Notes, READ THEM YOU GUYS: This fic is for wt-chan! She wanted to see virgin!England. With kinky/ sexually experienced!America. Not sure if this is AU (nothing else is different) but those are the versions of them in this fic.

Got that? This is kinky/ sexually experienced!America/ virgin!England. Just wanted that to be clear because it's a little different than usual. There's also mentions of America/ various others. (He really gets around in this fic!)

Another warning: includes sexual harassment and molestation. Also lots of kinky things mentioned, including sounding. So if that's not your thing I don't recommend reading.

Also this fic got long as hell so I'm breaking it in half. This is the first half. I'll post the second half very soon!

America's POV!

X

Once upon a time, I went to England. Both the country and the dude. I didn't tell him I was coming, I just kinda did.

It all started when I heard they were gonna ban sugary drinks in New York City if they were over 32 oz. It's like, dude. I need all 32 oz. of Mountain Dew with my large butter popcorn at the movies, especially if it's to see the cool new Hunger Games movie because that movie kicks major ass. I love Peeta! He's my favorite character. (Not to be confused with PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, who hand out 'Unhappy Meals' at McDonald's to make people feel bad.) (Get it? UNhappy? I guess it's clever, I'll give them that one. Still gonna eat my burgers though.)

WTF was I talking about? Oh, yes. I had to DO THE DEW! And sure, this proposed ban on large sodas and whatnot was only for NYC, so theoretically I could have gone anywhere to escape it. Even other places in my own country. And guzzle down as much Pepsi or Coke or Sprite or Sunny D as I wanted. But, ya know. I didn't.

Look, I don't need to explain myself to you. If I wanted to visit England, I'm gonna visit England, all right? Get off my case. You don't gotta be all suspicious. I'm not playing you. I don't have my iPhone password locked because I'm hiding something. I just don't want people to go through it. That a crime? Give me some space, jeez.

So I went to the place that never has to deal with tracking or breaking into people's phones – England. (Rupert Murdoch knows what's I'm talking about … WINK WINK.) Except when I went to his house, he wasn't there!

I kept ringing the doorbell and knocking and shoving random crap like sticks and rocks through his mail slot, and yet he didn't come to the door.

"I guess he's not home," I said as I tried jamming a lawn gnome through the mail hole. It didn't work. LOL that was probably England's best friend or something. You know how he is with his … special friends, pfft.

But then suddenly the door actually did open. "Looking for England, sir?"

"What the—" It wasn't England at all. It was England's little Mini-Me, Sealand. In his little sailor outfit, haha. Innit that cute."Yeah, where is he?"

"He's out riding," replied Sealand. That got my attention. Riding what? (HURR HURR.) "He should be back very soon. Would you like a spot of tea whilst you wait for him?"

"Uh, no. I don't wait for people. You better bring him to me."

"I don't know if I can. But I can bring you to the stable where he should be returning soon!"

"Augh, fine."

So we walked to England's stable a short distance away.

"Please don't tell that jerk England you saw me, sir," said Sealand as we walked. "I actually snuck into his house whilst he was out, for mischiefing."

"Mischiefing, huh? What kind of mischiefing are you doing in his house?"

"Hehe … well, don't tell him, but I know he has this secret stash of books in his bedroom," said Sea-Sea. "That's what I'm gonna do now. He refuses to let me see them, so I'm sneaking in today to see what they are!"

"HAHAHAHA!" I LOL'd. "Oh lawd, that is hilarious. You're probably too young for that stuff, but this is too funny to stop."

Sea-Sea frowned. "Oh? Why is that?"

"Haha … oh, no reason. Just know that if his stuff is pre-80's, the razor has come a long way since then!"

Sea-Sea was like :I

Finally, we got to the stable. "You can wait here for him," said Sealand as he opened the door for me. "I'm going to hurry back and see if I find the books before he returns. Cheerio!"

"Rice Krispies!" I called back to him as he happily scampered off.

I entered the stable. Which was really just a small barn. Full of typical barny, horsey things like hay and some riding equipment and a salt lick. There was only one stall for a horse, and it was empty. Above it read in fancy cursive letters: BUTTERSCOTCH. LOL, really? England named his horse Butterscotch? Haha, oh, wow.

As I looked around, I realized that I didn't even know England had a horse. I mean, I knew he had them when I was younger. Everybody did. That's how we got around back then, before they invented cars and trains and Segways. But post-industrial age? I assumed we all stopped owning them. Weird …

I remember when I was younger, I had a horse. He had a fiery red coat with a black mane and tail and we had cool adventures together and he always made smart ass comments to me. Ahh, nostalgia. Oh wait crap, that was Pokey from Gumby. LOL never mind.

I looked out the window and into the wide, green pasture or whatever it was I was looking at. Rolling hills of grass. SIGH. I hate waiting for things. Waiting blows hard. Except for that movie called "Waiting" that was actually pretty good. But real waiting sucks.

Just then, as I was sighing annoyedly, I caught a glimpse of something in the distance. A flash of motion. I adjusted my glasses and looked closer. Because what I saw didn't make a lick of sense.

Picture this: England, hunched over, floating mid-air, holding his arms out like he was grabbing something tightly, and moving his hips up and down. Want me to repeat that? FLOATING MID-AIR. (Also wanted to repeat moving his hips up and down because that looked pretty naughty, hehe.)

"THE FUDGE? !" I exclaimed, tearing myself from the window in shock. There was no way I just saw that. People don't float mid-air. And they certainly don't awkwardly hump the air while up in it. It made no sense! Not according to science! Isaac Newton would shit himself if he saw that. Shit out every apple he ever ate!

