The Queen's Marble CockPosted on : 2012-01-26 14:59:01.722915
The day had been long & I began to nod on the couch with the History Channel on the TV. A documentary was on about the underworld of the Roman Coliseum. The narrator's voice played easily through my head. In that gauzy state that was not quite asleep or awake, I thought of my boyfriend of five months, Jeremy. He would've made one hell of a gladiator. Six foot three and strapping with a shaved head and goatee, I imagined his arms burnished by Rome's sun and sculpted to impossible dimension by hours of sword fighting. The narrator continued to tell me of hidden annals, secret ramps and forgotten tunnels belonging to the underworld city beneath the famed arena. I drifted further into fantasy about Jeremy in leather and breastplates.
He is mine, was a gift from my cousin who felt I needed to take more interest in the bloodthirsty battles of the Coliseum. He felt if I had my own fighter, my own gladiator plaything, that I'd have a stake in what went on inside those curved and wizened walls. The particulars of such tournaments were largely uninteresting to me. I had always been a queer sort of a girl who had grown into an enigmatic and twisted woman. Not that I was queried on my eccentricities. I was russet haired, blue eyed and fetching. Furthermore, I was Queen. The Emperor had no regard for my notions of entertainment any more than I did for his. But marriages of our kind were for land and dowries, nothing more.
However it wouldn't do for me to doze at his elbow whilst lions tore through human flesh on the dusty arena floor, hence my cousin's intercedence. A gift this gladiator was, and my mind's eye filled Jeremy into the role. He is mine. His name is Tiberius.
He's managed to stay alive through enough tournaments to matter--quick when he needed to be, stronger than many, clever with a flair that appealed to me. Jeremy/Tiberius was larger than life it seemed. I never could ignore someone with such presence. Not that I could appear affected in any way when his eyes grabbed at mine, but from the moment he was presented to me with a thick chain encircling his neck, my imagination roiled with my trademark naughtiness.
"My Queen," Tiberius said from his knees. "I dedicate every battle forward to your Highness. Each move I make will be a tribute. May the Gods see fit for me to fight with more heart than I knew I possessed."
Shielding my besotted intake of breath with a fan waved at my throat, I replied, "You were a gift. Gifts of this kind I've not before received. As the first of your kind, I trust you'll make me proud."
Those were the only words I trusted myself to speak. Under the guise of impatience I had him shown away, back to the slave quarters where he stayed. But I had plans for him. Let him show me his best; I would test limits that man never dreamed existed.
Tiberius. I caressed his name in my mouth before every tournament, preparing myself with a new enthusiasm for the coming exhibition. Fight for me he did. He ran swords through opponents as if they were water. The wild animals staked down to devour the unlucky never got a taste of Tiberius' blood. He was too sharp, his loins so strong. His loins. His loins and legs captured much of my attention. I felt a flush grow in my cheeks the harder he battled. My cousin was thrilled with the rapt attention I gave the action happening below our decorated seats.
"See?" I overheard him telling the Emperor. "All Her Highness needed was a warrior of her own."
But I had not yet begun the battle of will with my warrior. That came later, not long, as a month was the most I could hold back. Normally my own eagerness would have shamed me. However this was not the circumstance for that.
When I made my way beneath the wending Coliseum tunnels, I carried with me a small wooden chest. It was outfitted with brass locks to keep out nosy handmaidens. The keys I kept in my bosom for dramatic effect; once I came upon my Tiberius it was my scene of sorts, far different than those he experienced on the arena floor.
Slaves' quarters were not the most comfortable place for me to be. I had visited before for similar reasons but none of these currently imprisoned would remember me. Those witnesses were all dead to battle. It wasn't often I prowled the underworld here and if the world went as the world went, days separated these witnesses from the sight of me sweeping through the corridors until their demise. Death was everywhere in the Coliseum. But my Tiberius, he was here too. I had to find him.
Pitiful to see him in his element. I so badly wished to take him away and keep him ensconced somewhere more fitting. Perhaps the world would allow time for that. For now, I hiss his name through the bars and watch his face leave the skimpy fire that had been warming him.
