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The banished prince of the Fire Nation stood in his quarters in his mostly repaired ship. Zuko took a deep, satisfied breath, staring up at the sanguine banner that draped across one entire wall. For the first time in a long time, he felt proud of himself. He’d challenged the pompous Commander Zhao to an Agni Kai, and Zuko had won.
Zuko sat down crosslegged in front of his small alter of candles, lighting them all with a few quick hand motions. He couldn’t help remembering the last Agni Kai he’d been a combatant in. His stomach twisted and his fingers wandered up to the rough skin around his left eye. It had taken a while for him to get used to leaving the scar alone, to pretending it didn’t even exist. He still noticed how anyone who looked at him looked at the scar first, but Zuko had learned to ignore the looks. Most people just assumed it was a training accident anyway.
He let his hand drop and pushed the thoughts away. Today had been different. Today he’d proven his birthright, proven that he deserved to go back.
Proven it as much to Zhao as he had himself.
Someone knocked on the steel door of his room. “Prince Zuko. You have a visitor.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s Commander Zhao,” the man identified himself from outside the door, butting in before the crewmate could continue. “Would you grant me a private audience, Prince Zuko?”
Zuko immediately tensed when he heard the man’s voice, scowling. Zhao’s tone was different than usual. He sounded… sincere? And he’d used Zuko’s title, something the Prince had never heard him use before without the added title of ‘banished’ attached.
“Come in, Zhao,” Zuko called.
The door opened and Zuko didn’t give the Commander even the smallest courtesy of turning his head to look at him. “Thank you,” the man said, tone stiff.
“What do you want, Commander?” Zuko asked flatly, gazing into the small candle flames.
Zhao took a deep breath, and just from the way it hissed from his nostrils, Zuko could tell Zhao was annoyed by his behavior.
“I wanted to update you on the repairs to your ship. They’ll be done by morning…” he paused, and Zuko finally stood and turned to face the man. Zhao had his hands folded behind his back in a dignified way. He was wearing a billowing set of evening robes to combat the cool night air, and his eyes were cast to the side, staring at the banner. Was that a hint of repentance in his expression?
Zuko folded his arms over his chest, his own soft robes draping over his shoulders. “And?” he prompted impatiently. A worker would have simply updated one of Zuko’s soldiers if it were a message about repairs. There was no need for Zhao to come visit him personally unless he had something else to say.
“I was wrong to try attack you, Prince Zuko,” Zhao finally said. “You had obviously won, and I let my pride get the better of me.”
Zuko stared at the man who still wasn’t looking at him. Arrogant Commander Zhao was seriously apologizing to him? Zuko could hardly believe it. In fact, he didn’t. Zhao must want something from him. There was no other reason for the unexpected visit.
The teen gave him an unimpressed stare, “Apology accepted. You can leave now,” he replied tersely, though most of the heat had left his tone. He didn’t want to hear it.
Zhao finally met Zuko’s gaze, and the Prince saw the annoyance and anger in his expression. He was pissed to be doing this, and still furious that some uppity teenager had bested him. He bowed anyway though, and Zuko returned the bow, though much shallower than was perfectly respectful.
Zhao reached for the door and Zuko turned away, gazing back down at the candles and falling back into his thoughts.
The door opened, and then closed, and a second later rough hands fell on Zuko’s back, grabbing his robe and shoving him into the wall next to the alter.
Surprise ran like ice through his veins as Zuko retaliated, throwing an elbow back. There was a grunt and then those iron-like hands caught his wrists before actual irons slapped on. The cuffs bit into his skin as the attacker yanked his arms up painfully and rammed their knee into the back of his thigh.
Zuko gave a growl of rage and threw his head back. The man seemed ready for the move and Zuko just barely felt the back of his head bump into the man’s nose. A hand grasped onto his ponytail and stars burst before his eyes in an explosion of pain as his face smashed into the steel wall.
The blow made his knees wobble and his thoughts scatter. His heart hammered in his ears. Fire. He had to use his fire!
The singeing cold of a blade slipped around his throat, stunting all thoughts of fighting for the moment.
“Will you ever learn not to turn your back on me,” Zhao’s voice growled in Zuko’s good ear.
Zhao. He hadn’t actually left the room. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Zhao?” the Prince demanded.
“Teaching an arrogant brat a lesson.”
“This is treason!”
