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16 August 2011 @ 09:04 pm
Owned 'Verse - Intro Fic~  
Characters: Viktor Syn Ochestva (watch_the_nails), Nathaniel Graison (nattie_blackcat)
Setting: Owned 'Verse
Rating: R. Adult Content and implied nastiness.
Word Count: 1,025
Notes: An intro fic for the 'Owned' 'verse, in which Victor is AU!Russian!Viktor, who is even worse than regular Victor (if that's even possible.) It's told from Nathaniel Graison's point-of-view. nattie_blackcat is used with permission encouragement. Any mistakes with the Russian are all mine.

Even with the hood drawn down about his head, Nathaniel can still recognise the scents and sounds which assail him as he is led through the building which is to become his newest ‘home’. The air is thick with faked gasps of enjoyment and the lingering musk of bodily fluids, both male and female; he can hear the murmured commands of bored directors, the hurried tapping of so many fingers on so many keyboards, and it’s clear to the young male exactly what kind of place this is without him even having to look. Here, they make porn, whether the participants are willing or otherwise. Here, he will be expected to star in a myriad of scenes for the pleasure of others watching half a world away – and right now, there is very little he can do about it.

His silent captors lead him along another corridor, and finally remove the stifling hood which has begun to smell and taste almost more rancid than he can bear. The plastic ties which held his hands are also cut free, and the young man is thrust forwards into a room which smells much the same as the others through which he was presumably led. He can hear the sounds before he’s even forced through the door; the wet slap of flesh against flesh, the deep, eager moans of a man clearly enjoying himself, and the softer, sharper cries of a woman who doesn’t sound so convinced.

Before he even knows where to look, Nathaniel can’t help but catch a glimpse of the scene before him. A dilapidated bed with stained sheets stands in the centre of the room, and on that bed a young woman is being coupled with furiously from behind. Her partner is a large, dark-haired male, only his back visible from this angle – his back, which sports an impressive collection of faded tattoos, and the barest glimpse of his genitalia as he thrusts relentlessly inside her, panting and gasping his delight. He’s already close to reaching his peak and he doesn’t even bother to turn around when he begins to spend himself inside his lover, howling as he shudders as whines, crying out and whimpering before pulling back away from the girl’s thighs, leaving a sticky, creamy mess to gather and drip from her body.

“Valiye otsyuda, suka,” the beast of a man growls, giving her backside a sturdy smack. “Ede k chortu!”

Nathaniel may not understand the language, but the tone of the large man’s voice is clear, and the way the woman hurriedly collects her clothes and flees from the room is evidence of this. Still, the brute doesn’t yet acknowledge the youth’s presence, at least not formally; he merely murmurs and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. This gives the younger male a chance to see the whole of the man’s body; it appears that the tattoos continues across his shoulders and onto his chest, and Nathaniel notes the cross-shaped charm which hangs from a chain about the large man’s neck. The giant also doesn’t seem to care that his flaccid member is in full view – and, to be fair, it would appear that he has very little to be ashamed about – and he casts the most cursory of glances in Nathaniel’s direction before reaching for the bottle of vodka which lies upon the nightstand. The big man unscrews the lid and drinks deeply as if the stuff were water, wiping his mouth on the back of a clawed – clawed – hand before slamming the bottle back down where it came from. Only then does he begin to gather his clothes, pulling on his trousers – plain black, with no underwear to be worn underneath – and grabbing a long-sleeved shirt in pale blue, tugging it over his shoulders but leaving the front open so that Nathaniel has a clear view of his broad chest.

“Americanitz.” It’s the first time the large man has actually spoken to Nathaniel directly, and the younger man dares to glance up at him, watching him light a cheap, Russian cigarette with a Zippo lighter. “Ty govareet po-Russkiy?”

Nathaniel’s brow furrows in confusion. He guesses that the man is speaking in Polish perhaps, maybe Russian. Neither of those languages are known to him.

“Ty govareet po-Russkiy?” the giant repeats, more slowly this time, as if he is speaking to an idiot. “Po-Russkiy? Da? Eley nyet?”

Although he instinctively fears some kind of retribution from the man, Nathaniel has to shake his head in denial. He may have only just arrived, but he can already sense something from the man that sends his hackles rising; he’s another dangerous Alpha Male, one to be avoided at all costs… except it seems that he’s fallen right into this man’s clutches. His claws.

“Po-Angleeski. Americanitz. Derrmo.” The big man snorts derisively and chuckles, sneering at Nathaniel. He changes then to speak in English, although it’s heavily-accented. “English, then. You are an American, yes? You speak English?”

“Yes.” Nathaniel nods, casting his eyes once more to the floor. He hasn’t even been told to be submissive here; it just feels like the right thing to do.

“Fucking Americans.” The large man takes a long draw of his cigarette and stares at the youth, as if appraising him – which, in all honesty, he is. “Always so demanding. Always thinking you are so fucking important. Thinking that you own the fucking world. It is bullshit.”

The youth knows better than to rise to the bait and remains still and silent while the large man in front of him carries on talking.

“But here, Americanitz – here, I will own you. I paid good money for you, and you will not let me down.”

He moves closer and smacks Nathaniel’s pert backside with the same hand which was, only a few minutes before, grabbing so fervently at his younger female partner; a wicked sneer curls his lips into a nasty smile.

“Here, you are mine. I am Viktor Syn Ochestva, and I am your new master. You will do as I say, or you will die. Your choice.” He shrugs almost impassively. “Welcome to Moscow.”


((OOC: Russian translations are as follows:

Viktor, to the woman - "Piss off, bitch," and "Go to hell!"
Viktor, to Nathaniel - "American. Do you speak Russian? Yes? Or no?" and "English. American. Asshole."))