I was scared at first. The image really frightened me. I panicked and wanted nothing more than to go find a store and buy 32 oz. of Dr. Pepper to calm me down. The Dr. always knows what's best. But as I kept thinking about this image, as it sank in, my mind slowly wrapped around it … I realized something.

It was pretty freakin' hot.

I mean, think about it. Him moving his hips up and down so quickly like that. Like a piston! He must have some pretty intense muscles to do that. I bet his leg muscles … 'specially them thighs, them inner thighs, are all taut and hard and smooth. That's pretty hot. I always knew he was a wiry kinda guy, but who knew he was toned like that? Could you imagine what you could do with muscles like that?

Because I am. Unnf. Getting turned on just thinking about it! What's that called when you do that movement on a horse … posting? God, if you're good at posting, you know you're good at sex. A good horse rider means a good … well, rider. On your penis. He's got the muscles, he's got the movement … now all he needs is to hurry and get back here so he can hop on and prove me right ;)

Ooh, I was getting so excited! As soon as England returned, I was gonna lay on the charm thick. Really flirt with him. I know he'll probably bitch about something because what else is new with him. But he wouldn't take long too long to crack. A little smooth talking and we'd be rolling around in that bale of hay in no time.

As I glanced around the barn, I found something interesting. Amongst the tack and saddles and other horsetacular things, I found a riding crop. Hells yeah. Riding crops are kinky as fuck. I started imaging this. Pulling England down into a pile of hay with me. He sits on top of me, impales himself on me, moaning, and rides me like he rides a horse. And I sit back and enjoy that ride, smacking his ass with the riding crop and yelling things at him like "Faster!" and "Harder!" and "NEEEIGH!" (That's the sound a horse makes. Thanks The Farmer Says spin and play toy!

Oh fuck. I started to pop a boner just thinking about all that! England better get his Brit butt back in this stable quick. My cock ain't gonna ride itself.

Then I was wondering something. Had I ever banged England before? I couldn't remember at first! I thought I did, but then I was like, no wait. That was Australia that day after losing Wimbledon. We had the lights off and their accents sound the same to me, LOL. Mmm, strawberries and cream.

No wait … what about that time in the submarine hunting down the Loch Ness Monster's babies for a new show on Animal Planet. That was him, right? No, crap. That was his brother, Scotland. And we never did find Nessie's babies. I don't think they ever actually existed. Damn Planned Parenthood, encouraging cryptozoologic birth control.

No, I had to have done England at least once! There's no way I didn't! I mean, I get around. I've been with near about everyone. You don't run the world, have military bases and embassies in almost every country, and have a hand in how other countries run themselves without sharing a few beds with them, am I right? If you're thinking I'm a playa right now, well stop hatin'. Or hate the game, not the playa.

I had to have done him at some point. Hmm. Oh yeah! After I helped him with that forest fire or whatever at Chernobyl. That was some GOOD glow-in-the-dark sex! Everything glowed in the dark back then. He sure did have a nice rack too! Wait, crap. I'm mixing up UK and Ukraine. I have one crap memory.

Could I really have missed England somehow? And never once boned him? I couldn't believe it. But as I thought about it, I realized it was true. Somehow he'd slipped between the cracks and we'd never once done it.

Well, that was about to change. This was way overdue. I'm about half hard and ready for it, he ain't bad looking, and I found his riding crop. This was gonna happen. And it was gonna be kiiiiinky.

I couldn't wait to smack his ass with that thing! ;)

Maybe leave marks. Welts even. Mark him as mine. Even though I'm sure he gets around a lot too. I mean, he's got those dirty mags in his bedroom. And I'm sure he ain't just reading them for the articles. He's gotta be kinky as fuck, just like me.

"America?" I heard a Britishy voice say. "What are you doing here?"

I was facing the other way. Holding the riding crop in my hand, running my fingers over the leather. Then my eyes widened.

"England, you're back!" I exclaimed as I turned around to face him. Then I toned it down, because I remembered I was gonna try to seduce him, hehe. "Have a nice ride?" I asked in a somewhat deeper tone.

England walked with his hand out behind him. "Oh, yes. Quite lovely. First day in a week it hasn't rained." He walked up to the stall. "Butterscotch here hates getting wet, don't you, girl?"

"Mmm, I love getting it wet, it's – WAIT WHAT? !" Sexy charmer to WTF in 2.5 seconds! "Why are you talking to and petting the AIR? !"

He was definitely petting the air. Just patting away like something was there. "Not air – Butterscotch. My beautiful unicorn."

Oh lawd. Not this crap again! England's a nutball!

He stopped petting and opened the stall door. "There you go, girl. Back in your stall. I've laid out fresh hay for you." He moved his hand like he was leading a horse by the halter.

"England, YOU CRAZY!" I exclaimed. "There's nothing there! And I know you're faking it because I don't even see a halter. I should at least see like one of them invisible dog collars but I don't see nothing. You mean to tell me THAT'S invisible too? You're so full of crap."

"You just can't see her because you're impure," said England as he closed the stall door.

"Fuck you, I'm not impure."

I know because I got tested, you guys. Everything came back negative, phew. Learn your lesson from me, boys and girls. Use a rubber every time! Because that waiting room wait to hear a certain bit of news is not very fun. Especially since I hate waiting.

"You are, but there's neither here or there," said England, dusting off his hands. "What is here or there is why you are here."

"Instead of there?" I dropped back down to my sexy voice for this next part, "Obviously I had to see you in your cute little riding outfit."