“You’re already a traitor, ‘Prince’ Zuko,” Zhao drawled, using the title as an insult now. “The only person this will harm is you. Besides,” he chuckled darkly, “I’m just teaching from the same book your father uses. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
Zuko recoiled from the man’s words, grinding his teeth. “Don’t bring him into this!” He mule-kicked the man, adding a plume of flame with it. Once again though, Zhao seemed ready. He stepped to the side, one hand diverting the flame harmlessly. The motion continued and Zhao spun Zuko around by his hair, bringing the teen down onto his raised knee.
All the breath left Zuko’s lungs in a whoosh and before he knew it he was on the cold floor. He tried to roll, but hissed in pain as Zhao’s knee landed in the center of his back, pinning him down. Zhao curled his thick fingers around Zuko’s ponytail again, craning his head back. “This makes a pretty good handle. Is that why you wear it like this?”
Zuko didn’t even acknowledge the question, just spat, “I’ll call my guards and they’ll take you down in seconds.”
Zhao laughed, “Speaking of guards, it’s not very smart of you to not keep any posted outside your door whenever you’re inside. Anyone could get in and take you out at any moment.”
He jabbed his knee harder into Zuko’s back and the Prince clamped his jaw down on the cry of pain that tried to get out. “Stop this, this instant,” he snarled instead.
Zhao scoffed, “If you haven’t called your guards already then you’re not going to. You know as well as I do that if they see you like this they’ll lose any shred of respect they might have for you. You’d have a broken ship and no crew before morning.”
Zuko didn’t answer, his teeth grinding together in frustration. He was right. But more than mutiny, Zuko didn’t think he could handle the embarrassment of being seen with Zhao, a man who he’d just bested hours ago in the arena, practically sitting on top of him like this.
The bigger man laughed again and Zuko felt him shift, his knee grinding into his spine, and then felt a matching pair of cuffs clasp over his ankles. Zuko kicked, but could barely move with the knee in his back and the fist in his hair, pulling hard enough that his chest was completely lifted from the floor.
“I’ve dealt with firebenders for decades,” Zhao continued, standing and pulling Zuko up onto his knees by his hair. “You may have gotten lucky in the arena, but I’m in control now.” The Commander maintained a tight hold on Zuko’s ponytail as he drew another item, a length of chain, from his billowing robes. Dammit! Any visitors would be thoroughly searched from now on. Zhao did something behind Zuko’s back, and after a minute Zuko felt the cuffs on his wrists pull closer to the ones on his ankles.
Spirits, Zhao was tying him up like a hog monkey! Zuko snarled as fire roiled in his chest. He tried to wrench his way out of Zhao’s hold, fire pluming from his nose and mouth. Zhao kept a tight hold on Zuko’s hair, deftly avoiding the hobbled attack with hardly any effort. He returned the failed attack with the curled toe of his boot straight into Zuko’s gut.
The teen grunted, his body trying to double over but the cuffs keeping him mostly straight. Zhao’s hand was still in his hair as Zuko glared up hatefully at him. The Commander gazed back down at him, a smug grin on his face, and something else glowing behind his dark amber eyes.
Zhao leaned down a little, eyes locked with Zuko’s. “Now, onto that lesson,” he growled, his free hand reaching to his hip to pull out the dagger he’d used before. Zhao then proceeded to ram his boot into the Prince’s gut again. “Tell me, what all did your father teach you?”
Zuko had gone into lockdown mode, clenching his jaw tightly and concentrating on staying absolutely silent. Zhao referenced his father once again and Zuko’s insides squirmed. He didn’t want to think about the Fire Lord right then. This was too familiar: gritting his teeth, trying not to make a sound as pain spread through his body…
“Apparently he taught you not to cry like a child.” Zhao let go of Zuko’s hair and circled around him, observing his prey. “That’s good. You wouldn’t want to draw any attention. Can you even imagine what Fire Lord Ozai would say if he knew about this? His son bested in his own quarters. Is it even possible for him to lose more respect for you?”
Zuko glared up at him again as he walked back in front of him, but the teen’s stare lost its bite when he saw that the front of Zhao’s trousers were undone. Disbelief coursed through him when he saw the Commander’s half hard cock poking from the opening.
He looked back up to Zhao, eyes wide, denial clear in them. What was this? Was this seriously happening? What did Zhao plan to do to him?
