hetalia_kink | Hetalia kink meme part 27

Hetalia kink meme part 27

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One day while browsing the Internet, Alfred comes across an article pertaining to Pavlov's dogs and subliminal conditioning. The article said that the same could be done with humans, and who better to test out what he'd read on than his significant other?

What I'd like to see is Alfred conditioning his significant other to orgasm whenever he does a specific thing (ex. running a hand down their thigh, making a particular noise, etc.). He does this whenever his partner orgasms for several months, until one day he performs the action when they're not having sex and they orgasm! Once Alfred finds out it works, he takes advantage of it; making his partner orgasm in public, when they're fighting, etc. All the while, his partner secretly loves it.

Bonus 1: If the trigger isn't obvious and it takes his partner a few unexpected orgasms to figure out what he's been doing.
Bonus 2: Alfred starts to feel guilty about what he's doing and stops, only to have his partner ask him to keep doing it.
Bonus 3: Alfred's partner is France, who is impressed by what he managed to accomplish and angry that he didn't think of such a thing first.

(I really hope this hasn't been done before... //sweats)

SECONDED. /flawless prompt!

Yesss I'd love seing that

Alfred absolutely loved his boyfriend.

Kiku was everything Alfred could never be. He was lean and smooth, well put together, careful in both manner and word, and always, without fail, kept firm reigns on his composure.

Except, of course, during sex.

And then, absurdly, Kiku went from a dark-eyed, judging god to a flushed model, pressed up against a wall or spread out over a bed mat with a disheveled yukata, long, beautiful legs drawn out like he was some kind of perfect image on a computer screen. For every moment the man spent keeping his tongue in check in polite conversation, it only increased the value of those rare, breathless gasps and throaty moans.

Kiku was unlike anything Alfred had ever seen before when he orgasmed. He was an entirely different creature, nymph-like and innocuously seductive.

And then, one chilly spring day, Alfred was sitting in his psychology lecture when the professor rattled off something that made him perk up: Pavlovian conditioning.

Of course the whole dog thing wasn’t in relation to some sex act or whatever, but Alfred’s mind twisted it almost immediately. What if he could see Kiku get off on command? It was a dark thought, spurred by horniness and the aching desire for instant gratification. Yeah, he loved working the man up until he could barely move, his body shivering and overwhelmed, but if he could just have him orgasm at will…

It was a dumb idea, honestly.

Sometimes though--not always, but sometimes--Kiku would wear out before they got to the end, fatigued and sweating, and would call a surrender. Alfred hated those instances, because it felt as though he had failed him, somehow. Sure, other times his boyfriend came right into his hand after a few strokes, but that was beside the point. Alfred hated losing.

And Alfred hated disappointing the people he loved, even if Kiku cited stress or tension or exhaustion or whatever else as the reasoning…

So then the idea started to take a bit more form. Pavlovian conditioning to make sure he could always satisfy his lover? What could that hurt?

It started out small.

On the way home they heard some cats yowling in heat and that morphed into Alfred teasing Kiku with his infatuation with cat ears until the man yielded to sex over studying. At the finale, as his boyfriend broke into orgasm, Alfred rubbed his left thumb over the patch of skin under Kiku’s right ear.

The condition began in earnest after that.

It was simple, really. Alfred avoided touching that spot at all costs, taking to sitting on Kiku’s left when he wanted to nibble at his neck or sustaining himself with teasing fingers up a thigh when he had to sit on his right. For all intents and purposes, that little bit of skin under his boyfriend’s right ear was largely neglected.

Soon enough it almost became habit. Kiku was shuddering into climax? Or gasping out in mixed English and Japanese that he was about to get off? Alfred readied himself and stroked beneath his ear. Every time. And if Kiku ever noticed he never commented on it, which actually led Alfred to believe that he hadn’t realized he was doing it at all.

An entire year passed this way until America remembered why he was doing what he was doing, having forgotten all but muscle memory, and a plan formed in his mind.

He just wanted to test how effective the conditioning had been. Really, he was pretty much convinced that it was useless, but he couldn’t know for sure unless he tried.

He hadn’t really meant for it to be a big deal.

They went to dinner one night and, Alfred on his right side, he decided he didn’t want to just resign himself to teasing Kiku’s thigh. No, if the conditioning had worked at all then Kiku would get horny just from a touch to his neck. And that was what Alfred wanted, more than anything. It could be a cute little tease with a promise of more back home.

“Hey.” Alfred said, smiling softly at his boyfriend and causing Kiku to look at him. Alfred made a come hither gesture with his index finger. “You’ve got something on your face.”

Instantly concerned, Kiku leaned in, more preoccupied with the idea that he might be making a fool of himself than with the embarrassment of having someone clean his face. (He used to blush at the act, but after being together a few years he’d gotten used to it, sadly.)

