DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2024 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: Erotic Horror, LGBT themes, Incest, MC, Masturbation, Corruption, WS, Coercion, NS, Rape, Young, Magic, Blasphemy, Devil Worship, Demons, Occult, Satanic Rites
CREATED: 01.08.2024 (V15)
Emperor 2
ABOUT THE EMPEROR TAROT
The Emperor Tarot is the Fourth Card of the Major Arcana. The Emperor represents a willful and dominant lover, who likes to be in control. You may find that the Emperor is a selfish lover, who puts his or her desires first (beware they can be cruel, wicked, and even perverse). Being in a relationship with the Emperor could feel as if you are walking on eggshells since the Emperor will not forgive you if you do something he or she doesn’t like — The Emperor Tarot is about sex with a partner of power and status that will involve your complete submission.
THE EMPEROR (SYNOPSIS)
The old Emperor is dead. The helm of his empire should have been taken over by his eldest son, Felix. The old Emperor was wise, benevolent, and much loved by his people — and Felix was also held with much regard — but now he too lies comatose and close to death. The old Emperor’s second son, Gaius, is arrogant, selfish, and crafty. Some say that he even had a hand in poisoning his older brother so that he could rule instead. Where his father, proclaimed Christian beliefs, upheld the teachings of the Bible, and lived with honor, respect, and civility — his second son is the complete opposite. He indulges in promiscuous sex and every taboo possible. Under the consul of a hermaphroditic witch, named Aelia, he begins to unravel all that is good and decent in the Empire — replacing it with evil and wickedness — something we all need more of.
THE EMPEROR — CHARACTERS
- Gaius (16) – The second eldest son of the Emperor
- Dresus (14) – The younger brother of Gaius
- Lovita (12) – The sister of Gaius
- Felix (18) – The eldest son of the Emperor
- Nonus (15) – A jealous gay lover of Gaius
- Aelia (28) – A hermaphroditic witch, occultist, and the consul to young Gaius
- Ursus (12) – Slave boy, sex slave, effeminate, and slender
- Marcus (50) – Aid and advisor to Emperor Brutus, a latent homosexual
- Pricilla (40) – Second wife of the Emperor, mother to his four children
- Abdul Bin Marid (16) – Son of Marid, Shaitan Warlord of the East
- Heliogabalus aka Helios (20) – Ruler of the South, transvestite
- Little Eros (6) and Bacchus (16) – both sex slaves of Pricilla
“The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls.” Edgar Allen Poe
EMPEROR 2 — CHAPTER FIVE — THE DARKER PATH (2,242 WORDS)
“The road of light no longer leads into the future. I see a shadow that envelopes all. The balance has significantly shifted. Power. Lust. Greed. These forces move us, in ways that we are often not unaware of, and the path spirals downwards in the furtive darkness of the obloquy and the malicious … ” — Extract from the secret journal of Marcus, Aid, and Consul, to Emperor Brutus, now deceased.
xxxxx
“What the fuck!” screamed Gaius.
Frustrated and angry, he grabbed the first thing he could find, which happened to be a priceless Ming Dynasty vase, and threw it hard at the wall. It smashed into a hundred pieces. Unsatisfied, he grabbed another and did the same.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
The day of his coronation had not yet been set. Why? His people would be restless for his ascendency. He needed to claim his prize. Nothing seemed to be moving forward fast enough. He had been chosen by Satan himself and Gaius was by nature, very impatient. His older brother, Felix, was supposed to just wither away and die. But it was taking forever. Why wasn’t his brother in his grave yet? Why was it that he seemed to be hanging on to his pathetic life? Fuck him. The anticipation was driving Gaius insane.
Maybe, he thought, he could just “hurry him along” — but Aelia, his occult witch, that had poisoned his brother, had warned him not to move too fast. She said that it would draw unwanted attention, or worse, suspicion from his, ever-vigilant mother, Pricilla.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck”
xxxxx
Pricilla looked over her eldest son, Felix, who had been comatose since his father died. Her beautiful son. Her handsome son. Her heroic and valiant son. Her husband’s passing words remained in her head.
“This may be the work of dark magick. Someone has done this. I know it in my bones.”
She had thought about precious else since his passing. The Emperor had been a hard man to be married to. Always so righteous. Always thinking of others. Always so religious. He had, subconsciously, held back her secret sexuality. But he was now gone from this world. And she was left with this mess!
She held Felix’s limp, damp hand and sighed to herself.
At that moment Aelia appeared. Aelia usually managed to avoid any direct contact with the rest of Gauis’ family, but Pricilla had insisted that she meet with her. Marcus knew where to find her. Now there was no avoiding this potential altercation. What could it be about? Did she suspect something? Maybe it would be best not to meet at all — there would be a time to fight and a time to flee — which one was this?
“We’re alone here,” said Pricilla in an almost disarming matter, “Nobody but Marcus will know that we ever met. I know you are very close to Gauis. You understand what I am saying?”
“Well,” replied Aelia. “Actually, I don’t understand?” she lied.
Her tone was unsure and hesitant, but also extremely cautious.
“Let’s pretend for a moment,” said Pricilla, “That you could help me with something important. Something that would mean everything to me.”
“Pretend?”
“Yes. Let’s just pretend,” repeated Pricilla as she stepped close to Aelia, “We’re not so dissimilar … you and I … you know. I was once wooed by a powerful young man. I became his lover. His wife. His empress. I know what you see in Gauis. He’s handsome. He’s potentially the heir to his father’s legacy.”
Pricilla purposefully stroked Aelia’s long black hair with her left hand.
Aelia wasn’t so easily charmed by Pricilla’s soft gestures. Aelia didn’t move a muscle. She was unsure where Pricilla was going with this. She did, however, feel a strange energy, and the attention of this strong and determined woman was having an effect on her. For some unexplained reason, Aelia felt her cock twitch and harden beneath her thin gown.
