Apology: The ages of the characters or the arrangement of events may violate historical records. Forgive the author. This is literary licence.
Warning: It is not with the author's approval that any underage child (18 or less) is present and reading this salacious stuff. Please leave as soon as your back button is reached.
I am Mark Anthony, a noble Roman, considered the most favored man in the world, perfect of body, handsome of face, still youthful ready to die for my Caesar.
I write this account of part of my tarry in Egypt one year after my return to the Senate.
What a life I have led. At the age of twelve, my young lithesome body caught the eye of great Caesar. He took a patron's interest in me, arranged for my schooling and my elegant dress. Naturally, my master expected certain favors. I was pleased to comply with his wishes and needs. Some boys I knew lost their maleness from these activities, but not me. I am a proficient lover of women. When I use my praetorian flesh lance between their thighs they dance to my tune, singing their pleasure and some faint through excess of feeling.
So it was when I met the enchanting Cleopatra. Although Caesar was attempting to become her lover, when she saw me, her eyes narrowed in passion and she leaned heavily on her serpent staff to keep from falling in a swoon. She was an extravagant beauty: eyes that held you until she looked away, breasts that thrust out to the world, but warned not to touch, but it was her whole body that was a generous gift from a kind god. She was colored pale tan, her limbs were slim, but supple and her feet something to kiss and pet.
One day, two weeks after I had arrived in Cairo, I had not yet brought the proud queen to my bed. I had to content with my Greek servant. He devoted himself to emptying my ball sac whenever I felt my prong in need of attention. And when I asked, he bared his perfect, boy arse so I might piece his hot hole. Oh how that young Greek would howl in pleasure as I sawed away, finally spilling my balm on his abused hole.
A day that I felt the need of sex, a note arrived with the royal seal. It read: Dear MA, I have denied myself of your gallantry long enough. My other lips are moist in anticipation. Meet me in the little reading room in the palace at sunset. It was signed with an ornate "C".
I entered the little room. I sat on a fur-draped couch. Soon a hidden door opened near a statue of Isis. A slim figure emerged into the dim light. She was lightly veiled. Silver and gold bracelets glimmered in the dim light. Her legs were bare, perfect smooth, polished tan began her dance. She performed several gyrating steps. As she passed near me provocatively, I smelled rare perfumes emanating from her body.
I watched the performance, an audience of one. I dared not think it, but her dance was inexpert. I had seen street dancers on the Rialto as good. Finally I could not stand the passion her presence and hint of willingness. I rose, my toga was thrust out by the erection of my noble organ. I tore off the garment and stood naked from my waist downward. She stopped dancing and came close. She was panting from her efforts and I hoped from passion as well.
I took hold of her sapling of a body in an embrace, and grabbed the veil and pulled it off roughly. As it disengaged it pulled at her hair. She reached to retrieve her hair arrangement, but the entire affair lifted and pulled away and fell on the floor. It was an artful wig. Now standing in front of me was the beautiful Ptolemy, brother of Cleopatra, Prince of Egypt. He was sixteen at this time, in the breaking dawn of maturity. He had his sister's face, but he was not a lithesome girl, rather a strong male boy with growing muscles.
I was both shocked and stimulated by this turn of events. I determined to teach the lovely boy a lesson as a punishment for his prank. Before I could get myself into some action Ptolemy stripped off his garments, revealing a tan sapling of a body, a long thin penis erected and swaying as he stared at me with his kohl ringed eyes and pursed carmine tinted baby lips. With a cry, he thrust himself down, his upper body lying on an empty sarcophagus that was carved for his sister's eventual funeral and sleep for eternity. His slim backside was exposed and he held both of his perfect ass orbs aside revealing his round opening and to my delight, showed the space between fuzzy with baby hair. I moaned outload at seeing it. I dropped my toga on the floor and let my prong wave in the air. I guessed that the boy had stretched his opening with dildos as it was wide and round. He was muttering and mewling in passion. "Don't be a Roman girl, be brave, pierce me hard. I wasted no further time, I moved up close, but the blunt end of my fat weapon against his hole and it slipped in. He howled in approval. There was a large polished gold disc that was there to include in Cleopatra's belongings for the trip. As I settled myself inside the hot boy, I could, looking over his sinewy back, his face reflected in the surface. His tongue was hanging out, his face was crunched into a demon's expression and his eyes shot sparks. He kept up a constant wail of passion as I began cruelly battering his arse. His long penis was swaying below him, dripping fluid. I was so overcome with the strangeness of the moment, as well as the danger, that I felt I could not exert my usual control over my sex storm. Suddenly my eyes rolled upward, my muscles locked and I let out a roar of victory as my lance began to express volleys of fluid into the whimpering boy. He began animalistic grunts as he felt the searing essence splash into his body. His swaying organ began shooting streams of cum in a circle motion as he body weaved and bucked in uncontrollable passion.
