Crispus : by (c) Hamilton Joyce Mm The bad thing about being Emperor is that nearly every one of your predecessors has died poisoned or knifed.... The good thing is that while it lasts you can have anything you want, and that includes your pick of the Empire's Women, Men, Girls and Boys. Helena, the blonde girl, had been packed off back to her British Chieftain father. Pregnant. She had lasted about two months, rather more than par for the course. I was looking around.... I had in my early years seen enough of battle not to get so excited by the sight of gladiators in the arena. But the crowd was certainly involved. You could almost smell the sexual excitement in the air as blood flowed and huge men died. The crowd roared its approval of each blow. I studied the screaming mass from my viewpoint. That boy over there... I turned to Galba, the bodyguard who always stood behind me in public. He had been a non- commissioned officer in the legion I commanded before I took the imperial throne. My insurance policy. 'Crispus, he's called. His father is Dorus Flavens, the Senator. Never seen him here before, so I guess he's just fourteen.' Boys under fourteen, and unmarried women were barred from the amphitheatre. There was a question in Galba's voice. 'Yes. Send for him.' One of Galba's companions, a guardsman in the red and steel uniform of the Imperial Guard, mad his way over to the boy and his father. The boy stood, and I could see he wore a white cotton tunic, Greek style. Too young for the toga. He had blonde hair, cropped at the front, but over his ears and over his neck in curls. Some time soon those girl-ish locks would be cropped back into a Roman manly style. For the moment, they set the heart racing. The face of a young god, heart-stoppingly beautiful. And you could see he was slim, but well-built by the look of his bare legs and arms. If he was only fourteen he was tall for his age. The simple braided gold belt, tight around his waist, half revealed the shape of a young arse. I found I was licking my lips. The attention of the crowd gradually shifted, in ripples round the stadium, from the bloody spectacle on the sandy floor, over to my box, where the boy was taking the seat that used to be Helena's, and before her so many other lovers, male and female. I could hear the intake of breath as jealous men looked at him in the realisation their Emperor would have that young body for his amusement. The women too would be feeling heat in their loins as they watched him enter his Emperor's favour. Many of our respectable Roman matrons have a yen for young meat! The boy showed no emotion, neither embarrassment at the public parade of his beauty, nor fear at the attention of his Emperor. The Senator's friends and colleagues were clearly congratulating him, slapping him on his back. I am always generous to the families who lend me their boys or girls, husbands or wives. Promotions and gold beckoned in return for his son's virginity. ................................................. The Stadium had been hot and I always walked, though heavily guarded, when in my own city. The streets were dusty and crowded, though the masses always parted for the Emperor and his escort. It was good to enter the cool of The Palace. 'Young Crispus, we shall bath, massage, and eat.' 'Thank you, sir.' He must have known what would follow the food, but he showed no fear, only a quiet respect, as was proper. Inwardly he must have felt that secret excitement, tightness in the chest, beating heart, that precedes sexual adventure. His eyes shone, and his full, red lips were pursed, almost sulky. He brushed the floppy blonde curls from his brow. Then he smiled and his face lit up. Paphos, my personal servant, removed my toga, and then took the boy's white tunic as Crispus undid the shoulder straps and let it fall to the floor. He stood naked except for the cotton cloth he used, like most Romans, to gird his loins. (I go naked under the toga, as I always had under my military skirts all my life. It made for a bigger prick, hanging like that! And military action had often presented sudden opportunities to have a pretty girl or boy as the defeated enemy ran for it. Time was of the essence then! Lift the leather skirt and shove it in!) Paphos unclasped the cloth, revealed him naked, and stood back in open admiration. Slim, with just the beginnings of future manly muscles, hairless except for the lightest of fuzz at the base of his shaft, which hung, white and graceful, in a gentle arc from that firm, flat belly. Paphos turned him round, so I could see his tight little arse. His hips seemed narrow, as did his waist, a milk-triangle with his wide, bronzed shoulders. The white of Paphos' hand contrasted with the bronzed bicep, and my servant's scarlet nail varnish looked like little gems in an armlet. The boy was deep tanned on his arms and legs, lighter on his body, and white as driven snow on his arse and lower belly. 'Have that tunic copied in silk.' 'May I suggest scarlet, sir?' Paphos loved his men in gaudy clothes, and his women too. 