“My husband was a staunch and serious man. Yes, we made love. I gave him three beautiful children. But women know how to fake orgasm. We do it all the time. Make your man feel powerful, strong, and dominant. But, we both know that it’s a lie. We have other passions that we think about when their boring cocks are fucking us.”
Pricilla’s right hand stroked the front of Aelia’s robe, just where her hermaphroditic cock was concealed beneath her shapeless gown.
“Let’s pretend that I know what you have done. You did it for love. For your loyalty to Gaius. But Gaius is not emperor material. He’s just a weak fornicator with no ambition to make you his wife. A concubine, maybe. A disposable asset.”
Aelia felt Pricilla’s hand stroking her firmly through the fabric of her gown. She could have retreated. She could have refused the woman’s sexual advance. Aelia was no weak slave. She had an occult power of her own. But there was an attraction and her body seemed to want this woman to touch and caress her.
“But, let’s pretend that I have another offer to make you,” continued Pricilla, “That if you administer the antidote, and Felix gets better, I promise your hand in marriage to him. That he will be the Emperor and you will be his Empress … What say you?”
Pricilla’s hand now gripped Aelia’s, not-so-secret, erection. Her expert fingers gripped her shaft and tugged at it as she drew the transgendered witch closer to her — so close that their lips were almost touching.
“Well. If we’re pretending,” answered Aelia, “I mean, if, right? I would certainly think it to be a serious offer. But how can I trust you? What if Felix isn’t into hermaphroditic cock?”
As she said the word “cock”, Pricilla’s fingers gripped her erection even tighter through the thin material of her gown and began to masturbate her faster.
“Nnghfff …” Aelia let out a sharp breath.
“Yes … Yes … Trust is such a delicate thing. Be sure that you cannot trust Gauis,” said Pricilla, as she continued to stroke the witch’s erect cock hard, and fast, “Gaius is just a stupid boy. Untrustworthy. Unreliable. If I have learned anything about statecraft it is that my word is my bond. And if you do this for me, I will not go back on my word.”
Pricilla leaned forward and kissed Aelia on the lips. It was a soft and disarming gesture. Female to feminine. Aelia pressed back against the older woman’s lips. Aelia could feel the heat of this woman’s secret passion. Her full lips were hot and moist. Delicious in fact. Their gaze met as they both looked at each other intensely as Percilla began to grind her womanly hips against Aelia’s bulging groin.
“My son will be into whatever I tell him to be into. And you will share both our beds. I want you. I have imagined fucking you ever since you started fucking Gaius. You deserve better. Felix, you and I … we will do great things together for this empire.”
xxxxx
Aelia thought about all that had happened. Sex with Pricilla had been invigorating.
Her situation was precarious but also very promising. On one hand, she had the eye of Gaius, Pricilla’s second oldest son, and the next in line to be emperor. They’d plotted together to kill his older brother so that he could become emperor and empress … and their plan could still work.
On the other hand, Pricilla’s offer, to help her cure her dying son, in exchange for his hand in marriage and a new alliance could also prove to be a powerful situation — both required a level of trust that the witch was not at all that comfortable with. They both had the potential to go back on their word. Both had the power to have her eliminated — Marcus was still at large — and his agenda was neither clear nor aligned with either, temperamental Gaius, or his evil mother.
No, there was another way. A third option. She thought about the Queer Queen of the South. Yes, there were many angles yet to be explored. She smiled to herself. She was not a pawn on this table. But it was far too soon to make her move. She would let things play out. The remedy for Felix would not be immediate. Gaius would still have an opportunity to kill him while he was weak. Pricilla was posturing for greater leverage.
For a moment, she relaxed from these troublesome dilemmas.
She’d observed the comings and goings of young Lovita, and her older brother, Dresus. They’d become virgin lovers — but the sweetness seemed to have soured — Gaius had been involved. Incestuous fuckers. All of them. It was their family’s weakness. Their perversions were their Achilles heal.
As she saw it, Satan favored the strong. Satan’s power was between her legs. She was the Baphometic goddess. She was the only one blessed with two sets of sexual organs. With a rock-hard cock and a juicy cunt, it was her birthright to rule. She was the one who should inherit the ultimate power and have all bow down to her, worshiping her sexual organs, offering sacrifice, and appeasing her thirst for wickedness.
Aelis began to masturbate with that thought. Her busy fingers penetrated her oily cunt-hole, while stroking her serpent of a cock. She was both Adam and Eve. She was the Devil’s daughter. A blessed creation of Lilith incarnate.
As she stroked, her mind returned to young Lovita.
She was lovely, as her name announced. The girl was ready for breeding. She imagined pressing the young girl’s mouth against her hungry cunt. Her unwillingness was an extra thrill. Her vagina convulsed at the thought of her almost suffocating the young girl, as she imagined violently face-fucked her against the hard mattress. Then, at the right moment, impaling her young body upon her Baphometic spear — her evil cock, thrusting deeply into the girl’s fragile body, raping her dry little cuntlet, as she screamed.
Unsatisfied, her twisted mind then imagined the girl’s brother, Dresus. So young and potent. The quiet boy would be easy to manipulate. She imagined him naked and on all fours. Maybe she’d caught the two of them engaged in their incestuous love play. Yes, she’d watched them having sex, and now it was her turn to take him — sodomizing him for the glory of Satan — fucking his virgin anus until it was left, gapping like a quaking cave, and filled with her Lilith’s semen.
Oh, what delicious joys. What wonderful conquests. Her cunt quivered and rippled in orgasm at the same instant as her cock throbbed and shot several ropes of clear semen into the air. She gasped, half laughing, half groaning. She lay back. Her face, neck, and tits were covered in her cum. So much to do. So little time. She sucked her cunt-flavored fingers and then wiped the semen from her chest, scooping it up and eating her offering to Lilith.
xxxxx
Queen Helios, the Ruler of the South, had been pleasantly surprised, to receive the Boy Emperor’s Consul, Aelis. She’d hope for such a visitation. Maybe not so much from the Consul, but from Boy Emperor himself — but she wasn’t disappointed. The Consul would have traveled a long distance to make such a visit with the effeminate transvestite, who had been dubbed the “Queer Queen” of the South.
