Not In This Lifetime Ch. 05

Trigger warnings & Author's notes

May contain: violence, extreme domination, degradation, sadism, non-consent/coercion, slavery.

It was my intention to publish ch 5 and 6 together, but I'm still working out some stuff with the plot in ch 6 so I figured I'd go ahead and drop 5 while I wrap things up. This one is pure smut -- this was actually the first scene I'd ever written. It's a little hard to go back and read because I'm so critical of my own writing/iffy about sex scenes when I'm not feeling it myself. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it, but now I'm like, "is this even sexy? Is it pure cringe?!" I guess this is why people have beta readers. :') Anyway, hopefully you enjoy it as much as I once did. Ch 6 should be along in a few days if all goes well.

Anonymous & MarcLuciFer: Oh my god, I'm so fucking flattered by the kind words, thank you both so much, and thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts! You guys are awesome.

Chapter Five: establishing the status quo

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Mile grunted and tried to push the general off of himself, only to be met with the resistance of a brick wall. He doubled his efforts and pushed harder. Symond laughed slightly but made no move to let him up, causing the other to scowl and refuse to meet his gaze.

The former leader of the rebellion was growing increasingly frustrated with the regular sparring matches the general insisted upon. Not only was he freshly recovered from an injury, but they both knew from past experience that Mile couldn't match the older man's strength even at his best. It felt like the man was taunting him.

Mile had grown accustomed to his presence in the villa. When Symond was home, he insisted that they have meals together. Left with little choice, Mile begrudgingly complied, spending the time poking at his food and avoiding engagement with the man. Symond would speak to him -- he would tell him about things, mostly books he had read or people he encountered. Mile half-listened to the one-sided conversations, but Symond was careful not to speak about the only thing Mile had any interest in: the state of affairs within the kingdom. The fallen rebellion. Mile found the situation to be entirely frustrating. And then there were the sparring sessions. The goddamned sparring sessions.

Symond, ever observant, noticed the flash of frustration cross Mile's features. "You are getting stronger," he offered, which resulted only in the deepening of Mile's scowl.

"Fuck you."

An eyebrow shot up on the general's face; Mile generally made a point not to speak to him these days. He must really be getting under the rebel's skin to cause the younger man to react as such. It was a brief glimpse of the feisty youth that had caught Symond's attention all those years ago. He decided to push him further, hoping to bring out more of this.

"An exceptional idea," he mused and leaned down until his lips were right next to Mile's ear. "But you're going to have to beg for it."

Mile's eyes widened in surprise at the man's words. Despite the fact that they had coupled a handful of times in the past, the general had made no advances on him since his capture months prior. This man was responsible for destroying his world and killing his friends and had thrust him into a life of, what? Servitude? Slavery? He hated him with every fiber of his being.

"F-fuck you," Mile managed to sputter out, flustered and oblivious to the fact he was repeating himself.

"Hm ..." Symond leaned down and placed his lips against the side of Mile's neck and blew warm air along the exposed flesh. Mile swallowed hard, willing his body to ignore the sweet sensation that both men knew drove him mad. Symond doubled his efforts and began slowly trailing kisses along the side of his neck.

Mile bit his lip to try to stifle his pleasure. The position they were in, coupled with the teasing attention Symond was giving him, caused an immediate reaction in his body. Mile felt a chill rise along his spine and goosebumps erupt over his skin. He hated this man. Why was his body betraying him? And so quickly?!

"Beg," Symond ordered, more firmly.

"Fuck y-- mmph!"

Anticipating the response, the general grabbed his chin and captured his mouth in a kiss before he could finish the sentiment. Mile tried to turn his head to the side to escape the affectionate attack, but it seemed as though Symond had anticipated this as well, and held him steady. Mile closed his eyes as Symond began kissing him deeply and passionately. It was such a powerful kiss, Mile felt himself getting swept up into a whirlwind of lust and gave up the struggle, even as he felt Symond release his hold on his head to instead pin his arms at his sides. Symond's tongue explored Mile's own, caressing and teasing, encouraging it to join in. Mile let out a frustrated groan against the other man's lips, his arousal undeniable now as his cock began to harden against the other's thigh.

