The Roman legions were marching east to Syria, ready to launch an attack on the Parthian Empire, but the road was long. As the army camped for the night the tent of Emperor Titus stood at the heart of the camp, just as he stood at the heart of the empire. Known for his military prowess and his imposing physique, Titus was a figure of legend. His hair was as dark as the night, his face clean-shaven like a true Roman, but his chest was a mat of thick, oiled hair, glistening under the lamplight. His body, sculpted by countless battles, bore the scars of war like badges of honor, each muscle a monument to his might.
Among his retinue was a young guard, barely nineteen, whose name was Lucius. Small, lithe, and with an innocent face that belied the harshness of camp life, Lucius was tasked with guarding the emperor's tent. His youthful energy and the subtle grace in his movements had not gone unnoticed by Titus.
One evening, after the camp had quieted down to the whispers of the night, Titus summoned Lucius into his tent. The air was thick with tension, the oil lamps casting long shadows that danced across the canvas walls. Lucius entered, his uniform consisting of a short leather skirt, which was all part of the guard's attire, leaving his legs bare and his body accessible.
"Tonight I don’t need you guarding me, tonight I need you to relieve me of my stress, and you’re such a pretty boy I know you’ll be perfect," Titus said, his hands finding Lucius's shoulders. His voice was a low rumble that filled the space between them, his touch sending shivers down Lucius's spine.
Lucius' eyes widened, his breath catching as he understood the implication. A small nod, indicating his acceptance. His cheeks flushed with a mix of fear and excitement. The emperor, clad only in his military tunic, approached him, the scent of his skin—sweat, leather, and dust—overwhelming.
Titus chuckled, a sound that was both menacing and inviting. He moved closer, his breath hot against Lucius' neck. "Good. Then serve me."
With a trembling reverence, Lucius reached up, his hands finding the hem of Titus's tunic. He pulled it over the emperor's head, revealing the glory of his body. The sight was breathtaking; every muscle sharp and defined, his chest covered in a thick mat of hair, oiled and shining in the lamplight. Lucius couldn't help but gasp at the sight, his eyes wide with awe.
"You're like a god," Lucius whispered, his voice barely audible, as he trailed his fingers over Titus's broad shoulders, down his arms, marveling at the strength beneath his touch. His hands moved to Titus's chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the coarse hair, the hard, muscled planes.
Titus smirked, enjoying Lucius's worship. "You like what you see, boy?"
Lucius nodded, his eyes still roaming over Titus's body, taking in the scars, the power, the sheer masculinity. "Yes, my lord. You are... magnificent."
He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Titus's chest, kissing the muscles, tasting the salt of his skin. His tongue traced the lines of Titus's abdomen, worshipping each part of him.
Titus's breath hitched slightly, a sign of his pleasure. "That's right, boy, show your emperor how much you admire him." He allowed Lucius this moment of exploration, his own desire mounting as Lucius's hands and mouth moved lower, to the waistband of the emperor's undergarments.
Without hesitation, Lucius freed Titus's erection, his 8 inches standing proudly, already glistening at the tip. Lucius looked up, seeking permission with his eyes. Titus nodded, a silent command, and Lucius took him into his mouth, maintaining eye contact with his emperor even as tears streamed down his cheeks from gagging. He kept up the eye contact, showing Titus he was submitting totally to him.
The warmth, the sensation of Lucius's lips wrapping around him, sent a wave of pleasure through Titus. "That's it, boy, serve your emperor," he growled, his hand finding its way to Lucius's hair, guiding him, though gently, to take more of him.
Lucius moved with tentative eagerness, his tongue swirling around the head of Titus's cock, tasting the pre-cum, the saltiness of his skin. He took more, feeling Titus's girth fill his mouth, stretching his lips. His movements were slow at first, learning, adjusting, but soon he found a rhythm that made Titus groan in approval, all while his eyes never left Titus's, a silent testament to his submission.
"Such a good little slut," Titus praised, his voice rough with desire. "You learn quickly."