'White, immediately. Other colours later. Now come with me, boy.' I held Crispus' hand, the first time I'd touched him, and we walked to the hot room. In the gloom we sat side by side. I had my thigh touching his. As I placed my arm round his shoulder the sweat started to run down the two of us. I pulled him to me, and was speaking some nonsense or other. I rather forget, but I was probably telling him how beautiful he was. Anyway, my cock was hard, and I kissed him on the mouth, feeling for his cock as I did. It was half-hard, but as I stroked it, it stood properly for me. I took his hand and placed it on my cock, and we sat in the dark heat caressing each others' slick bodies, and wanking each other. I could close my fist easily round his weapon, and it slid easily up and down the shaft, lubricated by the sweat of our bodies. His thumb and fingers would not meet around my weapon, and he was treating it too gently. I guessed he had not done much of this. He would learn! I licked a nipple, and felt it harden under my tongue. I tweaked it, rolling it between finger and thumb, and he reciprocated, twisting mine. His mouth was on my neck kissing me. I licked the sweat from his chest, and then down over his hairless belly. The light, golden-blonde fuzz at the base of his shaft was wet, and I nuzzled through it to his cock. I licked the erect shaft, and then his knob was in my mouth. I tongued it, slipping my tongue between foreskin and knob. Then I pulled the foreskin down and slipped his cock deeper into my mouth, in and in, till my nose and lips touched his fleece. He groaned. He was still grasping and rubbing my cock. 'May I, sir, please?' 'May I what, boy?' 'May I suck you too, please, sir?' We lay on the wooden slats, me on my back, the boy laying over me, his cock in my mouth, mine in his. I caressed his buttocks as he sucked me. He was stroking my legs (I keep my legs and arms hairy, though Paphos removes all my other body hair. Some lovers find that peculiar in me, but I always point out that my predecessor the great Julius Caesar was always completely depilated... though unlike his successor-Emperor he preferred to be fucked in the arse above all other sexual pleasures! I'm mainly what the barbarians call 'Top'.) I noticed he took his lead from me. When I swallowed his cock deep, he swallowed mine, though he gagged a bit at its size. When I sucked on his knob, handling and rubbing his shaft with my fist, so he did mine. And when I cradled and stroked his nearly hairless balls, I felt his fingers on mine, completely shiny and hairless. It could not last. At his age, boys are their most virile. I felt him coming in my mouth. Not much, but good to feel and to swallow. And then I came. Helena had gone four days before, and I do not masturbate alone. So there was lots! He swallowed it like a good one! 'Have you done that before, Crispus?' 'No, sir. Never. It's better than...' He broke off, embarrassed. 'Better than wanking alone? It certainly is. Promise me you'll never wank alone, but save it for a lover.' 'I promise, sir.' 'And I'll show you even better things, my lovely boy.' I kissed him on the lips. I could taste my cum in his mouth. The ice broken, as it were, I rang the handbell, and my Nubians entered. I expect they had been watching. The Emperor has no secrets in his own palace. I had inherited them from my predecessor (who, unusually in the history of Rome, I had killed personally with my own sword. Most Emperors have got others to do the dirty work for them). He had got them as twins of ten years age, from a defeated African state, and they had been trained as masseurs. Huge, muscled men now, they were perhaps the best in the Empire, and (I hoped) completely loyal. Several of my predecessors had been assassinated by attendants here in this very sauna suite. I was pleased my predecessor had not had them castrated, as was customary for palace slaves. I expect he enjoyed their huge cocks up his arse from time to time, but I enjoyed their manly appearance from afar, as it were. (He was what the barbarians call 'Bottom'.) We lay on the benches, side by side, and I had my usual vigorous massage, while Crispus was treated more gently. His Nubian (I could never tell them apart) had the most massive erection as he thumped and kneaded the boy's arse cheeks and shoulders. Crispus' eyes were wide as he watched perhaps the largest cock in the empire. Then the scented oils, and the scrapers to get rid of the grime of the city, and make us ready for the bed-wrestling, for which the massage had prepared us. We had been nearly an hour in the hot room, and we stood hand in hand beside the cold plunge. Just as I keep the hot-room on the edge of dangerous, so I keep the cold pool ice-cold, with ice imported from the mountains. As we leaped in the shock was like a sword thrust (and, yes, I know what that feels like too, several times!) We both screamed, I ducked him and I made him count to twenty, slowly, before we heaved ourselves out. The Nubians waited with towels, while