- Joined
- Feb 24, 2007
- Posts
- 75
- Media
- 0
- Likes
- 9
- Points
- 153
- Location
- Florida (United States)
- Sexuality
- 50% Straight, 50% Gay
- Gender
- Male
- lja,
I think this turned me on too much to make much progress on it at any one time. The perils of sex writing. Enjoy.
_________________
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
__________________
Selection night in the Sanctum. The night when we review the women our armies have captured in one of our ongoing campaigns and choose which will join our harems and which will become common slaves. The roof was open and it was a clear, warm night in spring. The stars were out and the smoke from the torches rose to meet them. I was seated to the right of Titus' throne on a velvet dais, sipping wine and watching the festivities. My cock was calm and pulsing steadily against my thigh. I rested my hand on it beneath my robe. It was a good night to be alive in Mythos.
Dama (the same as mentioned in my previous tale) was performing a dance in the center floor. Her short cropped hair bounced against her chin as she shook her hips, her full breasts swaying nicely in the firelight. Titus watched her closely, the end of her chain clutched in his hand.
On the other side of Titus's throne sat other heads of state, senators, admirals and merchants who had enough rank - and by that I mean sufficient size and load - to be present at the Selection. The new slaves surrounded the center of the sanctum in a half circle. Sad looking creatures, despondent and lonely in the presence of their future masters. It was difficult to tell yet if there were any true prizes. They had been washed and dressed in thin cotton dresses which would remain their attire until a man selected them to be part of his harem. Several of the girls looked interested in the party, while others huddled together behind the row of guards, no doubt virgins who feared the size of our men.
I watched Dama thrust her ass out as she ground her hips together to the dream beat, running her hands between her tits glistening with sweat. I wanted badly to slip my meat into that girl, to suck on her tongue as she sank slowly down my shaft, to feel the orgasms wrack her busty frame as I emptied my seed into her.
I took a deep breath. Calm, Sartorious, calm, I told myself. There is much time yet and many women to see. Titus must think much of that Dama to keep her with him for so long. Had he truly not fucked her?
Titus was watching her dance with his hand on her chain. I had known him since we were boys and I had learned to read his body language long ago. His fingers curled around the arm of his ivory throne and, though he was sitting back, I could tell she was exciting his lust. She looked over her shoulder at us and smiled, her purple and gold skirt blowing enough to reveal her thick ass. In the torchlight her bare collar bone was exquisite. The lines of her long taught neck.
Titus gave the chain a short jerk. Dama spun around, feeling the collar jump around her neck. Titus looked hungry and I wondered if he might not fuck her tonight after all. She smiled at us coyly and shook her head, strutting across the sanctum floor. Titus sat forward in the chair and gave the chain another tug. Now she looked hurt. She shook her head and backed up on the floor, pulling the chain tight.
"Dama!" said Titus and yanked the chain so she flew several feet towards him. He pulled up his robe with his free hand and his cock spilled forward over the throne, a stream of pre-cum flowing past his grotesque foreskin. He gave his meat a tug and the glistening heard began to emerge. He wanted a big release.
"Titus no!" she cried, and pulled back on the chain with both her hands.
Was she mad? Did she not know what was beneath her feet? I held my breath for the girl.
Titus held the chain taught. He gave her no slack. Perhaps she knew what he wanted. Perhaps she knew her dance had inflamed his lust and he would not be satisfied until he claimed her cunt as his own. Titus pumped his foreskin back and forth; his meat began to lengthen; a growl escaped his throat. He did not usually tolerate disobedience for even an instant.
Dama pulled back on the chain with both hands. She was desperate, moaning and grunting, but she could not break Titus' iron grip.
"NO!" she shouted. "TItus Please!"
The drums continued but her shouts had drawn the attention of other men in the sanctum as well as the slaves. A fat admiral whom I despised waddled out near the center of the room to taunt the poor girl as Titus reeled her in.
"TITUS WAIT! WAIT!"
