Given to the Enemy

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A young prince finds himself the spoils of war.
3.6k words
4.31
63.5k
57

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 08/09/2012
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Temprance
Temprance
143 Followers

*Warning: This story contains gay content in a fantasy world. Any negative comments about the main characters sexual orientation will be deleted.*

-----

This wasn't a place I wanted to be. One this side of the war. We were losing. Actually, I'm pretty sure that we had lost. My father had received word that the last of our defenses had failed. The Sygrians were headed to the castle. My brother and I stood behind my father as he looked out the window behind his throne, waiting for the enemy warriors to approach. It took hours before we saw the first signs of them.

"How did it get this way, my sons?" My father asked, defeated. We had warred for almost five years. We stood equal on the battlefield until the last 10 months. The enemy finally broke through and started destroying our warriors, getting closer and closer to the castle. I longed to be on the field, but I'm still recovering from an injury. An injury that has put me off the field for over 5 months. If the war had lasted another month, I would have been out there with my warriors giving my last breath. But I'm stuck here, watching as the enemy approaches.

The men outside stopped at the outer wall of the castle. A small troop of men rode inside, white flag raised.

"We shall meet them," my father said, turning to clasp my older brother's shoulder before turning and leading us out to meet them. As we made our journey out to meet with the victor, I feared what they would demand of us. The death of my father? Of all three of us? Or worse, sending us into slave camps? There were other rumors. Those they found pleasing, they sent as another sort of slave where women were sent. At least I didn't face that. I hoped.

My father stopped just short of the men awaiting us. Two horse lengths were all that separated us from our enemy. My hand itched to draw a weapon, but I overcame the urge and let my arms rest at my sides. My father was dressed grandly, in velvet, befitting his station as king. As was my brother, as both prince and next in line for the throne. I was dressed in leathers. Leathers we used to train in. I felt out of place next to my brother and father. I felt more like a bodyguard than a prince.

A horse carrying who was probably the commander of the enemies troops, stepped forward slightly.

"Greetings, King Jarius. We have come to discuss terms. Shall we look over what my king has sent?"

At my father's nod, the man dismounted. He wore leather pants that showcased his thick, muscled legs. A leather vest with metal plating to protect his stomach, his arms bare except for wrist gauntlets with his king's crest on them. He was covered in blood and gore. I was envious. He fought with his men until the last. As he strode past me, I realized he was almost 5 inches taller than me. He was strong and built of muscle. I know knew I wouldn't have survived him if we met in battle. He had decades to build muscle, while I had just over one under my belt. But I still would have rather met him on the battlefield than here, as he stood victorious over us.

He nodded to his men and two men stepped forward, while the rest took charge of their horses and turned to go back to their men. I was the last to turn and follow our enemy and my father as they made their way to find a private space to discuss terms.

I turned to enter the room with my father and the commander's men, but my father stopped me. I was to wait outside, along with the commander's men. I hid the hurt inside and stepped to stand on the opposite of the corridor of the commander's men. Hours passed as they deliberated. Never once did anyone in that room raise their voice. We heard nothing outside. The commander's men stood still, never moving, never growing restless. I tried to mirror their behavior, but it was hard. I wanted to demand to know what was going on, I wanted to be in that room with my brother.

As it grew dark outside, my father finally emerged from the room. But it was only long enough to send me on an errand. As if I weren't a prince, as if I were a servant, not his son. I was to bring them candles to read by and to have the servants light the torches in the corridors, we would have a feast this night. I dutifully retrieved the candles and relayed the king's message. Returning to the room, I knocked and waited for someone to open the door. It was my brother. He took the candles from me and shut the door without a word.

I couldn't stay here. I left the corridor and turned to the feast hall. Our servants were in a frenzy trying to get everything ready for a feast tonight. I didn't step all the way in. I was able to glance in without being seen. Inside were, I assumed, what was left of our warriors. They all knelt, stripped naked, arms tied behind their back and blindfolded. This would have been my fate if I had survived the battlefield. The men had gone mostly ignored, but their cheeks were tinged with blushes of embarrassment. I decided that I didn't want to find out what happened next. I would flee the castle, this very moment. I turned and ran into what felt like a solid wall. Only, it was a well muscled chest. When I looked up, the commander was looking down at me. His face blank, unreadable. Then slowly a smile spread across his face.