Paphos stood ready with our clothes. Instead of the usual single couches for dining, I had commanded a large double one to be set out, so we could lay together as we ate. I dined frugally, as usual, on cheese, bread and a glass of wine. Crispus ate heartily from a pie, I assume game-pie from the cleverly sculpted golden pastry deer, hare and partridge that decorated its crust. I noticed he drank three glasses of the rich red wine. Good, that would help to relax him for what was to come. We finished with grapes, and made a great game of kissing, passing a grape from mouth to mouth. As we embraced I felt his buttocks, firm and smooth under the tight-stretched silk of his underwear. Paphos understood these things and knew how silk could enhance without hiding sexual charms. He wore nothing but the finest silk lingerie himself, under his expensive feminine robes. Crispus was trying to find naked flesh under my toga, hands slipping between folds, but failing to find the way in. I left him with the grape, and went down to nuzzle his balls with my mouth and nose. Small and smooth under the silk. I took his cock in my mouth, under the silk. It was limp, and I knew it would go hard soon. I wanted it before that.. Urgently, I undid the simple bronze pin, and stripped the scarf away. Then his cock in my mouth, all of it, folded and soft, until my face pressed into the light, golden fuzz of pubic hair. I sucked and licked round it with my tongue and had that exquisite pleasure of feeling it harden in my mouth. I kept my nose pressed into his belly, so as it hardened it had to touch first my palate, and then seek out my throat. But I did not want him to come in my throat, not again, and not yet. I turned him over on his belly and stripped the white silk tunic from him. Then my toga, which joined it on the floor behind our couch. I parted his white buttocks to reveal the pretty little brown puckered anus that would be the object of my attention now. I knelt, my face between those alluring cheeks, my tongue seeking out his arsehole. The skin was smooth and soft for my lips as I kissed his buttocks. He giggled and wriggled as I licked round the hard- muscled rim. I licked harder, and he murmured how nice it felt. I rewarded him for his eager compliance by inserting my tongue, and reaming it round and round. He giggled and raised his bottom for even deeper penetration. Good! This was not going to be one of those episodes of tears and recriminations. Virgins are delightful when it all goes well! As a young soldier I enjoyed rape, of course, but a young, willing partner is so much more suited to middle-age! There was olive oil on the low table. I took the flask and tasted it... wouldn't do if it were peppered! A few drops into his crease, and a few on my fingers. I massaged the outside of his anus, rubbing my index finger up and down, but pressing and gradually penetrating more with each rub, Now my finger was in to the first knuckle, and I was able to finger fuck him properly. I moved so we were side by side, and kissed him, still finger-fucking. He was completely relaxed, not gripping me as I sought out that spot my Greek doctor had explained to me as being the seat of masculine pleasure. He groaned in ecstasy as I rubbed the place, and his tongue slipped into mine. I added a second finger, stretching him, and still he did not contract on me. The strong wine was working. He was ready. His arse was relaxed, and he was open for me. I oiled my cock. I felt his hand reach round, and slip down my oiled shaft. 'I've never... I mean , please.. sir.' 'I'll be gentle, young Crispus. I want you to learn to enjoy this.' 'You're terribly big, sir.' 'I a fortnight, boy, you'll want my Nubian up you.' I laughed. He was silent again, doubtless remembering that huge, erect cock, and wondering if that could ever get up any arse, let alone his own. I arranged him, a pillow under his thighs to raise his arse. One leg straight, the other crooked. I parted his buttocks, kneeling behind him, and placed my knob. The slightest pressure and my knob was in him. Without pausing I slid it up until my full length was inserted, and my hairless belly rested on his equally smooth bottom. Later he told me that for the first few minutes he had felt no pleasure, but gradually something communicated to his cock, and he found he was hard, and wanted to wank. But with my weight on him, his cock pressed into the pillow, he could not. By now I was slipping in and out with long slow sweeps. I allowed myself the added pleasure of licking and kissing his shoulders and neck, there where the hairs were fine and blonde. I tried to caress him with one hand, but needed both to support my weight. I knew he was enjoying his first fuck now. His boyish arse was rising to meet my downward thrusts. I grasped his hips and lifted him slightly, slipping a hand under him. He was hard! I pulled out. He moaned a protest. But it was only to turn him over on his back, lift his long, supple legs to my shoulders exposing his anus, open now, and slide in