Archive of Our Own ^beta

"It was a shame, what happened to your father... But it is good you survived," The man known only to Helmut as the *Red Skull* hums, as the young man is led into the room. "It was a bit difficult, getting you out of that prison." 

Helmut responds with a slow nod, 

"You should be thanking me, boy." The Red Skull hums, adjusting in his seat. "With more than simple words,"

 Helmut cannot help but tilt his head in confusion, uncertain of what the other was implying. But as the man"s eyes slowly looked him up and down, a certain smirk spreads across his skeletal face. 

 "How would I..-?" He begins, and is silenced quickly. 

 "You may begin by stripping your clothes." The Skull suggests- No, demands. It leaves Helmut"s face a bright red, a look in his eyes similar to a deer caught in the headlights. The other notices, and his smirk merely grows. "You hesitate? Tsk tsk... I assure you, those American Dogs would be far less kind as I am, were you to go back there... Would you prefer that?" 

"N-no sir!" Helmut sputters, gripping the fabric of his clothing tightly in gloved hands. 

"Good boy, now begin..." 

"Yes sir..."

 A deep feeling of dread washes over the man as he unclasps the harness around his shoulders. It seeps through his skin, travels through his arteries. And it gathers, sitting heavily in his chest. Suffocating him. As he slides the harness off his arms, he accidentally lets out a hard sob. Hands trembling as he drops the straps. The Red Skull gives a long disappointed sigh. And Helmut hears the leather of his uniform shuffle as he stands. He winces, eyes squeezing shut as he approaches. Whimpering as he feels the leather of his gloves against his cheek. 

 “Tch. You are crying already, little Zemo?” The other hums. His thumb caresses a gentle circle against his cheek. And Helmut tastes bile in his mouth. His body is so tense that  it hurts. “You have hardly started, you act as if I"m ready to devour you,” 

 “I"m… S-sorry,” He manages to whimper. As the Red Skull’s hand moves further down his face. Grasping his chin. Helmut swallows dryly, before his face is violently jerked to the side. To where he assumes the Red Skull’s horrible face is. 

 “Look at me when I"m speaking to you, boy.” The man snarls. And hesitantly, Helmut opens his eyes, a fearful whimper escaping him. It was a horrific sight, the Red Skull. He towered him immensely, glaring down at him with a predatory gaze. His thin lips stretched in a scowl. His face leathery, skin a horrible red and stretched over his features. He was terrifying. And Helmut wanted to cry. 

 “You look terrified, not that I blame you. I understand that your father spoiled you, you hardly saw any actual combat had you?” The man continues, his thumb caressing again at Helmut"s face. Making him tremble. 

 “N…No sir…” 

 “You"ve lost your protectors… Your father, dead in front of your eyes. And your own childhood friend has abandoned you. You poor thing.” The Red Skull continues to caress along his face, now with his palm. Helmut is like a statue, stiff as all hell. 

 “S-Steven? Do you know of him?” Helmut dares to ask. Making frightened eye contact. Eyes wide as they shine with threatened tears. His voice was wavering. 

 “Of course I do,” Is all he says. And Helmut doubts that he will elaborate. “What is the matter, little Baron?”

 “I am frightened,” Helmut admits, as he wishes nothing more than for their gazes to part. And he swallows hard. “You frighten me,” his heart feels as if it were in his throat, racing hard. It feels as if it may burst, as the Red Skull’s hand travels to his neck, planting firmly on the left side of it. His thumb caresses along where his pulse is best felt. Which only quickens when he lets out a low chuckle.

 “I frighten you? Why is that..?” The Red Skull hums, as his gloved finger teased along the collar of Helmut’s uniform, sliding along the fabric until it reaches the buttons. The young man lets slip a small whimper, eyes squeezing shut as the button is slowly opened by the terrifying figure before him. The sound is poorly masked, as the other quickly smirks in response. Waiting for the answer to his question as his hand returns to Helmut’s neck, grasping it by the side once more. In what Helmut assumes to be a threatening gesture. One that does its job excellently.

 “Many reasons..” Helmut squeaks out, A cold sweat on his spine as the Skull’s thumb grazes along his Adam"s apple. Eyes watching him intensely. The barely hidden sadistic glint in his eye sends a cold chill through Helmut’s entire body. He wishes to cry, to run away and hide. How he wishes his father were here, to hold him again and shield him from this terrible beast of a man that stared at him as if he were little more than pray. But his father was not here. And neither was Steven, all he had left.

 “Are you a virgin, boy?” The question is like a blade to the gut. Rattling Helmut as his eyes widen. The chill rests in his now numb hands as he looks into the horrible man’s eyes. His stomach turned as every bit of color drained from his face.

