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Spoils of War

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 “The former king,” the guard captain said, and dumped the bound human at Aubron’s feet. Vann landed on his knees, and looked furious at being there, but didn’t attempt to rise with his hands bound behind him. Bruises and stubble marked his rugged face, and his clothes were none too clean.

“Kill me now,” Vann said. “Don’t drag it out.”

Aubron descended from his throne and examined the man, tilting up his chin to see the color of his eyes, a clear gray like the winter sky. “That would be wasteful,” he said. “My court has been these long weeks without any entertainment except the clashing of swords. But now they have you.”

“I’m not afraid,” Vann said, raising his chin, but the stiffness of his body belied the words.

Aubron snapped his fingers. “Take him away. Clean him up. Bring him back when he won’t disgrace my court with his presence.”

The evening meal was served in the meantime, small dishes passed on plates and wine poured liberally, his courtiers sprawling on couches or heaps of pillows strewn about the room. Aubron had ordered the hulking trestle tables and benches removed. They would dine like gentlemen, not like these human barbarians who had made the mistake of encroaching on faerie lands.

The humans had been driven far from the faerie rings, now, and Aubron intended to use this human palace for his summer revels. In the winter, he would leave a garrison and retreat through the ring to the warmer, more colorful lands of Faerie, but for now, he was enjoying the rewards of conquest.

Speaking of which, he thought, as the guards brought Vann back in. The man was shaven — not by choice, Aubron suspected from the nicks and scratches on his cheeks —and well-scrubbed, smelling now of the oils of the bath. He was walking, this time, though his hands were still bound behind him.

Aubron leaned back on his couch. “Kneel,” he said.

Vann knelt, an awkward process with his hands tied behind his back. The guards made no move to help him. “I’m your prisoner,” he said, his chin up. “If you’re a man of honor, you’ll grant me merciful treatment or an honorable death.”

“You are my property,” Aubron corrected. “And your game of honor means nothing to me. I intend to enjoy you. Strip him,” he said to the guards, and watched in enjoyment as they did so, cutting the shirt off him to leave his hands tied behind him.

His skin was unevenly tanned, his belly and thighs pale as if he kept them concealed always for modesty rather than lying naked in the sun. His face was flushed and unhappy, and he twisted his hips in a way that made Aubron think that he was modest indeed. 

Aubron sat up and reached out to run one finger down the length of the man’s shaft. The man tried to jerk back, but the guards held him. “I want to see it hard,” Aubron said.

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

“Would you not?” Aubron said, and poured a cup of the wine brought from Faerie. He lifted it to the man’s lips. “You must be thirsty.”

Caution should have ruled the man —surely he had heard stories about the food and drink of Faerie —but his lips were cracked and dry, and thirst clearly drove him. He bent his head and drained the cup as Aubron lifted it for him.

“It feels hot going down,” he muttered. “Am I poisoned?”

The wine was quick to work. Aubron could see Vann’s cock rising already, stiffening and flushing a deeper red.

Sweat broke out on Vann’s forehead, and he licked his lips. “What have you done to me?”

“The wine of Faerie has curious properties when drunk by mortals,” Aubron said. “The craving it induces will only worsen if it is satisfied.” He smiled in satisfaction at Vann’s appalled expression. “So restrain yourself if you can. The relief of spilling your seed in front of my court will be brief.”

He nodded to the guards, and they bent Vann over Aubron’s couch. The simplest dishes made the best beginning to a banquet, he felt. He parted his robes and slicked his own cock with oil, pouring from the bottle onto the small of Vann’s back so that it trickled down between his buttocks as well.

Vann made a noise at the feel of the trickling oil, and jerked his hips involuntarily. Aubron gave him a minute to accept how intense that sensation was at present, and then parted his buttocks without further preliminaries and thrust inside him. There was a murmur of laughter and calls of encouragement from the watching court.

“No, no,” Vann muttered, and Aubron ignored it until the words rose a note in desperation. “No, no, no.” The wine was working on him fully, now, setting his senses aflame and making ever thrust into him bring him closer to his first unwanted orgasm.

“Yes,” Aubron said, and hauled him up to turn him toward the watching courtiers, still impaled on Aubron’s cock. Someone whistled, clearly appreciating the show. Aubron wrapped his hand around Vann’s erection and began stroking him.

“I’m not about to—no, I won’t—”

Aubron thrust deeper, and stroked the unfortunate human’s cock faster, and felt the man’s whole body stiffen, every muscle clenched as he tried not to orgasm. He lifted the man’s cock to send the jet of semen spurting across the floor, winning laughter and cheers from the onlookers.

