Fandom: Blackadder
Pairing: Lord Melchett/Prince Ludwig a/k/a Flossy
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 400
Warning: Bestiality, but it's canon bestiality.
Notes:This one's for Beta Goddess Carol as we manage to get one more Hugh Laurie character into the
mmom! Thanks also to 
drunken_hedghog for added inspiration. Summary: Missing scene from "Chains" in Blackadder II
Lord Melchett sighed forlornly in the dank gloom of the dungeon where he had been imprisoned.
Blackadder had finally silenced his incessant sniping and seemed able to sleep even under these horrifying circumstances. He was the kind of self-serving blighter who’d find a way to survive to the end of time itself, unencumbered by morality or self-respect, whereas Melchett could find no peace.
His beloved monarch had said most emphatically that she would pay no more ransoms and the initial amusement of Blackadder’s embarrassment at their current situation hardly made up for their impending executions.
Beyond the fear of torture and death was the sheer trauma of finding his beloved Flossy, companion of his Cornish schooldays, first love of his life, and learning the awful truth. Merely a subterfuge by the dastardly Ludwig. The fiendish contraption he was held in kept his hands from any contact with his body, but his manhood stirred at the memory of those downy limbs. His hips strained upward as they had when he had pressed against her.
Melchett’s eyes closed tightly and even though he couldn’t honestly remember Flossy’s facial features all that well, he was certain she could not have had orbs of such a stunning blue, nor have spoken with a German accent.
“Hewwo, Melchett,”
“Ludwig, you bastard,”
“Shhhhhhh. Let’s us not vake your sleeping fweind.”
“What do you want.”
“Vat vould you give for me to unchain your hands wight now?”
There was no point in lying. The Hun clearly knew all.
“I’ll tell you anything. Just please allow me to…”
“Ja, ja. I get ze painting.”
With a cruel chuckle, Ludwig undid the chains and the top of the confinements, giving Melchett access to his own needy flesh.
“Baaaaaaa, baaaaaa,” the prince crooned, breath hot in Melchett’s ear as he brought himself to completion, struggling to control his gasps so as not to make himself the target of more of Blackadder’s insensitive jibes.
“Vewwy intewesting, Lord Melchett. I zink perhaps I shall wet you wive after all.”
Melchett found himself unable to protest when the prince once again chained his hands and closed the box. Ludwig left him with a particularly evil glower and a final ‘baaaaa” wondering what exactly the morning held in store. Would he truly be spared and if so, for what?
Like private parts to the gods are we; they play with us for their sport.
