I do not own Hetalia, that privilege belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya-sensei. If I did, then it would be all yaoi all the time. :D

The Punishment Game

Alfred's POV

"Yes, thank you Sir for calling me. I am sorry this has become a habit. Yes just put his bill on my card." he nodded at the bartender as he lifted the unconscious Brit onto his back. Arthur's head lolled onto his neck and he had to hold his breath to keep from choking on the fumes of alcohol.

"Jeeze Artie, this is becoming pretty pathetic." he shook his head as he headed out of the bar and into the snow. With the chilling wind biting at him he wanted to pull his coat around himself tighter, but could not because England was now binding it to his back. He sighed and trudged the few feet to his car and gently laid the older country into the back seat. Before he shut the door, he turned Arthur onto his side, to be safe. Luckily the car was still warm, but feeling guilty looking down at the helpless man he took off his bomber jacket and draped it across the drunken country. He stood a moment longer when movement caught his attention and he saw Arthur snuggle into the jacket. He could not help but smile as he shut the door. He made his way to the driver's side, climbed in behind the wheel, turned on the car, and drove to his home.

Narrator's POV

This had become a routine between the two of them. Arthur would get depressed over something and become completely inebriated. The bartender, who by now had Alfred's cell number on speed dial, would call waking up the American. The first couple times, Alfred being the kindhearted soul that he is, let it slide. After that, when it seemed that England was going to continue, Alfred tried to distract the older country from such ideas. It worked for a little while, but it did not last. Shortly after that, Alfred began to get angry. He expressed his anger in various ways such as cutting the other man's credit cards, hiding his identification, he even went so far as to destroy all of Arthur's evening clothes; but he could not deter the drunk. With a heavy heart, America decided it was time for England to pay.

Arthur's POV

He slowly blinked open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the blindingly white walls. As he became more focused, He realized he was in a small white room with one lamp on the ceiling. The lamp seemed to sway back and forth slowly at its own rhythm. The next and more frightening thing he discovered was he was strapped to a table. His clothes he was wearing were nowhere to be seen and he lay nude on this table with nothing but a sheet covering his lower regions. His hands were strapped above his head together. His feet were strapped to the edge of the table in and inviting position which drew a humiliating blush to the now hung-over Brit.

"Bloody hell! Where am I?" he demanded, but no one was there to answer. In a fit of panic he jerked on the bindings over and over, but they did not release.

"What the hell! What the hell! What the hell!" he yelled at the door while jerking his arms and feet. The sheet that lay over his waist drifted lower on his hips; still he received no answer. He tried to calm down and deduce what had happened before he woke up here. His mind went blank. He had absolutely no idea what had happened. The last thing he remembered was going into the bar to have a few drinks. That was when he realized his next major issue; he had to go to the bathroom. He clenched up tightly.

"Let me out of here! I have to use the john!" He closed his eyes and tipped his head back trying to focus all of his energy to maintaining bladder control. Minuets passed like hours and hours passed like days. Tears began to form in his eyes. He was going to lose control and there was nothing he could do about it.

"You made it so simple Arthur." a robotic voice spoke from the intercom at the door. The voice caused him to jump.

"You used to be so great. And look at yourself now. Epic tales in history were written about you! Now you are nothing but a cowardly drunk. A drunk whom I might add, made it oh so very simple to be captured. Look at yourself Arthur." He began to sob at the voice. He was in pain, alone, cold, and ready to wet himself.

"Please" he cried.

"Please let me go." He tried to huddle in on himself, but could not.

"Please" he whimpered to the inanimate voice. He heard nothing but silence. Just as he was getting ready to give up, the voice spoke again.

"Let's call this a warning shall we? The robotic voice offered.

"We shall release you just this once. However, if we ever find you in such a state again, I assure you, you will not like what will be done to you." With that, his eyes grew wide in understanding and he nodded his head in agreement to the intercom.

The lights went out and the room was pitched black and he could not see anything at all. He began to get scared. He heard rather than saw a door open to his room. He felt a presence approach his side. He was getting ready to speak to the person when he heard a hissing sound followed by a sickly sweet odor. He felt himself drawn into sleep.

He woke up on the side of the road to the sound of a car approaching. He first noted he was wearing his clothing and coat. Even though the ground was covered in snow, it was not completely freezing out. The headlights blinded him temporally and came to a stop in front of him. The door flew open and Alfred jumped out.

Narrator's POV

"Arthur? Oh. My. God. What did they do to you?!" Alfred ran over to the weakened man lying beside the road. America quickly lifted England up and held him close.

"I received this call from your cell phone, but it was not you, and... God, Arthur what happen?" America carried England to the car. Alfred climbed into the back seat with Arthur and held the man to his chest rubbing reassuring circles on the Arthur's back. The older country was racked with sobs, but as he realized he was in the safety of his friend's embrace, he began to calm down. The Brit laid his head in the dip of Alfred's neck and tried to settle his shuddering breath.

"There there. It is over now. Shhh. It's ok now." Alfred pet Arthur gently. England slowly nodded his head and sat in silence.

"Let's go home now Artie" England nodded again. America slowly lowered the older country down onto the backseat. Alfred left the car and shut the backseat door behind him. America then paused a moment before heading to the driver side. A smile slowly formed on his face. He did not like the idea of scaring his dearest friend, but he prayed that this method would have the desired effect. But as much as it pained him, the idea of taking it to the next step was becoming appealing.

I have not decided if this should be an oneshot or a continuation. I guess it will depend on the response and feedback.

Blessed Be