The Night of 200 Spanks [Belgium/Norway]
May. 18th, 2014 05:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: The Night of 200 Spanks
Characters/Pairing: Belgium/Norway
Rating: 18+ for erotic spanking and bondage and all that fun stuff.
Length: ~580
Summary: Belgium helps Norway ring in his 200th Constitution Day with some celebratory birthday smacks.
Other: Inspired by a couple of silly threads on the anonmeme. "If it's Norway's birthday, does he get birthday kisses or birthday spankings?" The answer here is both. I dunno about you, but 200 spanks sounds like a lot to me. Written and posted for APH rarepair week on tumblr. (Original post)
The Night of 200 Spanks
Forty-five.
Forty-six.
Forty-seven.
Norway closed his eyes and groaned softly, resisting the urge to rut against the mattress. Tied front-down to his bed while getting slapped on the ass wasn't how he had expected to spend the night, but damn if it wasn't something.
Another slap with the paddle. Forty-eight. Forty-nine.
Fifty.
"So," Belgium said, bending over him to whisper cheerfully by his ear. "Do you think you can handle another hundred and fifty more?"
Norway pulled in a shaky breath, biting at his lower lip. He could feel her breasts pressing against his back, smell the lingering hint of perfume at her throat. Her hair brushed against his cheek as she grazed a kiss over his jaw. As he tried to regain some semblance of composure, she slid a hand down his side and groped at his ass, and to that he was unable to respond with anything except a low moan into the mattress, half from the sting and half from arousal.
Belgium laughed. "That isn't an answer, you know." She took his earlobe between her teeth and tugged on it as she gave him a swat on the rear, making him gasp. "There's fifty-one. Now, tell me."
"An' if I can't?"
"Then you don't get your two hundred birthday kisses to go with your two hundred birthday spanks, of course."
It was bullshit and Norway knew it. The teasing way she said it was enough for him to be sure. If he gave word, she'd call it off. Untie him and turn him over and kiss him - among other things - until he was breathless.
But he'd liked the idea in the first place, and he wasn't going to take it back. Maybe he had something to prove. Maybe. As she slid her hand over his ass again Norway drew in another hot, shaking breath. Or maybe it was more than that. "Go on, then."
The next stinging smack sent his hips jerking against the bed, and as Norway moaned he could hear Belgium laughing. "Good! I knew you could do it!"
Somehow, he did it. Norway managed to get through all of it without telling her to stop. All fucking two hundred of it. And without coming, either - that, in fact, was the hardest part.
Belgium made good on her word. She untied him, humming lightly as she did, and no sooner had he turned over than she was on him, kissing him firmly, straddling him at the hips as she pressed him down.
Maybe there were two hundred kisses, but there were probably more. Neither of them bothered to count.
Norway didn't want to move the next morning.
When Belgium nudged at him, nosing him awake with a kiss to the cheek, he nuzzled back but didn't dare turn over onto his back to draw her close to him.
His ass hurt like the dickens.
"Would you like me to make you some coffee?" she murmured, giving his hair a gentle stroke.
Norway nodded. "Sounds good." He turned his head to look at her, and the 'thanks' stopped in his mouth. There was a smirk on her face, and he didn't doubt that she knew exactly why he didn't want to get up. "... Thanks."
Belgium gave him another kiss to the cheek for that, and thankfully she was merciful enough not to comment. It was clear that she knew what was going on.
He wouldn't be able to sit down for a week.
Characters/Pairing: Belgium/Norway
Rating: 18+ for erotic spanking and bondage and all that fun stuff.
Length: ~580
Summary: Belgium helps Norway ring in his 200th Constitution Day with some celebratory birthday smacks.
Other: Inspired by a couple of silly threads on the anonmeme. "If it's Norway's birthday, does he get birthday kisses or birthday spankings?" The answer here is both. I dunno about you, but 200 spanks sounds like a lot to me. Written and posted for APH rarepair week on tumblr. (Original post)
The Night of 200 Spanks
Forty-five.
Forty-six.
Forty-seven.
Norway closed his eyes and groaned softly, resisting the urge to rut against the mattress. Tied front-down to his bed while getting slapped on the ass wasn't how he had expected to spend the night, but damn if it wasn't something.
Another slap with the paddle. Forty-eight. Forty-nine.
Fifty.
"So," Belgium said, bending over him to whisper cheerfully by his ear. "Do you think you can handle another hundred and fifty more?"
Norway pulled in a shaky breath, biting at his lower lip. He could feel her breasts pressing against his back, smell the lingering hint of perfume at her throat. Her hair brushed against his cheek as she grazed a kiss over his jaw. As he tried to regain some semblance of composure, she slid a hand down his side and groped at his ass, and to that he was unable to respond with anything except a low moan into the mattress, half from the sting and half from arousal.
Belgium laughed. "That isn't an answer, you know." She took his earlobe between her teeth and tugged on it as she gave him a swat on the rear, making him gasp. "There's fifty-one. Now, tell me."
"An' if I can't?"
"Then you don't get your two hundred birthday kisses to go with your two hundred birthday spanks, of course."
It was bullshit and Norway knew it. The teasing way she said it was enough for him to be sure. If he gave word, she'd call it off. Untie him and turn him over and kiss him - among other things - until he was breathless.
But he'd liked the idea in the first place, and he wasn't going to take it back. Maybe he had something to prove. Maybe. As she slid her hand over his ass again Norway drew in another hot, shaking breath. Or maybe it was more than that. "Go on, then."
The next stinging smack sent his hips jerking against the bed, and as Norway moaned he could hear Belgium laughing. "Good! I knew you could do it!"
Somehow, he did it. Norway managed to get through all of it without telling her to stop. All fucking two hundred of it. And without coming, either - that, in fact, was the hardest part.
Belgium made good on her word. She untied him, humming lightly as she did, and no sooner had he turned over than she was on him, kissing him firmly, straddling him at the hips as she pressed him down.
Maybe there were two hundred kisses, but there were probably more. Neither of them bothered to count.
Norway didn't want to move the next morning.
When Belgium nudged at him, nosing him awake with a kiss to the cheek, he nuzzled back but didn't dare turn over onto his back to draw her close to him.
His ass hurt like the dickens.
"Would you like me to make you some coffee?" she murmured, giving his hair a gentle stroke.
Norway nodded. "Sounds good." He turned his head to look at her, and the 'thanks' stopped in his mouth. There was a smirk on her face, and he didn't doubt that she knew exactly why he didn't want to get up. "... Thanks."
Belgium gave him another kiss to the cheek for that, and thankfully she was merciful enough not to comment. It was clear that she knew what was going on.
He wouldn't be able to sit down for a week.