He kept thrusting, enjoying Vann’s writhing twists of his hips in overstimulated discomfort as he hammered against the sensitive place inside, and spent himself in a satisfied flood. He pulled out, holding Vann by the bound wrists to keep him from falling on his face.

“Bring me a cloth,” he said, snapping his fingers, and used the damp cloth to wipe his seed from the man’s thighs, working it well into the cleft of the man’s buttocks and then over the man’s cock. It was already stiffening again, and Vann gasped every time the cloth rubbed up and down the shaft. “You need to be fucked again, I imagine. I might be merciful and oblige.” He had no intention of doing so yet, but it would be entertaining to hear Vann beg.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Vann said, but his voice was unsteady.

“You are ill-mannered,” Aubron said. “I think you need a lesson in good behavior.” He had been expecting as much, and had tools ready to hand. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, showing the carved phallus to the man.

The man’s cheeks flushed a deeper red. “A thing such as women use when their husbands are away,” he muttered, winning more laughter from the courtiers.

“Wrong. It is for your education,” Aubron said, and oiled it. Vann tensed, bracing himself, which could only have made it more unpleasant as Aubron inserted the phallus slowly but insistently, working it into the man’s hole until the flared base would go no farther inside. He bound it in place with a leather strap, and smiled in satisfaction at his handiwork.

“I have a whim to have a cup-boy tonight,” he said, unbinding Vann’s hands as he spoke, and putting power behind the words. “Carry the wine to my guests, and refill their cups. Some may wish to take liberties with you. I will permit it.”

“And if I d-don’t?” The man had a strong will to be able to fight the compulsion to obey, even under the influence of the faerie wine. The strong ones were more entertaining to break.

“Drink,” he said firmly, holding up the cup again. The man turned his face away, but Aubron forced his chin back, and when the liquid touched his lips, he drank.

“Now do as you were instructed,” Aubron said, and Vann rose unsteadily. His first attempt to pick up the wine pitcher sent it clattering to the floor, his hands clearly numb from the bindings. There were shrieks of laughter, and someone demanded that he be made to lap it up.

“Kneel and clean up your mess,” Aubron said, certain that would be humiliation enough. Vann did so, badly, making it clear he had never cleaned up after himself in his life. He rose, then, and managed to take up another pitcher without dropping it.

Vann was a terrible servant. He poured the wine sloppily and without grace. Aubron expected he was distracted by the feel of the phallus inside him, shifting every time he took a step. Vann’s own cock was fully hard again, and twitched when he moved.

Here and there, one of the courtiers stopped Vann to play with his cock, and Vann’s expression grew more pained each time. Others insisted on making Vann drink from their cups, and then making him suck drops of wine from their fingers.

One of the young faerie gentlemen knelt up from the pillows with a mischievous smile when Vann reached him in his tour of the room and took the tip of Vann’s cock in his mouth, licking at his shaft.

“He’ll spill in your mouth if you do that,” Aubron said, judging from Vann’s expression that he was on the very edge of orgasm, red-faced and shaking with the effort to fight it.

The young man drew back with a frown. “Insolent slave, I didn’t say you could do that,” he said, and slapped Vann hard across the buttocks.

Vann doubled over with a moan, losing his battle for control in that instant, and spattered the floor with his semen as he came, untouched and clearly unsatisfied by the involuntary orgasm.

“I’ll see to his punishment,” Aubron said. “Come here and bend over the couch again.”

Vann did, his cock hardening again already. “I need something to fuck,” he said, as if he could not restrain the words.

“Kings get to fuck, not slaves,” Aubron said. “Slaves must learn their place.” He slapped Vann hard across the buttocks, and watched his hips jerk against the couch in response. He slapped him again and again, reddening his buttocks and driving the phallus deeper into him with each stroke. “Apologize for your insolence.”

“I’m — no, I won’t. I’m — I’m —” Aubron realized that Vann was rubbing himself off on the couch, using the overwhelming sensation to distract him from the urge to obey. He really would be an interesting pet, once he’d been well broken.

“Up,” Aubron said, hauling Vann up before he could bring himself momentary relief. He arranged Vann on the couch, hands bound behind him and ankles tied to the legs of the couch so that his knees were spread. “Now, stay like this for a while, until you’ve learned better manners.”

Aubron chatted for a while with the courtiers, and sampled the snacks being passed on platters. He drank himself, the wine not provoking overwhelming lust but ensuring that he had the stamina for the fucking he meant to do before the evening was over.

He watched Vann begin to shift his weight, the faerie wine burning in his human body driving him to seek the satisfaction of the phallus dragging against the sensitive place inside. Aubron reached over, idly, and took Vann’s cock in hand. Vann made a desperate noise. Aubron worked him, milking his cock, until finally he arched his hips and came with a groan.