After a moment, Titus pulled Lucius's head back, his cock slipping from those eager lips with a wet sound. "Enough. I have other plans for you," he said, his voice thick with need.
Before proceeding, Titus looked at Lucius with a curious smirk. "Are you a virgin, boy?"
Lucius nodded, his cheeks flushing deeper. "Yes, my lord. I have been saving myself for my emperor."
Titus laughed, a deep, resonant sound. "The older soldiers must have been desperate to get between your legs then."
"Many have tried, my lord," Lucius admitted, his voice low with a mix of embarrassment and pride at having held out for the emperor's favor.
Ever since Lucius had been assigned to the emperor's tents two weeks into the campaign, along with a collection of other handsome young soldiers, the praetorian commander had instructed them to keep their holes clean and ready.
With that, Titus began to strip Lucius, removing everything but the short leather skirt, leaving it to cover what he crudely referred to as Lucius's 'boy clit.' The skirt was short enough to reveal the 'boy pussy' between Lucius's legs. Titus spread Lucius's slender, pale thighs, inspecting the hairless, pink hole between them. It was perfect in every way, clearly untouched, the smooth, unmarred skin a testament to Lucius's purity.
"Let's see what a treasure you are," Titus growled, his eyes gleaming with lust at the sight.
Having inspected Lucius's 'boy pussy', Titus lay down on the fur-covered bed and pulled the boy down on top of him, covering the emperor's face with Lucius's cheeks. The emperor then began to feast on the boy's cunt, lapping, kissing, and sucking at the tight hole above him. Gradually, it began to relax and pucker, twitching on Titus's penetrating tongue, readying the boy for his deflowering. Lucius moaned, the sensation of being so intimately explored by the emperor was overwhelming, his body responding to Titus's skilled ministrations.
"Look at you, spread out like a feast for your emperor," Titus growled from beneath Lucius, his voice muffled but still commanding. Near the bed, there was a pot of olive oil and honey mixed together, a concoction meant for lubrication. With one hand, Titus reached out, scooping some of the mixture onto his fingers while his tongue continued its work, ensuring Lucius was well-prepared.
Titus then shifted, laying Lucius on his back on the furs, his legs still draped over Titus's shoulders as he positioned himself. He didn't wait for compliance; he took control, his fingers digging into Lucius's flesh, spreading him further.
With a predatory grin, Titus aligned himself, his thick, hard member pressing against Lucius. It was a sight of raw power, the head glistening with the mixture of oil and honey, veins prominent against the taut skin. Lucius could feel the heat, the size, and knew what was coming.
"Take it all, my little virgin slut," Titus growled, his voice a deep rumble. His first thrust was powerful, making Lucius cry out, his body adjusting to the overwhelming intrusion. The emperor's cock stretched him, the sensation of being filled so completely by Titus's manhood overwhelming.
As he moved inside Lucius, Titus kept repeating, "This pussy is so good, boy," each thrust punctuated with praise that both humiliated and aroused Lucius.
Titus set a brutal pace, his hips snapping forward with the precision of a seasoned warrior. Each thrust was deep, hitting places inside Lucius that made him see stars, his moans filling the tent. The emperor's hands were focused on Lucius's hips, ensuring his positioning for maximum penetration, not on Lucius's pleasure.
"Feel how you're stretched for your emperor," Titus taunted, his words punctuated by hard, relentless thrusts. "You're mine now, broken in by your emperor. This 'boy pussy' is mine to claim."
Lucius could only whimper, his body enslaved to the pleasure and pain that Titus was expertly mixing. "Yes, my lord... all yours," he managed to gasp out between moans.
The emperor's dominance was complete, his body and presence overwhelming Lucius, who was lost in the sensation of being thoroughly taken.
Titus lifted Lucius's legs higher, changing the angle, driving deeper into him. "You're mine to use, to pleasure, to fill," he growled, his thrusts becoming more fervent, his breath ragged with the exertion and pleasure.
"Your cries are music to my ears," Titus whispered, his voice rough with his own approaching climax. "You were made for this, for me."
