, staring at the doorknob with a horrified expression and tears gathering in her eyes. She recognized those voices. England… Big brother England was one of them… And uncle France… Russia… How could they side with that man? He had wanted to kill her and probably worse. And they were going to hurt her.

She backed away, not noticing the end-table until she bumped it, a muffled shriek of surprise escaping as she whirled to look at the priceless vase now laying in a mess of porcelain shards, glass and deep blood-red English Roses. She immediately dropped to her knees, hoping to rescue the red blooms. But a shadow loomed over her and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. A bearlike limb was wrapped around her, the scent of fresh snow and old blood assailed her and the second arm pressed her tight to the man’s body as she grew dizzy from not being able to breathe.

“Don’t kill her!”

“Don’t worry, is only to make her complacent~”

“Put her on the floor then. And make sure she is kept still until we have her restrained.”

Suddenly air rushed into her body and she glared up at them. She knew that the tears had streaked the makeup hiding how pale her skin had gotten from stress and being inside all day trying to keep things from falling apart, but also knew they wouldn’t care. They were planning on betraying her like she had feared. She hated the pain that sprang up in her chest and choked on a sob she tried to hide. She would not let them break her. She couldn’t.

“Whatever yer planning, it ain’t gonna work,” She hissed, kicking out with her long legs to keep them at bay. She could do nothing about the Russian behind her, but she was not about to let the others approach. Except…

Arthur did, capturing them and getting close enough to grab at her knee-length skirt and lift it up to her waist as she yelped and screeched in mortified protest. He raised an eyebrow at the boyshorts she wore underneath, no-doubt expecting a thong or a g-string or something like that. Just because she usually ran around in daisy-dukes and a tied button up under her coat, it didn’t mean she was a slut or a girl who only stuck to insta-wedgie underwear. At the least, she preferred bikini-bottom styles unless she seriously needed to avoid panty lines, but that was it! He shrugged and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a pocket knife that he used to cut it off, letting the fabric fall to the floor as she yelped out an even more horrified protest.

“So… Who should start this off?” he asked, turning to the rest as she continued to struggle. One of them handed him a roll of duct tape as they decided and he set to work with that stupid Ruskie’s help, binding her arms behind her back with her wrists pinned to the opposite elbow. They really didn’t want to risk her getting an arm free one bit. She could still kick out though, and she tried, but it seemed to just amuse him. She soon found out why when he grinned and forcibly tied her knees so that they were folded rather than free. Once he let go, she brought them up to hide her lower parts from view as best she could.

“You should go first,” was the consensus and his vicious grin grew wider as they warned him not to go easy. Her eyes were wide and frightened, but she tried to be brave. She was America. She could handle being captured by the enemy. This was just a mean prank. She struggled as he grabbed her short hair and forced open her jaw, ignoring her cries of pain and frantic struggles to extricate herself from his painful hold on her hair and the nail digging into the fragile flesh of the inside of her jaw.

She gagged as something was shoved into her mouth, choking as the offensive thing was shoved deep down her throat and blocked off her air. The hands holding her kept her from biting down, and after what felt like an eternity, it withdrew. She coughed and gasped, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.

“E-England…” she whispered, looking for any hesitance or regret or anything like when he had punished her as a child and colony. There was no love or caring. This was just pleasure in the suffering he was inflicting on her. She looked at the others and saw only wolves in the shape of her so-called friends and family, feeling like the sacrificial daughter in so many stories, but there was no loving prince to save her from these monsters. It seemed that Canada was the princess and she the unfortunate step-sister, “D-don’t do this…”

“Stooping to begging for a lesser punishment already, have we?” the green-eyes Brit mocked, locking his legs and leaning over his ex-colony. He shouldn’t have been surprised, she was always so wishy-washy even as a child. Honestly, he shouldn’t have expected a thing from a failure like her, “We haven’t even started yet. Belt up and take your punishment. It’ll be over with soon enough. I’ve got her Russia.”