England was dressed in full on … well, dressage. He had on breeches that really fit pretty tight. You could see his leg muscles through them. And I bet his ass too, if he'd do me the pleasure of turning around. He also wore a dressage coat, one of them real fancy ones, with white gloves and tall black leather boots.

It looked pretty damn good on him.

"Cute?" scoffed England. "I'll have you know this is proper English dressage. I'll wear nothing less whilst upon the back of such a magnificent creature such as Butterscotch."

"Yeah, cute chaps," I replied, stepping closer to him. Awkwardly close. "Kinda tight though, don'tcha think?"

England gave me a confused look. He took a step back, but hit the stall door when he did. So he was cornered. "This is how they are supposed to fit."

"Heh." I lowered my eyelids about halfway. "Looks good on ya. You can see your muscles. I bet they're real hard from riding, huh?"

England looked weirded out by my husky voice. What, was he not using to being hit on like this? Because it's not like I was doing this wrong. I'm an expert charmer ;)

"Want me to massage them for you?" I asked, putting an arm above him on the stall door for leverage and leaning into him.

England's eyes widened as my other arm wandered south. My hand cupped his inner thigh. And started slowly stroking up and down.

I felt England tense. Big time. His muscles there were already tight, but he clenched even more when I touched him.

"The hell are you doing?" he asked as he flinched, back pushing against the door.

"How's it feel?" My hand kept going. Smoothing up and down along those hard, tight inner thigh muscles. "You like it?"

England was still clenching himself. Pressed hard against the door. "N-not particularly."

I pulled away for a moment. But only to grab something. "Look what I found~" I said singsong as I resumed my position. Looming over England, pinning him to the stall door.

"My riding crop?" asked England, puzzled about it.

I twirled it in my fingers. "What do you have this for, hmm?"

"I don't use it," England replied bluntly. "I originally bought it in case I needed it for discipline, but Butterscotch has never disobeyed me – so it just sits here in the barn."

I leaned even closer. So that our faces were almost touching. "What a shame."

Then, with my lowered arm, I smacked him hard with the crop on the side of his hip.

"H-hey!" he yelped, flinching again. "That hurt, idiot!"

I moved my hand and immediately started rubbing the spot I'd smacked. "Aww, I'm sorry, babe."

"Babe?"

"But you need a little discipline."

"Eh?"

SMACK!

Right on the side of his hip again.

This time, he shoved me off of him. "Fucking tosser!" he swore. "Quit hitting me! I don't know what's come over you, but it's— oof!—"

England's back forcefully hit the stall door. Because I pinned him up against it. "Mmm, yeah I like it rough like that."

"Get off of me—"

"Ai'ight."

With a whirl, I grabbed him and spun him. Before he knew what was happening, I'd pulled him down into that big pile of hay with me. I lay back in it, and pulled him into my lap.

"What are you doing? !" he bitched.

I made him sit on my lap.

"What do you wanna do?" I asked in my bedroom voice, giving him that look. One hand slid up and groped his ass.

"H-Hey!" England glanced back at my hand feeling him up. "This is rather improper!"

With my other hand, I smacked him on the ass with the riding crop. It made a fairly audible smacking sound, louder than his hip. "Do you wanna be disciplined again~?"

England looked panicked. "What the hell is wrong with you? !"

Hmm. This wasn't going the way I'd hoped. By now I was hoping England would be all over me. Letting me run my hands over his tight riding muscles, begging for me to hit him more because he's a bad boy and deserves it, and awkwardly trying to shimmy out of his tight riding breeches. Then he'd eagerly hop on my cock because I was all the way there then, NEGL. Full on erection. He'd climb on and lower himself down. And happily ride me, using those strong leg muscles of his, until we were both screaming and whinnying like horses from awesome orgasms.

But that's not what was happening. Instead, England was flipping out at my advances. It appeared I'd really rustled his jimmies. That's not how seduction is supposed to go :/

"Come on, England," I said sexfully. I pulled at his little riding shirt, trying to untuck it from his pants. "Let's get this off and lemme see some skin …"

England quickly grabbed his shirt and tucked it back in. "Absolutely not!"

"Aww," I pouted. "What's a quickie in the barn? It'll be fun."

"I can't believe you!"

My hand returned to his inner thigh. Rubbing at those tight muscles. God, I knew just from feeling it how perfect he'd be at riding. He'd be able to ride me all night long without even getting sore and tired. Not that I could go that long without popping, but that's still pretty hot.

"Come on, hop on," I said. "Ride me. Ride me like your unicorn!"

England looked … horrified. "Bloody hell? !"

"Get them breeches off and climb on …" I thrust my hips up once. Grinding my erection against his clothed ass. "I'm ready for ya."

England was actually trembling. "I … I can't –"

I waved the riding crop in his face. "Don't make me use this again, hehe!"

That made England freeze up. His trembling stopped and he just sat there, looking either confused or frightened or something out of his mind. But it wasn't until my hand slid under the top of his breeches, roaming down and groping at bare ass skin, that he flipped the fuck out.

He suddenly jumped off of me, his eyes wide enough to match his huge brows. "I'm not doing this!" he shouted.

"Aww," I pouted, still sitting in the hay. "Why not?"

England was jamming for the door. "Not like this!" he called to me as he bolted out of the stable.

And ran and ran and ran. He was long gone. Hella fast.

Well damn. I struck out :(

Guess I'd just have to take care of it myself. Good thing unicorns don't really exist. Or that would have been super awkward as I jerked off in that pile of hay right in front of 'Butterscotch's' stall.

X

It really bummed me out that I got rejected. I'm not really used to that. Usually when I hit on someone, they're putty in my hands, and then their ass is in my hands. Well, okay, I strike out sometimes. Sometimes I get a slap to the face or a drink thrown on me or a kick to the nuggets. But all and all, my batting average is pretty good.