He didn't touch Lucius's cock, focusing solely on his own pleasure, on the act of breaking in this young, untouched body. The night was long, and Titus was relentless. He turned Lucius over, pressing him into the furs, his hands gripping Lucius's hips as he entered him from behind. This new position allowed for deeper penetration, and Titus took full advantage, each thrust a claim of ownership.
Lucius felt like he was being split apart, yet the pain was laced with a pleasure so intense it was almost blinding. Titus's dominance was absolute; he controlled the pace, the depth, every aspect of their union. He whispered filthy praises, "Look at you, taking every inch like the good little whore you are," each word a lash that both humiliated and aroused Lucius further.
Finally, as the peak of their encounter neared, Titus's movements became more urgent, his grip on Lucius tightening. "You'll take every drop, my new conquest," he growled, his voice thick with the promise of his release. With a few more powerful thrusts, he buried himself deep, his body shuddering as he climaxed, filling Lucius with warmth that felt like a brand of possession, breeding him with his seed.
After he had finished, Titus commanded, "Show me that pussy."
Lucius, still trembling from his ordeal, got on all fours, his ass turned to the emperor. He arched his back and spread his cheeks, exposing his stretched, leaking hole to Titus. The sight of Lucius's now gaping entrance, marked by the emperor's seed, stirred a deep lust and desire in Titus.
"Look at how I've stretched and gaped that hole," Titus murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction and desire. "Such a perfect little slut for your emperor."
Having inspected Lucius's gaped hole, Titus inserted his still hard cock back into his bodyguard's gaped cunt. He pulled the boy into his chest, cuddling up with him, and began whispering praises. "I love this boy pussy," he murmured against Lucius's ear, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possessive desire. "You've pleased your emperor so well."
They lay there, breathing heavily, the air around them heavy with the scent of sex, oil, and honey. Titus didn't pull out this time, instead keeping himself inside Lucius, his weight a comforting press against the boy, who was too spent to move, his body still quivering from the intensity of their encounter.
"You've served your emperor well tonight," Titus murmured after a moment, his voice softer now but no less commanding. "You served like a true Roman."
As dawn approached, Lucius lay beside Titus, the emperor's arm heavy across his body, a possessive claim even in sleep. "Remember, boy, this is just the beginning," Titus whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction.
Among his retinue was a young guard, barely nineteen, whose name was Lucius. Small, lithe, and with an innocent face that belied the harshness of camp life, Lucius was tasked with guarding the emperor's tent. His youthful energy and the subtle grace in his movements had not gone unnoticed by Titus.
One evening, after the camp had quieted down to the whispers of the night, Titus summoned Lucius into his tent. The air was thick with tension, the oil lamps casting long shadows that danced across the canvas walls. Lucius entered, his uniform consisting of a short leather skirt, which was all part of the guard's attire, leaving his legs bare and his body accessible.
"Tonight I don’t need you guarding me, tonight I need you to relieve me of my stress, and you’re such a pretty boy I know you’ll be perfect," Titus said, his hands finding Lucius's shoulders. His voice was a low rumble that filled the space between them, his touch sending shivers down Lucius's spine.
Lucius' eyes widened, his breath catching as he understood the implication. A small nod, indicating his acceptance. His cheeks flushed with a mix of fear and excitement. The emperor, clad only in his military tunic, approached him, the scent of his skin—sweat, leather, and dust—overwhelming.
Titus chuckled, a sound that was both menacing and inviting. He moved closer, his breath hot against Lucius' neck. "Good. Then serve me."
With a trembling reverence, Lucius reached up, his hands finding the hem of Titus's tunic. He pulled it over the emperor's head, revealing the glory of his body. The sight was breathtaking; every muscle sharp and defined, his chest covered in a thick mat of hair, oiled and shining in the lamplight. Lucius couldn't help but gasp at the sight, his eyes wide with awe.
"You're like a god," Lucius whispered, his voice barely audible, as he trailed his fingers over Titus's broad shoulders, down his arms, marveling at the strength beneath his touch. His hands moved to Titus's chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the coarse hair, the hard, muscled planes.