I stepped around him, looking for my father. The corridor behind him as empty. My heart sank. I took a deep breath and took another step away, only to have the commander reach out and grab my wrist.

"Where are you going, young prince?" His voice held no menace, it was rich and deep. Pleasant, even. If we were in any other situation, I might have wanted to hear what he had to say.

"To find my father," my voice came out shaky. I had hoped the commander hadn't noticed, but when I looked back, I knew he did.

"No need. He is on his way to discuss matters with you." The commander's men were suddenly behind me. He let go of my wrist, motioned for me to follow him, and entered the feast hall. I had no desire to enter, but his men shuffled me inside. My father sat at the right of his usual seat. Where my brother normally would sit. My brother sat at his right. The commander sat in the king's chair and motioned me into my normal chair. I had no idea why I would sit here, my brother should have since my father was in his place.

I sat, drawing the chair as far away from the commander as manners would allow. His lips quirked up but he dismissed the action and turned to my father. I sat, unable to look up at my fellow warriors. I stared at my lap instead. Finally, my father cleared his throat, drawing my attention.

"Kregan, we have reached terms. Commander Xaven, may I talk to my son in private?"

The commander, Xaven, studied me a moment before nodding his approval. My father lead my outside, unescorted, to tell me the terms.

"My son, this is difficult. There are many terms. But terms that will spare many lives. Your brother and I will remain here. I will no longer be king," he sounded bitter. "But we will be part of the counsel that will be put in place of the role of king and queen."

"We are to stay here?" I breathed a sigh of relief. I had imagined awful things that might have befallen us. But as I felt relieved, my father tensed.

"The rest of the counsel will be made of up men from Syrgia. Your brother and I will no longer prominent rulers in this kingdom. As for you, the commander has asked for a personal... offering."

"And what is he wanting?" I was pretty sure I didn't want to know. I didn't want to be here, my father looking at me as if I was already dead to him. As if I was lost, beyond his reach.

"You. You will be his personal slave. To do anything he bids of you."

My vision blurred. "W-what?"

It was just as bad as I had feared. I would be collared and chained and be made to do anything. Hard labor, becoming a stable boy, cleaning out his chamber pot, anything. The fear I felt must have shown on my face. My father reached out to me, as if to comfort me. I dodged his hand and stepped out of his reach.

"How could you? How could you just give me away?" I vowed I wouldn't let my father see me cry. It hurt, him giving me away, as if I were a toy, or an animal.

I didn't let him speak, I turn and ran. I ran as hard and fast as I could. I ran out of the castle, bypassing the stables that were over run with the enemy, past the smithy and towards the east gate. I ran through the darkness, making barely any sounds as my feet carried me towards freedom. If I hadn't been blinded by hurt and betrayal, I might have seen the camps that Sygrians had set up just outside our gates. I hadn't made it far out of the gates when I found myself face down in the dirt, with several men on top of me.

I struggled against them, but they had me secure and on my feet in no time. They laughed and joked as they drug me back to the gates, where to my dismay, the commander waited for me. I couldn't meet his eyes. I had gone from proud warrior to coward in less than a day. I stared at the ground as we approached him. His men hold me securely as he steps behind me. I feel him wrap leather around my wrists to bind them behind my back before stepping in front of me. As soon as the commander took possession of me, his men returned to their victory activities.

With a firm grip on my wrists, the commander led me back to the feast room. When we entered, my eyes automatically searched out my father. Both my father and brother were missing from the room. I was glad. Right now, I never wanted to lay eyes on my father again. But a small part of me wanted him to come and save me.