The Queer Queen had felt that there had been a strong potential for an accord with a young and perverted heir to the throne. He was so unlike his staunchly religious father. Gaius seemed open to “her kind”, and had none of the hang-up of his father’s old cronies. They’d all openly despised her. They’d turned their back on the South. The Queer Queen hoped, that maybe the Consul’s visit, was to seek a deeper bond between their two domains.
The Queer Queen had gone to a lot of trouble in advancing her position with the heir. Her famous artisans had meticulously crafted an erotic throne — that was, in fact, a replica of her own. It penal seat provided the perfect prostate massage whilst penetrating her anus. She’d presented it as a special gift for the son of the dead emperor. The Queer Queen had even kowtowed before Gaius, offering her mouth in homage to his splendid young cock, and performing oral sex upon the boy, as he was seated upon the cock throne (its phallus deeply inserted in his anal passage as she slid down upon his needy cock). It had been her way of showing respect.
All had all seemed to have gone well. She’d subsequently heard a few stories about Gaius’ Consul — that she was, in fact, intersex — a fully functional hermaphrodite with both cock and cunt. An abomination that only could be conceived by demons. The Queer Queen certainly hope that was true. Maybe this meeting would enlighten her further about Gaius’ sexual preferences. A marriage between Gaius and the Queer Queen would certainly bring her even greater power.
“Queen Heliogabalus,” formally bowed the Boy Emperor’s Consul, Aelis.
“Ah, Your Excellency, Aelis,” replied the Queer Queen, “Welcome to my humble abode!”
The hermaphroditic witch knelt, before her as she sat upon her obscene throne. It was the custom in the South. There was nothing humble about the Queer Queen’s palace. It was an edifice to the obscene, every surface decorated pornographically, dedicated to phallic worship, and to acts of extreme sexual perversity.
Her bodyguards were all black niggers and well-hung. Their nakedness reflected her constant need for sexual arousal. Young naked slave boys, dressed as girls stood by, awaiting her every need.
“To what occasion do we owe this special visit?” asked the inquisitive, Queer Queen.
xxxxx
THE EMPEROR 2 — CHAPTER SIX — THE WAY OF LVST (2,118 WORDS)
“O Gaius, O Gaius, what fate does thee drive us to? O Gaius, O Gaius, what darkened world do you create for us? O Gaius, O Gaius, what siren song sends your followers to the rocks? O Gaius, O Gaius, your hellish horns, forked tongue, and erect phallus, we should worship?” — Extract from the secret journal of Marcus, Aid, and Consul, to Emperor Brutus, now deceased.
xxxxx
Aelis had taken it upon herself to use her position as Gaius’ Consul to open some new and unexpected doors. She’d planned a simple visitation to the South. It was, of course, unsanctioned and unknown by either Gaius or Pricilla. But that was the point. She planned to discretely meet with the Queer Queen, to secure another option for herself.
She was fully aware of how the Queer Queen had tried to influence the Boy Emperor. She’d positioned herself as highly favorable to his succession. There had been gestures of gifts, and offers of future trade in the flesh market — something the old emperor had been ardently against — but Gaius would be keen to re-establish. Sexual slavery was something that both the new order would embrace.
Now, in front of the Queer Queen, Aelis sought her sexual mischief, as she silently watched the Queer Queen rock back and forth against her phallic throne.
“To what occasion do we owe this special visit?” asked the Queer Queen.
“Your Highness, much has happened since your visit. And I seek a discrete discussion about the implications.”
“Discrete?” repeated the Queer Queen, “Of course, if that is what your Excellency would prefer. It shall be so.”
The Queer Queen licked her painted lips and slowly rose from her phallic throne. Her penis was visible beneath her rainbow-colored gown — erect and potent. As she stood up, cock-shaped protrusion slid from her anus glistening with her anal slime. With an effeminate gesture and a clap of her hands, the Queer Queen dismissed all her slaves and guards, leaving the two of them alone in the throne room.
“Please, call me Aelis, my Queen,” she answered.
”Aelis. Yes. Aelis, it is. And you may call me, Helios. We may be familiar, now alone. I have heard stories about your sexual prowess, Aelis. I am more than eager to experience them. They say that Satan has blessed you with both an impressive cock and a cunt, is that true?”
Alone, Helios stood immediately before Aelis as she knelt. Helios opened the front of her translucent gown, her arms aloft, like a crazy insect about to take flight. Her erect cock presented Helios’ desire for the two of them to copulate.
”It is true, Helios. And likewise, I desire to share the gifts of Satan with one who would appreciate what lies between my legs. Your legendary sexual perversity precedes you. My cock is eager to fill your anus. My cunt is wet for your cock to fill me too.”
Aelis wasted no further breath on talk and wrapped her lips around Helios’ throbbing cock. She began sucking and licking with a fervor, that showed her sexual arousal and intent to pleasure the Queer Queen.
“Aarghhh,” moaned Helios, as she shuddered under the sexual spell of Aelis’ expert mouth.
“Come. Let’s get more comfortable. Satan be praised. Join me on my altar bed,” suggested Helios.
xxxxx
Dresus had not been the same ever since his younger sister, Lovita, had humiliated him.
He’d thought that they were looking out for each other. He thought she loved him as much as he loved her. But, alas, it had been a lie. She was as fickle and devious as his brother, Gaius. It made him feel physically sick thinking about the two of them together, fucking. He felt jilted, tricked, and very bitter.
When around him, Lovita, now smirked at Dresus — like he was a big joke or something — now that she was with Gaius. He thought of exposing them, but that would only reflect poorly on him too. He was as incestuous as the both of them were. But his love for her was not just about sexual lust — he’d thought that they made something special together — he’d been mistaken. Her jokes about how small his cock was hurt him deeper than he realized. It affected his self-esteem in a negative way. It negatively affected his self-esteem.
