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Fantasy

It Was All In My Head (Between Friends, part 2)

It’s a new day, and all I’m thinking about is him….Adam. I wrote him that story, and sent it to him. It was a mistake, of course. He’s told me before that he loves me “as a friend,” which means he wouldn’t give me the time of day to fool around.
“I’m outside,” I text him, sitting on his porch. I wait outside, running my fingers through my choppy black hair. I look at my scuffed black Converse high-tops, and wonder about life. The door opens, and I turn around.
“I just…I don’t think I’m safe alone,” I whisper to him, sniffling. He nods, and opens the door wider to let me in.
“It’s okay, Sissy, I don’t mind,” Adam replies, and I follow him into his room. It isn’t what I imagined when writing my previous story, but some of my descriptions are still accurate.
I sit on his floor, glancing at his television. It’s the pause screen for some video game, and I lean my head on his bed. Adam looks at me, worry in his eyes, and sits down.
“I’m glad you came over, I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he says, and I lay down on his floor, resting my head on his lap. His eyes say he didn’t expect that, and his hands remain by his sides.
“Do you know how much it sucks, falling for you when I know you don’t feel the same? When I’m supposed to love him?” I ask, a tear rolling down my face. It traces my nostril, then continues until it absorbs into his pants. I look up at Adam, seeing his discomfort.
“I’m…I don’t know…” He trails off, looking exasperated. He shrugs and looks at his TV screen, then picks up his controller and unpausing the game. He starts playing it, and I watch, but he keeps messing up and throws the controller.
Tears sting my eyes, and I get up, moving my body away from him and leaning on the bed. He looks away, and I bite my lip.
“I could just fucking leave, if that’s what you want. And I don’t just mean your house. I’ll leave you alone, you don’t need any of this,” I say harshly, my voice cracking as tears roll down my face. He looks at me, surprised at my outburst.
“Don’t!” Adam mutters, and I crawl over on my hands and knees. He closes his mouth tight, not saying anything else. I reach out and touch his face, but he grabs my hand softly and pushes it away.
“Please don’t…I’m gross,” he says softly, and I touch his face again, then get on my knees in front of him.
“You’re not gross,” I say, “you’re handsome. Cute. Hot. Why can’t you see that? Why don’t you believe me?” I’m whining, and I hate it. But I need him to believe me. I need him to see what I see.
“I don’t believe you because it isn’t true,” he replies sharply. I take his face in my hands and make him look at me, our eyes reflecting one another.
“You’re fucking attractive. Goddamnit, you are. It’s fucking stupid that you keep arguing with me about it,” I growl, and kiss Adam hard. He recoils a little, but I keep at it, kissing him passionately. He pulls away, panting.
“You can’t do that, Sissy!” He tells me, and I glare at him defiantly, quickly kissing him again, pushing my body to his. He resists, but I don’t give up. I pull off my shirt, kissing him the whole time besides the moment I need to pull it off my head. I’m not wearing a bra, I didn’t grant it necessary.
“Mmmn….st…stop,” Adam tries to say, but I don’t relent. I grab his hands and press them to my bare skin. He tries to pull away, and I still don’t let him. I kiss his neck, and he exhales sharply.
“Sissy…” Adam says softly, but he isn’t resisting as much anymore. He sort of melts against me, and one of his hands goes under my chin, bringing his lips to mine. Our kisses are desperate, as if we know this energy can only last so long.
“Don’t stop,” I whimper, and I unbutton his pants quickly. He kisses my neck, breathing hard and fast, and he kicks his pants off. I untie my high-tops and kick them across the room, then pull down my pants and thrown them where my shoes landed.
“Come here,” Adam says, a look of conflict mixed with lust in his eyes. He pulls off his shirt, throwing it on my pile of clothes and sitting on the bed.
I step lightly, quickly, and straddle his lap. We press our bodies together, kissing more and touching. His hands wander across my back, resting on the lower curve and gripping it softly. My arms go around his neck, and our breathing intensifies.
“I need this…I need you,” I moan, and Adam’s hand goes down to pull his throbbing manhood out of the hole in his boxers. It looks different than what I expected, and he pushes me onto my back, kneeling between my legs.
He leans over me, kissing me again, trailing kisses down my body, to my navel, and I shiver. It feels good to be touched that way, by someone knew.
“Please,” I whisper, and Adam looks up at me, then brings himself back between my legs, pushing in quickly. I cry out, my back arching slightly as he thrusts in and out. My arms go up around his neck, and I gently bite his earlobe.
“God…..” he says breathlessly, thrusting in hard and fast, making me moan loud, making my eyes sting with tears. A few escape my eyes, and he sees.
“Oh god, are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Adam asks urgently, fear in his eyes. He’s stopped thrusting, but I grab his face and kiss him hard, letting him know he must continue.
He keeps going, and my legs grip his waist. I’m tightly grasping him, and I kiss his neck. I feel myself start to climax, and I murmur Adam’s name in his ear, then bite his neck hard as I cum.
“Sissy….” he moans, and I feel him thrust in a few times, hard, and then he releases inside of me, his hot cum filling me. He shakes, going limp on top of me, and we stay there, panting, exhausted, for a few moments.
“What did we just do?” Adam mutters as he pulls out and sits on the edge of the bed, putting his flaccid member into his boxers. He puts his head in his hands, and I go behind him and hug him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and he sighs, shaking his head. He holds one of my hands, and looks over his shoulder at me.
We stay quiet, and I get up and put on my clothes slowly, looking at him. He doesn’t move, and when I’m dressed I hand him his shirt and lay down tiredly on his bed again.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, and he smiles half-heartedly. I walk to his door and look back at him. He doesn’t stop me, so I leave. He doesn’t text me for the rest if the night.

