Black mailed and fucked. Soviet x America

Chapter three

They walked through the vast corridors of the skyscraper, the halls were quiet and dimly lit, the air was tense and charged with tension.
Soviet could feel his heart hammering in his chest as they got closer to the destination. He had a bad feeling about this.

Third guided Soviet up multiple flights of stairs and down corridor after corridor until they finally came to a pair of large black doors. Third pressed a button and the doors opened with a whoosh, revealing a large office room. There was screens on all one side of the room... like a security room. There was a window that was covered by a black curtain, there was barely any light in the room... and in-front of the cameras was a turning chair kinda like one in a office and it wasn't facing them.

Soviet eyed the room with a mixture of confusion and dread. The screens, the darkness, the curtain... This place was like something out of a villain's lair.

Soviet's heart thumped loudly in his chest. He knew who was sitting in that chair.

Third pushed Soviet forward, making him stumble slightly before he caught his balance.

Soviet gritted his teeth and stayed quiet. He could hear the sound of the chair slowly turning around, and then there was a familiar voice.

"Well well, look what the cat dragged in~" the voice of America's voice was cold and mocking. He got up from his chair, facing Soviet, a sickly sweet smile on his face.

"It's been a while, hasn't it... dear~"

America was wearing a black suit, black sneakers and black pants, his long white hair was down and his sunglasses were still on, his white fangs were shimmering slightly in the dim light and black gloves. On the armrest of the chair was a large bald eagle with a collar around its neck and America was petting its head.

Soviet felt a wave of rage wash over him as he saw America standing there in his fancy suit, looking more unhinged than ever. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, the chains that were holding him rattled together.

"What do you want from me..." he growled, his voice low.

"Oh, there's no need to be so hostile, my dear~" America's voice was smooth and fake, as if he were speaking to a child.

He walked over to Soviet, his footsteps echoing slightly in the empty room. The bald eagle perched on the chair squawked and ruffled its wings, its beady eyes watching them warily.

America chuckled and reached out a gloved hand, tracing a finger along Soviet's jaw.

"You're looking as handsome as ever~" he said mockingly, his voice dripping with irony.

America's gaze flicked to Third as he left, and he chuckled again.

"Leaving so soon?" he said, his tone almost teasing. He turned back to Soviet, his eyes running over Soviet's chained form.

"You look good with those cuffs, my dear..." He said, his voice low and almost suggestive. "It suits you well~"

Soviet felt a sense of dread wash over him as he heard America's words. He knew all too well how unhinged the country could be.

"Don't get any ideas," he growled, scowling at America. "I'm not some toy for you to play with."

"Oh, but you are, my dear~" America's voice was almost a purr now as he caressed Soviet's cheek with his gloved hand.

"You always were so... willing to follow my every order. You were always so... pliable." He smirked and grabbed Soviet's chin roughly, forcing the slightly taller nation to look at him.

"But you've also always been so lovely when you're forced into submission~"

Soviet felt a chill run down his spine as he heard America's words. It was true, he had been easy to manipulate in the past, and America had taken full advantage of that.