But every way he looked at the situation — he came out as the loser. Fucking Gauis, he thought, he doesn’t deserve to be Emperor. He doesn’t deserve the love of his sister. In the whole episode of him pretending to catch Lovita and him in the act of sex, calling him an “evil pervert” … threatening to castrate him … Gauis was the evil pervert. Not him.
Dresus knew instinctively that he would have to bite his tongue and wait for an opportunity for his revenge. His naivety seemed to be his downfall — he hated them. He hated them all. What would revenge look like? He thought about it. It warmed his groin. His small boy penis suddenly became erect. He rubbed his tight foreskin back and forth and tasted his precum as it flowed across his fingers. Up until he’d discovered the joys of sex with his younger sister, he’d been a reluctant masturbator. Something about his father’s Abrahamic faith and their insistence on abstinence and avoidance of sexual sin. Masturbation was sin.
But his father was gone. Nobody in their court seemed concerned with the punishment or the prevention of sexual sin … quite the opposite … it seemed sin was everywhere. He rubbed himself faster. Incest, he instinctively knew, was not something to be open about. He’d remembered stories of older emperors that had even married their sisters but that had been something to do with the consolidation of their power base. It wasn’t necessarily sexual. But his was. Lovita had welcomed him between her legs. The sweetness of her lips. The taste of her cunt. They’d been nervous, scared, and apprehensive about it. It had opened a whole new world of lust.
His small cock itched for more attention. He stroked faster. He once imagined them, as a powerful couple. Secretive in their love. But that thought had been spoilt. His brother had falsely accused him.
Revenge would involve the castration of his brother. Yes, the table could be turned. He would do it himself. As he masturbated, he imagined holding the sharp gilding knife. His older brother would be naked and erect as if he were about to initiate sex with Lovita. Yes, she was naked too. Gauis wouldn’t see it coming.
He would force her to watch, as he sliced his brother’s erect cock right off, at the root. Blood would spurt everywhere. Gaius would crumble in the bloody shock. Dresus would be holding his brother’s severed cock in his hand triumphantly. He would stand there, over his brother’s dying body, watching him bleed out.
Lovita would see his strength. Her love for him would be absolute. She wouldn’t care about Gaius. He was the past — Dresus was the future — she would open her legs to him and beg him to fuck her — while he stuffed Gaius’ limp and bloody cock in her mouth as a reminder to never double-cross him again.
xxxxx
Gauis tossed and turned.
His mind seemed to race ahead of himself. His rise to be the most powerful man in the empire was so strong, he could taste it. It consumed him in a way that made him vulnerable to treachery. Though treachery was his way, there seemed to be so many crosses and double-crosses.
Why wasn’t his brother dead? It was obvious that whatever the witch, Aelia, had done was ineffectual. She had been his hermaphroditic lover. Her cock and cunt had been an absolute delight. She’d been his co-conspirator from the beginning. He’d made it known that she’d be more than “well rewarded” for her part in his rise to glory. Felix should be dead by now. Purposeful or not, he wasn’t sure. She either underestimated his brother’s constitution or she was up to something that he was not privileged to.
Marcus, his dead father’s aid, was usually the key to many of the clandestine happenings in and around the court. If anything was going on, he would be party to it. A master spy, but with a weakness for the Bucha Bazi (boy play), he thought he’d put that clown in his pocket. But the pieces on the chessboard just kept moving around. It made him frustrated. He should have killed him when he had the chance.
Maybe his meddling mother had intervened somehow. Her mellow dramatics were a smokescreen for her agenda. He knew all about her weakness for sweat, and young things and how she loved to fuck them, torture them, and kill them. The latest of her misadventures, the murder of another eleven-year-old sex slave had not gone unnoticed. Her secrets could be leveraged. But her love of Felix, his older brother, was not a “tender love”. It was all about manipulation.
“You’re so restless, my love,” said Lovita, his twelve-year-old sister and incestuous lover.
He didn’t bother to answer her.
Her small fingers curled around his flaccid cock and tight ballsacks, as she began to masturbate him. He wasn’t flaccid for long. She kissed his lips and pressed the tiny point of her tongue to his mouth seductively. His hand gripped the back of her head and pushed her downwards towards his swelling cock-meat.
He’d been fucking his baby sister for only a short while. Incest was such a delicious sin. Though she’d lost her virginity to his younger sibling, he’d been the first to fuck her anal cherry — making her lick clean his dirty shit-stained cock, after he’d cum inside her filthy little bowels.
Ass-to-mouth was one of his many fetishes. Shit play had its own vulgar pleasure. He loved to do dirty things to weak people. Her small little mouth had been stuffed with his stinking shit. Fecal matter was smeared across her pretty little face. She was crying. She’d gagged and almost vomited from its foulness, as he forced her to eat it. Yes, Satan be praised for such delicious delights. Her suffering had made him cum so hard.
He’d thought about fucking a baby into her — incestuous babies made the best offerings to Satan, according to his co-conspirator, Aelia, the hermaphroditic witch. She’d suggested killing both mother and child whilst she was still pregnant, but Gaius said no … well, not yet.
Anyway, he was preoccupied with the thoughts of his younger brother. How he’d loved humiliating him. His fear of the future emperor had been palpable. It would be only a matter of time before he used him too. Incest was the Devil’s delight. Homosexual incest had always been Gauis’ preference. Cunts were boring, after a while. But the thought of his brother’s young incestuous cock, that was a thrill.
“Suck me, you fucking slut,” he moaned uncaringly, “Make me cum! Now!”
He imagined her warm little mouth to be that of his younger brother’s. Yes, he’d fuck him very soon. Anilingus somehow felt better from a male tongue. Dresus would become his personal toilet slut too — how humiliating that would be to force his younger brother to drink his imperial piss and eat his royal shit? Fuck yes! Filth and depravity. He’d force him to eat it, just like his baby sister. The new and all-powerful emperor would be denied nothing.