Titus smirked, enjoying Lucius's worship. "You like what you see, boy?"
Lucius nodded, his eyes still roaming over Titus's body, taking in the scars, the power, the sheer masculinity. "Yes, my lord. You are... magnificent."
He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Titus's chest, kissing the muscles, tasting the salt of his skin. His tongue traced the lines of Titus's abdomen, worshipping each part of him.
Titus's breath hitched slightly, a sign of his pleasure. "That's right, boy, show your emperor how much you admire him." He allowed Lucius this moment of exploration, his own desire mounting as Lucius's hands and mouth moved lower, to the waistband of the emperor's undergarments.
Without hesitation, Lucius freed Titus's erection, his 8 inches standing proudly, already glistening at the tip. Lucius looked up, seeking permission with his eyes. Titus nodded, a silent command, and Lucius took him into his mouth, maintaining eye contact with his emperor even as tears streamed down his cheeks from gagging. He kept up the eye contact, showing Titus he was submitting totally to him.
The warmth, the sensation of Lucius's lips wrapping around him, sent a wave of pleasure through Titus. "That's it, boy, serve your emperor," he growled, his hand finding its way to Lucius's hair, guiding him, though gently, to take more of him.
Lucius moved with tentative eagerness, his tongue swirling around the head of Titus's cock, tasting the pre-cum, the saltiness of his skin. He took more, feeling Titus's girth fill his mouth, stretching his lips. His movements were slow at first, learning, adjusting, but soon he found a rhythm that made Titus groan in approval, all while his eyes never left Titus's, a silent testament to his submission.
"Such a good little slut," Titus praised, his voice rough with desire. "You learn quickly."
After a moment, Titus pulled Lucius's head back, his cock slipping from those eager lips with a wet sound. "Enough. I have other plans for you," he said, his voice thick with need.
Before proceeding, Titus looked at Lucius with a curious smirk. "Are you a virgin, boy?"
Lucius nodded, his cheeks flushing deeper. "Yes, my lord. I have been saving myself for my emperor."
Titus laughed, a deep, resonant sound. "The older soldiers must have been desperate to get between your legs then."
"Many have tried, my lord," Lucius admitted, his voice low with a mix of embarrassment and pride at having held out for the emperor's favor.
Ever since Lucius had been assigned to the emperor's tents two weeks into the campaign, along with a collection of other handsome young soldiers, the praetorian commander had instructed them to keep their holes clean and ready.
With that, Titus began to strip Lucius, removing everything but the short leather skirt, leaving it to cover what he crudely referred to as Lucius's 'boy clit.' The skirt was short enough to reveal the 'boy pussy' between Lucius's legs. Titus spread Lucius's slender, pale thighs, inspecting the hairless, pink hole between them. It was perfect in every way, clearly untouched, the smooth, unmarred skin a testament to Lucius's purity.
"Let's see what a treasure you are," Titus growled, his eyes gleaming with lust at the sight.
Having inspected Lucius's 'boy pussy', Titus lay down on the fur-covered bed and pulled the boy down on top of him, covering the emperor's face with Lucius's cheeks. The emperor then began to feast on the boy's cunt, lapping, kissing, and sucking at the tight hole above him. Gradually, it began to relax and pucker, twitching on Titus's penetrating tongue, readying the boy for his deflowering. Lucius moaned, the sensation of being so intimately explored by the emperor was overwhelming, his body responding to Titus's skilled ministrations.
"Look at you, spread out like a feast for your emperor," Titus growled from beneath Lucius, his voice muffled but still commanding. Near the bed, there was a pot of olive oil and honey mixed together, a concoction meant for lubrication. With one hand, Titus reached out, scooping some of the mixture onto his fingers while his tongue continued its work, ensuring Lucius was well-prepared.
Titus then shifted, laying Lucius on his back on the furs, his legs still draped over Titus's shoulders as he positioned himself. He didn't wait for compliance; he took control, his fingers digging into Lucius's flesh, spreading him further.