"Mm," Symond purred in approval into Mile's mouth before pulling away, leaving Mile gasping with a sudden intake of air.

"F-fucking hell," he panted, his thick accent coming in strong. The general smiled at this.

"Beg, Mile." He pushed his hips into Mile's, grinding their erections together with agonizingly slow thrusts.

Mile squirmed beneath the general in a half-hearted attempt to escape the sensations. Symond almost rolled his eyes. The rebel was a stubborn shit. Still, he knew he'd get what he wanted, and the younger man's resistance made him want it all the more. It was a front. Surely Mile knew that, as well.

Symond understood that Mile was in the midst of reckoning with his pride and loyalties. After all, he currently had the man in the most vulnerable position he'd ever been in. He could appreciate the inner turmoil Mile was currently experiencing. The pleasure he was feeling at the hands of the general was at complete odds with the fact that the man had caused the fall of the rebellion and claimed him as a prisoner of war.

"Baby," Symond purred as he leaned down to nuzzle his face against Mile's throat. Mile winced at the pet name; the man clearly knew how to play him like a fiddle, and he felt his resolve faltering as the general painstakingly pried off the protective armor he had placed around his emotions. Mile bit his lip as the other began licking and kissing up his throat and along his jaw. At some point he had moved his right hand up to the base of Mile's neck and was firmly holding it there, idly stroking with his thumb while slowly grinding his hips into Mile's.

Mile clenched his eyes shut and panted softly. He needed Symond. He needed the general to pin him down and take him, to claim his body as he'd done in the past. Symond hadn't demanded anything of him in those instances, he had simply taken what he wanted, which, fortunately for Mile, was also what *he* wanted. This experience was new, and Mile didn't know what to make of it. He felt ashamed and exposed, but simultaneously aroused and desperate for more. In this moment, Mile forgot the world. Symond was all there was. He swallowed his pride and willed himself to speak.

"Please," he almost whispered. The general stopped moving entirely.

"Please, what?" Mile frowned, never opening his eyes.

"Please fuck me, sir."

"Oh -- good boy." Symond, taken by surprise, cupped Mile's face and stroked his cheek with a calloused thumb. The "sir" had been an unexpected but entirely welcomed touch. He sat up and began to unbutton his own shirt, feeling uncomfortably warm now. He noticed Mile finally raising his gaze to observe him attentively. Those striking green eyes had gazed upon him so many times before, but only a handful of occasions in the they way they did now -- filled with desire. How Symond loved that look on his former rival's face. He smiled at the younger man and reached back down to stroke his hair. Mile found himself blushing slightly at the general's attention and averted his gaze again.

God, what was up with him? Symond had made him feel so exposed by ordering him to beg. He felt like a high school boy about to lose his virginity. It dawned on Mile that Symond held all of the power in this encounter. He hadn't considered that in the past when the man fucked him, *he* actually carried some of the power in the dynamic. Although it was Symond doing the topping, Mile was completely comfortable with the roles they had assumed in those instances, and he got what he wanted. This was a new dynamic with an uncomfortable new role, and the general held all the cards.

Mile felt the fire of arousal flare up inside him again at the thought. In the past it had been so easy to tell himself that he was forced to submit; perhaps that was how he dealt with the shame of the situation. Sleeping with his enemy. Allowing the man to dominate him. Symond was no longer allowing him that out. He was chipping away at any power Mile had between them and establishing a true dominant and submissive dynamic. Mile inwardly kicked himself when he had the sudden, invasive thought that perhaps that wasn't such a terrible thing.

Symond sat on his haunches, straddling Mile and studying the other's face. He could practically hear the gears in his head turning as the younger man seemed to grapple with the situation. He found himself smiling again. When had he allowed himself to become so smitten with the rebel? Symond swooped down and captured Mile's lips in another quick kiss and then began to undo the buttons on Mile's shirt, followed by his pants. He quickly tugged them down and tossed them aside. Mile propped himself up and looked at him. The general raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"I -- please kiss me," Mile stuttered out. Symond immediately obliged, reaching behind his head to grasp his hair tightly at the base of his skull as he pushed his tongue into Mile's mouth. This was such a stark change from the confidently brash young soldier he'd fucked in the past who had fought against him and slung insults at him. He enjoyed fiery, hard to pin Mile, but he found that he enjoyed breaking through that aspect of his personality and exposing timid and submissive Mile even more. He wondered if anyone had ever succeeded in doing so before.