Nothing!
He’d threaten his brother with castration if he didn’t do all the degrading and repulsive things that turned him on. He’d make his mother watch. Stupid fucking bitch, he thought. He’d kill Felix himself. Fuck them all. He’d have his dead brother’s thigh bones carved into bone dildos for his family to fuck and suck — He would be known as Emperor Satan.
“Fucking slut! Fucking incestuous slut! Make me cum! Make me cum!”
He violently grabbed Lovita’s ponytails as he began to buck roughly against his sister’s pretty face, grinding harder and harder in his selfish, solo pleasure.
“You’re hurting me,” she cried.
”Shut the fuck up!” replied her uncaring brother, “Make me cum!”
It was his young brother’s mouth he was fucking, not the boring little slut, Lovita. Yes, suck me, brother, he thought, suck the cock of a god! Gaius was close to cumming. He bucked hard against her pathetic crying face. Her brother’s mouth would be his next conquest. His anus. Oh, his anus. Incest. Sodomy. Satan sex …
“Fuck! Bitch! Make me cum!” he screamed.
Orgasm … it was all he cared about.
xxxxx
THE EMPEROR 2 — CHAPTER SEVEN — DEPRAVED TO THE CORE (2,109 WORDS)
“Should I cry for those innocent lives that have been swallowed by our depravity? Shall I shed a tear when all their hope is lost in the maelstrom of vileness? What say of the fate of those victim to our vanquishing debasement? I say nothing. For I am the darkness. I am the immoral. I am the nefarious one … ” — Extract from the secret journal of Marcus, Aid, and Consul, to Emperor Brutus, now deceased.
xxxxx
It wasn’t long after their accord that Felix began to make a miraculous recovery — be it a slow one. Pricilla and Aelia had become fast friends and secret lovers. Felix was still very weak and vulnerable — an easy target for the assassin. But Pricilla watched over him, day and night.
“Remember your promise,” said Aelia.
“If he survives, you will be rewarded with his hand in marriage, my love.”
Aelia had not realized the depravity of this much older woman. She’d wrongly believed that she followed her dead husband’s beliefs. Beliefs that had her kind disowned, shunned, and even persecuted.
She had been more than pleasantly surprised, that their love play involved the abuse, torture, and murder of several young sex slaves. She was a truly wicked and cruel woman who seemed to be limitless in her perverted sexual desires. She was worthy of her admiration. Maybe that’s where Gaius got his motivations from. But he paled in comparison to his evil mother. This new alliance was far more interesting than Gaius’ boring little cock.
Pricilla had assured her that together they would do many evil things. How loyalties quickly changed.
It had been their first intimate encounter (after Aelia had administered the first dose of the antidote — it would not fix everything right away — it would be a slow and painful process of reversal). She’d taken Aelia to her private bathhouse. Aelia had imagined that the two of them would spend the night fucking after they had been both bathed and pampered by her bath slaves. But to Aelia’s surprise, Pricilla’s private bathhouse resembled something more like a slaughterhouse. The tiled walls were still bloodstained and stank of urine. Upon the walls hung giant grotesque murals that depicted children being sexually abused and even offered as human sacrifices to Pricilla’s dark-skinned hermaphroditic demons.
“You don’t know me yet,” she said, “But you will. As our empress, you will have everything your wicked heart desires. You will no longer be seen as a sexual freak … but revered as our witch goddess … all will fear you and you will give them reason to be fearful … yes, Aelia, I have great plans for us!”
Marcus had acquired some new sex slaves for his Mistress. One was a young girl that appeared to be only six years old. She was a sweet young thing. The other was a boy called Bacchus (not his real name, but a name assigned by Pricilla), who was about the same age as her son. Bacchus even looked like Gaius in his height, body shape, and handsome features. Both had been treated well, dressed in fine silk tunics, and hadn’t had their heads shaved as common slaves — they’d even been a little spoilt by Pricilla, prior to being brought to her secret bathhouse.
Aelia licked her lips looking at the little one that Pricilla called “Little Eros”. She wasn’t sure about Pricilla’s plan but she could imagine kissing the little darling. Of course, Bacchus’ appearance appealed to her too, as she could see the deliberate likeness to Pricilla’s troublesome son, Gaius. Maybe the whole gory bathroom thing was just for show? She’d always imagined Pricilla to be prim and proper. Her sexual advances and offers of kinky sexual favors had been taken with some trepidation, in terms of their veracity.
“Let’s pretend tonight, that I am not your future mother-in-law. That we are both witches, evil witches — that both use sex magick to satisfy our twisted and taboo tastes.”
“Sounds like it could be an interesting game.”
“Some games can be a little hazardous, don’t you think?”
Without a further word, Pricilla allowed her loose gown to fall from her shoulders. Aelia could see her stunning body. She was beautiful. Her physique appeared as youthful as her own. No way could she be forty years of age and the mother of three children. She appeared almost teenaged — pure and untouched by the ravages of age — maybe, there was dark magick involved.
”You like what you see?” asked Pricilla, her clitoris stood upright like a tiny erect penis.
“Where shall we begin? Little Eros, looks so delicious, doesn’t she?” Asked Pricilla, “Maybe, we could encourage young Bacchus to rape her violently … sodomy is such a divine act, don’t you think? Let do it in front of us … then, we would need to punish him for his barbaric act?”
“What kind of punishment, did you have in mind?”
“Castration, of course!”
xxxxx
Gaius and Lovita had invited Dresus to join them for a private dinner.
Gaius had intimated it to be something of a “peace offering”, as Dresus had been mortally fearful of his older brother … and heartbroken by his younger sister. He’d been in two minds about it. Was this just another one of his brother’s ploys? What possible games did his siblings intend to play now?