I was forced to kneel in the center of the room. The commander's high ranking men were in the middle of their feast. Their eyes trained on me. I started to panic as I realized I would be the entertainment. The commander, stood before me wielding a long knife. He cut my shirt from me, ignoring my pleading eyes as he stripped my shirt from my chest. When the knife made its way to my leather pants, I squeezed my eyes shut while chanting "Please no, please no" over and over again, barely a whisper.

I felt cool air hit my limp cock and cheers as my pants were cut away. I kept my head down, eyes shut as I felt his hands exploring my skin. My legs, up to my hips to my stomach. He traced each outline on my abs before pinching a nipple. I gasped at the pain. The commander raised my chin to make me meet his eyes. He help up a goblet of wine to my lips and poured its contents into my mouth.

"Let me show you what kind of service you will be performing for me." The commander turned my head to my fellow warriors. They had their blindfolds removed. They would watch whatever befell their prince. "First, your punishment for running away."

A padded footstool was placed before me. I wasn't quite sure what he wanted me to do with it. Before I could figure it out, he turned me around, placed it in front of me and pushed me so my stomach rested on it. I blushed more as I realized my ass was now facing the men. I cried out as the commander's hand came down hard on my ass. I heard a few of the men laugh as the commander spanked me as if I were a child, not a warrior. Maybe I deserved that for trying to run instead of face my sentence with my head up. My ass burned and each new slap hurt worse than the one before. I was crying silent tears when, finally, he stopped.

His hand smoothed up my ass, down my thighs as I calmed down. A finger grazed my crack and I tensed. I realized that sometime through the spanking, I had grown hard.

"Are you ready, young prince, to know what your service will entail?" I shook my head as the commander laughed and helped back onto my knees. The commander stared down at my cock before trailing a finger from base to head.

"It seems you are ready," he whispered in my ear.

"Please," I croaked. My plea went unanswered. The commander untied the laces in his pants and pulled out his cock. My eyes bulged at the sight. It was thick and long. Before I could react, he fisted his hand in my hair and forced his cock into my mouth. Tears stuck my eyes as he thrust brutally against my face and down my throat. I gagged as he hit my throat but he kept thrusting.

Their were a few men I could see with their cocks out, stroking themselves, as they watched their commander fuck my mouth. I thought he was going to come down my throat, but he pulled back, pushed me back on the footstool. I was breathing hard, trying to catch my breath, when I felt something cool being massaged around my opening. I clenched and started to struggle.

"It will hurt more if you fight it," he said as he leaned over me to whisper in my ear. I trembled, but managed to stay still as he put his finger inside and spreading the coolness inside. He worked in another finger, increasing the burning sensation. He scissored his fingers before adding a third. I felt unable to breath as he slowly fucked me with his fingers. I felt relief when he removed them, but not for long. I felt his cock nudge my opening.

"No! Please!" I gasped as he thrust inside. Slowly, he worked himself in until he was fully seated in my ass. He had his hand between my shoulders, keeping me secure to the stool as I tried to buck him off. It hurt, it felt like I was being ripped apart. I could barely hear the laughter and jeering from the men. My ears rang as my ass stretched. Slowly, the commander started to withdraw and thrust forward. Slowly, his thrusting gained speed. My cock had gone limp as my ass burned and stretched. And then he hit something inside me. Something that made me gasp. But not in pain. Slowly, I could feel myself get hard again as the commander kept hitting that spot inside me.

The commander lifted my chest up until my back rested against his chest, my legs open on either side of this as he knelt between my legs. He grabbed my cock and started to stoke me in the same rhythm he fucked me with. My hands grazed his cock as he thrust inside of me. My balls tightened, on the edge of orgasm as he stroked me and hit that perfect spot inside me. I came with a hoarse cry, my come landing on his hand and my abs and chest. The commander shoved me forward, my face planted on the floor with my ass up in the air as he renewed his efforts and started to grunt behind me. He thrust, hard, into me until finally he pulled out and came all over my ass and back.