again. Now he was able to wank as I fucked him. His eyes were closed in his ecstasy, and his little fist jerked harder and faster. I tweaked a hard little nipple, and kissed the other. A little spurt of cum onto his belly as he came was enough to push me over the top, and I came in him, a gush with each thrust, as he smiled, eyes open now, looking me in the face. I have seen men's faces when they cum. The first is never forgotten, that grimace almost of pain. Anyway, he found it interesting and amusing, as I could see from his laughing eyes. Still hard, and in him, I kissed him, and we lay a long moment embracing. Then his arse contracted and expelled me. ............................................................. It was nearly three months before I tired of him, and my eye wandered elsewhere. Among Paphos' many lovers was the Major Domo of the Solanus mansion. As well as filling my Greek valet's arse with his doubtless considerable Roman meat, he encouraged the two of them to spy on his young master's bed-wrestling with his new wife. Paphos reported to me that she was multi-orgasmic, and that despite the strange fact that her husband Gaius Solanus never sucked her cunt, nor did he use her mouth or arsehole for his (or her) pleasure. He described her long fine legs, slender, almost boyish hips, tiny waist, and small but firm and shapely breasts. I had seen her long, glossy, black hair, full red lips, and those gentle, dark, doe-eyes. She was a beauty indeed. I wanted her, and wanted her the more in the knowledge that her husband had neglected much of his marital duty. Multi-orgasmic, and a virgin arse and mouth. A treat fit for the Ruler of the World! It was easy to arrange. Gaius Solanus was only too pleased to be assigned to the Egypt grain contract negotiation. Each year an imperial emissary was sent to Alexandria to negotiate prices and quantities of Egyptian grain to fill our Roman granaries. The negotiator returned with honour for having secured another year of plenty, and richer for the percentages that always stuck to his fingers! He would be away four months, enough time for me to enjoy and tire of Julia, and as a bonus when he returned he would find his lovely young bride skilled and eager in the arts of love...and probably pregnant too. That last evening, Crispus was dressed in a scarlet tunic with gold embroideries. He would be naked under it, I knew. Paphos had recently dressed his hair in the Greek style, with four tight curls over his forehead. He was as lovely as ever, but I knew I would be thinking of Julia's slender hips as I shagged him. Usually I just had him. If I wanted conversation, there were many wiser and wittier than him! So he was surprised when I spoke before fucking. 'I spoke with your father yesterday. He tells me you want a military career.' 'I'm nearly fifteen, sir, and many boys are training by then.' 'And quite right, too. I was a boy in the army. You shall join the army, in a fighting legion.' 'Thankyou, sir.' 'You have the makings of a soldier.' I grasped his biceps. 'A detatchment of light cavalry leaves Rome for the Dacian frontier tomorrow. You will join it, and when you reach the legion you will be a personal assistant to Marcus Graccus.' Graccus was the best of our generals, an old colleague of mine, and was currently fighting a hard and bloody campaign against the Dacian barbarians. 'Galba has selected three horses for you, and the military equipment you will need.' 'Thankyou, sir. So this is our last night.' 'You have sisters, Crispus.' 'Three, sir.' 'Are they as pretty as you, boy?' I kissed him on the forehead. 'The oldest is barely eleven, sir. But she will be pretty, and blonde.' 'Then by the time you return to Rome she will be fourteen or fifteen. And beautiful. We must have her together, boy.' He was silent. Then, 'Sir, may I ask one thing?' 'Ask!' 'May I have you, sir. Just once. Please.' 'So you can boast you fucked the Emperor? All right. All the officers will want your sweet arse, but Graccus will want you to fuck him, I'm sure. A bit of practise now won't be amiss.' 'Kneeling.' He entered me with great assurance, no fumbling about. Must have been practising with someone. Probably been fucking Paphos! As he laboured away at me my mind wandered. It was years since I had a cock in my arse, but as a boy, so many. I must have been pretty then. Several of my father's friends had me: the one who first seduced me fucked me regularly. Then in the army one or other of the older officers every night. Crispus was fucking me harder now, his thighs smashing into my buttocks. Astonishingly I was beginning to enjoy it. I felt an urgent need to wank, and felt between my legs to grasp my cock. As I jerked, I realised I should teach Julia to do me with a strap-on. With this thought I was starting to come, spilling myself onto the silk sheets. I felt Crispus coming, his cock slipping easier as he filled me with that hot, thick cum I had known so well... FIN Dictated to Paphos the slave in the 17th year of the rule of The Emperor Domitianicus.