At first Alfred just brushed away nothing from Kiku’s cheek, “There.” He smiled. And then he did it.

He swiped his left thumb beneath his boyfriend’s ear.

The result wasn’t quite what Alfred had expected.

Kiku’s face went beet red, his lips parted in shock, and a hand flew up to his mouth to cover it. He went from normal to looking as though he was going to vomit from fever in about two fucking seconds.

From his closeness, Alfred could feel how Kiku’s legs jolted beneath the table, knees suddenly pressed together. A small wet spot formed on the front of the smaller man’s pants.

Oh.

Oh… wow.

Alfred’s breathing stopped, his cock throbbed between his legs, and he suddenly felt a level of arousal he’d never quite known before save for their first infatuation. Really, it was like he was falling in love all over again.

Looking up again that feeling squashed itself down as he noticed Kiku was near tears.

“Hey, are you oka--,”

Kiku was gone.

Alfred watched the other man rush to the bathroom with Alfred’s sweatshirt casually ‘draped’ along his front, as though he was only holding it and intended to put it on soon. No one else in the restaurant noticed him, nor his obvious distress.

Sitting there for some time, Alfred swallowed, thick.

He felt guilty, yeah, but he also felt… something else. A desire for more? Yeah. He wanted it to happen again. He wanted to do it again. He wanted to wring Kiku dry, milking him, pleasuring him, until his boyfriend couldn’t take it anymore.

He knew it was probably bad. Kiku didn’t seem to like it, but Alfred felt he couldn’t be entirely blamed. He hadn’t known it would do that…

Yeah. It wasn’t his fault. Not entirely, at least.

And it wasn’t that bad, right? It had to feel good. He was just making Kiku feel good. He liked pleasing his boyfriend.

Alfred was torn.

The next time it happened was during an argument.

“I said I was sorry! Geez!” Alfred growled, stomping his way through the apartment. His nerves were shot, he’d been up three days straight writing a paper, and he’d forgotten to take his shoes off when he got back and now there was dirt tracked through the apartment. And he was grinding it in more now, yeah. Because he was mad and tired and he just wanted to go to bed.

Kiku was following him with a vacuum cleaner. “Alfred, please.” The man sighed. “You’re making the mess bigger…”

“Oh no!” Alfred said, throwing his hands up. “A mess in our immaculately clean apartment! However shall we live!”

He kicked his shoes off at the door with a vengeance. Kiku always did this--always nagged about how he left stuff out or put stuff in the wrong place or didn’t pick up after himself. It hadn’t been this way when Alfred was a bachelor. His apartment hadn’t been dirty but a homey amount of mess wasn’t unappreciated.

Kiku would probably get ruffled if he put the spices back in the wrong order, that was the level of shit he had to deal with sometimes.

And normally Alfred found it endearing. Right now he was fueled only by five Red Bulls and sheer force of will. Right now was not ‘normally’.

Kiku looked angry, eyes tempestuous and hard, and Alfred didn’t want to deal with it. He didn’t want to have to suffer the silent treatment he’d surely get and he didn’t want to have to grovel to make it better, even if later he’d probably come around to being in the wrong.

It was a petty gesture, honestly. Alfred walked up to him and kissed him.

It was just a peck on the lips but it was a front, because he used that moment to stroke Kiku’s neck, just below his right ear.

Somehow, when he pulled back, he wasn’t actually expecting the whole thing to have worked again. The first time had seemed dreamlike. But there it was: Kiku’s face had bloomed like a rose, his eyes were wide and vulnerable with the anger chased right out, and his hand flew to his mouth again to muffle a noise that Alfred was going to accurately categorize as ‘lewd’.

“I’m just tired. I’m going to sleep.” Alfred said softly, and left him like that. When he woke up twelve hours later it was to dinner being prepared. When he came out of his room, Kiku seemed to be acting like nothing had happened--neither the fight nor the involuntary orgasm.

Alfred wasn’t sure how to feel, but the guilty knot in his chest coiled itself tighter.

Life continued on, they made up, and Alfred’s libido returned full force with their amiability. Every night, without fail, he’d bug his boyfriend into lovemaking. Snuggling kisses and playful romps towards the bed and teases and cocky words. Alfred was always like this and Kiku accepted it, or tolerated it as his smiles sometimes said, but that was what made them them. If he didn’t drag his boyfriend out of his hobbies and interests and work, then no one else was gonna do it. And Kiku’s body had needs, that much Alfred had long ago confirmed.

Needs that Kiku neglected.

A week. It’d been a week of constant denials and brushing off and, ‘I’m busy.’ And it was at that point that Alfred decided this couldn’t continue, because no matter how much Kiku wanted to complete his doujin before the convention, that didn’t mean he could drive himself into exhaustion. He still remembered the one year Kiku got himself sick after having already secured a booth to sell his wares.