The man withdrew from behind her as the brit drew closer. She drew her legs tighter around her nakedness as he gripped her knees and forced them open. She whimpered and turned her head away, cringing as she waited for the pain of being breeched. It didn’t take long at all and she dug her fingers into her arms as she screamed. It seemed to increase as he ripped the fragile barrier inside her and stilled. She felt him looking down at her, but refused to look as he furrowed his brows. He had expected this rebellious child of his to be a loose woman and he had taken her most precious thing from her. But that flash of guilt was quickly buried. He resumed his actions, listening to her scream as he began to speak.

“See what you have done?” he snarled in her ear as she cried out, ignoring the fact he was doing something considered heinous by human standards, “You see what you’ve led us to? Everyone can see the Great and Powerful United States writhe as I fuck you on the ground like a common prostitute. You’ve driven us to this and now you’ll see the trouble you’ve caused everyone with your stupidity.”

“P-please!” She wailed, tears flowing freely as she shook her head, “England! I’m trying! It’s not that easy to stop what happened!”

“Excuses!” he shouted even louder, pushing in even harder and ignoring the resulting screams. He ground up into her as deep as he could go when he came, making sure that he filled her with his semen before pulling out and uncapping a marker. He lifted her bangs and began writing, marking her even further as the single word was spelt out, “This is your punishment.”

“France. You’re up.”

“Of course,” came the cheerful reply as the Frenchman took the Brit’s place between her legs. He stroked the sensitive skin there before spreading her folds and forcing himself into her body despite her pleas for him to stop. He smirked and stroked the hairless skin of her body before looking her in the eyes, “I see you shave mon petite lapin.”

“Hey,” he said, turning to the Northern Italian as he continued to thrust erratically. She didn’t understand why, but supposed it was because it hurt more than just going in and out really fast like England had, “Italy, have her service you while I do this, I’m sure she’s good with her mouth, oui?”

“I-I’m sorry America,” he whispered softly as he opened his pants and held himself out. She looked at him with wide eyes, looking like a frightened kitten, and it was all he could do not to run from the room. He took a deep breath and tried not to think about how wrong this felt. But France and Germany and big brother were here. And even America’s caretaker had come. They couldn’t all be wrong could they? He tried to ignore the pang that told him that yes, this was wrong and he was wrong for going along with it, “Please do this for me…”

She lowered her eyes from his and opened her mouth, glad he was so gentle as he slid in. He was vocal in his pleasure, and it made her sad that such a nice guy was doing something as terrible as this. She choked when he was suddenly bumped and the second Italian appeared and demanded to join in, citing her love of eating and ability to eat more than was healthy to put inside her mouth. It hurt though, stretching her mouth wide and she couldn’t breathe as she was forced to tilt her head back while the three men used her for their pleasure. She heard them announce their ends, gagging as something nasty filled her mouth and she had to choke or swallow. She closed her eyes as more splashed out on her face and they left her lying on the floor.

She barely heard the voice of the next man as he lifted her up to turn her onto her chest and knees, propping her ass up while her favorite pair of glasses went flying. She hoped no one would break them and that someone would be nice enough to put them somewhere safe, but doubted it. None of them cared about her. Why would they care about her state?

“It is not over yet,” Her thoughts were interrupted when she realized he wasn’t using the same place the other two had used and began to struggle as he held her waist. The heavy German accent gave her newest violator away and she tried not to think of the things she heard about him even as he tore her open and took the last of her innocence away. Another man approached and she remembered the obnoxious laugh of one of the members of the Awesome three. One more betrayal wouldn’t kill her she supposed, a strange numbness falling over her emotions. Even though her body screamed and wailed in agony, her mild was in a blessed haze while the two brothers took her front and back.

“Hand me the clamps West,” the elder of the two commanded, opening her shirt and ripping the ribbon holding her bra’s cups together with a quick snap. He took them from the younger and attached them to her, grinning at her pained cries, “Vhat a slut. Her face is so red, jou could cook off of it. If only she vere a man, sen ve could fit her vis a ring and force her to be fucked before getting to come. As it is, jour punishment ends vhen all of us are done vis jou.”