He’d heard that his oldest brother, Felix, had shown signs of recovery. Though Felix was not yet conscious, the physicians had been elated at, what seemed to be, the ending of his decline — he was stable but still very weak and vulnerable.
It was no secret that Dresus feared his other brother. Gaius had threatened him with castration, saying that he’d abused his younger sister and had raped her — his saving grace had been that she’d been sexual with both brothers, so as it turned out, he’d been spared this awful fate. She was just a filthy, little twelve-year-old slut. She’d used him. She’d professed her love of Gaius and had humiliated Dresus.
He’d hid in shame since.
So, why bother accepting Gaius’ invitation? Morbid fascination, maybe? He felt that things couldn’t get worse and maybe there was some strange advantage to this. He could be wrong. But he had a feeling that things between his siblings weren’t exactly, so “lovey-dovey” after all.
Gaius had arranged for them to dine together on the private barge. It was very private. Nobody could get on or off without being noticed. He’d considered talking to Marcus. But he didn’t trust him anymore. Marcus was too shady, since the death of his father. It seemed that Marcus had an agenda, that wasn’t necessarily in alignment with Dresus’ family’s interests.
The barge had been partly decorated. He heard something about a gift from one of their neighboring nations. Most of the reconstruction was still covered in blankets and scaffolds, and the work wasn’t anywhere near completion — except for the small private dining space that Gaius had organized for the three siblings.
Dresus had dressed less formally. It had been very warm during the day, so the cool breeze across the lake had felt rather refreshing. Now in the bowels of the barge, it felt hot and humid again. He was the first to arrive. A banquet had been laid out, but there were no slaves around to serve. It would be a self-service kind of thing. The aroma of rich wine and roasted food made him feel immediately hungry.
“Dresus,” said his older brother, “I’m glad that you accepted our invitation.”
They hugged awkwardly and then he faced his sister.
“Dresus,” said his younger sister, “I’ve missed you.”
Her hug felt genuine, but Dresus couldn’t help but remember his humiliation. They all sat down at the banquet table and he began to eat and drank wine. He felt more and more relaxed. Dresus sat next to his younger sister, keeping some distance between himself and Gaius. His sister seemed warmer, friendlier … it felt like it did, before … maybe she regretted her behavior towards him. But somehow, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t trust her, as he did before.
Soft rhythmic music filled the air. Lovita moved closer to her brother. Her hand rested genially on his bare leg. She smiled sweetly at him and fed him some grapes. It was the smile of a lover. Maybe he’d drunk a little too much wine, but he felt his guard beginning to drop.
“It’s lovely being together, again,” she whispered.
She kissed him on the cheek. Dresus looked over at his elder brother, who seemed unphased by Lovita’s secret seduction. Maybe Gaius had grown bored of her? His attention span was notoriously short. Lovita’s small hand slipped further up her brother’s thigh, caressing him gently. Her slender fingertips brushed deliciously against the skin of his upper thighs and testicles. Tiny electric shocks of pleasure hinted at more to come. He felt almost dreamlike. Maybe that was what it was? A dream, just a dream, or was it the wine?
“Dance for us! Dance for Satan …” he heard his older brother say, “Dance, dear sister, do your little piss dance.”
And then she was there, gyrating in front of him, completely naked. Her flat, bony chest was crowned with dark pierced nipples. She was clearly masturbating herself as she danced to the eerie Satanic music. The food and drink scattered as she thrust back and forth, standing immediately in front of him over the low banquet table.
He was naked too. Gaius was naked. He could see his brother masturbating to the rhythm of the music. His own cock felt so hard and throbbed. Her tiny cunt-hole looked red-raw and stretched. He watched voyeuristically as her delicate fingers worked their way in and out. In and out. Wantonly, penetrating herself. In and out. Finger-fucking her reddish cunt-hole to the sound of the Devil’s beat. In and out. Faster and faster. Her juices dripped and lubricated her carnal movements. In and out. Faster and faster. She grinned evilly. Wickedness filled her eyes.
He desperately wanted to fuck his sister again. It was all he could think of. Sex with Lovita. Incest with his baby sister. Like they did the first time, losing their collective virginities. Could it all be a dream? It just felt so surreal. Much more than just a dream. He felt so incredibly horny. Sexual insanity. His head was spinning. Precum dripped from his twitching cock-head.
Dresus felt a hand, wrap tightly and purposefully, around his urgent cock, stroking him while he watched, hypnotized by his own sister’s open cunt. In and out. Faster and faster. She jerked her hips with her knees slightly bent. In and out. Her movements were not graceful, but completely vulgar and profane … worthy of devil worship.
He heard her laugh, as she began to pee over him. Her hot, salty piss sprayed over his face. Her acrid urine soaked his hair, and face, and squirted into his mouth. He didn’t care that it tasted so foul. He just wanted her even more. That’s when he felt something hard pressing against the opening of his anus. The blunt thing pressed harder until it began to enter and stretch his inner sphincter.
“Suck him, you fucking piss whore!” ordered a distant voice.
The smell of her urine still stung his nostrils, and the taste of it filled his mouth. Somehow, it seemed, he’d been baptized by it. Drawn deeper into their web of sin and corruption. The hand that had been stroking him furiously, was now replaced by his sister’s eager lips, as she knelt before him, sucking his throbbing cock into her warm mouth — squeezing his balls between her small fingers — as he couldn’t resist fucking her face.
“Satan be praised! Satan be praised!” he heard his sister chant.
