Blood of My Enemy

This is a non-consensual gay erotic story, all characters are 18 or over.

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General Roaks was nothing like Logan had expected... just seeing the man before him, gagged and bound, bloody and injured yet staring up at him with an unwavering steadiness... it was almost intriguing.

Logan had cut down countless men in his years as a soldier, and many more after that as general of the great Draxtion imperial army-- which belonged to one of the most formidable empires in the Southern Lands-- but Roaks had been a thorn in his side for much longer than Logan had anticipated.

Logan wasn't surprised that he finally had him in his grasp now, but it had taken longer than it should have.

Roaks' army hailed from Pevelia, a proud but modest kingdom located along the Southern Coast. The great Draxt Empire had had its sights set on the kingdom for the last century now... but it had been a little more difficult to seize than once thought, which was in large part thanks to Pevelia's surprisingly strategic general.

Roaks had been a nightmare to deal with, his humble army holding the grand scale of Draxtion soldiers at bay for years.

Yes... Roaks was a surprising man, and even now, forced to his knees before the great general of Draxt, he had a calmness to him that left Logan a little unnerved.

Roaks wasn't glaring up at him, wasn't biting at the bit or struggling with his bindings, but he didn't look resigned in his position either.

Logan was more than a little intrigued. He had been impressed by Roaks over the years, but he thought for sure that once the inevitable day came when he would defeat the Pevelian army and have the kingdom's savvy general in his hold, he would find the man to be no more interesting than all the rest.

And yet...

"How old are you, general?"

Logan found himself asking, reaching forward to tug the tight gag from his mouth. Roaks pressed his lips together for a moment, seemingly wetting his tongue before he replied.

"Twenty-five summers, sir."

His tone was matter-of-fact, and disarmingly polite-- not at all how one would expect a captured general of a defeated army to sound in front of their victorious enemy. Logan frowned, drawing in a slow breath as he contemplated the man who had given him hell for the last three long years of warfare.

"Quite young for a general, is it not?"

It was a barb, a slight one, but Roaks didn't take the bait, he just nodded once in reply.

"I didn't make general until I was at least thirty-three, and I was considered a runt even then."

Logan said with a condescending smirk. Roaks only nodded again in return and Logan tried not to sigh.

He was getting nothing from him-- he expected at least some show of defiance, some crack in the armour of indifference he was dressed in, and yet, he got nothing. It was maddening.

It was fascinating.

Logan regarded the man, taking in his weather-worn face and dirty ashen blond hair. He was tanned-- which was the case for most Pevelians, given their warm coastal location-- but his eyes were bright emerald green, unusual among the many shades of blue common among his people.

"Both your parents hail from Pevelia?"

Roaks took only a moment to answer, never missing a beat as he replied steadily.

"I am orphaned, sir."

Logan pursed his lips, still stuck in those green eyes.

"A parentless whelp, aye? It is a wonder you made general at all."

If Logan's words stung, Roaks didn't show it.

At this point, Logan couldn't tell if he was more irritated or intrigued. So far Roaks was nothing like what he expected, and the more he prodded, the more uneasy he became with the picture before him.

This is the man who had bested him for so long? An orphan of only twenty-five summers? Logan should have been ashamed of himself.

"These marks, they are Draxtion born?"

Logan murmured and reached forward, a twitch of a smile curling his lips when Roaks actually flinched at his touch. It was just a fraction of a flinch, just a flicker of a reaction, but it was something. Logan let his fingers trace along the many scars adorning the man's face, only pausing when Roaks finally replied.

"Some, sir, yes."

"Some?"

Logan prodded, trailing his fingers down and across a thick and jagged scar that ran across the length of his left collarbone.

"This one? Not of a sword, aye?"

Roaks nodded, the action a little stiff.

"No, sir, a bread knife."

Logan frowned, his thumb brushing over the scar, feeling the ugly raised edges under his skin. Whoever had stitched it had done a poor job of it.

He finally pulled back, eyeing the way Roaks eased a little now that he was no longer touching him.

"It's late, and you have a long journey ahead of you to Draxt, General Roaks."

Logan murmured, his own words bringing a strange smile to his face. Something about the idea of having Roaks in his homeland, under his leash...

He went to tug the gag back in place, but Roaks spoke then, his unprompted words easily pausing Logan's hand.

"I need to piss, sir."

Logan assessed the words, eyes dragging down the general's bound form.

"You will not be untied."

He warned, as if Roaks declaration was some kind of ruse to escape his bindings.

Roaks just nodded.

With a shrug, Logan tugged the man to his feet and lead him to a small clearing of trees not too far from camp, the quiet area easily lit up under the bright of the full moon. The night air was warm and balmy, typical of the Pevelian climate. Logan was used to it now, but he preferred the more bitter nights of Draxt.

Roaks didn't struggle when Logan undid his trousers and shoved them down to his knees, but he did stiffen when Logan suddenly grabbed for his cock.

"Look at this-- now this is what we call a Draxt cock, General!"

