Self Indulgence ((Countryhumans Oneshots))

(NSFW) Torture //USSR x Third Reich//

Soviet blinked awake. That was not a good sign. Whenever one blinks awake in a dark, empty room, finding his hands to be cuffed and pulled above his head by a rope attached to the ceiling, then there can be no good things to come afterward. Especially when he was conspicuously naked.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." Soviet sighed at the familiar voice that came from behind him, but as he was cuffed so that he was faced away from the door "You were trying to cross the border?" Reich chuckled, leaning back in the chair that he had set up behind his new prisoner. "Walked right into a German ambush."

"Not my fault, we were training a new cartographer."

"Excuses won't save you now. You're mine..."

Soviet barked with laughter. "Oh, what are you going to do? Nothing I haven't put myself through. I force my men to use every new torture technique they come up with on me first, so I know that no one can ever break me."

He tensed up his bare back so that Reich could see his muscles flexing beneath his layers of scars from belts, whips, knives, acid, fire, and everything in between. Soviet knew pain. It was a brother to him, and he would never be downed by any torture, even what this fascist could cook up "Oh, really? Every torture?"

"Every. Single. One." Soviet smirked to himself. Had he cried a lot over the process? Yes. Pissed his pants more than he cared to admit? Of course. But damn if it didn't sound cool when he said it out loud.

Soviet heard the distinctive click of a knife. "A butterfly knife? That takes time to master. Didn't take you for the type."

Soviet could hear the metal clinking against itself as Reich spun it around his fingers. Reich sounded like an expert in this craft. But Soviet had no fear of pain.

"I'm not, just a hobby I picked up. But that's hardly the most interesting thing I have with me."

"More knives? Child's play," Soviet snapped.

But then, he heard a very loud scrap of metal and Reich's grunting as he pulled such an object. He'd never encountered any sort of torture that required something that sounded so big! He tried to look over his shoulder, but his arms were straight above his head and he couldn't.

"This is an old model, still steam-powered. But it gets the job done..."

Soviet could tell Reich wanted him to ask what it was. But he wouldn't indulge the man. Not a bit. He didn't feel anything when Reich finished dragging it, he just heard a slight squirting noise and squelching. Then, without acknowledgment of any of this, Reich walked around to stand in front of the Russian. However, he could hear a slight hissing sound as the water began simmering in the engine of whatever machine Reich had brought over.

Soviet scowled at him, but he couldn't hide a slight flash of panic as Reich pulled out a gun. No amount of pain made him stop fearing death. No training could prevent him from bleeding out if he was shot.

Reich smiled up at Soviet. "You're so much more helpless than you realize."

Soviet gritted his teeth. He could hear gears beginning to grind behind him, but for what?

Reich pushed the gun up to Soviet's face. "All of that boasting, and I can scare you with something every man, woman, and child in Germany knows how to work. How pathetic."

Soviet was not one to be shamed, so he cast off his inhibitions. If he was to die here, it would have happened already, so he leaned forward and gently took the barrel of the gun in his mouth. Reich was stunned for a moment, so Soviet smirked and continued gently lapping at the cool metal of the handgun, even pressing the tip of his tongue into the gun's barrel. Finally, when he pulled away, there was saliva dripping from the gun, and Reich looked oddly flushed The hissing sound was getting more intense.