Mile returned the kiss this time, gingerly at first but gradually becoming more aggressive; his tongue meeting the general's in a sloppy, passionate dance. With a quick tug Mile's boxers came down and were discarded to join his pants. The kiss seemed to go on forever, their tongues wrestling for control. Amused, Symond noted that Mile was still trying to grasp onto whatever small amount of control he could over the situation. He would have to put a stop to that.

Symond reached down between them and grasped Mile's erection. Mile grunted against his mouth and tensed at the sudden touch. He used the opportunity to push Mile's back flat against the ground and thrust his tongue deeper into his mouth, all the while stroking him sensually.

Mile had his eyes clenched shut, enjoying the sensations. Symond pulled away and smiled, feeling Mile's hard cock throb in his hand. He stood suddenly, leaving the younger man panting on the ground. Mile gazed up at the general. He couldn't help but admire the man's chiseled chest muscles as he looked at him hungrily.

"Up, Domarc." Mile blinked and pushed himself upright into a sitting position and started to stand, but he was stopped when the general placed a strong hand on his shoulder. He looked up at Symond quizzically.

"Kneel," came the steely command. Mile huffed and averted his gaze, feeling flustered again by the subservient position the general was commanding of him. They stayed like that for a moment, the general patiently waiting for Mile to obey, and Mile sitting on the ground, frustrated. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Mile pushed himself up into a kneeling position on both knees at the general's feet. He refused to look up from the ground. God, this was like pulling teeth, Symond mused.

"Look at me."

Mile raised his gaze to meet Symond's while keeping his face down. The eye contact was intense and Mile felt completely vulnerable, as though every aspect of his being was suddenly revealed under the general's probing eyes. It took everything in him not to look away.

Symond reached down and tilted Mile's chin up. "Good boy, Mile." He looked genuinely pleased with him. Mile found himself blushing and quickly averted his eyes. The general laughed. He had never known Mile to be so diffident. He'd let it slide for now.

"Undo my pants, baby."

Mile reached up, grateful for the distraction, and unbuckled Symond's belt and unbuttoned his pants. The older man stood tall above him while Mile unzipped his fly. Mile wondered how many others had been in his shoes before him. Sitting at the general's feet submissively and undressing the powerful man per his orders. He tugged the belt down, and the general's underwear and pants both came down in one swift movement, bunching at his boots. Mile flinched in surprise as the general's hard cock sprang out, nearly hitting him in the face.

"Good boy."

Mile blushed again as he was eye level with the general's cock. Fuck, the man was big. It had been over a year since they'd last fucked, and Mile was always awed by the man's girth. Fuck. He wanted that inside of him. Symond was running his fingers through his hair fondly. He took his cock in his other hand and began stroking it, the hard member engorging even more. Mile looked down. The situation felt painfully intimate.

The rowdy soldiers Mile generally fucked with -- when he allowed himself the pleasure of doing so -- had a tendency to be pretty straight forward with their fucking. They had sex to get their rocks off and that was that. There was nothing especially intimate about it. That was what he had come to expect from his fleeting sessions with the general, as well. This was something else entirely, Mile realized. This wasn't about release, this was about domination and surrender -- about establishing the new status quo.

Mile was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when he felt Symond's erection slap against his face. He looked up in surprise. While Mile had had plenty of sex with men, he'd never had a cock so close to his face. He was finding it to be degrading, and the general surely knew it. He hated him. Why was he still rock hard? Fuck! Mile tried to will his erection away. Was he really getting off on being humiliated by the other man? Symond tapped his cock against Mile's cheek a few more times for good measure, leaving a trail of precum on his face. Mile scowled up at him.

"Open up," the general ordered. Mile's eyes widened.

"You've got to be kidding me." That was probably the first full sentence Symond had heard out of Mile in weeks, he realized.

"Not at all. Have you never sucked a dick before?" He asked, amused.

"Never."