The more I thought on this, the more frustrated it made me. Sexually frustrated. And jacking off wasn't cutting it. I needed some real ass. So I went down to a local British pub to try my luck there.

It wasn't hard at all. I easily took two British girls back to a hotel with me. And had lots of sexy times with them. Both of them at the same time. Seriously … I didn't even put in that much effort. Those British girls were easy. So why wasn't England?

I pondered this as I lay back in the hotel bed, one girl on each side of me. They each smoked their post-sex cigarettes, and I sucked on a post-sex 32 oz. Fanta.

"You must really be a fan of this country," said one of the girls, taking a drag. "To scream out 'England!' when you came."

"Uh … yeeeah," I replied. "I love y'all's … umm … culture and big clock and stuff." Nice save, huh?

I got outta there pretty quick the next morning. I had only one thing on my mind. Before I left for my own soda-Nazi country I had one goal to accomplish: I was gonna bang England.

I just hooked up with two of his women. So I knew it could be done. Clearly my game was fine. This must be England's issue … right?

Hmm. He'd told me the reason he didn't want to do it was that he didn't want to do it … 'this way.' So obviously I wasn't doing it that way he liked. I guess that riding crop just wasn't doing it for him.

And that's when it dawned on me … England must be super kinky.

I mean, he's apparently got all those dirty magazines in his bedroom! I'm sure they're full of things so graphic and scandalous it'd make even France blush like a little Catholic schoolgirl. LOL picture that. Him being embarrassed and tittering nervously in a plaid schoolgirl skirt and going like "SACRE BLEU!" Hehe, that's a funny mental image.

Clearly England needed some hardcore stuff to get off. I was gonna really have to step up my game if I was gonna get his motor running. It needed to be like VROOOM VROOOOMMMM!

If I was gonna do it the way England liked, I needed to go shopping. So I stopped at a local adult novelty store. Full of kinds of vibrators and dildos and anal beads and baking molds to make cakes shaped like penises. I went ahead and got one of the penis-shaped cake molds. Canada's birthday is coming up and nothing says happy birthday like a big ol' edible penis! I'll make it chocolate because if his awkwardness around Cuba is anything to go by he likes the dark meat on occasion, hehe.

But of course, the real reason I was there was to stock up on items to seduce England. I bought all kinds of things. A regular whip wouldn't do. No, I learned that from striking out with the riding crop. I needed something even kinkier: a cat o' nine tails. That's different from the Pokemon Ninetales. It's a like a bunch of whips all in one. Well, like nine in one. So that when I hit him with it, it's more painful than just the one. It's super kinky ;)

I also bought a paddle. Friggin' rip-off because I could have just popped off to Wal*mart and gotten one much cheaper made for ping pong, but whatever. I didn't have time for that. And I wanted to paddle England's ass. And I'm sure he'd want it too. He'd bend over for me, begging for it, pleading for me to strike him with it on the ass. And I so would. I'd paddle him like it was an event at the Olympics. (Well, it is, but not with asses.) (Though that would be cool!)

I gots lots of other goodies too. It'd be worth it if that's what it took to get England in bed with me. I got some rope - so much rope you could hang yourself with it. Not that I would, because then I wouldn't get laid. I also got handcuffs. And not the fuzzy kind, that's for pussies. And England must be hardcore. I got the real kind that'll probably leave marks. And I also got a blindfold, because I dunno, it was pretty cheap compared to the rest of that stuff. Seriously. Who knew getting kinky was so expensive!

I had enough BDSM stuff to put that 50 Shades of Grey book to shame. This was gonna be hella kinky.

But there was one more thing I wanted to get. Because I wanted this to be perfect. So good there was no way it wouldn't be the way England liked, and I would definitely not get rejected again. But I needed some supplies and I'd already left the store.

In fact, I was camping out in front of England's house. On his front lawn.

"What are you doing out here?" asked England, walking up to me.

"England," I said in my determined voice. "I need some wood."

THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID LOLOLOLOLOL

"And a hammer," I said. "And some nails. And other woodworking equipment."

England gave me a weird look. "What for?"

"Carpentry," I said as if it was obvious because it was, duh! "What, you dissing carpentry? Because Jesus was a carpenter so if you gotta problem with it you can just ask yourself WWJD. Because he would do carpentry."

"But what are you building?"

"It's a secret!" I said. "Hey, by the way, can I crash at your place? I don't really feel like paying for another hotel room."

England rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just do try to behave yourself."

"Cool beans."

He huffed and walked away. Good. He was none the wiser to my plan! To build a Saint Andrew's Cross! :D

What's that, you wonder? Well, if you wonder, you are clearly not as kinky as England. But don't worry, I'll explain it for you sheltered boys and girls. A Saint Andrew's Cross is like a big X. A person is bound to the X, with their arms and legs restrained on it. So their arms are up and their legs spread-eagle.

Imagine England on that thing. Bound and spreading himself for me. His ass vulnerable, turning red in stripes as I strike him over and over with the cat o' nine tails and he's moaning for me to just put it in him already but no not yet I wanna tease him just a little longer and hear his desperate voice because that is really turning me on—

The hell was I talking about. Oh yeah. Building that cross. Jesus would be proud!

Or … just kidding. Because after I got all my supplies and tried to build it, I had more trouble than I thought I would. I was out in England's yard for hours trying to put together that damn thing! It was sooooo hard! Why couldn't they make an easy to put together version of a Saint Andrew's Cross? Like an IKEA version? I shall have to speak to Sweden about this.

