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Being weak is a death sentence, so is being human. In lands as frigid and turbulent as those that he lives in, nothing but absolute magical strength can guarantee your survival. There are few strong enough that their names are known to even lowly wizards like himself, but everyone knows names like Oz, Figaro, Snow and White, Tiletta, Mithra… they strike fear into the very soul of many and draw admiration from the few brave enough to look up to them. He’ll never even come close to being on that list, or any list of wizards to watch out for. All he’s trying to do is get by without drawing much attention and making himself a target for someone power hungry. Not that his mana stone would be worth much, but some people are desperate for any increase in magic, no matter how small.
All that said, there are ways for guys like him to get by. Being a wizard is better than not being a wizard, without magic he’d likely still be with that deadbeat family of his and unable to leave the struggling town he was born in. Having magic allows him to join up with others who are also weak and would be nothing with only their own power. The infamous few may control the balance of power, and the figurehead human royals pretend they have control over the humans who reside in the icy hellscape, but they aren’t the only two powers in the North. Bandit gangs make up the third corner in the triangle of power in this country. They don’t have the overwhelming force that those strongest do, nor the titles and protection given to the human royals, but ragtag gangs made up of weaker wizards are enough to terrorize towns and hold their own against most. Groups of humans come together in much the same way, but while they may be able to hold power over humans attempting to live their lives honestly, they’re crushed as soon as a wizard sets eyes on their territory.
In Nero’s experience even gangs made up entirely of wizards are fleeting, one group gets overrun by another and its members killed or absorbed and then there’s a new bunch of people to learn to exist alongside and to figure out how to navigate things with. Nero’s not far past thirty years old, but in the short while he’s lived, he’s been through a number of these groups, perfecting his skills at lock picking and basic attack magic so that he’ll be of use to anyone he ends up on the side on. His ability to cook helps too, something that he picked up before he left his family that has not only become a way of getting a decent rapport within a group, but also something he feels surprisingly at home doing. Regardless of his usefulness, there’s always an adjustment period and sometimes the way to buy the trust of a new group is a little rough.
“If you lot survived you’ve gotta be the decent ones then, yeah?” A man snarls as he steps forward from the group of bandits who’ve just destroyed the side Nero had been in with.
Until now they’ve been getting along well, not going after more than they needed for survival to keep themselves from drawing attention. Of course, when every wizard is a potential mana stone, there’s no way to avoid ending up a target forever. Perhaps half their number ended up like that today, their remains quickly scooped up by those attacking, giving his own side no time to mourn as they surrendered. The first time a group Nero had been part of had been ambushed, the experience was traumatising. Now as he stands among the survivors, he just feels numb to it all. This is the North after all, no one’s life is guaranteed. Human or wizard.
“Yanno, we’re always after decent fresh meat. Promise me ya loyalty and I’ll let ya live.”
Nero hears a laugh from beside himself before a blast of energy is shot past his head and the sound of a body collapsing to the floor before shattering into pieces echoes through the room.
“Are ya insane, ‘jus turn me to stone now if that’s what you’re wantin’. Most of us’ll join ya if you let us but we ain’t crazy.” Another brave man speaks up as Nero’s eyes dart to the door. Could he make it if he made a run for it now?
“Wouldn’t take in fools stupid enough to wager their magic on somethin’ like that anyway.” Nero’s line of sight moves to the crystal remains of the wizard who’d been killed for laughing decorating the floor beside him. “You, blue haired ponytail.”
He freezes up. That’s him, no one else left alive has hair that could be described as blue.
“U-uh, yeah?” Eyes turning back to face their captor, he tries to figure out what to say to increase his chances of survival.
“Don’t even think ‘bout it, that’s my snack.”
“Nah I wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout that, was jus’ wondering why ya killed him when ya weren’t gunna make us promise anyway.”
Not that he needs a reason, in the North anything can get you killed.
“Didn’ like the look of his face.” So, it was something as small as that.
Nero doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or concerned that his guy is the same as every other flippant bastard of a boss he’s stood among the men of. As he’s trying to decide which, that same bastard’s hand grabs his jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes.
“Tell ya what though, I like the look of yours. I know just the way for you ta prove that you’ll put ya life on the line for me.” That same hand moves to the top of his head, forcing him to his knees.
Nero’s no idiot, he can figure out exactly what’s about to happen. Thing is, this wouldn’t be the first time. If he has to suck someone’s cock to get by sometimes then what of it? He gets to keep on living. If this guy is actually awful, he’ll make a run for it as soon as he’s earned the trust of this gang to the point that they’ll let him roam free without eyes focused on his every move.
“Go on then, looking like that I doubt I’m the first wizard you’ve caught the eye of.”
Nero doesn’t look around at his remaining comrade’s faces, instead just focusing on opening the belts slung around the hips of the wizard in front of him. They might be judging him for swallowing his pride like this and letting this man use him in front of them all; some of them among their numbers would have taken death over this. Tugging down his fly, he wets his lips. Hopefully he’s the only one among their now greatly reduced number who has to do this.
“There we go, get it nice ‘nd hard for me will ya?”
Nero takes a deep breath before wrapping his hand around the warmth of the man’s soft cock. It’s pretty sizable, something he might actually look forward to having in his mouth in another scenario. That said, it’s not like Nero’s never found himself enjoying this kind of treatment, there’s a part of him that inevitably ends up getting aroused as pleasure is ruthlessly taken from his body.