"My Highness," he said. The proprietary nature of his address did not escape me, rather it pleased me to know he felt us on slightly different ground than the typical royalty/slave arrangement.
"Yes, your Highness. MY Tiberius."
"Whatever are you doing here? Do I have a special assignment?"
"As a matter of fact, that is exactly why I am here." I produced the keys from my bosom and his eyes followed my hands. The dirt on his face from the day is highlighted in the dusky glow of his fire. I feel a familiar excitement begin at my core and tremble as I unlock his cage.
"...wish only to serve you."
This I knew. I was sure in the way he held my imperious gaze during victory, how he turned his body towards my decorated seat in the crowd as entered the arena to fight. From the moment the tournament started and indeed, far before, Tiberius was concentrated solely on me.
"Serve me you shall," I said softly, taking hold of his neck chain and leading him through a warren of tunnels to a place I know is private. A little scary, but all ours.
"They keep the animals here," Tiberius. said, with more than a little trepidation in his voice.
"I know this. They're secured, Tiberius. they can't hurt us." I turn to him and press him against a convenient outcropping of rock. "They just watch. Hold out your hands."
Tiberius obeyed, and I placed the small trunk I'd been carrying into his waiting palms. I took the opportunity to stroke his large, strong hands as he held the precious case. I couldn't control myself from running my touch up his forearms to his biceps. The intensity of my core heat grew. The cords in his neck. His shaved dome. I touched him everywhere it pleased me as he obediently held onto the trunk with tight fingers.
"Why do you always speak?"
"I am overwhelmed. I can't help it." The deadly animals snored and groaned in the general vicinity as Tiberius' widened eyes found mine. "What is my fate here?"
"Of course you wouldn't understand," I replied. "So few do. I take it you've heard no rumors."
"None, my Queen."
I unlocked the trunk case and lifted the lid. The interior was lined with burgundy silk and I deftly moved the folds aside. Tilt the case so he can look inside.
It takes a few moments but he runs his stare over my bosom, my hair, my face where the answers can be found. "I ask again, what is my fate here?"
"You are going to take one of these," I said, removing one of six marble crafted cocks from the case. "It doesn't matter which one. But you will take one, for your Queen, and furthermore, for your owner."
Tiberius sifted a chuckle through his throat which indicated he was not in complete agreement with this task I'd set before him. My voice sharpened. "Indeed, for your owner, to whom you swore your service. Your Queen, whom you claim to adore. This is not such a very difficult thing, Tiberius. You'd be surprised what one can get used to under certain circumstances. I thought you'd be intelligent enough to grasp that."
At that moment a tiger growled. Tiberius twitched and I could tell he hated himself for it.
"Come now," I wheedled. "You can't believe I'm not aware of the lust and buggery that threads through these quarters. Anywhere you get a bunch of... driven... men together, things are going to happen." I paused. "I've watched."
"I fear you know too much for your years, Highness."
"Fear nothing I offer you, Tiberius. It's when I stop offering that you need to worry." Again I tilted the contents of the box towards him so he could see. I had all night if that's what it would take. But I wasn't leaving being anything but the victor.
His formidable, unruly brows that protected his eyes from the sun arched as he examined the choices presented to him. The chain subtly rattled as he moved to touch the cocks I'd spent years collecting. He weighed, parsimoniously examining the offerings. My heat was almost too much to contain. "I'll take such good care of you, Tiberius." I said without shame. "I would never hurt you more than you could bear, You're a strong warrior. You can do this for me."
At last he sighed and laid to rest the last marble masterpiece. "I am yours, Highness. The decision is yours, and I am but your willing gladiator."
Tossing my hair aside, I began unhooking the bodice of the dress I'd worn to the slave quarters. It dropped to the dirt floor. Underneath I wore a corset specially outfitted with an aperture to accommodate any cock I owned. In this manner I could fit myself with a marble toy and take my prisoner like my Emperor could take begging castle laundrywomen, as was his wont. A block of grease in a separate compartment of the trunk helped expedite my deed. My only question was if I wanted to see his face or enter him from behind.