She didn’t look at him as he spoke, though goosebumps raised at the thought of being aroused in any way by this sort of thing. It was painful and horrible and she just wanted it to end or just be a nightmare. Soon enough, the younger filled her with his fluids. The Elder followed not long after and she was allowed to collapse on the floor to wait for the next one to take her and use her till he was done.

“America-san,” the soft voice and gentle hands on her white-crusted cheeks made her look up into monochrome black eyes. Her friend Japan… He was one of them… She had already had her heart shattered, what was one more break in this sea of sorrow? She didn’t hear his next words, but she felt when he began to lick her face clean. She wrinkled her nose at his strange actions as he pulled her close to straddle his lap. But his actions were soothing in their own way and she began to relax. At least… until a second presence made itself known against her back.

“America,” came the sharper voice of China, as he forced her to lean forwards and kissed the raised ridge of her back. She felt Japan sliding into her body and tried not to show how much it hurt despite being smaller than the previous ones who had used it, “When ah you going to pay back yo’ debts? You owe Japan and I lots o’ money. We love you buy many things, but this recession is unacceptable.”

“Wai-China! N-no!” She whimpered, feeling him entering the hole Germany had used. She was ignored, like so many other times this short while that seemed an eternity in hell, and soon they were both deep inside her and worsening the bleeding tears created by the others. Crystalline tears fell from her eyes as she sobbed, pleading for it to end. Death would be a mercy after such torture, the two men ignoring rhythm as they moved at different paces. She wanted no more. She understood. This was too much. She didn’t want this. She wanted to hide away and never come out.

“At your limit, little bird?” a soft voice inquired, while a massive paw of a hand lifted her head gently to match her blue eyes up with soft violet. He looked so sympathetic, but it warped to a cruel little smile that hovered on the edges of his lips, only seen by one who knew him as well as she did, “I have waited so patiently… Just a little longer, da?”

“P-please… no… No more…” she begged, shaking and crying as he shifted so that her damp face was pressed against the bulge of his pants. Of course, he ignored her, telling her to get to work. She wanted to retreat into herself, but the pain and the horror of the situation kept her grounded in this horror movie. She refused to comply when he demanded she open her mouth, but when the two behind her suddenly moved in sync, she cried out and he took advantage and prised her jaw open. He warned her not to bite as he slowly filled her mouth. She was forced to obey, helpless as she was with her arms and legs tied and her friends here betraying her.

She never noticed the Frenchman taking pictures of her being forced to submit to the others, tears glittering on her face while she serviced Ivan. She never noticed the hushed conversation as Germany told him not to do it and the Southern Italian claimed it was fine so long as no one knew who she was doing it with. Not that it mattered. Everyone knew her loose reputation, though only one of the men here knew the truth of the matter and he would bring it with him to the grave.

“It is not often zhe great and powerful America is overpowered and made to feel humiliated. Make her look at me,” the Frenchman smirked, standing and heading back to the four. Russia stopped what he was doing and grabbed the hair on top of her head to force her to turn his way, “Do not boycott me again, oui? I could use such beautiful pictures against you. Shall I send one to your new boss?”

She looked away without saying a word, throat too sore to really speak. France growled and grabbed her face roughly, dragging it back to face him. Rebellion flared and she bit the soft flesh between his thumb and first finger, hard. He screeched and slapped her face hard enough that the imprint of his hand glowed a brilliant red even against her dark blush. She began to shake as he argued with one of the men still raping her, thinking about the hypocrisy. She dare not laugh, fearing that she wouldn’t be able to stop if she did. The large hand of the Russian gripped her jaw beneath her mouth, knowing that she was no threat to him.

“Was not nice, little one,” he said softly, making her return to what she had been doing before France had come over, “Such pretty mouth should not be used for biting. Should be used for giving pleasure.”

She felt him pat her head as she licked and slurped, but suddenly he gripped her hair tightly and forced her to take in everything, choking her and forcing her past her limit. She vaguely heard Japan say something to Russia as she struggled to pull back to breath and he let her, only to do it again and keep her there until the two filled her with their seed and pulled out. He pulled away and let her cough, grabbing her around the waist and shifting her to lift her up by her thighs. She felt the hard length and girth of him as it pressed against her womanhood and struggled, knowing he was going to hurt her worse than all the others.