Pumping his length a couple of times, he then leans forward, lips parting as he takes the head into his mouth and sucks gently. It’s clear that the bandit he’s sucking off hasn’t thought to use body cleaning magic in a couple of days and he can only hide the instinct to grimace at the taste by taking more in. From above him there’s a loud, performative groan as he feels the cock twitch and start to react.
As he takes his full length into his mouth, fingers close around his high ponytail. He’s considered cutting his hair shorter, but he’s worn this style for a couple of decades. Maybe later on in life he’ll contemplate changing it, it’s not something he cares enough about to put too much thought into. Survival is more important than appearance.
His thoughts are pulled back to the situation as the cock continues to harden, forcing him to relax his throat further and pull back slightly until he warms up to it. The hand in his hair doesn’t let him get too far though, as soon as he’s far enough back to have half his length out of his mouth, it’s all forced inside. Acting quick to ensure that he doesn’t gag, he manages just in time to suppress the reflex as the head of his cock pushes against the back of his throat. Things don’t get any easier from there.
If Nero hadn’t sucked more cocks than he can remember the exact count of, he’d be struggling not to vomit. Even as it stands, there’s little he can do except call on that experience when using magic might be seen as a threat to his new leader’s life. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as he can’t help but choke, the sound drawing cheers from half the audience, and a sharp tug on his hair in annoyance from the man fucking his mouth. As if doing it as punishment for gagging, the next thrust is held in place at the back of Nero’s throat. Nero’s blunt nails dig into his own thighs as he struggles to keep taking in air through his nose, he’s going to end up suffocating if this keeps up.
Tears now streaming down his cheeks, the man finally pulls back. Not enough though, any hope Nero had that he’d be allowed to breathe is torn from him as the cock hits the back of his throat again and again in rapid succession. He can feel snot dripping from his nose and spit dripping down his chin. What a pathetic mess he is. Nonetheless, he keeps taking the treatment with the only complaint being the sounds he can’t hold back when the treatment is too much for his reflexes.
Inevitably, as much as he hates it, as all eyes in the room remain focused on his degradation he feels slight heat stir. It’s not enough that he’d get hard from it, but that small flutter is enough for heat to flash through his cheeks too. Trying to shove away any feelings of arousal, he just tries to focus on getting the job done. The guy has to be close, considering the fact he’s started calling out to his men around the room.
“’lright who’s gunna be next, little bitch can take a dick like it’s his job.” Nero’s stomach simultaneously sinks and tightens. Shit. He’s really gunna pass him around like a piece of meat in front of Nero’s own remaining allies. Nero’s unsure what he dreads more, having to withstand potentially hours of abuse or the fact that the men he’s been standing beside will inevitably see him getting turned on by the treatment.
“Sure, use his ass if ya want. We’ll be here ‘til morning so just leave him in decent enough condition that he can get on a broom – if he survives the night with you lot that is!”
Loud laughter sounds from all around him, before being cut off sharply when the bastard fucking his mouth groans. Silence falls again as the last few thrusts push between his lips. Nero’s at the point where if he doesn’t get to breath soon, he might just pass out. Something he’s really determined not to do; he needs to be lucid for what’s to come next. As much as he doesn’t want the wizards who’ve been his comrades to seem him hard while being raped in every way possible, he knows if he wants to survive it that he needs to have some wits about him.
Throbbing strongly, the cock is pushed once again fully down his throat. Nero just manages to keep it together as bitter cum is pumped into him. Instincts to spit it up fill him but he can’t, and not only because the guy’s cock is being held in place as he performatively moans through his orgasm. Nero knows that spitting out his cum would mean death.
Finally, as he pulls out and leaves Nero’s mouth empty, Nero can breathe again. Giving one last swallow, he then opens his mouth and shows that he managed to take down everything. He waits to see the satisfied nod from his new boss before lifting a wrist to his mouth and wiping the spit surrounding his lips away. Not much point to doing so, but for the few minutes where he won’t feel it drying there, it’s worth it.
Or so he thinks.
Almost immediately after, his throat protests. A cough leaves his lips and he catches himself on his hands, thick spit and cum falling from his lips as he fails to keep everything he just swallowed inside him. When at last he manages to get a hold on himself, he knows he’s more of a mess than before. He knows too, that he’s also potentially dead.
“Not many who even manage to keep that much down, somethin’ ‘bout my potent magic power I reckon.” The bastard chuckles as he tucks himself back into his pants. “Have at him you animals.”
Laughing to himself some more, Nero watches him turn his back and head for the plush armchair at the end of the otherwise ransacked room.
“And if any of his comrades try get outta watchin’ this, then they’re joining him down there on their knees.”
-----
Light shines bright through his eyelids and a sleepy arm raises itself to cover his eyes. It’s tired, muscles exhausted and sore, much like the rest of him. Giving up on blocking the rising sun that way, he moves to roll over, wincing as he does. Someone at least had the heart to throw a coat over him before leaving to sleep well away from the mess surrounding him.
Dried cum flakes and cracks off as he moves, his entire body feels crusty with it. Tears, spit that’s both his own and other’s, and sweat have also dried on his skin. At the very least no one else had had to join him in being the toy of their new gang, he’d have been more ashamed of that than he was of what they actually saw of him. Scratching at his stomach he feels more dried cum flake off, sighing to himself as he remembers that some of the mess there had been his own. By the time they were done with him and his body had given out, he wasn’t simply tolerating the treatment anymore. Nero has a feeling that in this gang, his secondary job isn’t going to be on the kitchen. They wouldn’t waste him like that after finding out what he can take from them.