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Fiction

From Friend, to Stepsister, to Lover? Part 3

Hi everyone! I apologize from updating the story, but school, exams, life in general, and all that stuff got in the way. Didn’t have as much time as I thought to write this. But nonetheless, this part is finally finished for all of you guys to enjoy. Can’t believe that this took 24 pages. Holy crap. Anyway, with the past parts, along with this part, and future parts, there obviously will be portions of said parts that won’t make sense. Get over it. It’s fiction, so things that would normally occur in real life might not occur in the story. I hope you guys enjoyed your Christmas, Hanukkah, and any other holiday that you celebrate. Feel free to leave any constructive criticism about the story.

Fiction

Trafficked Love Ch. 9

— THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND VULGAR LANGUAGE. It is fictional and does not depict real people or events. — Call girl, Angel, believes there’s nothing nothing more to life than what she is doing now. But when she falls in love with an undercover cop, and things get heated between her and her pimp, Angel searches for answers. Is this really all she is destined for? Could she escape if she wanted to? Would the outside world accept her if she left this lifestyle behind?

Fiction

Teacher Pt.-3

It’s strongly recommended that you read parts one and two before this, if you haven’t done so already. Parts in italics are meant to represent dialogue spoken in Korean, by one or more characters. Dialogue with grammar and syntax errors are intentional and meant to reflect how Koreans learning English often speak.

Fiction

The Bradford Family Saga (end)