I sighed, squatting on the grass beside a sawhorse I hadn't even gotten to use yet. I was leaning over my design plans, trying to figure out what the hell I had written. Why did I write this in crayon …

I don't know why I was having so much trouble. I used to be great at woodworking! I used to do it all the time! But I guess I've gotten lazy in the modern years. I'm not as good with my hands as I used to be. (At least not with wood, because I'm good with my hands for other things, HURR HURR.) (I meant actual wood wood, not boner wood.) (Because the joke was that I am good with my hands for naughty things. I apologize if my jokes are too advanced for you.)

As I sat in the grass looking over my plans, I heard a soft thump beside me. I looked over and saw that my two bags from the adult novelty store were sitting on the grass next to me.

I looked back and England was standing behind me. He'd tossed them there.

"You left those on the kitchen table."

I glanced at them but didn't move. I wonder if he looked inside …

"I won't stand for any overnight guests," England said. "Whatever plans you have, you can take them elsewhere. But not in my house."

"I'm not planning on bringing over any guests," I replied.

"Then why did you buy all those …" England stopped himself. "No, I don't even want to know."

I think part of the reason I was having so much trouble building the cross was I kept getting distracted by my own thoughts. My own naughty thoughts, hehe. I kept daydreaming and fantasizing about what it'd be like to use it. Picturing England strapped up to that thing, and all the things I'd do to him. Now with him standing beside me, it was even worse. I was picturing him naked, imagining me bending him over the sawhorse, smacking his ass right before shoving myself inside –

"You should come inside," said England. "It's starting to get dark."

I suppose he was right. Sharp tools and the dark don't mix too well. But you know what does go well with the dark …

I glanced over and saw the paddle I'd bought, poking out from one of the bags.

"I saved you some leftovers from dinner," England said, starting to turn around to head back to the house. "I don't want to hear any jokes about my cooking either. You've run out of actually funny ones."

I grabbed the paddle. "Hey, England! Wait!"

He stopped and faced me. "What is it?"

I stood up. "Don't you wanna take a guess at what I'm building?"

England did not look amused. "You said it was a secret."

"Well … yeeeeeah," I said, being all coy. "But that doesn't mean you can't take a guess."

"I don't really care." He was eyeing the paddle in my hand.

I tapped the paddle against my hand. "It's for you."

"Me?" asked England all surprised. "What the hell do I need … that … for?" He pointed to what I had built so far. Which was just two pieces of wood nailed to each other. I told you I hadn't made much progress …

I tapped the paddle on my hand again, this time harder. All menacingly, hehe. "Take a guess."

"I'm not in the mood for games."

What are you in the mood for, England? A SPANKIN'? I knew you'd like to play hard to get … I bet this is why it took me so long to finally bang you. But that's okey. I like a challenge …

"You should guess," I said, stepping closer. "DO IT."

England sighed. "Fine! Is it … I don't know, it must be something stupid … a doghouse for your pet whale?"

"Um, that would be a whalehouse, wouldn't it? Duh, England." I suddenly scooped up England with just one arm, throwing him over my shoulder. I did it all nonchalantly like a badass. "And Whaley already has a whalehouse."

"THE FUCK? !" exclaimed England, squirming. "Put me down! What the hell is wrong with you? !"

I tossed him on the sawhorse. "You're a bad guesser."

I'd thrown England face first into the sawhorse. So that his upper half was on top of it, but he still stood on his legs, leaning over it. I came up behind him and pressed my chest into his back so that he couldn't move away.

Okay, screw the Saint Andrew's cross. Let's get real for a minute. I'm pretty sure I was never gonna finish that thing. But I got two whole bags of kinky crap, England bent over the sawhorse, and me pinning him down from behind with a paddle in one hand. I think this'll work ;)

"Christ, you're heavy!" bitched England beneath me. "Get off me!"

My paddle-free hand traced down England's side. Down the side of his chest, his hips, his ass. Smoothing down his sexy sweater vest ... why does that sweater vest turn me on …

My hand groped hard at his ass. Such tight, toned muscles, unf …

"Did you look in my bags, England?" I asked as I felt him up.

England was squirming underneath me, but it did no good. "Get your hand off my arse!"

I didn't. "Answer me."

"W-w-what do you think? ! Why else would I tell you not to bring over anyone for one of your liaisons? I — FUCK!"

As England was bitching, I'd pulled away my hand. So I could smack him on the ass with the paddle with the other. It was just like SMACK right on that muscle! It made quite a sound, hehe.

England startled when I did it. Again. SMACK!

"Stop hitting me with that damn thing!"

SMACK!

I hit his ass with the paddle for a third time.

I hoped this was kinky enough for England. We know how he is. A total pervert. Last time I wasn't kinky enough for him and I got rejected. But who could resist being paddled? Well, maybe a normal person. But we all know England is definitely not a normal person, hehe.

"SOMEBODY'S GETTIN' A SPANKIN'!" I said.

England tried in vain to push me off again. But I was way too heavy. I was pinning him down and there was nothing he could do about it! "Stop!" he shouted.

So I did stop. But only so I could reach around and undo his pants.

Things were about to get a little heavier ;)

"America, this is sexual harassment!" bitched England. Damn was he bad at dirty talk. He's supposed to be saying stuff like 'ohhh Americaaa! I'm such a bad boy! Punish me, OHHHHH!" all moaning and begging for it. And then I'd hit him and he'd be like 'Ohhh yes! Hit me again! I've been so naughty!" and I'd be like 'ai'ight' and paddle his ass again. What was I talking about …

Oh yeah. I was pulling down England's pants.

