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<br>
<br>NOTE: With a double post for Chapter 6, this story has branched in two directions. the primary (Branch 1) is archived here <a href="http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=39995">http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=39995</a> the second branch <a href="http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=40060">http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=40060</a> You will find all versions <a href="http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/series.php?seriesid=456">http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/series.php?seriesid=456</a> <br>
<br>The Rejected Lover Affair (Branch 2)<br>by round robin authors<br><br>Fandom: Man From UNCLE<br>Pairing/Characters: [Man From Uncle] Napoleon Solo (Robert Vaughn), Illya Kuryakin (David McCallum) and Alexander Waverly (Leo G. Carroll) <br>
Portrayed by: above<br>Category: Hetero, slash A Wandering Wren. this is a story that anyone can add to at any tme. Please consider adding a part.<br>Rating: FRAO<br>Status: wandering<br>Spoilers: not as yet<br>Series/Sequel: no<br>
Brief Summary: One of the agents is....misplaced<br>Warnings: abuse under the disguise of BDSM, torture, angst, abduction<br>Notes/acknowledgments: written to bring attention to the new <a href="http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ManFromUNCLE_Fantasies">http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ManFromUNCLE_Fantasies</a> list<br>
General thanks to all of you folks who are requesting short fics and improvs in the various fandoms. You're keeping the words flowing.<br>Disclaimers: MfU belongs to its creator. The story comes frm the minds and souls of the writers.<br>
Archive: on makebelieve<br><br><br><br><br><br>Part 13<br>by Miss De Meana<br><a href="mailto:missdemeana2@yahoo.com">missdemeana2@yahoo.com</a><br><br>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.<br>
<br>"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.<br><br>"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."<br>
<br>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.<br>
<br>"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....<br>
<br>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."<br>
<br>"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?"<br><br>
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?"<br><br>"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."<br>
<br>Napoleon smiled. "You two should get along just fine."<br><br>Fontaine chuckled. "Humour. Very good." He wagged a finger before Napoleon's face. "You're going to need it in the next few days."<br>
<br>Napoleon didn't like the sound of that. "Oh? Care to let me in on your plans?"<br><br>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?<br>
<br>"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."<br>
<br>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?"<br><br>"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."<br>
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."<br>
<br>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.<br>
<br>Somehow.<br><br>end part 13<br><br><br><br>Part 14<br>by Miss De Meana<br><a href="mailto:missdemeana2@yahoo.com">missdemeana2@yahoo.com</a><br><br>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?<br>
<br>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.<br>
<br>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.<br>
<br>"So beautiful. So perfect."<br><br>Illya was tired of the same old rhetoric. "Just get on with it!" he snapped.<br><br>Fontaine chuckled. "So impatient."<br><br>Illya hung his head, anger colouring his tone. "You're getting stale, Paul. We've played this game before."<br>
<br>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.<br>
<br>"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.<br><br>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.<br>
<br>"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!"<br>
<br>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."<br>
<br>Ivy appeared in the pool of light. "My fantasy is to watch Kuryakin slowly and painfully die."<br><br>Illya felt a little satisfaction as Fontaine's smile faded. "I told you, nothing is to happen to him."<br>
<br>Ivy laughed. "Happen to him? Look at him! He's been bruised, whipped and cut."<br><br>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?"<br>
<br>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."<br><br>Fontaine's stance relaxed. "Just so we understand each other."<br>
<br>"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?"<br><br>end part 14<br><br><br>
Part 15<br>by PEJA<br><a href="mailto:makebelievearchive@gmail.com">makebelievearchive@gmail.com</a><br><br>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.<br>
<br>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.<br>
<br>"But...?"<br><br>"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."<br>
<br>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.<br>
<br>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.<br><br><br>end part 15<br>***<br><br>Okay MfU authors, or even those who just wannabe, how about adding a few lines. <br>
<br>oh and remember to come play on <a href="http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ManFromUNCLE_Fantasies">http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ManFromUNCLE_Fantasies</a> would love to see some stories to christen the list from you all as well.<br>
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