Logan bellowed, squeezing the surprisingly large member with a hearty chuckle.

It had always been an inside joke among Draxt soldiers that Pevelian cocks were small. He wasn't sure how much truth there was to it, but it had most likely started sometime after witnessing the kingdom's many nude sculptures set before the shoreline. Small-breasted women and men with tiny cocks looking out to the sea.

Perhaps the sculptures more so told of Pevelia's own ideas of beauty than the reality of its people, but the running joke never died.

"Go on, piss then, we don't have all night."

Logan said with a smirk, squeezing Roaks thick girth in amusement.

When Roaks didn't move, Logan looked across to the man, his eyes widening in shock when he saw a blooming scarlet flush starting to colour his cheeks.

"Are you embarrassed, General?"

Logan scoffed, unable to take his eyes off the man's face, too mesmerised in the first real show of emotion behind his stony mask of indifference.

"Ashamed of this big cock, or of my hand upon it?"

He drawled, squeezing again roughly, his smile only widening when Roaks' jaw clenched.

"We don't have all night, General. If you don't piss now, you'll have to wait until morning."

Logan moved his other hand, gliding it under Roaks shirt, feeling the taught wall of muscle of his stomach beneath his fingers tremor before he pressed down hard against it.

Roaks let out a strangled shout, and then suddenly he was pissing, letting out a hot yellow stream that Logan could feel through the hand he held on Roaks' cock.

Logan couldn't stop staring at the man's face, couldn't stop watching the deep-seated shame that echoed there as he pissed with the help of another man's hand.

Logan didn't even wait for him to finish, the overwhelming urge to see that expression staring helplessly up at him too much to bear.

He forced Roaks to kneel, fueled by the unguarded grunt that left the man's mouth when his naked knees hit the forest floor.

The last drops of piss splattered across Logan's boots but he didn't care. With one hand in Roaks hair and another unsheathing his hunting blade, he angled the man's face up.

"If I feel teeth, this blade with find its way straight into your gullet."

Roaks didn't seem to comprehend the threat, not until the tip of the knife was pressed just below his jaw, and Logan's cock was at his lips.

There was no more warning, no preamble as Logan thrust forward, this raging lust that had caught him so quickly by surprise now taken out on the man that had been the sole cause of it.

It was nothing like the cock-suckings he had had from past whores or pent up soldiers willing to do so in return for the same. This was something different, something less intimate yet somehow more passionate than anything he had had before.

He was fucking the young general's mouth like a sailor who hadn't fucked anything in months, brutalising his throat with vicious thrusts that left Roaks no choice but to gag endlessly with each thrust.

Logan groaned at the sight of Roaks before him, eyes bloodshot and leaking, copious amounts of saliva drooling from his swollen lips. It was obscene.

It was--

"Fuck!"

Loagn grunted loudly, shoving Roaks face right up against his crotch until he could feel the outline of his cock inside of the man's throat.

Obscene.

He came hard and guttural, rocking into Roaks spasming gullet, feeling his panicked throat massaging his twitching cock so wonderfully.

When he finally pulled out and released the man, Roaks hit the ground like a rock, gasping and choking in air as he writhed in his bindings on the grass.

The sight should have been shocking, should have made Logan shake his head in distaste... but it wasn't. Seeing the man who had led the small army of Pevelia into countless battles with Draxt-- who had managed to keep his proud kingdom free for so many years of war and bloodshed... who had conversed with him so steadily whilst injured and bound and captured...

Seeing him like this now-- because of Logan.

It made Logan want to mess him up even more.

Roaks' trousers were still at his knees, leaving Logan to feast on the sight of his thick naked muscled thighs. Logan moved forward, shoving the man onto his belly easily, his own large form sinking over him and pushing him into the ground. He reached up, fingers forcing into Roaks still gasping mouth to collect some of the come and spit still mingling there.

He quickly swore and yanked his fingers back though when Roaks suddenly bit down hard, tearing a nasty gash in Logan's thumb.

He couldn't fault the man, couldn't even grow angry at the assault. It was just another thing Logan had to add to the list of things that he found so intriguing about the general.

"Well, that works too."

He chuckled breathily, prying open the muscled cheeks of the man's ass and smearing his bloody thumb over his closed pucker.

The small smearing of spit and come he had managed to get before the bite helped ease the way, his bleeding thumb finally sinking into the tight hole with the right amount of pressure.

Feeling Roaks struggle breathlessly beneath him was surprisingly addictive, and at one point he even paused the preparations just to feel him writhing against his hardening cock.

When he could finally wait no longer, he wiped the rest of what he had over his waiting cock, then let his still bleeding thumb drip over it until he was satisfied.

The first thrust inside his tight heat had him seeing stars, and hearing Roaks guttural cry almost pushed him over the edge.

He paused and puffed, letting them both get used to the feel of it before he finally hooked his right arm around Roaks neck as an anchor, and drove himself into him in another brutal thrust.

He fucked him hard and slow, enjoying each defeated cry from Roaks, feeling how tight and hot and amazing he was around his thick cock.