I slid them and his underwear down, where they caught around his knees. Meh, good enough. So then his ass was bare. I immediately got to gropin', because now I could feel it without those meddling pants in the way. I cupped that tight, hard muscle. All tensed up for some reason. Smooth and taut and I just grabbed myself a big ol' handful of it –

Suddenly, England took a swing at me. He tried to hit me in the face, but he missed.

"WHOA!" I exclaimed. "Almost got me, haha! You naughty boy~"

"FUCKING GET OFF ME!"

England sure does play hard to get! But if this is what gets his rocks off …

"You need to be punished," I said, playing along.

So I hit him again with the paddle. This time on bare skin. Ass skin. There was a loud slap of that ass skin as I whacked him with it.

"Damn!" shouted England.

I glanced down to where I'd struck. There was a red spot in the shape of the paddle on his ass. Unf that was hot …

So I hit it again.

England flinched under me, all his muscles tightening as I struck. This time he didn't say anything. He only made a grunting noise.

His ass was really red then. I think a welt was starting to form, but I'm not a doctor like Dr. Pepper so I can't be sure.

I leaned harder into him. So close my lips were in his ear.

"Is this doing it for you, England?" I whispered. "Is this what gets you hot?"

"What—"

"I know you like it kinky." My hand rubbed the red spot on his ass where I'd paddled him. The skin there felt really warm. "Am I doing it the way you like this time?"

"You are most certainly not."

FFFFFFF—

And here I thought I was doing a pretty good job! I spanked him good! Who wouldn't wanna get a good spankin' from me? With a paddle no less? This should have been hitting all his buttons. He should be loving this. I gave it my best! What was I doing wrong? :(

"Well, I got two whole bags full of goodies," I said. "What do you like? You're gonna have to give me a hint. You want me to flog you with a cat o' nine tails?"

"The hell? !"

"No? Well, I could tie you up, blindfold you—"

"Jesus Christ!" England was trembling pretty hard.

"Damn, you're hard to please! Nothing but the kinkiest for you, huh? Guess we'll just have to wait until I finish this Saint Andrew's cross. If I can—"

When I said 'Saint Andrew's cross,' England flipped out. He finally squirmed from underneath me and flipped around. And kneed me right in the balls.

"FFFffffffffff …" I hissed in pain, dropping to the ground.

England quickly jumped away. "You are so perverted!"

"My ballssssssss …" I moaned, now lying on my side on the ground, holding my crushed nards.

"You stay far away from my house!" said England as he bolted. "You're not allowed to stay here anymore! Go get a hotel for all your perversions!"

That's all I could hear, because by then he was too far away. He bolted so fast. He got back to his house and slammed the door shut.

Well, fuck. I struck out again. And got kneed right in the stones. This was no good. Especially since I was hard and he kinda got my dick too when he hit me so yeah that was painful!

Was that how England rolled? He likes that rough? What was that called again … cock and ball torture? That's his thing? Goddamn. I'm kinky, but I'm not that kinky. Even I'm not at that level. I saw all kinds of stuff for that like ball stretchers and cock straps and rings at the novelty store but skipped by it. I figured even that was too much for England.

But apparently not. Apparently if you wanna get in England's pants, you gotta go to the big leagues. Looks like I got some research to do.

To Wikipedia!

X

I derped around on Wikipedia for a little bit, but gave up kinda fast. It's not really the best go-to place for learning about paraphilia. (That's the scientific word for kinky shit. I did learn that on Wikipedia.) Wikipedia is almost all text and no pictures. Who wants to read that? If I wanted that I would have gone down to the libary and gotten a chapter book. No thanks. Books are for nerds.

Instead of doing research the hard way, I figured it was much easier to just ask someone else. It's quicker and you know how I hate waiting! Even on myself.

I asked Germany first. I heard he's into some hardcore pr0n. Like … really hardcore. The stuff normal people skip over when they go a-fappin' on youporn or redtube. He goes straight past the normal stuff to the crazy sections!

But when I asked him about it over the phone, he started stuttering and stammering and crap.

"W-w-who said I look at pornography?" he asked all defensively.

"Italy," I replied. "He said you're into some hardcore stuff. Some of it apparently involves dogs?"

"Scheisse," he muttered.

"I'm not looking to involve any animals, but what other kinky crap do you know about? Like … the craziest things you can think of. I mean the wildest, kinkiest, balls-to-the-wall freaky shit."

"H-h-how should I know? !"

Denial. Pssh. Ain't just a river in Ethiopia. Or Egypt. One of the two. What am I, Google Maps? Hey did you know there's a country in Africa called Djibouti? That's pronounced like DJBOOTY? That has nothing to do with anything, I just think it's lulzy.

"Look, don't even deny it," I told him. "Oh, by the way, with that stuff with the dogs … who … who tops? The dogs, right? Because otherwise that's animal cruelty and you better watch out or Sarah McLaughlin is gonna come over there and sing a sad song showing the hurt dogs and asking people to donate to save them and you're gonna be in big trouble with—"

Click.

Damn Kraut hung up on me! GRRRR! So rude. People these days, am I right?

So next I tried asking Japan. I heard he's into some kinky shit. I mean, we've all heard of the hentai with the tentacle porn and the schoolgirls who get raped with the tentacles that you might have borrowed one time but never got around to giving it back because you just know they know what you did even if you got it all in the tissue of course so it now it just sits under your bed in a shoebox labeled Christmas Decorations but you know they're not really Christmas decorations you just wrote that in case a friend or your alien stumbles across it and you don't want them to find it. Well, I mean, that's the stereotype anyway.