Standing now, in front of him, her nubile young body, grinding again his rampant shaft. She kissed his urine-flavoured lips. Sucking his tongue as she did his cock. He felt his sister’s fingers guided his cock into her piss-wet cunt as she began to fuck him. Yes! Yes! Finally … He felt the pleasures of heaven. Then, there was a dull pain, as his older brother began to penetrate him, further and deeper into his virgin bowels … No! No! … He felt the pleasures of hell … He wanted it to stop. He didn’t want this. It was wrong and twisted. Yet his cock throbbed even harder inside his sister’s tight cunt-hole. Their bodies moved together. Back and forth. Back and forth. Incestuous. His body, mind, and very soul seemed detached as Gaius continued to sodomize him.
xxxxx
THE EMPEROR 2 — CHAPTER EIGHT — THE END IS NIGH (2,007 WORDS)
“For everything that begins, there is an ending. For every new day, there is a night. For every tyrant, there is vindication. For every great empire, there is a grand finale. What fate unhinges us as we gloat upon our own plenitude?” — Extract from the secret journal of Marcus, Aid, and Consul, to Emperor Brutus, now deceased.
xxxxx
Marcus arrived with his small entourage at the Temple Of Iblis (The Enemy Of God). It had been a rather exhausting journey and now Marcus and his delegates enjoyed some refreshments as guests of Abdul Bin Marid. The mud-walled structure with no outward facing features had appeared primitive compared to the palaces of the Emperor — but within the walls, it was private, luxurious, and an exotic experience.
It had been arranged that he was to meet up with Abdul Bin Marid, the Son of Marid, Shaitan Warlord of the East. After a successful meeting with Gauis, the second eldest son of the Emperor (now deceased), there were some delicate matters, regarding their trade agreements that had previously been forbidden by the dead emperor. With him gone, Marcus was keen to restart their trade negotiations.
Marcus had carefully selected these three, effeminate, young males — all specially trained in the art of pleasure. He didn’t need their negotiating skills. He just needed them to perform for the perverted Warlord’s son.
Abdul had scheduled a small reception for Marcus and his delegates for the next evening — so Marcis, for now, could relax somewhat. The Temple Of Iblis offered many delights of its own. This male-only world had never lost its tradition of “Bucha Bazi” (boy play) and was a pedophilic paradise for perverts, like him. Its evil priests still practiced many dark and bizarre occult rituals and perverted offerings, that, all centered around the abuse of young boys for the pleasure of their great god, Shaitan (the Devil).
Marcus sat with his eyes closed enjoying the simple pleasure of sipping his spice tea. Baskets of dates and other rare fruits had been laid out in glistening silver trays. Only the sound was that of the water fountain that filled his ears. He’d send his delegates to their chambers to prepare themselves for the next day’s events. As he relaxed in this internal garden, a plainly dressed qess (priest) stood before him. Marcus opened his eyes. The qess looked to be in his thirties. He wore only a sleeveless black tunic and sandals.
The qess bowed his head and knelt before Marcus.
“Jalil (great) Marcus,” said the qess with reverence, “We hope that you feel refreshed after your journey. We are greatly honored by your presence. As a special guest of Lord Marid, we afford you all that The Temple Of Iblis has to offer. Your associates … will they be joining you?”
“No. They’re otherwise occupied,” replied Marcus, “But, I am keen to learn more about your culture, traditions, and the worship of the Iblis — doesn’t it mean the corruptor of souls — the sinful one?”
The qess knelt but looked up as if trying to weigh Marcus’ words.
“An approximation,” he began, “Iblis is our spiritual god, whereas, the Marid is worshiped as our living god. But, you are right — we say Iblis is the King of the Jinn — it’s difficult to explain, but the Jinn is among us. They do the bidding of the Iblis — they bring darkness, depravity, and wickedness to the world. They’re malicious and even whisper evil thoughts into the ears of the innocent. They have existed before mankind and most of our qess are their offspring.”
“The boy emperor will be only too pleased to hear these words!”
The qess smiled at his words.
“May I speak plainly?” asked the qess.
“Of course,” encouraged Marcus.
”Many think our worship of Iblis to be … distasteful at best … and barbaric at worst,” the qess looked cautious about his choice of words, “As an honored guest, we do not want to offend you, in any manner.”
“If you’re referring to your ritual sacrifices and orgies with young boys dressed as girls … I see nothing offensive about it at all … in fact, sodomy is my preference … and the younger the better.”
The qess grinned broadly at Marcus’ response.
“Then maybe, like me, you too, are an offspring of the Jinn?” the qess asked.
”That would be an honor.”
“Then I see no need to be coy about it. You must join us. Tonight’s Bucha Bazi is about to begin.”
xxxxx
Felix tried to open his eyes.
He’d dreamt so many strange dreams. Dreams or nightmares? His mind still swam in their poisonous grip. There had been a dream of his father’s passing and that he was now the next in line to serve the empire. But the empire was no longer of his father’s design. It seemed tainted by dark forces beyond his control. All that had been so orderly, was now complete chaos. All that had been innocent was now twisted and corrupt.
They were evil nightmares. Wicked nightmares. Depraved nightmares.
He felt a strange tingling in his groin. He felt his cock stiffen from unknown stimulation. Whatever was happening to him — it was making him feel incredibly horny. Blurry figures were moving around him in the darkness. They seemed to emerge and disappear again in the black fog that clouded his perception. There was a female face that looked familiar. Was it his mother? Was it his sister? Was it someone else?
“Mother, are you there? Lovita, is that you?”
The female didn’t answer. He felt a firm hand touch him beneath his bedsheets, followed by the sensation of strong fingers wrapping around his erect penis. The fingers were stroking him. It felt so pleasurable. He didn’t want it to stop.
“Who’s there? Where am I?” he asked.
“Relax, my brother. It’s Gaius, the true heir to the throne. The real boy emperor.”
Felix felt his brother’s mouth around his cock, sucking his cock-head as he masturbated him and fingered his anus. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it should be. Incest. Homosexuality. This was completely wrong. It went against God’s law … “You shall not lie with a man as you do with a woman …”
Felix tried to move. How to prevent this sinful and disgusting act? He tried to stop his brother from performing oral sex on him but simply couldn’t move.
“I’m going to fuck you. You think you’re so righteous. Fuck your Christian ideals. Fuck your morals. Our mother is watching us, right now. See, she loathes you. She hates you as she hated our father. She wants me to be the next emperor — as she knows that I will be the one to bring the wickedness back — the wickedness she embraces, as she worships and adores the god of perversity, Satan.”