“Penny for your thoughts,” Marsha said quietly.
“Oh, Hi, honey. Did I wake you?”
Marsha shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve been watching your face for a
couple of minutes. I think I know what you were dreaming about.” There was a
wicked gleam in her eye. “You were reliving it, weren’t you?”
Carol just smiled.
“God, that was hot! Is it always that way?”
“No. Just at special times, like then. I’ve had three- ways before,” she said
nonchalantly, “but this time was something else.”
“Because it was family?”
Carol looked at her lovely daughter, an image of her younger self, smiled and
kissed her lightly. “Yes,” she said, “because it was family.”
*************************
Mr. and Mrs. Goodman sat on their veranda and listen to the tinkle of laughter
coming over the wall from the Bradford pool area.
“They certainly seem to be enjoying their reunion. That really was a nice party,
wasn’t it, Arnold? They’re such a lovely family.”
“Yes, it was, Mildred. You don’t see that kind of togetherness anymore, not
much, anyway. Makes me wish our kids were more like theirs.”
“You’re right, dear, they do seem to have something special.” Mrs. Goodman
paused, then turned to her husband.
“I wonder what their secret is?”
THE END
********************************************************************************
I hope you have enjoyed The Bradford Family Saga. All feedback is appreciated.
I can be reached @ [email protected].
Look for more of my stories to be published here, including:
The Wilson Family Saga – A multi-family story of a young man’s sexual journey through his family and his friends. Incest and Interracial theme.
The Princess Steps Out – The kidnapping and sexual abuse (?) of the Princess of Wales
by African Freedom fighters. Note: This story was written many years ago before the
world assigned sainthood to the lady in question. So if your an anglophile please
refrain from negative comments; afterall, it’s just fiction. Celebrity and Interracial
themes.
The Group – The Institution for Alternate Living invites individauls who engage in
consentual incess to discuss the who and whys of their lives.
The Amourous Adventures of the Brady Bunch – The adult Bradys gather for a family
reunion … enough said.
Conversations with a Church Lady – Under hypnosis, the wife of a leading church figure
tells a very different story. Interracial theme.
BONUS EXCERPT: “Potion”
“It’s a real aphrodisiac! I’m telling you it’ll work!”
nerdy Walter Newman gushed.
Sneering, Luther Vaughn, a muscular young black man,
grabbed young Walter’s shirt and violently pushed him up
against a sink. They were in the locker room of the boy’s
gym at South Regional High School.
Walter’s thick glasses almost flew off his blotchy nose.
Walter had a bad case of teenage acne, which was one of the
many reasons he was preoccupied with sex. He didn’t have any
real hope of getting laid, not the way he looked.
“There ain’t no such fuckin’ thing, you fuckin’ dweeb!”
Luther screamed in his face, “And besides, you brainy mother-
fuckin’ jackass, I didn’t pay you to make no bullshit
aphrodisiac, I paid you to make knock-out drops; a good
Mickey Finn! You’re really pissin’ me off, Newman!” He
pushed the young man away in disgust.
“But Luther,” Walter whined, “I can always make knock-
out drops, but this is for real!” He held up a flask of
clear liquid and an audio cassette and rushed on.
“Look, this is a very strong muscle relaxant and
tranquilizer. Give a girl a couple of drops of this and she
becomes very suseptible to suggestion.” He held up the tape.
“Subliminal, hynotic suggestion hidden behind soothing
beach sounds! It’s foolproof! She’ll be begging to fuck her
and afterwards she won’t remember a thing!
“Com’on, Luther, let’s try it!”
Walter jumped when Luther grabbed the vial and tape and
threw them in a refuse can. Surprisingly, the vial didn’t
break.
“Fuck your mumbo-jumbo, asshole!” the black teenager
sneered. “I don’t have problem one gettin’ pussy; black,
brown or white! And for a smart motherfucker you got shit
for brains! Even if that stuff worked, which it don’t; you
think chicks are gonna drink that shit and listen to some
dumbass tape just so a fuckin’ nerd like you can get into
their pants? NOT!”
He grabbed Walter’s shirt again and pushed the smaller
boy towards the locker room door.
“Now get the fuck back to the lab and get to work makin’
my knock-out drops, or I’ll break every motherfuckin’ bone in
your body.”
The door closed nosily behind them but Johnny Wilson
could still hear Luther berate Walter as they walked down the
hall. The fifteen year old peeked around the corner of the
lockers and made sure the coast was clear. The last thing he
wanted was a confrontation with Luther Vaughn. He was bad
news. A broken sneaker lace had held him up after class
making him an unseen witness to Luther and Walter’s crazy
conversation.
An aphrodiaiac! Boy, Johnny thought, Luther’s right,
Walter’s out of his lovin’ mind! That kind of stuff was out
of x-rated science fiction, or Walter’s wishful imagination.
Johnny knew there were two schools of thought concerning
Walter Newman. The first was, he’s was a boy genius and will
win the Nobel for chemistry before he’s twenty-one. The
second was, he’s a dipshit who’s gonna blow himself (and
probably the school, too) to fuckin’ smithereens.
Johnny picked up the vial and tape from the refuse bin
and cautiously looked them over. On impulse, he put the vial
in his pocket, then pulled out his Walkman and slid the tape
in and, holding the headset away from his ears, gingerly
listened. All he could hear was soothing surf sounds. He
waited a moment. If there were secret messages hidden in the
tape he hadn’t heard them. He shook his head but put the
tape in his rutsack and ran off to the lab. He was already
late.
“You’re late, John!” Mrs. Tarr said testily when he
entered the lab. “Are you trying to add to your detention?
If you are you’ve come to the right place.”
Mrs. Tarr was the one of the chemistry teachers and up
to now John thought she was kind of nice, and not bad looking
for an old woman; she was about his mother’s age, but he
hadn’t realized she had a wicked tongue.
“Eh, sorry, Mrs. Tarr. I broke a shoelace and had to
get another.”
Two girls in the corner giggled. Johnny blushed with
embarassment.
Mrs. Tarr made a face and shook her head. “If you two
are finished,” she said to the girls, “take off, and you,
John, get to work. This lab’s a mess and I want it spotless.
Maybe this will teach you that spitballs in the cafeteria
will not be tolerated.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny replied.
The two girls giggled loudly as they left and Johnny’s
face burned even brighter. Grudgingly, he went to the sink,
ran water, then went around picking up dirty test-tubes and
beakers.
“When you have those things soaking, get me a cola from
the lab refrigerator,” Mrs. Tarr commanded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Johnny was rapidly revising his opinion of the chemistry
teacher, but as he took a bottle of cola from the
refrigerator a sudden brainstorm hit him. Why not? he asked
himself. It had to be tested. Not that it was really going
to work, but if it did wouldn’t that put this bad-mouth bitch
in her place. Quickly he took the vial from his pocket,
opened the cola and put two drops of Walter’s potion into the
dark liquid.
John grabbed a clean glass, put ice in it and was
pouring cola into it when Mrs. Tarr asked what was keeping
him. She took the glass and thanked him, rather reluctantly
John thought.
He smiled at her as she took a deep drink.
“Is there something you want, John?” she asked.
Johnny smiled. “I’d appreciate it if you’d listen to
this tape. The background is suppose to help you
consentrate more. I thought it could help me with my
homework and stuff,” he said offering his Walkman to her. “I
just want your opinion.”
Mrs. Tarr put the headphones on and said, “Only for a
moment; I’m busy. Besides, these things are usually a rip
off.”
“Thanks,” Johnny said and poured more cola into her
glass. Absently, she took another sip as she listened to the
soothing sounds of the seashore. A few moments later she pulled
the headset off and shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, it doesn’t do anything for me, but you can never
tell, it may help you to concentrate. Give it a try.”
The distain in her voice told Johnny that Walters’
bullshit aphrodisiac was just that: Bullshit! She had drank
the potion and listened to the tape. Nothing! Nada! Zip!
Johnny mumbled his thanks and went back to the sink and
started cleaning the dirty beakers again. He felt pretty
foolish. He wanted to throw the vial away but his hands were
wet. He’d wait until he was finished and then chuck the shit.
Leroy was right!
A moment later he froze as a hand reached around and
cupped his cock and balls.
“Hi, big boy,” a husky voice whispered hotly in his ear,
Wanna fuck?”
Johnny’s mouth gaped and his eyes bugged. His chest
tighten and his head started pounding. Mrs. Tarr’s tits
rubbed senuously over his shoulder blades
****************************************************************8

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Science-Fiction

Tom’s parallel world – 6

There’s no going back “home.”
He is going fishing with Top Dog Captain Brown, will he survive?
Tom’s reputation of being a sex toy is spreading and giving him a mission.