Zhao smiled down at him, knife in hand, towering over the teen, and the final ingredient to Zuko’s worst nightmare bubbled up: fear. Zuko could feel his hands start to shake and his mind raced back to his father’s chambers. He remembered being summoned there many times after his mother had been taken from him. He’d never realized just how much she’d protected him, sheltered him. Zuko had thought outbursts at the dinner table had been bad. Nothing could compare to the feelings of inadequacy he’d felt once his father had gotten his hands on him.
Zhao reached a hand out and ran his fingers over Zuko’s scar. The teen flinched away, the touch searing through him even though he barely felt it through the thick, rough skin. The Commander moved closer, his member uncomfortably close to Zuko’s face. The teen looked away, trying his hardest to ignore it.
“You aren’t going to resist,” Zhao rumbled, gripping Zuko’s hair once again. He brought the knife up and held it against the ponytail and Zuko froze completely, hardly daring to breathe. “You won’t burn me, otherwise I will reduce you to nothing. I will take any chance for you to regain your honor.”
Zuko was trembling worse now. Cutting his hair like that meant far more than it seemed. The topknot was symbolic, showing he was part of the upper echelon of the Fire Nation. Shearing it off cut those bonds. It would make him an outcast, unable to ever reclaim his honor. Unable to ever go home.
“I don’t need anyone else to know about tonight,” Zhao continued. “The only thing I need is for you to understand where you sit on the food chain. You are a sham of a prince. A disgrace to the Fire Nation. A rat tick on the back of this glorious country.”
Zhao pulled Zuko’s face closer to his crotch and Zuko turned his scarred side toward it.
“But if you don’t resist, no one else has to know about what happens tonight.” Zuko could hear the grin in his voice. “How does that sound, Prince Zuko?”
Zuko didn’t answer. He could feel the corners of his eyes stinging with barely held tears. He didn’t want Zhao to know how much this was hurting him, how deep his words cut.
The Commander didn’t need a verbal confirmation, apparently, as he started to rub his hardening member against Zuko’s face.
The teen squeezed his eyes shut, glad that it was the numbed, scarred side of his face. The feeling was short lived though when Zhao moved to the other side, rubbing himself all over Zuko’s face. The heavy scent of the man filled the teen’s nose, salty and sweaty.
Zuko wished with all his power that this would be it, that it would end here and he could curl up alone and start trying to forget this night ever happened. But he knew this wasn’t close to the end.
Zhao pulled the teen back and growled, voice overflowing with pride and dominance, “Open up.”
A sob threatened to work its way up Zuko’s throat as he mumbled, “No.”
The hand tightened on his hair. “Do you want everyone to know your shame?”
Tears welled under Zuko’s closed eyelids. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, don’t…”
“Do it,” Zhao snarled.
Zuko gulped, forcing his eyes to dry before they cracked open and he slowly opened his mouth.
“Stick out your tongue.”
Zuko's fists clenched behind his back, his cheeks flushing in humiliation, but he did as he was told. It would be over eventually. It would be over and no one would have to know.
He closed his eyes quickly as Zhao’s cock bobbed in front of his face and then moved toward him. Zuko felt the engorged head press against his tongue, the salty taste quickly filling his mouth. He heard Zhao sigh in pleasure and it nearly made him sick. He’d detested Zhao before. The man had always looked down on him, even before Ozai had burned him. But now—now Zuko despised him. Hated him with every fiber of his being.
The hatred kept the fear and tears back as Zhao pushed farther into his mouth. Zuko kept his jaw and tongue as still as he could, breathing through his nose. He didn’t want to give Zhao any more satisfaction than he was already getting.
The man chuckled lowly, probing Zuko’s mouth with his erection. Zuko nearly gagged on the taste alone. His heart pounded, hands still screwed into fists as the cock ran over his tongue, the roof of his mouth, and the inside of his teeth.
“Suck,” Zhao instructed.
Zuko felt his pride balk at the command. He shook his head a little.
The hand tightened once again, “Then say goodbye to your honor.”
Zuko whimpered as he closed his lips around the cock in his mouth. He reluctantly did as instructed, sucking on the head, and actually gagged when salty precum leaked onto the back of his tongue.
“Pathetic,” Zhao growled. “You really are a sniveling brat.”
The hand in Zuko’s hair started to pull his head back and forth. Saliva pooled in the teen’s mouth, and he swallowed it along with the disgusting precum. Better that then let it drool from his mouth.
Zhao let out a breath of pleasure as he directed Zuko’s head back and forth over the tip of his cock. “Don’t stop sucking, Prince,” he breathed.