 “What?” He asks, as if somehow he could have misheard such a question. And the Skull’s expression remained unwavering, staring down deeply into Helmut’s eyes. Paralyzing him.

“Was I not clear enough? Have you or have you not had intercourse?” The Skull restates. And this is less of a question, as it is more of a demand for an answer. “Surely a young man as healthy as yourself had to have at least had some women vying for you? Hm?”

 Helmut swallows deeply. And he is uncertain how he should answer. Of course, he had many women attracted to him. But he’d never found any of them particularly… Interesting. He could never find himself drawn to bedding a woman, no matter how hard he tried. It needed to be the right person, he convinced himself. Or perhaps just to convince everyone else, that surely there was no other reason. No reason he could not bed the many women he was sure were attractive. No person he truly loved, that would always remain out of reach. That the true reason could end in his very death.

 “I am a virgin..” He answers softly. Voice quiet and hardly able to be heard. 

 But unfortunately it is. 

 “I see.” The Skull chuckles, as he pulls his hand away. And a frightening change to his expression tells the young man this was the wrong choice. “ I see… ”

 “What…?”

“Now continue, You have only removed one item. You have wasted enough of my time already,” The Skull orders, stepping back once more from Helmut. The sound of his boots on the wooden floor beneath them once again a loud assault to the young man’s ears as he walks back to the armchair he originally sat upon. Helmut watches as he reaches to the small table beside it, taking hold of a riding crop and holding it now over his lap. “Or perhaps you would like me to force the clothes from your body myself, ”

  “Why? Why do you wish for me to do this?” Helmut cries, a strained sob escaping him as he clutches fearfully onto his shirt. “Why do you ask me these strange questions?”

 Tears stream freely down his cheeks now, as he fumbles with the latches of his shirt. Hands trembling. “I do not understand-”

 “ SILENCE! ” His voice is loud, booming throughout the room. It startles Helmut, causing him to flinch as he hears the man’s boots slam into the ground as he stares, and a loud CRACK! As he slams the crop over the arm of the chair. And he listens, going silent as he stands there trembling. “I will not be questioned by the likes of a spoiled brat who cannot be thankful and listen to what he is told! Your idiot of a father may have allowed this level of whining but you will find that I do not tolerate such behavior. Now STRIP!” 

  “Y-Yes… Sir..” Helmut says softly. His fumbling hands moved to pull the gloves from his fingers, dropping them to the floor. He hears the chair squeak as the Skull again sits. And he does not need to look up from the floor to know the other is staring at him. Intently. He hears the clinking of a glass, and the pouring of liquid, as his hands move to his belt. Trembling as he works to undo the clasp, sliding the leather strap out. And again, he drops this too to the floor.

 “Hmm… You have an incredibly effeminate figure, Baron..” The Red Skull purrs lowly, sending a wave of horrified disgust throughout Helmut. He feels the urge to vomit. “I see now why your father hardly let you out of his sight, soldiers away from a woman"s touch for so long can be dogs you see..”

 “I.. Suppose so..” He mutters in response. As he shakily begins to unbutton his shirt. Swallowing down a sob. He felt filthy already, just from the other’s horrible words. By the very implications of what he said. He lets the fabric slip down his arms as he undoes the last buttons, the shirt too… Falling to the floor amongst the others. And he hears the other’s low hum of approval. 

 “Go on now… You are halfway there..” The Skull purrs. And Helmut looks up at him. And regrets it. His predatory gaze only grows stronger now, as he stares at him. Helmut swallows down a sob, as he bends down to unclasp his boots. And the monster of a man watching him licks his lips. Like a dog salivating at a steak before it.

 He steps out from the boots, socked feet hitting the floor. He hesitates, as his hands reach the waistline of his pants. Hovering there a moment, until he hears the light tapping of the crop against the arm of the chair. Swallowing, he pulls them down, stepping out. Left only in his undergarments and socks. His hands reach to pull off the sleeveless undershirt when the Skull speaks.

 “Stop for a moment,” He orders. And Helmut obeys. Turning anxiously to look at him. Whimpering when he realizes why he has been ordered to stop. The man pats his thigh, motioning for Helmut to approach him. “Come here, Sit.”

 He wants him to sit in his lap. And Helmut uses every bit of his self control not to vomit in his mouth, scream, run away. No, he instead obeys. Slowly approaching, wiping his tears from his face. He hesitates, until the Skull’s hands plant themselves onto his hips and “guide” him (really forcing him) to sit on his knee. Helmut is stiff as a board, body so tense it hurts.

 “Ah, good boy.” The Skull hums. And Helmut winces as he feels his hands feel along the sides of his waist, pushing the undershirt up his stomach. “You lack a lot of body hair, little Baron.” He notes.