Fiction

When In Rome

Author’s Notes[b]When In Rome isn’t exactly a series of erotic stories. When it’s completed, it will (hopefully) read more like a novel. Plot, subplots and all. There will be (on average) three separate scenes from three separate Point(s) of View (POV) per chapter. While every chapter will have sex in one form or another, every scene will not. If you want to skip through and only read the sexy bits, every chapter will be headed by listing which scene(s) in that chapter include sex.
Chapter one starts with a fairly vanilla blowjob, but don’t worry. The sex gets dirtier and more violent. And will continue getting dirtier and more violent throughout the series.
I hope you enjoy.
Each POV will be headed by the character’s name.
_____________________________
CHAPTER ONE:
Scene 01: Appius – Sex? Yes.
Scene 02: Callia – Sex? Yes.
Scene 03: Cassius – Sex? Yes.
_____________________________
[center][b]APPIUS[/center]
Lykos was the most powerful man in Rome. And he wasn’t even a true fucking Roman.
His mother had been a Greek whore, but a beautiful one, gifted to Lykos’s father by a rival he’d later killed in his sleep.
His money wasn’t the reason he was respected, though he was rumored to have more than the Emperor. It was not his skill in battle (which was legendary, Appius knew all too well – he’d served with him in the Roman Army). Nor was it the five vicious, sword-wielding, murderous sons he’d fathered. Though they were legends of their own.
It was his whores. Lykos had the best whores in the world. He catered to every whim, every desire. Legal or not, moral or not… you could get it from Lykos.
At least that’s what Appius had heard. It had been fifteen years since he’d last stepped foot in Rome. Almost that long since he’d seen his old friend. He was only here to… pay a debt. Right a wrong.
It hadn’t been hard to find the find the place.
Mention Lykos’ name, and any man with two denari to rub together could give you directions. It wasn’t like you could pass by the building without knowing it was what you were looking for. His friend’s tastes had always verged on the obscene.
The front of the whore house was littered with stone statues; exquisitely carved women with round asses, full breasts and open mouths were crowded around a grotesque rendering of Hades, Greek God of the Underworld. His large stone head was thrown back to the sky in rapture; a stone woman was at his feet, her ass high in the air, her lips eternally circling the head of his cock. Near her knees were two more stone women, one with her face buried between the other’s legs. Various statues surrounded them, all engaged in some sexual act or another.
He’d arrived.
He gave his name to the guard at the door, and paid his way inside.
The air was thick with the the sweet heady scent of wine, and the sweeter smell of poppy smoke. There was music, a hard beat on a drum. And there were women. Naked, all of them. Some were selling their wares right there at the entrance, begging, moaning, screaming as they got filled in every way he could imagine. Some were dancing, their soft skin oiled so that it shimmered in the firelight. Some danced on tables. Some danced chained in cages, pressing their breasts against the bars as they begged to be used by someone, anyone. Every girl was beautiful. Every girl was young. Most looked barely old enough to marry, let alone be selling their cunts in a place where the proprietor claimed to be descended from Hades himself.
“Finally made it back to Rome, I see.”
Appius turned to find his old friend. Age had been kind to the man; he only had a few scars and a head of gray hair to show for the nearly fifty years he’d managed to live.
Appius gripped Lykos wrist as they shook hands. “And in one piece, no less. All I heard on the way back were tales of Hades’ spawn and his famous whores.”
“See anything you like?”
He looked around, but he knew he’d already seen exactly what he wanted. He pointed to a little slut in the middle of the room, apparently glorying in the attention she was getting from her audience.
Lykos’ smile grew wider, and he laughed. “You always had a good eye. Come.”
They rested on twin high-backed chairs as another man rushed off to procure the whore. She turned as she realized she was wanted, her body damp with glistening oil and a little sweat. She pushed her hair, light red – almost blonde, out of her face and bit her bottom lip as she watched him. He watched her too. She was young enough, new enough to the game to still look sweet. Her body was slim and soft, and he could see the firm hint of muscle in her belly, just above her tiny, almost hairless little cunt. He reached for her as she came to him, just grazing his fingers over her pussy. Her breasts were small, but they were firm, and her little pink nipples were already hard.
“You like her? She’s called Callia.”
Callia, his pretty little whore, was already wet as he slid a finger between the lips of her pussy. Her little pink tongue darted over her top lip as she watched him with heavy lidded eyes.
“I like her very much.” Appius worked his finger into her tight little hole, and then deeper as she gasped.
Callia giggled as Lykos slapped her ass.
“Come here, show my friend what you’ve learned.”
She smiled, both proud and excited, as she dropped to her knees as Lykos’ feet. He adjusted his robes, and the girl wrapped her lips happily around the head of his cock. After a few strokes of her tongue, she winked at Appius, and he watched, cock throbbing, as she took the other man’s cock between her pretty little lips. She was on her knees, but she spread her legs wide open as she took his cock deep into her throat. He heard her soft moan as she took it all, her little hips rocking in pleasure as her mouth hit his pelvis. Little slut had swallowed the whole thing. And she wasn’t finished.