He continued like this for a short while. Zuko kept his eyes tightly closed, trying to ignore everything by concentrating on the feeling of the cold metal cuffs gripping his wrists.
He couldn’t ignore it for much longer as Zhao pulled his head down and then held it there, the head of his dick pressing against the opening of Zuko’s throat. Zuko closed his throat to the probing member, refusing to let it sink in any farther. The head and only about an inch of the shaft were all that could fit, which didn’t make up even half of the Commander’s length.
“Take it in,” Zhao growled.
Zuko shook his head again, his fear working from his heart up to his throat, his eyes stinging with tears again.
“Do you want me to force you?”
Zuko opened his eyes and finally looked up at Zhao. His eyes were watery but he still mustered a desperate defiance in the look. He was humiliated, he was scared, but he was resigned now, so he sure as hell wasn’t going to make this easy for Zhao.
The Commander stared down at him and slowly grinned. “If you insist, Prince Zuko.” He saw Zhao’s bicep flex just before he shoved down on Zuko’s head.
The teen grunted as he kept his throat blocked, resisting Zhao’s hold. Zhao kept up the pressure for a few seconds, and then pulled Zuko’s head back until he nearly pulled out. He then shoved the teen’s head back down, and this time threw his hips into it. His hard cock rammed into Zuko’s mouth and the teen felt the head lodge a little farther into his throat. Zuko squeezed his eyes shut again, trying desperately to keep his throat closed.
Zhao continued attacking his throat, slipping in a fraction at a time. Zuko could feel his throat muscles tiring rapidly from the barrage.
Finally, Zhao widened his stance, and with his next powerful push his cock slipped past Zuko’s tired mouth and plunged down his throat, the whole length forcing down in one go.
Zuko’s eyes popped open as the shock of having his throat invaded rippled through his body. He immediately felt bile rise and his lungs constrict as he was suddenly unable to breathe. He thrashed his head, panic filling him, and after a few seconds Zhao let him up, taking his cock completely out.
Zuko coughed and hacked, saliva coating his lips as he panted. He was trembling, his heart beating like a caged eagle hawk. Zhao just chuckled and rubbed his slick cock over Zuko’s face. “Good boy,” the man practically purred. The teen felt sick as his cheeks burned. He couldn’t look at the man, refusing to raise his eyes.
It didn’t take long for Zhao to plunge his member back in. Zuko tried to resist, but the unceasing pounding along with Zhao’s firm grip on his hair made resisting impossible.
Zhao wasn’t gentle with him. Zuko’s throat ached as Zhao rutted against his face, using his ponytail as a handle to slide the teen’s face up and down his length. Zuko coughed and gagged constantly, thick saliva bubbling up around his lips and into his sinuses. He felt like he was going to throw up with every thrust.
Eventually, Zhao started to hold his head down longer, keeping him pinned on his cock. Zuko’s lungs burned and he started to feel dizzy, sucking in breaths whenever he could get them. Then, Zhao pressed his head down and kept him there.
Seconds ticked by as Zuko held his breath, waiting to be let up, but the hand in his hair only tightened. He coughed around the member, his throat bulging to accommodate it. He tried to push back, but found himself completely unable to move off the cock that was slowly choking him. Panic iced through him once again and he struggled harder, forgetting the knife for the moment. Zhao’s hand seemed anchored in place, his wide stance and body weight giving him every advantage in this fight.
Zuko’s eyes flitted up to Zhao, desperation filling them. What was happening? Was Zhao trying to kill him?!
The Commander’s smug grin wavered in Zuko’s gaze as he stared down at him. “Suck like a good bitch if you don’t want to black out.”
Zuko tore at the bonds, struggling and thrashing. He needed air!
“Ah, ah, ah,” Zhao tsked. “Don’t forget what you have on the line, Prince.”
Zuko’s eyes watered, which he hoped Zhao would think was just from the rough treatment. His pride crumbled and he sucked as well as he could on the pulsing member, his lips tightening over the hot flesh.
Zhao grinned down at him as Zuko’s vision started to tunnel, his mouth going a little slack, and only then did the Commander finally yank Zuko’s hair back, taking his cock completely from his mouth again.
The teen gulped in air, his panting ragged with wet coughs. Strings of saliva stretched from his lips to Zhao’s soaked cock. Zuko’s head pounded, reeling from the near black out. “D-don’t,” he sputtered.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t hold me down.”