With a predatory grin, Titus aligned himself, his thick, hard member pressing against Lucius. It was a sight of raw power, the head glistening with the mixture of oil and honey, veins prominent against the taut skin. Lucius could feel the heat, the size, and knew what was coming.
"Take it all, my little virgin slut," Titus growled, his voice a deep rumble. His first thrust was powerful, making Lucius cry out, his body adjusting to the overwhelming intrusion. The emperor's cock stretched him, the sensation of being filled so completely by Titus's manhood overwhelming.
As he moved inside Lucius, Titus kept repeating, "This pussy is so good, boy," each thrust punctuated with praise that both humiliated and aroused Lucius.
Titus set a brutal pace, his hips snapping forward with the precision of a seasoned warrior. Each thrust was deep, hitting places inside Lucius that made him see stars, his moans filling the tent. The emperor's hands were focused on Lucius's hips, ensuring his positioning for maximum penetration, not on Lucius's pleasure.
"Feel how you're stretched for your emperor," Titus taunted, his words punctuated by hard, relentless thrusts. "You're mine now, broken in by your emperor. This 'boy pussy' is mine to claim."
Lucius could only whimper, his body enslaved to the pleasure and pain that Titus was expertly mixing. "Yes, my lord... all yours," he managed to gasp out between moans.
The emperor's dominance was complete, his body and presence overwhelming Lucius, who was lost in the sensation of being thoroughly taken.
Titus lifted Lucius's legs higher, changing the angle, driving deeper into him. "You're mine to use, to pleasure, to fill," he growled, his thrusts becoming more fervent, his breath ragged with the exertion and pleasure.
"Your cries are music to my ears," Titus whispered, his voice rough with his own approaching climax. "You were made for this, for me."
He didn't touch Lucius's cock, focusing solely on his own pleasure, on the act of breaking in this young, untouched body. The night was long, and Titus was relentless. He turned Lucius over, pressing him into the furs, his hands gripping Lucius's hips as he entered him from behind. This new position allowed for deeper penetration, and Titus took full advantage, each thrust a claim of ownership.
Lucius felt like he was being split apart, yet the pain was laced with a pleasure so intense it was almost blinding. Titus's dominance was absolute; he controlled the pace, the depth, every aspect of their union. He whispered filthy praises, "Look at you, taking every inch like the good little whore you are," each word a lash that both humiliated and aroused Lucius further.
Finally, as the peak of their encounter neared, Titus's movements became more urgent, his grip on Lucius tightening. "You'll take every drop, my new conquest," he growled, his voice thick with the promise of his release. With a few more powerful thrusts, he buried himself deep, his body shuddering as he climaxed, filling Lucius with warmth that felt like a brand of possession, breeding him with his seed.
After he had finished, Titus commanded, "Show me that pussy."
Lucius, still trembling from his ordeal, got on all fours, his ass turned to the emperor. He arched his back and spread his cheeks, exposing his stretched, leaking hole to Titus. The sight of Lucius's now gaping entrance, marked by the emperor's seed, stirred a deep lust and desire in Titus.
"Look at how I've stretched and gaped that hole," Titus murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction and desire. "Such a perfect little slut for your emperor."
Having inspected Lucius's gaped hole, Titus inserted his still hard cock back into his bodyguard's gaped cunt. He pulled the boy into his chest, cuddling up with him, and began whispering praises. "I love this boy pussy," he murmured against Lucius's ear, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possessive desire. "You've pleased your emperor so well."
They lay there, breathing heavily, the air around them heavy with the scent of sex, oil, and honey. Titus didn't pull out this time, instead keeping himself inside Lucius, his weight a comforting press against the boy, who was too spent to move, his body still quivering from the intensity of their encounter.
"You've served your emperor well tonight," Titus murmured after a moment, his voice softer now but no less commanding. "You served like a true Roman."
As dawn approached, Lucius lay beside Titus, the emperor's arm heavy across his body, a possessive claim even in sleep. "Remember, boy, this is just the beginning," Titus whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction.