She bobbed her head back and forth, fucking his cock with her throat in quick strokes. Her little cunt was glistening wet. She barely took time to breathe.
“That’s enough. Off.”
She pouted as she sat back on her heels, her eyes still longingly fixated on her boss’s cock.
Lykos nodded his head toward Appius. “Now him.”
Her eyes flashed with excitement as she climbed over to sit between his knees.
She grinned at Lykos as her fist circled Appius’ cock. “Yes, Father.”
He barely had time to react. Her mouth was already on his cock, her expert little tongue working over his shaft, getting him wet and ready for her mouth. His cock throbbed as she placed a soft little kiss on the head, and he glanced over at Lykos as she began to slide him down her throat.
“Father?”
Lykos laughed. “Forgot to mention that, did I?”
“Wasn’t aware you had a daughter.” Appius groaned as she guided him past her mouth, hands curled into fists as the tip of his cock worked its way into her hot, tight little throat. He thrusted his hips up, just the slightest bit, to feel her tighter around him.
“Its been awhile. I didn’t have her when you last saw me.”
He looked down at the little whore at his feet, his cock sliding between her full little lips as her father watched. “And how is it a daughter of yours is on her knees sucking cock in a whore-house? I find it hard to believe your wife would allow it.”
“She doesn’t belong to Lyssanda. Whose dead, by the way.”
That made more sense. The slut had fair skin, big blue-green eyes, light hair. Even more telling, she was, as far as he could see, pleasant to be around. Obviously not Lyssandra’s child. He fucking hated Lykos’ wife. Always had. Couldn’t say he was sorry to hear that. He doubted Lykos was either.
He groaned as her hand cupped his balls, her mouth fucking his cock at a furious pace. He was too close, and he was enjoying this far too much to let her taste his cum this soon.
He slapped her hard across the cheek and fisted his hand in her hair. “Slow the fuck down.”
She jerked. Her watery eyes lowered away from his as her father laughed. Her cheek bloomed with the red imprint of his fingers.
“Little whore gets too excited sometimes.”
She slowed. Obediently. He liked that in a whore. He leaned forward, rewarding her with soft slaps to her little tits. Her throat vibrated around his cock as she moaned, and tightened as he pinched her nipples between his fingers. He slammed his cock harder down her throat as he stood up. He took her by the hair, and guided her head. He wanted it faster now. He looped her hair around his fist, pulling her hard, yanking her head back and forth as he set the pace. He could see the saliva, wet around her mouth as she gagged around his cock. Patrons and whores alike were watching him fuck her throat, and he liked it.
“You like that?” He asked her, knowing that she did. Her round little ass was up in the air, her hips rocking back and forth and her strangled, muffled cries carried over the music as his cock pounded into her little open mouth. He watched her eyes as his dick disappeared and reappeared past her lips, watched as her mouth stretched wide to take him. She was sucking hard, her little pink cheeks hollowing and her tongue worked fast little circles on the underside of his shaft even as she choked.
She sucked a dick like she was born to do it. Her cheeks flushed, eyes half-closed, pussy soaked; she loved it. Loved getting her face fucked in a room full of people, loved that she was being watched, that she was desired. He wondered if she liked that her own father was watching.
“Stay on your knees, lean back, open your mouth,” he commanded.
She obeyed. Her little breasts shook as she panted. Her eyes were watering from the assault on her throat, but she opened her mouth wide. She wanted his cum. She was desperate for it.
“Please,” she begged. She squeezed her tits with a soft little whimper as he stroked his cock. He was so close to her that his dick slapped against her lips as he pumped his fist over the length.
He groaned as he finally came. Thick cum hit her lips, her nose, her tongue. She whimpered, struggling to keep her mouth open. Her tongue twitched, she looked like she was fighting herself not to try to lick the cum off her lips. When he was finally spent, she closed her eyes, head tilted back. She trembled as he looked down at her, her pretty, lightly freckled face covered in his cum.
“Swallow it.”
She grinned as she obeyed. Her moans were soft, but he heard them, as she licked the cum off her lips.
“Good girl.”
She blushed as she got to her feet, and Lykos pulled her closer to him. His hand snaked up between her legs and pushed to of his fingers into her cunt. He head rolled back, face to the ceiling, eyes closed. Appius watched her thin, young little body shake as her father finger fucked her cunt right there in the open.
Lykos slapped her ass and beckoned to two of his guards. “Take Callia to be cleaned.”
Her eyes widened like she’d just remembered something and her hands flew to her mouth.
“Yes, yes. Your brother is waiting for you. Go.”
Her body shook as the guards took her by the arms. She looked afraid.
Appius had heard all about Lykos’ sons. There wasn’t a man in the country who didn’t fear them. Especially the eldest, Cassius. He’d met him, some fifteen or so years ago. He’d been a sullen, angry fourteen year old boy who wanted nothing to do with anything but a sword.
Apparently he’d grown into a fearsome man. He hadn’t expected anything less.
He felt sorry for the poor little whore if that’s where she was headed.
[center]CALLIA[/center]