I couldn't move. My ass hurt, I was starting to get sticky, I could feel his come leaking down my ass to my thighs. His feet came into my view. He helped me sit back onto my knees. My men stared at me wide eyed. The fear I saw there matched my own as I realized that they were in store for the same thing. Men were up and examining and picking out men. The commander led me back to my fathers former chair and sat me on his lap. My legs splayed open, with me draped on his chest. I watched as the men were being used around the room. Some sucking cock, some being fucked. Others had a cock in their mouth while being fucked. The feast room started to smell of sex and sweat as I watched them use my men.

"This is the price of your father's freedom. He took it gladly, asking only that he keep his oldest son with him, untouched." He stared at him, tears in my eyes. He looked back at me, not in victory, but in sympathy. I had trouble believing he was sorry my father gave me up along with the rest of his army.

"I am not sorry I have you. But I am sorry that your father didn't fight for you, like you wanted."

Xaven took his mug and drank deeply of my father's wine. No, the former king's wine. His other hand grazed my cock, stirring it to life. He took my balls and massaged them gently, before trailing his hand up to give my cock a stroke and onward to my chest. He set his wine down and both hands went to my nipples. He pinched and pulled at them, getting me worked up. I ground my hips against his growing cock as he played with my nipples. He lifted the mug again and set it before my lips. I drank it all down. It tasted different than the other wine he put to my lips. I glanced a question at him.

"The other was laced with an aphrodisiac. I prefer my men willing."

One hand left, to signal one of the servant girls. I dropped my eyes as she approached and cleared away the space before us.

"Just leave everything off to the side."

Xaven stood me up and turned me to face him. His lips captured mine and I could taste the wine on his tongue. I opened my mouth for his tongue. His hands went to my bound wrists and soon my wrists were free. I wasn't sure what to do with my hands. Slowly, cautiously, I laid them on his chest. My hands explored the ridges of his abs, the muscles on his back before he finally laid me flat on the table.

I gasped as he poured the wine on my chest and cock. He pulled my newly hard cock into his mouth and sucked on it, hard. My back bowed, coming off the table, my hands fisting in his hair. He removed himself from my hands and cock. He placed my hands to grip the ledge of the table above my head.

"Do not move them," he warned me, before going back to lick my balls. I tried to sit still for him, but I was lost in sensations. Who cares if he drugged me? I was burning with lust and needed him. Anything. He brought my knees to my chest and I blushed when I realized he could see everything. Cock, balls and my back entrance. His hands gripped my ass as he tilted my hips up. I gasped and groaned when I felt his tongue touch my entrance. He swirled his tongue over sensitive flesh before pushing inside. It was no where near as thick as his cock, so I felt no burning. Instead, I felt pleasure and started to ground my hips on his face. He licked his way back up to my balls where he licked and nibbled as he prepared my opening with this finger.

I was restless as I pushed down on his finger.

"Please, no more waiting," I pleaded. He removed his finger and his cock took its place. He worked his way inside me, gently, as he angled it so he hit that magical spot again. I was panting and moaning, clinging to the table with a death grip. His pace was tortuously slow. I finally looked away to see my men were also enjoying themselves, servicing the enemy however it was asked of them. My eyes wondered around the room and landed on the face of my brother who was standing at the king's former entrance. His face showed both revulsion and envy.

I tore my gaze away from my brother as Xaven finally picked up speed. As he thrust faster, I pushed my hips into him, making him go deeper inside me. I came with a shout moments before he came inside me. He collapsed on my chest, breathing heavy as he regained his control. After a few minutes, he pulled up to rest his weight on his forearms and stared down at me, our noses almost touching.

"You are mine now, young prince."

It took a while to figure out what I was feeling. But when I did, it felt like I belonged. And I was okay with that.

Temprance
Temprance
143 Followers
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3 Comments
TomdullyTomdullyover 1 year ago

I hate fag stories,sorry but that's NOT my thing

stripespuppystripespuppyover 10 years ago
wow

Not normally a big fan of such a story, but I wanted to give it a chance. Glad I did! It was a wonderful read!

AntoinetteMAntoinetteMover 11 years ago

Super hot, and I like how you managed to squeeze in a good amount of character development for both the Prince and the Commander.

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