Symond was genuinely surprised to hear this. He felt his erection throb at the prospect of claiming Mile's oral virginity. Mile was still looking up at him, perhaps expecting the man to show him mercy and spare him the shame of having his cock in his mouth. He wouldn't be so lucky.

"That's hot as fuck, Mile. I think it's high time for you to learn how to put that smart fucking mouth to good use. Open."

"Oh, fucking hell," Mile cursed.

"Mm." Symond found Mile's frustration to be incredibly arousing, and he couldn't help but notice that Mile was still hard as a rock. He rubbed the head of his cock against Mile's soft lips, and the younger man instinctively pulled his head back. Symond snaked his hand behind Mile's head and grasped the hair at the nape of his neck again, forcing the younger man to look up at him.

"Mile. Open your mouth." Mile looked up at him with pleading eyes, but Symond stood firm, holding Mile's head with one hand and his own hard erection with the other.

Mile finally parted his lips and Symond seized the opportunity to shove the head of his cock into the younger man's mouth. Mile grunted at the foreign sensation, tasting the man's salty precum leaking onto his tongue. He tried to pull back, but Symond held his head steady.

"You look so good with my dick in your mouth. Shit." Mile glared at him. If looks could kill. Symond gave a quick smirk. "Now use your tongue for the only thing it's good for."

Mile continued to glare up at him.

"Come on, baby." With the use of that magic word, Mile's eyes softened and he looked down. At long last he tentatively moved his tongue against the intruding erection in his mouth, running it along the bottom of the head. "That's a good boy." Symond allowed Mile to continue his hesitant licking for a bit, but he was growing impatient and found that he really just wanted to bury himself to the hilt and claim the other man's throat. He would be the first and the last to do so. The prospect of this was simply too much to resist. With one swift motion he grabbed the back of Mile's head, cradling it with his forearm, and shoved the entirety of his cock down his throat.

Mile immediately gagged around the thick member, both hands reaching up to try to push himself off of the other, but the general didn't release his head. His face was pressed up against Symond's pelvis and held in place by a strong, muscled arm. Mile continued to gag and struggle, desperate for air. He heard Symond speak.

"Calm down. Breathe through your nose."

After a few more moments of panicked struggle, Mile must've realized that it would behoove him to do as the general suggested, and he stopped struggling and began to breathe deeply through his nose, his throat relaxing and gag reflex eventually letting up. He let out a noise akin to a groan around the general's cock, causing vibrations to reverberate through the man's tool.

"Shiiit."

Symond started thrusting into Mile's mouth and throat, causing his gag reflex to start up again. Mile looked up at him desperately, pressing both of his hands against the man's hips, trying to push away from him.

"It'll get better with practice. Just breathe."

Mile clenched his eyes shut and did as he was told as best as he could, resigning himself to the fact that this man was brutally fucking his throat -- pulling out just short of all the way so he wouldn't have the chance to close his mouth, and then burying himself entirely.

Slobber and precum were dripping from the sides of Mile's mouth and down his chin and chest as Symond continued to thrust. Mile tried to swallow, causing his throat to move around the general's cock, eliciting a moan from the man. Fuck, he wasn't going to last much longer. He held Mile's head somehow even tighter against himself and slammed his hips against his face.

"I fucking own you, Mile," Symond snarled in ecstasy, gazing down at him. This was it, this was what he desired from the moment he laid eyes on the young rebel nearly a decade ago. Symond grinned triumphantly when Mile moved his left hand from the general's thigh and reached down to stroke himself in response to Symond's words, his eyes still clenched shut. Mile knew his place and he fucking loved it, whether he would admit it yet or not.

Symond's thrusts became faster and more erratic, Mile's unspoken acceptance of their new roles pushing him over the edge, and with a loud moan, Symond's orgasm washed over him and he thrust his cock deep into the warm vice a final time, unloading what seemed like an ungodly amount of semen into Mile's throat. Mile gagged, cum backing up into his mouth and dripping down his chin, but he did not try to pull away.

"Swallow," Symond ordered, and Mile did his best to comply, the other man's cock still buried in his throat as it began to go soft. Symond sighed in contentment and pulled himself from Mile's mouth when he was satisfied that the younger man had swallowed as much semen as he could.