“N-no! S-stop!” she cried out hoarsely, arching her back and screaming until her voice broke. He was too big for her small body, tearing it open in a long path as it filled every inch of her until he hit the end. He was not like the others, and his thrusts remained perfectly even as he held her in the air like she was nothing more than a doll. She fell limp, her voice weak and cracked as she continued to cry and scream at each rough thrust. She barely noticed when someone drew closer, but she managed a fragile glare even as she trembled with terror and weakness and humiliation, “S-stay Away!”

“I …” she glared up at the Brit a little harder as he drew closer, lifting her legs with enough force that the duct tape on one ripped, taking some skin with it in the process. Though the loss of some skin and the agony of using the muscles in that region were less painful than the forceful removal of her virginity and painful indoctrination into sex. And it was enough to see the astonishment on his face, despite the fact he caught her legs, “I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY!!!”

“Perhaps I should have brought the spreader bar,” he noted idly, staring at her thoughtfully like she were an interesting specimen in a jar rather than a living human being, “I’m honestly surprised you can still move your legs at this point.”

“G-go to hell!” She shrieked, agonized as Russia pushed a little further into her resisting body. The brit scowled at her before reaching between her legs and pinching something. She screamed in pain, writhing violently as she begged him to stop. Mercifully, he did, smirking as he did something that made her shudder and go limp as the first actual feeling of pleasure appeared after so long feeling pain. The Brit smirked, and pulled out the marker again, removing the clamps the Germans had put on her before writing on her chest. He could easily have put it on a flatter plane, but he didn’t want to. He smirked and looked at her red and tearstained cheeks, the makeup long worn away and revealing how dark the skin under her eyes had become and how pale the rest of the skin was to make the red pop so vibrantly.

“You want relief… I’ll give you some,” he smirked, putting the marker away as he reached between her open legs once more and touched that thing again. Her eyelids flickered as she tilted her head back, gasping quietly in pleasure until heat coiled deep inside her and suddenly he pulled away and it didn’t matter because all she could feel was pleasure even through the pain. Suddenly, her world went white as she convulsed in the heights of pleasure. He walked away, but Russia was still there when she came down from the high.

“You vere so tight, but now so loose.” He suddenly sank to the ground with her and gripped her forearms, holding her in place as he pulled out and slid into the other hole with a grunt of pleasure. He leaned over her, one arm holding her up while the other supported their combined weight, “I have not come, but I am last, so I vill remind you of all your faults. First, is zhat your capitalism brought us all down. Twice. You meddle in zhings zhat are no concern to you. You are a child. Annoying. Vapid. Stick things vere zhey do not belong. A waste of space. And… If you do somezhing stupid like zhis again…”

He thrust as deeply, and violently, as possible to hear her scream again before continuing.

“I vill rrrip you into pieces.”

He fell silent after that. It was several minutes later that he pulled out and slammed back into the first hole before releasing inside her. He pulled out, even as he was finishing, leaving the majority to spill out between her legs. He chuckled, commenting about a mess as he stood and tucked himself back inside his pants. He took out a knife and carefully cut the tape and smiled as she curled up into herself and cried quietly. He rather wished he could see America’s hurt and traumatized face, but this would have to do. And the memories he would bring with him of course. He left the American where she lay, leaving first since their little punishment for her was over. He knew the others would leave soon as well, so it would be up to her to get to wherever she was going to.

The others began taking their leave as well, uncaring except for one. Unfortunately, the Italian was rather helpless since he had followed the others’ leads and now felt… He had done wrong in the eyes of god. But he couldn’t see how the others were so unaffected. It was terrible.

The last to leave were, ironically, the two who had begun the torture. England and France stared at the American, unnerved by how still she was. She hadn’t stirred except for the faint shaking of her shoulders and along the line of her back as she cried silently. Not for the first time did they wonder if the punishment chosen was too harsh, but it didn’t matter. They had done it. And now… They would have to live with the decision.
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Destroy my Spirit