The next time Vann grew hard, Aubron did it again, while having a light conversation with his seneschal about how to render the castle more inhabitable in damp weather. Vann panted as he neared his peak, breathing like a man at hard exercise, but managed to make no sound until the end. He cried out then, sharply, as a dribble of seed spurted from him, and Aubron wondered if being forced to come so many times was growing painful.

“Did that bring relief? Answer honestly.”

“No relief,” Vann said from between gritted teeth. He was hardening again already. Aubron waited this time until Vann was sweating and rocking back hard against the couch, trying to drive the phallus into himself, and then touched his cock with a featherlight caress. Vann whimpered and came again, a dry spasm this time, and then turned his face away, panting for breath.

The man was stubborn. There was something different in the way he began to shift his weight, though, a new and even more pained expression on his face. He rocked back and then stilled suddenly, straining as if trying to close his forcibly spread knees.

“Aubron,” Vann said finally, hoarsely, the first time he’d used Aubron’s name to his face.

“That’s ‘my lord Aubron,’ as you belong to me.”

“My lord Aubron,” Vann said, his voice low and urgent. “I’ve drunk too much wine.”

“Clearly,” Aubron said, and caressed the inside of Vann’s thigh.

“I mean, I need to piss,” he said, as if even admitting it humiliated him.

“When you apologize and address me courteously, and explain to me your place in my household, I may permit you to go out. Or else you will do it on the floor, like the untrained animal you are.”

It took the better part of an hour for Vann to break down, the sweat standing out on his face and his cheeks flushed scarlet, his hips shifting miserably, the phallus pressing against his sensitive places every time he moved. “Please, I can’t hold it,” he said hoarsely at last.

“You have my attention.” Aubron toyed with Vann’s hard phallus, making Vann screw up his face like he was being branded with hot irons.

“Please, my lord Aubron, I apologize for my insolence,” he said, the hoarse words tumbling out in a rush. “I am your property and your slave and I will crawl at your feet, but please don’t make me shame myself by pissing on the floor.”

“Untie him,” Aubron said. He waited for hope to light Vann’s face as the guards untied him and he stood, and then seized him by his bound hands. “Kneel over the couch,” he said, and Vann went down on his knees as if flung there, no resistance in him now to the command in Aubron’s voice.

“My lord—”

“You are my property and my slave, and I make no bargains with slaves,” Aubron said. He untied the thongs that secured the phallus, and slid it out. “It will go better for you if you learn that.”

Vann whimpered and began to pant for breath, shuddering with every touch. Aubron was beginning to feel an undeniable urgency himself after playing with the man for so long. He sheathed himself inside his former enemy without preliminaries, relishing the feeling of fucking him.

“Not this, too,” Vann groaned.

“Everything. I will have everything from you. I own you, and I will use you as I like,” Aubron said. He thrust harder, and Vann tensed under him, fighting with every shuddering breath for control, straining every muscle. Aubron could feel the violent tension break when Vann began to piss himself, the man’s unwilling relief at no longer needing to fight. It came in stuttering gushes, the man’s cock too hard to allow him to empty himself easily, and by the time the spasms stopped, Vann was breathing in broken sobs.

“You make a good plaything,” Aubron said. “I think I’ll keep you to serve at my table, and to fuck whenever I want.” His own breath was coming harder as he slammed himself into Vann again and again. “And have everything I want from you,” he said, and reached for Vann’s cock to work it.

Vann writhed as if the touch was unbearable, but in the end he arched his back and sobbed as he reached another peak, and then sagged under Aubron as if utterly exhausted.

“Tell me you belong to me,” Aubron demanded.

“I belong to you,” Vann managed, his voice breaking on the words.

Aubron rammed himself harder into the man, each thrust proving how completely he possessed him. When it came, his orgasm rocked him, and he felt deliciously shaky himself when he withdrew.

Having his former enemy so completely at his mercy, sprawled across the couch with his face tear-stained, utterly shamed and so satiated that his cock didn’t rise even when Aubron ran his fingers mercilessly down its length again — it was everything he could have wanted.

“Clean this mess up, and take him away,” he ordered the guards, shrugging off his outer robe for a clean one a servant handed him and reaching for cool water now rather than the heady wine. “He’s to serve again at table tomorrow night.”

He smiled at the sound of dismay Vann made as the guards hauled him up and took him out. Aubron made his way to another couch and reclined with his feet up. He deserved the rest, he felt; new slaves always took some effort to break, but in this case, he definitely felt it worth the trouble.