My decision wavered towards the latter. I had admired his rock hard loins and powerful legs from the first, so now I kiss his dirty face in a treasured circle, not ignoring his shaved dome. "Turn around, my beloved warrior."
With a sigh he turns towards the outcropping of rock and finds a place there for his elbows. Just like the good gladiators before him. I choose the cock I will use, cooing my encouragement and greasing it for Tiberius. I don't wish to hurt him. I wish to possess him in a fashion my cousin could only suspect.
Moving aside the leather flaps of his skirt caused me great excitement. His fine, high riding ass taunted me in the bare firelight kept burning in the wall sconces of the animal pit. I grease the fold between his cheeks. I offer my fingers first, and hear him groan.
"Your groan is a tribute, Tiberius," I tell him. "You instinctively know so much about pleasing your Highness." My cock was in place. Tiberius was ready to be trained.
There is no comparable feeling to bearing into a submissive. Resistance is natural but can be overcome. I am a woman of great patience and strength of mind. Tiberius gasps with the undertone of an injured boy and I understand his communique. He is experiencing nothing like anything given to him before. He will remember me for the rest of his life.
Deeper now. I have not yet begun the withdraw. I stroke his perfect ass and grab onto the strongest part of his thighs to draw myself closer. "My beloved," I murmur, not caring if he hears me. Let the lions and wild cats hear me. It is true. Tiberius is mine, and we are in a beautiful place together.
We begin to rock. He pants with the effort of taking my marble cock to a steady rhythm, and I do not rush him. This is our communion, no time for a hurried coupling. "Please," he begs me.
"What do you beg me for, my pet?"
"Please, your Highness, more."
I give. The thrill of giving stimulates me in ways I am rarely treated to, and I begin to feel a zenith rising in me. "Touch yourself, Tiberius." I hiss in a voice barely recognizable as my own. My thrusting accentuates every other word. "You will leave your tribute on the stone wall as is fitting. Do you understand?"
"Oh Yes, my goddess."
"But not yet." Sweat stands out on my forehead and pricks my armpits as I take him. "I will be ready soon."
And then it comes. The burgeoning golden well inside of me crescendos, and I ride it out with more than a little noise. But it's lost in this underground chamber. I fear no interruption or alarm. Only my Tiberius can truly hear it, truly appreciate it. Turning him to face me, I bear into him anew.
"I command you now, warrior," I said. "Show me your devotion."
It was not on the stone wall that he left his tribute, but I allow for such improvisation. I ached to see his face. Contorted in superhuman passion, he stroked his fine cock until it jets copious along his chest. It hits his mouth and he reflexively spits it out. I slap him and kiss the remaining liquid from his lips.
"You do not waste in my underworld," I said, biting his full lower lip for effect and cleaning the moisture from his goatee. "And how do you love your Highness now?"
"My Queen, I am ever devoted." Tiberius catches his breath and continues. "I wish to be the one you turn to when these urges overtake you."
"So you shall be."
Tiberius is returned to his quarters, but over time I devise a much better plan for my gladiator plaything. I convince my cousin to graduate him from the rough tumbles in the arena to be my personal bodyguard which requires a much closer occupation of my space. He's given a hidey-hole in the annals of the castle with a door that locks tight. The Emperor hardly cares. He carries on as I carry on, and our exceedingly civil marriage continues for the benefit of the masses.
And Tiberius proves to be a trooper. He tries every marble cock I have. Eventually.
Back in wakefulness, I cannot erase the gladiator fantasy from my mind. I attempt to tell Jeremy about it but can't seem to convey the meat of the eroticism I dreamt up while in that hazy state with the History Channel droning in the background, feeding my fantasy. I decide the only way to make it real is to visit a year-round costume shop in his neighborhood. I inquire about breastplates, Spartan hats, shields and such. They have a marvelous sectioned leather skirt that closely matched the one I parted to see Tiberius' high riding ass as I fucked him. It took my breath away.
"It's not Halloween," he says to me, examining gauntlets and shin guards and chain metal.
"Does it have to be?" I replied.
No, it never has to be. And I've seen some gorgeous glass dildos on the market that could easily substitute for marble....
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