Callia shifted, wincing as the stone floor dug hard into her knees. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest. The chain attached to her metal collar was jingling; that’s how she knew how badly she was shaking. Her stomach churned, her was mouth dry. Tears gathered in her eyes. She was having trouble catching her breath.
She was chained to the bedpost of her oldest brother’s bed, and she’d been late getting to his room. She was supposed to be getting ready when her father had called her over to suck that man’s cock. She’d forgotten that Cassius was expecting her, but even if she hadn’t forgotten, it wasn’t like she could have told her father ‘no.’ Lykos expected complete obedience from all of the women he owned, and she was no exception. The fact that she shared his blood made no difference to him. Her mother has been a slave. That made her a slave as well.
Her brother’s slaves had been furious when she’d arrived late. They were usually gentle with her as they prepared her for him, but not this time. She wasn’t the only one who would be punished, even though it was her fault alone. So they’d bathed her with water far too close to scalding, scrubbed her skin with wire brushes until she was bright pink and begging them to stop. They had been gentle when they held her legs open to shave her, though. Cassius would have been livid if they’d marred her skin before he got his hands on her.
Now she knelt, freezing on the stone floor. Her skin had been freshly lotioned so it would be supple and soft under his hands, and his cane or whip. Her hair was still damp, curling softly around her face.
She trembled, from both cold and fear as the door opened. How angry would he be with her? She tried to keep her eyes trained on the floor, but he was undressing. He didn’t look at her or speak to her as he took off his clothing. He never did. It was their secret little game. She’d pretend like she wasn’t watching him, and he’d pretend like he didn’t notice. It was the only disobedience he allowed.
She dropped her eyes as he stalked over to her, as he stood in front of her. His cock was hard already, long and thick and curved slightly to the left, bigger than their other four brothers’ cocks. Even far bigger than their father’s. She reminded herself not to lick her lips. She had to obey, even though she craved him. Even though she was terrified of him.
He didn’t speak even as he unhooked the chain from her collar and jerked her to her feet. She could tell he was furious; his body hummed with pent-up rage and her stomach dropped into her feet. Would this be the day he lost control? Would this be the day she met the side of her brother that the entire Republic was terrified of? They were both frightened and reverent of him, Rome’s own personal God of Death in mortal flesh.
He pushed her hard against the apparatus he’d had made especially for her body, and strung her arms up and tied them high above her head with coarse ropes. She was facing away from him, her arms tied just high enough that she could barely stand on the tips of her toes. A belt circled her waist, preventing her from any freedom of movement.
She didn’t even have time to brace herself before the first blow. It was the cane. And it landed across the backs of her legs, just under her ass with a stinging thwack. She hissed in air, it felt like a line the length of the cane had been sliced with a straight razor. It burned, even more than usual, on her icy skin. She whimpered. Five more hits followed, each one harder and more painful than the last. Each accompanied by the sound of the cane hitting her flesh, and the burning, searing pain. She slipped, sagging against her ropes. Had it not been for the belt, she’d have hurt herself. Maybe separated her arm from her shoulder.
Her brother was against her back before she could find her footing, holding her still before the belt could dig into her skin. Her toes found the ground again as his lips found her ear.
“You disobeyed me, Callia. What was your order?”
She shivered against him. His skin was warm, hot even and she could feel his cock pressing hard against her back. “I was to go to work. To dance for the men, to let them touch me. To make them want me. But not to let them fuck me.”
His teeth grazed her neck. “So you remembered. I’d hoped you’d just forgotten.”
He pulled away from her, and the cane cracked hard against her ass. She bit down hard, but couldn’t keep from crying out. It hurt; it hurt so fucking badly on her soft, oiled skin. Her breasts heaved against the board, the material rough against her sensitive nipples. His cane worked up her back in strokes that seemed to grow harder with every count. By the time he reached her shoulders, she was choking back sobs.
His hand snaked around her body, and he caught her nipple between his fingers. At first it felt good and then he pinched harder… twisted it between his thumb and forefinger until she cried out.
“Why did you disobey my order?”
She could taste her salty tears against her lips. She’d finally done it. “F-father commanded it. The man was his friend. He told me to suck his cock. I wouldn’t-”
He was back against her, his skin pressing hard against the welts that covered her skin. He kissed her neck before pulling away. He struck her again. And again. This time working his way back down starting at her shoulders. He criss-crossed the strikes over the last set. Her back, she knew, would look like a finely drawn grid. Every lash, every inflamed red strike, would be perfectly equidistant from the last. They would cross in the exact same place, every time. He was that controlled. That methodical.
“You wouldn’t what, Sis? I saw you. I watched. You were enjoying it. You loved that father was watching your face get covered in another man’s cum.”
Callia whimpered after a hoarse, tear-filled laugh. Her voice was raw. “Of course I did.
