[Makebelieve] Treefc: The Rejected Lover Affair (Branch 2) part 13, 14, 15 - Man From Uncle - Illya/m, Napoleon/f - non-con, angst

[makebelieve archive]

This is now a Tree Fic.. If a segment post inspires you to write, please do
you write us a chapter. Don't worry about if two folks write the same part,
that only gives us an additional story from the branch. Anyone who wants to
start a wren of their own, roll it on out, the more the merrier...and what
better way to shake a list out of its stupor than to have stories pouring
in, hey? Oh, and finally, for those of you who want to try your hand at
writing but have never felt comfortable in turning out a full-out story,
this would be the perfect oppportunity for you to dip your toe. we're just
having fun. Remember, no rules or structure. If you want to do a single
person response (RPG) bit, its all good. the idea is to make a story. little
bits or large scenes, its all good

NOTE: With a double post for Chapter 6, this story has branched in two
directions. the primary (Branch 1) is archived here
http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=39995 the second
branch http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=40060 You will
find all versions
http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/series.php?seriesid=456

The Rejected Lover Affair (Branch 2)
by round robin authors

Fandom: Man From UNCLE
Pairing/Characters: [Man From Uncle] Napoleon Solo (Robert Vaughn), Illya
Kuryakin (David McCallum) and Alexander Waverly (Leo G. Carroll)
Portrayed by: above
Category: Hetero, slash A Wandering Wren. this is a story that anyone can
add to at any tme. Please consider adding a part.
Rating: FRAO
Status: wandering
Spoilers: not as yet
Series/Sequel: no
Brief Summary: One of the agents is....misplaced
Warnings: abuse under the disguise of BDSM, torture, angst, abduction
Notes/acknowledgments: written to bring attention to the new
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ManFromUNCLE_Fantasies list
General thanks to all of you folks who are requesting short fics and improvs
in the various fandoms. You're keeping the words flowing.
Disclaimers: MfU belongs to its creator. The story comes frm the minds and
souls of the writers.
Archive: on makebelieve





Part 13
by Miss De Meana
missdemeana2 at yahoo.com

Napoleon felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck as Fontaine caressed
his friend's body, seemingly unconcerned about his audience. But Napoleon's
anger faded to concern as Illya failed to respond to the contact. He slept
on, sprawled bonelessly across the bed, while Fontaine trailed his fingers
along the abrasions and bruises.

"What have you done to him?" Napoleon demanded. Behind him, Ivy chuckled and
he pulled his head away as her fingers combed through his hair.

"So concerned, Napoleon." She caught a lock of hair between her fingers and
pulled cruelly. "And you always said there was nothing between the two of
you."

He knew Ivy had never believed his denials. Nothing had ever happened
between Illya and himself, but had she seen something in his eyes? Something
he'd been unable to hide, even before her? He had to distract her from the
subject. He'd turn on the charm – she'd always been a sucker for that.

"Ivy, I'm flattered that you were so jealous." He turned his head, giving
her a half smile. "I liked it. It made me want you more," he said quietly.
He saw her lips part, as her tongue swept across her bottom lip. He knew
that sign – she was aroused, already. It took little to bring her to that
stage. It had been one of the things that had attracted him at the start.
Few women are so accommodating, when it came to sex, despite the sexual
revolution of the sixties. She leaned close and Napoleon tilted his head
back for a kiss. If he could get her on his side, if he could use his charms
to good effect....

Paul Fontaine stood, clapping slowly as he approached. "Oh, bravo, Mr. Solo,
bravo. Ivy said you were a master of seduction." Napoleon pulled away,
satisfied at least that Fontaine no longer fondled his unconscious partner.
He turned his gaze to Fontaine. "I do my best."

"And I'm willing to bet that wasn't your best. Still impressive, however."
Fontaine turned to Ivy. "My dear, we have guests arriving soon. Why don't
you get ready to greet them?"

Ivy pulled reluctantly away from Napoleon with a sigh. "As you wish." She
sauntered over to Fontaine, trailing a finger down his jaw. "But you promise
we can play later?"

"Of course. Now, run along. I'll be along soon." He watched as she left the
room, before turning his attention to Napoleon. "She has her uses, but
she's... not playing with a full deck, you might say."

Napoleon smiled. "You two should get along just fine."

Fontaine chuckled. "Humour. Very good." He wagged a finger before Napoleon's
face. "You're going to need it in the next few days."

Napoleon didn't like the sound of that. "Oh? Care to let me in on your
plans?"

Fontaine seemed to give it a moment's consideration. "Why not." He stepped
closer and Napoleon recognised he was in for a lengthy explanation. What was
it with mad men? Why were they compelled to explain their nefarious plans?

"Ivy and I met by chance." Fontaine smiled at a memory. "Actually, I was
following Illya, when I came across her following the two of you." He shook
his head. "Her insane jealousy will be the death of her."

Napoleon had the feeling that last statement was more than a passing
comment. What did Fontaine plan to do? "So, the two of you got together
and... what? Plan to kidnap us both?"

"She's an amazingly resourceful woman. She has a mind full of half baked
plans and schemes, most of which are totally insane, of course. One,
however, seemed quite feasible. And profitable."
Fontaine moved back to the bed, sitting beside his unconscious prisoner,
stroking Illya's body like one would stroke a beloved cat. "She suggested we
went into acquisitions. We acquire what people want, and sell it to them."
Fontaine looked up at Napoleon. "Like you, for instance. There are a couple
of people from a certain organisation who are very interested in you and
willing to pay the price." Fontaine looked back down at his captive. "Him,
too. But he's not for sale. Some things are too precious to sell." Fontaine
leaned over, kissing lifeless lips. "My pet. He's like a drug to me. I won't
give him up."