He was perfect.

"Do you have any more for me? I didn't let you finish before, did I?"

Logan chuckled, using his strength to pull them both up until Roaks' face was in the dirt and his ass was in the air. Logan moved his other arm around until he had it wrapped around Roaks' taut abdomen, and he quickly tightened his hold.

Roaks cried out but didn't move, and it wasn't until Logan sped up, fucking him brutally fast and squeezing his belly as he did, that Roaks finally lost his battle.

The sound he made as the rest of his bladder released was too much for Logan. Roaks' cock was spurting hot piss as he was fucked, his dick flinging back and forth under the brutal fucking, and Logan lost it. He came with a shout, shooting his seed deep into his enemy's belly, filling his guts until he had nothing more left to give.

All his energy left him at that moment, and he slumped atop of Roaks, causing them both to meet the hard ground with a thud.

Logan was groaning, his hips stuttering a little against Roaks' sweaty flesh, enjoying the way the other man trembled and groaned weakly at each little movement.

When he finally gathered enough energy to pull himself off the man, he sucked in a breath at what he saw.

Roaks, laying there shuddering and panting, almost entirely clothed except for his naked ass-- cheeks a little red from being rutted against and his gaping hole all swollen and puffy, leaking Logan's seed... it was a mesmerising sight.

Logan felt his spent cock painfully twitch in interest, and he had to look away lest he be tempted to go another round. His dick would probably fall off if he tried it, there was no way he could survive doing it again so soon after.

Later.

"Alright, we better get you cleaned up, General."

Logan sighed, not wanting to get up but knowing that if he spent much more time here one of his men would probably come looking for him, if they weren't already with all the noise he and Roaks had made before.

Roaks tried to fight him when Logan pulled him up, the effort was valiant but with his arms still bound and his pants down to his knees, he didn't stand much of a chance.

Logan half-dragged half-carried him to the little river nearby their camp that Logan and his soldiers used to bath and water themselves.

When he set him down, Roaks winced, legs curling into his stomach as he groaned. Logan set to work, using his hunting blade to cut through the man's clothes, only to then kick himself once it was done-- Roaks' fine Pevelian General uniform could have been a fun edition to some future play... Logan had always admired it from afar, eyes catching on the strange combination on tan and blue-- maybe it was a representation of the ocean their kingdom boarded?

Yes, it was a shame to ruin the uniform...

But then, perhaps Logan could get a seamstress to work some magic on it once they were back in Draxt.

"There we go, relax, General."

Logan hushed, holding Roaks down as he started to wash him. He was aiming to be gentle, but the man wasn't making it easy. Logan sunk a finger slowly inside of him, surprised to find that Roaks was tight again.

He fingered him a little, enjoying the way Roaks grunted and clenched around him, then he carefully started to clean him out. Logan moved to his body next, speeding up the bath when he noticed a deep shiver taking root in the general.

He dried him off with the leftover scraps of his clothing and pulled him to his feet.

It was a tricky walk back to camp, Roaks was in no condition to walk far but he refused to comply with Logan's attempt to carry him. It was amusing to see him struggle so hard to stay steady and calm in the face of everything that had happened, but it was also hard not to be a little turned on.

By the time Logan got him back to his tent, Roaks could no longer stand on his own and his shivering had gotten worse.

"Alright, come here, I'll warm you up."

Logan set him down on his bedding and pulled him close, enjoying the feel of his damp naked flesh against his body. Logan stripped off next, his skin warm from the balmy weather, contrasting with the chill of Roaks' own body.

He rubbed against him, tempted to unbind the man so that he could move his tied hands from behind his back and press up closer behind him-- but he quickly decided that that wasn't a good idea. He had taken Roaks in as many ways as someone could be taken, but that didn't for one minute mean that if given the opportunity, Roaks couldn't kill him where he lay.

Logan wasn't ready to go another round, but that didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around the man and nudging his half-hard cock between his cheeks. He didn't do anything, just kept it there, nestled in the heat of his ass.

He felt Roaks' tense body shudder, his jaw clenching at the way Logan's hands grazed down his hips before grasping a handful of his ass and squeezing.

"I will..."

Roaks suddenly started, his voice croaked and wrecked. Something about the sound of it made Logan's cock harden.

Roaks swallowed dryly then started again.

"I will end your life for this."

He promised in words that were cracked and distorted, but there was no missing his meaning.

Logan heeded the warning, pressing a kiss to the side of Roaks neck and grinning when the general instantly tensed up.

"We are going to have a lot of fun in Draxt, you and I."

Logan said, letting his own promise sit heavy in the air as he pulled Roaks closer, cock sliding up and down in between the cheeks of the man's gorgeous ass.

He just felt too good against him.

Perhaps just one more round couldn't hurt...

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I hope you enjoyed this story, please feel free to leave a comment, I read and appreciate them all. Also feel free to leave any ideas/requests for future works, I can't promise I'll be able to write it but if I feel inspired I just might. Thanks :)