 “I… Yes..” He says softly, trembling as he watches the other remove the leather gloves from his hands. And he feels ill at the idea of his bare vile hands touching his skin. Yet he is helpless to stop it. 

 

 “What a shame, that you were born male then, hm?” The Skull chuckles. As his now bare hand travels along Helmut’s pale stomach, caressing along the impossibly soft skin. Up to his chest, groping along the soft flesh of his pectoral. “Such soft skin, so smooth.. Fragile,”

 Helmut cries, as his body instinctively jerks away from the squeezing hand.

 “I-I thought men were not s-supposed to touch one another like this! Does Hydra not ban this?” He wails. As much as saying the statement hurts him, as if it didn’t force him to hide his own feelings. But he wishes it were the only pain he felt. As he feels the Skull’s free hand grip the back of his neck, forcing him to bend down over the man’s thighs.

 “I AM Hydra boy!” The Skull snarls. As he forcibly pins a writhing Helmut down over his lap. His leg moving to pin Helmut’s down before he can kick. And while Helmut cannot see what he grabs, he knows immediately when he feels a sharp KRAKK! Across his ass. Wailing as he feels the riding crop whip across each cheek. A smack following each word as the Skull rants. “I tire of you spoiled youth questioning my word! I OWN you! Those American dogs would have you dead or worse if not for me!”

 The pain was seering, dragging hard sobs out of Helmut. The harsh sting growing with each hard whip to his ass, even through the briefs he wore. He can hardly see through the tears in his eyes, as he grips the arm of the chair. Horrified and in pain from the utter violation that was happening to him.

 And he realized something utterly mortifying. How despite the fact this hurt, the fact it made him feel sick to his stomach. His body, so treacherous a thing, was trembling now with an utterly shameful arousal. That every cruel smack to his ass helped his cock twitch to life. Which now pressed uncomfortably against the knit fabric of his briefs.

 And even more sickening, he could feel something poking into his belly from the Skull’s lap.

 “P-Puh..LEASE! I’m sorry! P-please st-stop!” He sobs, his face reddening from both utter humiliation and the tears streaming down his face. And to his utter shock, the barrage on his ass ceases. And he hears the crop placed back on the table.

 He cries out once more though, as he feels fingers tangle into his hair. And he is violently yanked to sit up. He feels the follicles tear from his scalp, the stinging pain immense. And yet… The sound he lets out is not only of pain.

 “You disgusting little masochist,” The Skull snarls. As he forces Helmut’s head to face him. Helmut opens his mouth to respond, but no words escape him as he is forcibly silenced. By the most disgusting of means.

 The Red Skull forces his lips against his. His hand grasping at Helmut’s jaw to keep him from biting down as his tongue forces its way inside his mouth. The young man cries out into the forced kiss, body jerking as he tries to pull away. But he is overpowered easily, as his wrists are easily encircled in the Skull’s free hand.

 It feels disgusting, how his tongue slithers through his mouth. His rough lifts forcibly against his own. The unmistakable taste of a hard liquor fresh in his saliva. Helmut wants to vomit, and he’s certain that he very well might when he gags, feeling the other’s tongue try to slip into his throat.

 And why, why was he still throbbing in his briefs.

 The Skull finally pulls away, leaving Helmut coughing and sputtering. He releases him, letting Helmut throw himself to the floor. Hitting the wood in his clumsy attempt to wriggle away with a loud thud.

 “I’m sure you understand the inevitability of this,” The man says as he stands from the chair, as he reaches toward the table again. Helmut sobs, as he lifts a glass bottle of some.. Substance. “It will happen with your cooperation or not,”

 “Why? J-just kill me instead!” Helmut sobs. Crawling back on the floor. As the Skull continues toward him.

 “You are of little use to me dead,” The Skull says simply, as he kneels down, pulling Helmut back down towards him by his legs. Helmut shrieks in response, kicking out at him wildly. He lands maybe one or two, but it only serves to annoy him more.

 Helmut is yanked to sit up by his undershirt, which easily tears open. Before he can comprehend that he feels his head violently turned, a sudden sting on his cheek. His vision white for a few seconds. And he realizes the other has slapped him across the face. Hard.

 “Please, you are only making this harder on yourself.” The Skull says, in such a wretched mocking tone. He holds up the bottle in front of Helmut’s face, shaking it. “You are aware of what this is, yes?”

 Helmut shakes his head no.

 “It is an oil, it will make this much less painful for you. That is, if you stop fighting me like a rabid animal.”

 Helmut sobs, dry heaving as his body slumps. He knows what the other is implying. And even more, he knows that he is helpless to stop it now. Even if he manages to escape, the guards outside the door will only stop him.