But he would not have it. I could see the fear in her face as he drew her slowly to him. She was resisting with both hands around the chain and still sliding across the smooth marble towards the throne. The more she struggled the more I felt my own cock swell against its bindings.
_________________
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
__________________
Selection night in the Sanctum. The night when we review the women our armies have captured in one of our ongoing campaigns and choose which will join our harems and which will become common slaves. The roof was open and it was a clear, warm night in spring. The stars were out and the smoke from the torches rose to meet them. I was seated to the right of Titus' throne on a velvet dais, sipping wine and watching the festivities. My cock was calm and pulsing steadily against my thigh. I rested my hand on it beneath my robe. It was a good night to be alive in Mythos.
Dama (the same as mentioned in my previous tale) was performing a dance in the center floor. Her short cropped hair bounced against her chin as she shook her hips, her full breasts swaying nicely in the firelight. Titus watched her closely, the end of her chain clutched in his hand.
On the other side of Titus's throne sat other heads of state, senators, admirals and merchants who had enough rank - and by that I mean sufficient size and load - to be present at the Selection. The new slaves surrounded the center of the sanctum in a half circle. Sad looking creatures, despondent and lonely in the presence of their future masters. It was difficult to tell yet if there were any true prizes. They had been washed and dressed in thin cotton dresses which would remain their attire until a man selected them to be part of his harem. Several of the girls looked interested in the party, while others huddled together behind the row of guards, no doubt virgins who feared the size of our men.
I watched Dama thrust her ass out as she ground her hips together to the dream beat, running her hands between her tits glistening with sweat. I wanted badly to slip my meat into that girl, to suck on her tongue as she sank slowly down my shaft, to feel the orgasms wrack her busty frame as I emptied my seed into her.
I took a deep breath. Calm, Sartorious, calm, I told myself. There is much time yet and many women to see. Titus must think much of that Dama to keep her with him for so long. Had he truly not fucked her?
Titus was watching her dance with his hand on her chain. I had known him since we were boys and I had learned to read his body language long ago. His fingers curled around the arm of his ivory throne and, though he was sitting back, I could tell she was exciting his lust. She looked over her shoulder at us and smiled, her purple and gold skirt blowing enough to reveal her thick ass. In the torchlight her bare collar bone was exquisite. The lines of her long taught neck.
Titus gave the chain a short jerk. Dama spun around, feeling the collar jump around her neck. Titus looked hungry and I wondered if he might not fuck her tonight after all. She smiled at us coyly and shook her head, strutting across the sanctum floor. Titus sat forward in the chair and gave the chain another tug. Now she looked hurt. She shook her head and backed up on the floor, pulling the chain tight.
"Dama!" said Titus and yanked the chain so she flew several feet towards him. He pulled up his robe with his free hand and his cock spilled forward over the throne, a stream of pre-cum flowing past his grotesque foreskin. He gave his meat a tug and the glistening heard began to emerge. He wanted a big release.
"Titus no!" she cried, and pulled back on the chain with both her hands.
Was she mad? Did she not know what was beneath her feet? I held my breath for the girl.
Titus held the chain taught. He gave her no slack. Perhaps she knew what he wanted. Perhaps she knew her dance had inflamed his lust and he would not be satisfied until he claimed her cunt as his own. Titus pumped his foreskin back and forth; his meat began to lengthen; a growl escaped his throat. He did not usually tolerate disobedience for even an instant.
Dama pulled back on the chain with both hands. She was desperate, moaning and grunting, but she could not break Titus' iron grip.
"NO!" she shouted. "TItus Please!"
The drums continued but her shouts had drawn the attention of other men in the sanctum as well as the slaves. A fat admiral whom I despised waddled out near the center of the room to taunt the poor girl as Titus reeled her in.
"TITUS WAIT! WAIT!"
But he would not have it. I could see the fear in her face as he drew her slowly to him. She was resisting with both hands around the chain and still sliding across the smooth marble towards the throne. The more she struggled the more I felt my own cock swell against its bindings.