Japan told me about this crazy stuff called guro and vore. I'd never even heard of it! At first I was like, sweet. Something to try! Like when Ben & Jerry's come out with a new ice cream flavor and it's something crazy that you think sounds gross like Vanilla Bean Ice Cream with a Salty Caramel Swirl & Fudge Covered Potato Chip Clusters (real flavor!) but of course it tastes good. I got the same feeling when Japan told me those words!

Then he told me what they were :/

"You know …" I said to him. "I think if I ate England or chopped his limbs off … he probably won't wanna have sex with me. He'll probably wanna go to the hospital."

"I see," replied Japan. "I was lost in the fantasy and forgot that it does not apply to real rife situations."

"Not unless you're Hannibal Lector …" I mumbled. "Or that other guy from the movie who killed the women to skin them to make a suit out of their skin. Aw man. That is such a good movie."

"Ah, I just thought of one of my country's paraphilias that can be applied real situations," said Japan. Whoo. I knew a big word he said :D Thanks Wikipedia! "It is called omorashi … which in your language would be panty wetting or bladder desperation."

"Eew."

"It is a fetish in my country."

"What isn't a fetish in your country?"

Japan hesitated.

"Haha, never mind," I said. "Pissing your pants, huh? I'm pretty kinky but somehow that doesn't do it for me. I haven't peed myself since eighth grade and I don't plan on starting to any time soon, thank you very much."

"D-did you say eighth grade?"

"What am I gonna doooo?" I whined, intentionally not answering his question. "I'm out-kinked here! I just wanna know what England likes so I can GET IN THEM PANTS!"

"Perhaps you should talk to France."

"Hmm … yeah! He's probably nailed England before AND he's a total pervert! I'm sure he can think of some pretty hardcore stuff. Not like your gross pants-wetting."

"America, prease. I didn't even bring up coprophilia—"

Click. Okay, that was my time to be rude. Because I learned that word on Wikipedia too and BLEEECCCHHH!

So then I gave Francey Pants a call. He gave me the normal French 'tude at first, but as soon I started talking about sex, his tone changed dramatically.

"Ahh, you have called ze right person," said France. "But let me get zis straight … you want to know zis … for England?"

"Yeah, England," I said. "I'm trying to bang him."

"And you are sure he is into le kinky things?"

"Oh yeah, dude. That's apparently the only stuff that gets him off."

"My goodness," said France. "And here I thought he was … how you say … untouched territory? Permanently solitary in ze le bed? A very lonely island, hmm?"

"LONELY ISLAND? !" I exclaimed. "I love that band."

"I think I know what you should try," said France. "Since you are looking for ze very kinky and you said you think he is into cock and ball torture … I suggest le sounding."

"WHOA SOUNDING? !" I exclaimed. I was very exclaimy that day. "That is hella kinky."

"Oui~ … but zat is what you wanted, no?"

"Yeah, it's just … damn. That's even a little too much for me."

"It's not worth it if it allows you to strip England of his sweater vest and tweed pants and have your way with him?"

UNFFF. What is it about that sweater vest that turns me ON? !

"Okay, okay," I sighed. "Yes, it's worth it. I'll do it if it means getting laid."

"I expect a full report! Call me first thing in the morning after and share every last detail~"

"Dude, I don't kiss and tell. I also don't sound and tell."

"But you simply mussssst!"

Click. LOL, I'm such a hypocrite. Hanging up on people. But whatever. They actually deserved it!

Besides, I had shit to do. Moar supplies to get. I needed to get a sound. Back to the adult novelty store!

If you're wondering what sounding is, CALM DOWN. Gosh. I'm gonna tell you. So just simmer down and listen. It's where you take something long, thin, and rod-shaped … and jam it up your peehole.

I know what you're thinking. ZOMGWTFBBQ. I know. It's pretty nuts. And while you'd think shoving something up into your penis would hurt, it supposedly feels really, really good. I say supposedly because I've never done it myself. I mean, I've seen it in porn once or twice, but I've never gone through with it. I mean, not that I failed at it. I mean, not that I even tried in the first place. I mean, not like I saw a gel pen (remember them things? They were cool in the 90's!) and wondered if it would fit like in that video I saw. Fun Fact: you need lube to do this. I learned that from … the porn. Yeah.

So I was off to buy a real sound. Only a legit one would do for England! Wouldn't want him to have to make do with a gel pen and have the tip of his penis colored blue for days like m – the guy in the porn.

X

So I went out and bought a sound. It's called a Dittle. LOL isn't that a lulzy name? I love it. DITTLES … TASTE THE RAINBOW. Actually, it sounds like a word a kid would use for masturbation, like "Hey Pee Wee Herman diddled himself at the movies!" (y'all remember that? Good thing in wasn't in Chairry! Chairry would have been scarred for life.) Not that kids should know what masturbation is to begin with, but whatever.

Anyway, I totally got ripped off. Nearly fifty bucks for a tiny metal rod? REALLY? I mean, I could have just gotten a thermometer for like eight bucks at Wal*mart. A lot of people use those for sounds because they're cheap and easy to get. But they're glass and if they break … yeeeeah. A broken off piece of glass in your penis would be hellacious. I don't think England would put out then, LOL. Also thought about just going to like Home Depot and picking up a big long nail, then rounding off the sharp part. But nooooo only the best for England! I couldn't leave any room for screwing this up.

I also picked up some lube. As much as I could. Made me wonder. New York's possible ban on liquids over 32 oz. wouldn't apply to lube, right? RIGHT? I mean, I know 32 oz. is a LOT but come on. I wanna have that option open. And sometimes … you just gotta have a lot of lube. I can't be assed to buy two 16 oz. bottles of lube just like I can't be assed to buy two 16 oz. cups of soda. Like I want two separate containers. Bloomberg, please.