She tried to turn to face him. He moved so that he could look in her eyes.
“Thats what I was trained for. How old were you when you got your first wooden sword, Cassius? Before you had ever received one day’s training? I was far younger than that when I began mine. I was taught, and trained and educated on how to please. How to dance, how to tease. How to suck, how to fuck. I started so early I barely remember the early years. Of course I loved it. How could I not?”
She tensed as his hand neared her face, she never knew if he would stroke her cheek or slap it. He brushed away the tears on her face. She tried to ignore the hope that rose in her chest.
“Who owns you Callia?”
She gritted her teeth against the fear. She knew that answer he wanted. She also knew the truth. She could lie and please him. Or she could tell the truth. No one lied to Cassius.
“Father.” She admitted defiantly, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Father owns me. Body and mind. He controls when I eat, when I sleep, when I fuck, and if I get to live, Cassius. And daughter or not, if there is ever a day when I refuse him, he would not hesitate, nor even blink, as he killed me.”
Her brother’s body tensed against her, shaking and seething with anger and she knew she’d given the wrong answer. When his blue eyes met hers, she was paralyzed with fear. She’d never seen that much rage in one man’s face. She should have lied, she should have-
He jerked her face to his, their noses touched. His jaw clenched and she could feel his hand shaking, jerking with fury. But his voice was quiet. Calmer than she’d ever heard him. It was terrifying.
“Do you think I’d let that happen?”
Her body sagged with relief. She finally felt like she could breathe. She leaned her face against his, and his lips found the tears on her cheeks.
He licked away the salty tears on her face and stepped behind her. He kicked a step between her legs for her to stand on, and moved the belt up, holding her in place at the perfect height for…
“Tell me, little sister. Do you think I’d let him?”
“No.” She breathed hard as he pushed her legs open. Her wrists were still tied, the coarse material chaffing her skin. She wasn’t wet, not yet. She’d been too afraid; but not afraid of being hurt. Afraid that she’d lost his favor.
He didn’t care. His cock was between her legs, and then, in one fast, painful, burning stoke he was inside her. She screamed against the board she was tied to as he filled her. His cock, it was so thick. So hard, it hit so deep inside her cunt. It even hurt when she’d had time to fully prepare, time to get wet… But he liked it when it hurt her. Liked to force his way in dry and feel her cunt get wet around him. And she liked when she pleased him. She could feel his skin against hers as she stilled, and his mouth hot against her neck. His teeth dug at her skin as he stretched her tight little pussy to fit around him. Short strokes, never pulling out more than an inch.
His teeth grazed her ear. “That’s it Callia, just like that. I love feeling you get wet around me. So wet.”
He pulled back, leaving only the thick head of his cock in her pussy, and then drove it back in. Harder, faster than the first. He pressed his chest against her, and the welts from her beating burned and ached, but it didn’t matter. The pain didn’t matter because he was inside her, fucking her, pounding her little cunt while she screamed for him. It was worth it.
He was deep inside her when she felt him fumbling with the belt, could hear his frustrated gasps as he tore it off the board. He pulled out and spun her until she faced him. He stared into her eyes, bit at her lip and knelt to pick up his sword.
She shivered as he traced the razor sharp point up her belly, and up, between her breasts. He turned it horizontal, and held it to her throat as he slammed his cock back inside her. He stayed there still. Watching her, his blade to her throat.
Callia met his eyes, holding herself perfectly still. Still as a statue. And then she squeezed her cunt hard around his cock… and smiled. She felt his cock jerk inside her, his muscles tighten as he stroked one more time. She knew what was coming. She wrapped her legs tight around his back, and his mouth covered hers as he cut the ropes that bound her wrists.
It had been a test. To see if she feared him in that moment. She’d passed.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifted her like she weighed nothing and threw her on the bed. And then he was on top of her, between her legs, cock once again buried in pussy. Where it belonged.
He wasn’t gentle. He slapped her face as he fucked her harder and deeper than any man ever had. He held her hands, still braceleted with rope, above her head, pining her still as he filled her, over and over. Her back arched off the bed as her legs began to shake, and she writhed underneath him.
“Cassius.. I’m-”
He kissed her neck softly before his hands moved to circle her throat. “I know. Cum for me. Cum with my cock inside you.”
His hands tightened on her throat as her cunt tightened on his cock. Her screams were muffled, and he choked her, hard, as her wet little cunt shook around his cock. Her eyes were wide open, watering as she struggled to breathe, struggled to scream… but it was Cassius’ name on her lips as she came with her brother’s cock deep inside her.
He released her throat as she collapsed, breathless and smiling, back against the bed.
The door slammed open. She barely tilted her head until she she could see her brother. Well, a different brother. Marcus. The youngest of the boys, but still almost six years older than her.
“Cass, they’ve found another one. We need to leave now.”
Cassius ignored him. She smiled. He wasn’t done with her yet.