He didn’t want to repeat that second-hand anguish ever again.

So Alfred dragged him into the kitchen with the promise of tea and that was when he struck.

He hadn’t counted on Kiku dropping and shattering his favorite ceramic cup, spilling boiling tea all over the tile as he bent over, red-faced and gasping. He didn’t count on the exhausted lines under his boyfriend’s eyes or the tears that started to drip down his face without reserve or the writhing helplessness and complete humiliation that took hold as he looked up at Alfred.

Because Alfred knew what was happening and for whatever reason he always felt stunned by it.

But now Kiku, staring up at him, wide-eyed and horrified, knew that Alfred knew.

His boyfriend disappeared into the bathroom. Alfred walked in later to find him having passed out with his head propped up on the side of the tub, the water lukewarm. He was pretty sure Kiku couldn’t have drowned himself by accident, but the jolt of fear existed all the same.

This wasn't fun anymore.

“Alfred?”

“Yeah?”

It’d been four months since the third and last time Alfred had done ‘the trick’ and things had returned largely to normal. Sure, they’d had ups and downs and, yeah, he’d considered the idea of doing ‘it’ again, but every time the suggestion popped into his head he was crushed by a weight of guilt so massive he went overboard with making things up to Kiku, even if his gifting and treating and care didn’t make sense to the other man at times.

So when a book was placed on the low table and pushed across towards him, Alfred didn’t expect anything of it.

“Oh damn, this is the one you got done by that new printer, right? I can tell. The quality’s much higher!” Alfred said, always elated to be the receiver of Kiku’s ‘first copy’. He usually gave the man privacy to concentrate on his doujins, but this was the reward and it was always well worth the wait.

Kiku just smiled a small smile that Alfred was familiar enough with to know that there was something about all of this that he wasn’t getting.

Then he actually looked at the pages.

His brow furrowed.

Ignoring the text, for the most part, he focused on the plot in the pictures. A strange sort of realization was coming together.

It was an R18 book about Pavlovian conditioning.

It detailed exactly what Alfred had done, down to every last detail, except the location of the touch was the small of the back, not the neck.

Alfred looked up, caught, mortified, and absolutely bewildered

Kiku rose a hand to his mouth and made a small noise to clear his throat. “What do you think?”

Alfred swallowed, hesitated, and looked down at the book. It took him longer than he was proud of to conjure the right words. “... I think the protagonist’s an asshole.” He said quietly.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Alfred continued on, words dripping with self-loathing. “He’s taking advantage of someone he cares about. It’s disgusting.”

“Hm.” Kiku hummed non-judgmentally.

“If I--,” Alfred stopped as he looked up at his boyfriend. “If I were him, I wouldn’t expect to ever be forgiven. I wouldn’t deserve someone that nice.”

He couldn’t read his boyfriend’s eyes. After a long moment, Kiku gently said, “Finish reading it.”

Alfred’s brow furrowed. Why? Would they break up? Would it detail all of Kiku’s rage against him for being used and abused? He felt sick as he looked down at the book again and began reading through it, this time in earnest. The protagonist did the trick again. And again.

He wanted to throw up.

And then came the confrontation. The love interest figured it out. The protagonist apologized, every bit as guilty as Alfred felt in that moment.

The love interest--

… What?

Alfred blinked.

“Wait…” He peered up at Kiku. “What?”

Kiku just smiled that small smile again. It was the kind of smile that always told Alfred he’d lost.

Alfred looked down at the book. The love interest was going on and on about how exciting the act had been and how much they were ashamed but always loved the surprise of it. They even continued on to describe how they had attempted to bait the protagonist into doing it more…

It felt like someone had turned Alfred’s entire world upside down.

“I am aware of Pavlovian conditioning, Alfred.” His boyfriend admitted, almost shyly. His brown eyes were luminescent in the living room lighting, fired up by a playfulness that was as rare as anything else. “I have been training you to prepare my tea at the sound of a noise from my phone as revenge, among other things.”

Alfred just stared. Then he raked a hand through his hair. After a moment of thought, he even vaguely remembered what noise that probably was.

“Motherfucker.” He exhaled, less to Kiku and more to himself. He couldn’t even fathom the depth of the trouble he was in, but if the doujin was anything to go by it was clearly a lot less than he'd initially thought.

Which meant that now this whole thing was a game--orgasms, tea, and all.

His boyfriend just silently smiled, radiating all of the smugness of a true king, and Alfred re-remembered why it was that he didn’t do stupid, pseudo-intellectual shit like this in the first place.

Kiku was way, way smarter than him.

Alfred wasn't sure whether to be excited or scared.

[OP here, and I just have to say that this is FANTASTIC! I love that you chose Ameripan, it was a really interesting choice and it worked well! Awesome job, A!A!]

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Hetalia kink meme part 27

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