In response, Zhao shoved his cock back down Zuko’s throat. “You’re not the one giving commands this time, Prince,” he snarled. Zuko muffled sounds a protest seemed to only make Zhao’s cock harder. “You’ll have to earn your air. Stick out your tongue. Let’s see how much we can shove in that big mouth of yours.
Zuko could feel his stomach heaving in response to his gag reflex, and it was nearly all he could do to avoid throwing up. The last thing he wanted to do was impale his throat even more on Zhao’s manhood, but he didn’t have much of a choice. The teen pushed his tongue out, his whole body seizing as he gagged, and Zhao pushed him down so Zuko’s nose was pressed into his curly black pubic hair. He angled his hips and roughly commanded, “Lick.”
Zuko’s eyes streamed and saliva dripped from his tongue, speckling the floor. His mind started to go fuzzy as he struggled to run his tongue over the hairy sack that hung just inside Zhao’s open trousers.
The Commander sighed in pleasure, grinning down at Zuko. Zuko barely noticed the grin as his vision started to tunnel again, the edges blurring and darkening. All he could hear was his heart thudding in his ears, his lungs straining.
Just when he was sure he was going to pass out, Zhao yanked his head back again. Zuko sagged in his hold, gasping and spluttering, but barely got two blissful breaths before Zhao’s cock dove back in and starting pumping in and out of his throat again.
Zuko’s eyes rolled back as Zhao used him even harder. Instead of forcing Zuko’s head to bob up and down, the Commander held his head stationary and thrusted into his mouth. The wet slapping of his balls against Zuko’s chin filled the room, Zhao’s muscled groin bruising the teen’s reddened lips. Saliva practically poured from his mouth and bubbled from his nostrils. Beads of sweat dotted his brow.
It was almost over. Zuko could tell from the way Zhao’s focus changed. He stopped trying to intentionally humiliate the Prince as his thrusts became faster, his attention shifting to the sheer pleasure he was feeling. Zuko wasn’t sure if it was better or worse. Zhao seemed done with his games, but now Zuko was just an object to him. A thing that was barely useful as a sex toy.
The Commander’s thrusts became erratic, his breath huffing out. He grinned down at Zuko, a strand of hair working its way from his topknot. “Should I feed it to you?” he hissed, “Or paint it over your traitorous face?”
Just get it over with. Spirits, please, just let this end, Zuko thought. Both were bad, and his brain was too muddled to sort out which was worse. All he knew was that his jaw felt like it was about to break and his throat and nose burned horribly.
Zhao chuckled darkly, “How about both?”
Zuko’s eyes widened and he weakly tried to struggle again, but he was too oxygen deprived to make any sort of real fight.
Zhao groaned deep in his chest as he rammed his engorged cock down Zuko’s throat, grinding his groin into the teen’s face. Zuko’s eyes rolled back as hot, thick seed poured down his throat, force-feeding him. The muscles in his throat tried desperately to swallow down the thick cum, choking and gurgling around the pulsing member.
After two spurts, Zhao pulled out with a wet shluck and aimed the last sticky ropes of cum onto Zuko’s face. The teen’s mouth hung open as he coughed and gasped, the bitter taste of Zhao’s seed thick on the back of his tongue. He closed his eyes, flinching with each hot load that landed on his face. It sprayed onto his cheek, over his forehead, coated his scar, and then Zhao let the last of it dribble into Zuko’s open mouth, the pulsing head sitting on the teen’s tongue.
Zhao sighed heavily, his shoulders rolling back with relief as his cock started to soften, falling from Zuko’s mouth. His firm hand didn’t allow Zuko’s head to tip forward, forcing him to hold the cum in his mouth. “Swallow,” he growled.
Zuko closed his mouth and grimaced. It was warm and thick, the horribly bitter liquid and his own gooey saliva churning in his mouth. He cast his eyes down, his raw throat struggling to swallow anything. He gulped loudly, and Zhao finally let go of his hair. The man took a couple steps back, putting his knife away and tying his pants. Zuko stared at the metal floor, his breath still short and his head pounding. It was over. It was finally over.
The Commander swiftly unlocked the cuffs, stowing the bonds in his large robes. Zuko didn’t try to attack him. He was furious and humiliated, but felt like he was chained to the floor, unable to even lift his eyes. His cheeks was nearly burning off, and he immediately tried to wipe the cum from his face once his shaking hands were free.
“Hopefully that lesson will sink in, Prince Zuko. Do not cross me again.” Zhao turned on his heal and exited Zuko’s room, the door banging shut behind him.