So, Napoleon was to be sold as a simple commodity. And, he suspected, this
was to be the fate of the missing scientists and military people. He looked
up at the ceiling, as if he could see through it. Was this the reason for
Fontaine's guests tonight? He looked across at the guards, at the barred
windows, and down at his shackles. Yes, he and Ilya had been in worse
situations, but they'd always escaped. They would this time.

Somehow.

end part 13



Part 14
by Miss De Meana
missdemeana2 at yahoo.com

Illya Kuryakin felt his whole body jump as awareness came swiftly. He pulled
his face backwards, trying to avoid the obnoxious smell. Ammonium carbonate.
Fontaine used the same method to rouse him every time. He groaned in
frustration. Would this nightmare ever end?

He shifted, trying to get comfortable, his senses slowly kicking in. He was
upright, his wrists encased in soft leather restraints, which were in turn
attached to a smooth wooden cross. Not intended to injury, but to hold him
in place. His ankles, likewise restrained, were anchored a foot or so apart.
Illya recognised this devise. They'd already played this game. A game that
usually involved pain.

He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to open them to the glare of the
spotlights – centre stage, as usual - as he felt his captor move behind him.
Fontaine's sweat-slicked body pressed against his back, his arousal digging
into Illya's thigh as his hands caressed his captive's pale skin.

"So beautiful. So perfect."

Illya was tired of the same old rhetoric. "Just get on with it!" he snapped.

Fontaine chuckled. "So impatient."

Illya hung his head, anger colouring his tone. "You're getting stale, Paul.
We've played this game before."

He felt cold steel press against his upper arm and hissed as the point of a
blade pressed into his flesh. As warm blood trickled down his arm, he
wondered at his own capacity for torture. Fontaine, however, never over did
the blood letting, causing just enough damage to mark.

"Not like this, my pet. Not with an audience. Ivy!" At his command, another
spotlight lit up the wall across from Illya. "Open your eyes," Fontaine
commanded.

Illya did, reluctantly. There was something in Fontaine's voice, a smugness
that piqued Illya's interest. He opened his eyes a crack, wincing at the
bright lights, and felt his blood freeze at the sight before him.

"Napoleon!" Illya's partner was ball-gagged, chained to a chair, a look of
frustration on his face as he tugged ineffectually against his restraints.
Illya looked away from his friend, seeking out Fontaine. "No! No! Leave him
out of this!"

Fontaine came to stand in front of him, resting a slim steel knife along
Illya's breast bone. "I can't, my sweet. Ivy was most insistent." He leant
in, whispering in Illya's ear, "I think this is one of her fantasies."

Ivy appeared in the pool of light. "My fantasy is to watch Kuryakin slowly
and painfully die."

Illya felt a little satisfaction as Fontaine's smile faded. "I told you,
nothing is to happen to him."

Ivy laughed. "Happen to him? Look at him! He's been bruised, whipped and
cut."

Fontaine rounded on her. "These," he said, slapping his hand against Illya's
chest, "are my marks! Mine!" He run his fingers through the trail of blood
on Illya's arm, holding his red fingers up towards her. "The blood in his
veins belongs to me! No one, and I mean NO ONE, is to touch him! Do you
understand?"

Ivy had gone still, the smile wiped from her face. She leaned against the
back of Napoleon's chair. "Fine. You play with your toys and I'll play with
mine."

Fontaine's stance relaxed. "Just so we understand each other."

"I think we do." Ivy trailed a hand along Napoleon's shoulder as she walked
around in front of the chair. "So, what's the plan? You do have one, don't
you?"

end part 14


Part 15
by PEJA
makebelievearchive at gmail.com

Fntaine smiled, a dark and omminous smile that promised something very much
not nice. "My plans," he murmured, "Are my own." His tongue lazily licked
the bleeding wound on Illya's arm. As he topped the cut, he tangled his
fingers in Illya's blond hair and dragged his head around, sharing the taste
with his resisting captive.

When he broke the kiss, he tilted his head to study Illya's blood smeared
lips. "When you need to know something," He dragged his finger through the
blood. "I will tell you." He slowly licked off the finger, groaning in
blood-lust pleasure.

"But...?"

"Ivy, enough. You wanted your elusive Mr Solo. I got him for you. You wanted
to see Illya punished for taking him away from you. Illya has felt the whip
for his folly. Now you will deal with your whims and I," He knelt before his
captive and stroked Illya's cock with a practiced hand. "WIll do the same."

He swallowed the hard flesh, causing Illya to thrust reflexively into his
mouth, even as he protested against the forced sex. Fontaine chuckled around
the sweet treet and continued to torture a grudging lust from Illya. He was
practiced in the arts of desire and pulled on that learning time he'd had a
willing Illya in his bed. Illya's words stuttered to a halt as need flared
in him leaving discretion behind he gavehimself over to the desire firing
his blood.

Napoleon went wild in his bounds, but to no avail. The chains held him
tight, forcing him to watch his partner and friend's rape through his tears.


end part 15
***

Okay MfU authors, or even those who just wannabe, how about adding a few
lines.

oh and remember to come play on
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ManFromUNCLE_Fantasies would love to see some
stories to christen the list from you all as well.

Feedback would be nice, guys...let us know what you think


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