Shortly after I bought the sound, England called me. He told me to come move all the shit I'd left out in his yard. Which was great, because I needed an excuse to come back over to his house anyway. That worked out. Because I didn't wanna wait because I told you I hate waiting! Though I have already established that.

So I headed right over there. I gathered up all the wood and crap I'd left out and tossed it into his neighbor's yard. There. Somebody else's problem now! I whistled casually as I walked away. Doo doo doo …

Then I knocked on England's door.

He didn't look happy at all when he answered it. "Oh – it's you. Did you move all your shit?"

"Yes."

"Good." England started to close the door, but I stopped him with my foot. "Hey, move it."

"Wait! I wanted to tell you something."

England sighed but reopened the door. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to apologize for yesterday …" I said, looking away. "I thought you'd like it, because I know now I was wrong."

"You were wrong," he snapped.

"Yeah, I didn't realize it wasn't your thing. My bad."

"Well …" God England looked so uncomfortable. "Now you know."

"Yeah. And now that I do know what your real deal is, can I stay tonight?"

"Wha – no! Not after what you did!"

"Pleeeeeease?" I begged. "I don't have hotel room and I don't feel like finding one it'd be so much easier to just spend the night here please please please?"

"No."

I just stood there, wiggling my eyebrows. Like come onnn … come onnnn … let meeee …

Seconds went by. England standing there awkwardly and me just wagging my eyebrows suggestively. It went on so long it started to get awkward. And my eyebrow muscles were starting to get sore. I should do eyebrow exercises more often. I'm sure England knows what I'm talking about. I bet he had to do a lot to support his Wooly Willy-inspired brows, LOL.

Finally, England sighed and threw his hands up. "Fine! You can stay the night."

"Yaaaaay!"

"Just absolutely do not try anything like yesterday."

He opened the door for me. "Of course not," I replied slyly. I know that's not kinky enough for you. You're in for a treat tonight. You're gonna get it good, you limey little slut … I bet you'll be moaning as soon as I jam that Dittle into your hole … you're gonna love your cock stuffed because you're kinky like that, so kinky you put even me to shame, but I'll be enjoying the show, hell I'll probably pop just watching you scream in pleasure as I fill your cock up with that long metal—

"I'm watching Dr. Who," said England, interrupting my fantasy. "Don't interrupt me."

" … oh."

England spent the whole evening watching a Dr. Who marathon. He sat on the couch, eyes flicking back and forth between the screen and his knitting. He was knitting a scarf like the one in Harry Potter. LOL Hufflepuff pattern? Who the hell wants a Hufflepuff scarf?

As I watched, sitting in a nearby chair, I couldn't help but think … damn. I really did get ripped off. Those knitting needles would have made a perfect sounding device! They'd fit right up into a cock hole! And I'm sure they're much cheaper.

"Should have gone to Michael's …" I muttered to myself.

"Who is Michael?" asked England.

I tried to figure out if I detected any jealously. But England is very hard to read. "Uh – nobody. It's a craft store."

"Oh." England looked back down to his knitting. Damn. Still couldn't tell if he was jelly or not.

More time went by, more episodes went by. England apparently had a DVD box set or something. I hate waiting but a couple hours for sex would be worth it.

It was past midnight before he finally cut the show off. He'd just finished his last night-night cup of tea.

"It's getting late," he said, stretching. "We should go to bed."

"Hehe, yeah," I said slyly. Playing coy. Oh England. An invitation to bed … oh I know you want this. You want me to get this right. Even though I didn't do what you liked the first two times, you still have faith in me. And you are right to. Because I am gonna give you the sexual thrill of your life …

I had it all worked out. Sounding is an art. There's a particular way you do it, and it makes the difference between a lot of pain and possibly even internal damage … and mind-blowing, room shaking orgasms. Well, that's what I've heard anyway.

I also heard how to do it the right way. You actually don't need to do too much work. At least, not too much movement. A little is the perfect amount. So here's what I was gonna do. First, I was gonna stick the sound in England's cock. Duh. Stuff his cock full. As far I as can. You can actually hit the prostate this way. That's a fun fact you won't find on a Snapple cap. Anyway, then I will hold it straight out, because the metal sounds are hella heavy and if you drop it you can break someone's penis in half! Yikers. So I don't wanna do that. (Unless England's into that.) (God I hope England's not into that.)

Then, while holding the sound, I'm gonna hit it with something metal. Like a spoon or something, haven't figured that out yet. So it's metal hitting metal and it makes that CLAAAANG! noise. And reverberates. Like vibrates. And the metal vibrations are gonna go down the sound and into his penis. And he is gonna cry out and moan and cum everywhere like "OHHHHH AMERICA THAT FEELS SO BLOODY GOOD HNGGGGGGH!" and spluurrrt!

Hehe, yeah.

OR! I also had another plan. If he can stand this much movement. I was gonna take one of the little vibrators I picked up from the adult store (yeah I got one of them too. Don't tell Obama where all this money is going. We'll blame the economy. Yeeeah. The economy.) So I'd take the vibrator, and take his cock, stuffed with the metal sound. Then I'd hold the vibrator up against the sound. And the vibrations from the toy would be sent down the metal to his cock, vibrating from the inside out. And he'll moan my name for sure for that one. If he can form actual words. Might just be some mindless screaming. And then he'll blow his load all over the sound and it will be beautiful.

Yep. That was my plan. See now why it was worth waiting for? ;)

X

To be continued! The second half will be posted soon.