 “Please… Why are you doing this to me?” He begs, as he squeezes his eyes shut. He hears the shuffling of fabric, a belt being undone. “I have already lost everything,”

 He doesn’t even fight it as he’s turned onto his belly, his briefs being pulled down.

 “Oh my poor little Baron, it is not about what you will lose,” The Skull tuts. As Helmut hears the bottle be opened, sobbing out as he feels the oil pour over his virgin asshole. And he despises how his cock twitches. How it leaks with treacherous pre. “It is apparent who you have stayed a virgin for, and unfortunately for you he… required more convincing to serve me.”

 “ No..” Helmut wails, as he feels the other grip his hip. Hips jolting as he feels what he can easily assume is two fingers force their way inside him. “Steven! Please..”

 “He is not here to rescue you, but trust me.. He will know I’ve taken the one thing he wanted most soon enough,” He hears him coo. And he feels the sting, as the unwelcome fingers scissor inside of him. “But I am not wholly cruel, see? I do not intend to damage you too badly,”

 “Please…” He sobs. As the fingers exit. And he wails out desperately as he feels something much larger press against his hole. But he is afforded little mercy, as the Skull presses forward. At first his hole is unyielding, but that tight ring of muscle only holds out for so long until it gives. The Skull’s cock pushing through.

 And Helmut screams. Even despite the oils used to lubricate it hurts . The sharp pain jolting through his body as the Red Skull only pushes onward, unyielding in his effort to sodomize the young baron. He is in.

 He hears him groan out, as his hips press into Helmut’s round ass. Fully inside of Helmut’s hole. Which throbbed in pain, his inner walls squeezing down tightly on the unwelcome intrusion. He is trembling, eyes seeing stars as he struggles to find his breath. And he feels the other man’s hot breath on his neck, gagging as he feels his lips press against the side of his neck. And he laughs, the bastard fucking laughs.

 “Ahh… From now on, you are no longer a virgin..” The Red Skull chuckles.

 Helmut wanted to die. Cheek pressed into the hardwood floor. Tears in his eyes. Forcing himself to stare at the wall. Try to think of anything but this.

 But his mind could only wander to Steve. And how horrified he would be when he learned of this. How the years they’d spend together were… wasted now. How could he ever take Helmut now? How could he ever want… Something rotten, dirtied..

 Filthy.

 And it could only wander for so long. When the other began to move. A breathless groan leaving Helmut as the Skull pulled his hips back. And the slow drag of him pulling out about halfway, only to buck back in. Hips hitting Helmut’s ass with a quiet slap.

 “I-it hurts!” Helmut gasps, his nails dragging across the wood floor. He wails, as the Skull thrusts again.

 “I know it does,” Is the only response he gets.

 Helmut slams his forehead into the floor, biting down onto his lower lip. The Red Skull begins to fuck into him now, his lazy thrusts slowly speeding up. When eventually the pain dulls to a thud, Helmut weeps.

 The Red Skull fucks him sloppily, like an old dog. In a way he’s thankful for it, that at the very least it wasn’t entirely agonizing.

 Thankful, until by some horrible miracle he feels something… Different. The Skull’s cock drags across his prostate, thrusting back down in a direct hit. And everything tightens, a shaky moan escaping him. He grimaces.

 “No… No..” He whines, as the Skull seems to notice. And hits his prostate again.

 “Cum for me,” He snarls into Helmut’s ear. And Helmut feels his pace speed up, and he cries out, trying desperately not to moan. But it is impossible, as his insides clench and his thighs tremble. And unmistakable pressure building within him.

 “No! No!” He cries, as tears and drool drip down his sweaty face.

 “I’m cumming, cum for me NOW!” The skull snarls louder. Helmut yelps, as he feels a hard smack on his ass. “Cum from me sodomizing you, you little faggot!”

 And he does. He fucking cums. Hot white ropes thicker than any he’d ever had spurting from his cock onto the hardwood below him. His hips jerking and twitching as the Skull’s (already terrible) pace wavers, until he slams his bodyweight down into Helmut. Cock as deep as it goes. And Helmut feels a flood of hot seed inside of him, painting his insides.

 He feels so dizzy, body slumping onto the floor beneath the other’s crushing weight. Gasping for air as he sees stars in his eyes.

 Then the Skull sits up, dragging a pained whimper out of Helmut as he pulls out. With a wet sound as he leaves him gaping, hole clenching around the sudden emptiness, sore but… Intact.

 Yet somehow that made it worse.

  “I-I hate you…” He sobs.

 “I am aware.” Is the only response, as he looks up. The Skull staring down at him. “Get up and get dressed, the guards will bring you to a room to rest.”

 He wants to spit on him, stab him. He wants to rip out his throat, lunge on him and accept whatever death follows when the guards burst in.

 But he does not. 

 He obeys.