Felix was now, bent over, on his knees. Darkness surrounded him. A ritual was in progress. His brother, sister, and mother … Devil worship. Before him was the obscene idol of the naked black Baphomet. The dark breasts of a woman. The erect penis of the beast. The personification of evil. The twin-sex demon. It was everything his father had fought so hard to overthrow.
“Breath in, brother,” said Gaius as he covered his mouth, with a soft cloth, tainted with alkyl nitrate.
The efforts were immediate. Felix felt an incredible rush. He gripped onto his sister’s petite shoulders. His body jerked and twitched uncontrollably, as his mind raced forward. His anal muscles began to relax in the euphoria of the moment. He felt the blunt tip of his brother’s penis pressing hard against the brown flower of his rectum. His anus seemed primed for ritual sodomy. He looked down. His cock was so hard and throbbing. His precum dripped from its tip and flowed into the open mouth of his underaged sister. He felt Lovita’s tiny fingers stroking his cock-shaft and stimulating his sensitive testicles and perineum.
Gaius began to thrust forward and slowly penetrate his virgin bowels.
“Aaargghhhh …” he gasped in both pain and pleasure.
He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t move. His paralysis didn’t seem to prevent the drug’s efforts or sensations of pleasure filling his senses — even though his thoughts screamed with every moral thought to stop this perversion — his body seemed to participate in his rape.
“That’s it. You fucking sodomite!” screamed his mother, “You’re no better than the rest of us. Fuck morality. Fuck God. Fuck Christ. You’re just like us.”
Twisted. Tormented. Felix had felt lost in the land of nightmares. Horrible thoughts. Taboo desires. All intermingled in a parody of the Christian mass — the Black Mass — the Missa Niger. He wanted to scream — but no sound would leave his lungs. The darkness began to clear — as if the morning sun was pushing back the night demons to begin afresh. The evil vignettes of his brother, sister, and mother began to recede. He felt consciousness begin to push through … it was time to wake up …
xxxxx
The Bucha Bazi, as Marcus saw it, was their version of the Missa Niger (The Black Mass). The qess had provided Marcus with a sleeveless black tunic, the same as his own. They’d both donned dark-horned masks that covered their upper face and made them look like the children of demons. A steep spiral staircase had led downwards into a subterranean world of interconnecting chambers that were purposed for the Bucha Bazi.
”The ritual is about to begin,” said the qess as he led Marcus towards the central chamber.
The central chamber was lit with burning torches. The sound echoed with the low hum of strange prayers and shamanic drumming. Marcus and the qess now joined another dozen men dressed in sleeveless black tunics and demon masks as they sat in a semi-circle. The others bowed their heads in acknowledgment of their special guest.
There was an ugly idol that appeared to be a red-skinned, horned demon with a massive erect penis that Marcus could only imagine represented Iblis (The Devil). The walls were covered with perverted murals that showed depraved sex between the jinn and young effeminate boys — some looked consensual — others looked like rape and sexual torture.
One of the group stood up and spoke in a language unfamiliar to Marcus.
“He said, welcome, fellow sons of demons, and let the rites of Iblis, begin,” translated the qess.
At that moment the shamanic drumming intensified as a dozen or more, long-haired, young boys, all dressed in diaphanous white camisoles and high-heeled shoes. Upon their backs, they wore white angel wings. The flat-chested boys all looked so feminine. Marcus licked his lips and his cock stiffened beneath his tunic.
As they pranced around to the sound of the beat, all the boys were fully erect, and their naked bodies were tantalizingly visible beneath their transparent coverings. They all began to dance slowly and teasingly at first. As the tempo of the shamanic beat increased they became more vigorous in their provocative movements.
They eagerly touched themselves, and each other, thrusting their narrow hips back and forth (as if fucking imaginary lovers). They blew kisses at the sons of demons. They tossed their long black hair, rubbed their small hands over their flat chests (as if they had breasts), and fondled their budging, little-boy-cocks, that stood upright against their flat stomachs.
The sons of demons looked on, like a pack of hungry wolves. Yes, Marcus, thought to himself — the Bucha Bazi — was certainly a tradition that he was keen to bring back alive in the new Empire. Marcus’ cock began to drip with precum beneath his tunic at the sight of their provocative sex dance.
“They aren’t angels — they’re nymphs — sent here to tease us,” explained the qess.
Marcus observed that he wasn’t the only one tormented by these perverted nymph boys, who looked no older than twelve or thirteen. The sons of demons had begun to undress. They made it no secret that they found the nymphs sexually exciting. Some had already begun to masturbate as they watched the little harlots cavorting around and teasing them.
“Iblis flows strongly in their sexual organs,” groaned the excited qess, “Iblis feasts on our dark desires!”
Both Marcus and the qess removed their gowns. The qess began stroking his dark-skinned cock to the beat of the Shamanic drums. Marcus joined him, gripping his precum-coated cock, rolling his foreskin back and forth as his eyes were glued to the provocative dance of the young boys.
One of the smaller boys danced immediately in front of Marcus. He had long dark hair, a very pretty face with make-up, coal-black eyeliner and even black lipstick. His vulgar movements brought his nakedness within inches of Marcus’ face. Marcus noticed the bejeweled butt plug, that promised sodomitic delights.
The nymph opened his delicate camisole to display his erect cock and flat chest to Marcus. The boy moved forward, almost straddling Marcus’ bare legs. Electricity flowed as their skin touched. It was as if Marcus were the only son of a demon in the chamber.
“The Iblis has chosen him … for you,” urged the qess, “If you accept this gift, you must suck his cock and drink his urine. It is the sign of your desire to fill his bowels with your sacred semen.”
Young effeminate boys. Ritual cock sucking. Urine drinking. Sodomy. The Bucha Bazi was everything that Marcus hoped it would be.
xxxxx
THE END?
xxxxx
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