[center]CASSIUS[/center]
Fucking Marcus.
He ignored his youngest brother as he drove his cock back inside his sister’s wet, still trembling cunt. She was breathless underneath him, pussy still gripping his cock hard, still shuddering with aftershocks. He’d wanted to taste her, kiss her mouth, bury his face in her neck as he filled her with cum… but they had an audience now. He would not show his brother his weakness. He only had one. He’d kill anyone. Sit back and watch anyone be killed if he could gain from it. Brothers, father… He hadn’t shed a tear or blinked an eye when his mother died. But he could not lose Callie. He’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her. No one could know that. Because then she could be used against him.
They all fucked her. His father, all of his brothers. But she meant nothing to them. She was just a pretty toy to be played with. Something to amuse them, to pass the time.
He needed to hurt her. Needed Marcus to see. He hauled his hand back and slapped Callia hard across the face. He felt the slap himself. His palm stung, but she’d squeezed tight around his cock, and her hips pushed off the bed, driving her little cunt up to meet him.
He could hear himself, a low, steady growl barely audible over her frantic cries. Could hear the sound of his cock driving inside her, his balls slapping against her ass.
Her lips were full, red and swollen from his rough kisses. Her eyes were still watery and his hand print blazed red and angry on her cheek. Her throat was red and raw. He knew that tomorrow it would be bruised with the perfect impression of his fingers and every time he saw her he’d think about his hands on her throat and that look in her eye. Fuck, he needed to slow down. Slow.
He hovered over her, her back arching as she grinded against his cock. If he was the type to smile, this was one of the rare moments when he would. He turned to look at his brother, a look that had prompted many a man to turn tail and run. A look that promised a slow and painful death.
“Enjoying the show, Brother?”
Marcus shrugged. “Seen better. Done better, probably to the same whore.”
Cassius tensed. He was not going to kill his brother. He wasn’t. He repeated that to himself. Made it a mantra. “Get out Marcus. I’ll meet you downstairs when I’m finished. Go.”
Marcus was only twenty. And not that bright. But for once, he listened.
Cassius waited for the door to click shut, and this his mouth was on Callia’s.
He slid inside her, his pace still slow. But deep. If he slowed his strokes he could go so much fucking deeper inside her, drive it up until his sister’s pretty little eyes rolled back in her head.
“I love hurting you, Cal.”
She smiled. It was a weak, exhausted, sated smile and it made his fucking cock jerk.
He wrapped his hands around her throat. One last time. He tightened them as he impaled her, his hands catching the breath in her throat. He choked her, watching her gasp and struggle against him as he pounded her cunt, fucked it raw, made sure she’d be sore afterward. His cock throbbed inside her as he watched her face turn red. He could push it to the last second. She wouldn’t fight him. Even as his cock drilled her and she gasped for air and started to go limp and dizzy, she wouldn’t try to pry his hands off her neck.
She stared up at him, choking, and he stared down at her tear filled, bloodshot eyes. There was fear in her gaze. Of course. But there was something else, something he’d never seen in the eyes of another human soul, not even his brothers. Trust. No matter how badly he hurt her, she knew she was safe. He lov- Don’t even think it, Cassius.
He let her go, and she gasped and choked against his mouth as he came. He covered her body with his, spilling hot, thick cum deep inside his little sister’s soaking wet cunt. He could feel her shaking again, coming again with him, his mouth catching her screams as she did.
She was breathless, still whimpering as he pressed his forehead to hers.
“I want to kill them all Callie.” He finally admitted, his cock still buried inside her.
She looked up at him, exhausted and completely satisfied. “Who?”
“Every man I see inside your mouth. Inside your cunt. Or your ass. Every man that touches what belongs to me. And when I see you cum, screaming like that with another man inside you… sometimes I want to kill you, too.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
He smiled. He couldn’t help it. He kissed her lips.
“Never,” he promised.
“You want me all to yourself?” She grinned as if that were the craziest thing she’d ever heard.
“No.” He watched her tremble as he ground his hips against hers. “I still want to see you get fucked. But I want them to have to go through me, to know that the only reason they get to touch you is because I allow it. I want them to know that I own you.”
She bit her lip as she grinned up at him. “I’d like that.”
He sighed. There was work to be done. He pulled his cock out of her pussy slowly, watching her shudder. “Clean me up, Callie.”
She smiled and got to her hand and knees. She knelt between his legs and he stared at the patchwork of angry red welts on her back as she licked his cum and hers off his dick. He closed his eyes, reveling in her soft moans as she kissed and licked and sucked him greedily.
He stroked her face one last time as she helped him dress.
“Stay in here tonight, Callia. I’ll tell father that I wasn’t finished with you. I want you in my bed when I get home.”
She looked puzzled. Unsure. Scared, even. “You… you want me to sleep in your bed?”
He kissed her forehead as she strapped his sword to his waist. “Yes. Now turn around. I want to see your back one more time before I leave.”

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