Finally I slipped by spent organ out of his anis. His hole closed, trying to keep me in. At last he fell in a heap on the floor. I tossed his girlish clothes at him, pulled my toga on and strode out of the room.
I hadn't let him see it, but I was spent both sexually and physically. I fell on my sleeping couch and slept for many hours. I was awakened by Polius, my Greek body servant. He was wearing his usual brief white garment, his handsome legs fully exposed. "Master, may I bathe you?"
I acquiesced. "Oh thank you Master." He cried in happiness.
He arranged my still sleepy body so that I was on my back. He gently removed my garments. I was already slipping into the sex daze that overtakes one when a handsome young man is busy bringing waves of pleasure. He loved exciting me with his puffy Greek lips and slippery tongue. He kissed my neck, he breathed into my ears, he licked the pink erectile centers of my chest, sucking my navel, and kissing my inner thighs. I was transported, dizzy with my heavy breathing, awaiting the supreme thrill of his tender mouth taking my organ in and suckling me to an explosion. Suddenly he said, "Oh." He left me and fell on his knees with his head against the floor. "Mighty Caesar, welcome to our bed chamber."
I lifted up on my elbows. There stood my ruler attended by a tall, blonde haired lad, very lithe and yet muscular, a real beauty. Caesar appeared vigorous and healthy, his sixty years lying lightly on him.
"I have come to bring you great pleasure. At my side is John, a captive slave from the Anglo-Saxon realm. He speaks only the guttural language of the primitive people of his island, but he speaks most eloquently with his flesh spear." He lifted up the short tunic. The lad was naked underneath. His flaccid penis was at least six inches long. The boy smiled proudly at being displayed. "I am past the time of being able to piece his arse, and I am too important to allow him access to my rear quarters, but you, dear Mark Anthony, you have early training in the talent. I bring him to you so he can keep his valuable skills sharp. Please therefore, assume the lower person's position to be entered for sex. As to your Greek boy, he can continue his ministrations by munching on my noble organ."
"Your greatness, I most humbly protest. I am a noble of Rome, surely you do not want me to act the animal, bested by a mere slave boy?"
Caesar smashed my face with his fist. "Quiet you insect. If you continue your insubordination I will have you beheaded within the hour."
I signed reluctantly but there was no option. I rested on my elbows and knees. Behind me I could hear a rustle of clothes as the slave boy John disrobed. I looked back, his lips were drawn back in a harsh smile. His lance was at full extension. I shook with fear and sweat broke out all over my body. As he moved into position I could hear the slurping of my slave, attending to Caesar's pleasure.
John put the head of his penis against my anis. I wept slightly as the prospect of the coming pain. John laughed at my fear and insolently slapped my arse cheek. I heard Caesar laughing heartily. He pushed against the opening and entered, the slap disorienting me and opening up my arse. I was shamed. He entered further. He was about half way inside and the head of his organ massaged that place inside. I knew from my youth that once that was breached, t the man on the bottom had no further volition and he was a slave to the one above. I fell into the same role as I began meeting his thrusts. John laughed in pleasure at his conquest. He reached around and pulled insolently on my soft penis, to my embarrassment, grew hard from his touch. He knew I was beginning to like his actions. He was singing a song to me, a native song as he grunted and fully entered my orifice. I cried out in pleasure. "Oh, you low child, you have no right to be above me, entered and withdrawing from my insides, but the thrills running through my body makes up for the shame. Do your worst, do it with vigor, make me your animal."
On some level he understood and with a cry of triumph he began a rapid in and out, rubbing my sensitive areas and making me almost faint with the power of the sensations. I was moaning and crying like a whore of the Rialto, all dignity forgotten in the fabulous pleasure he was giving me. Finally the last vestige of my manhood vanished as, without touching it, my penis gave out powerful spurts of my male fluid, as I rocked and howled in pleasure as my tentacles emptied themselves like a cow being milked. John screamed his own release as he drenched my insides with his male milk. It seared me and marked me for life as a male whore.
When he had finished, he moved away from me, knelt down before Caesar. Caesar pushed away my Greek Boy. He put a hand on the English lad and said, "Well done. I will reward you will your freedom. I think thank Polius here will take your place very well."
He exited with my Greek boy. John tarried a moment, took his opportunity with Caesar out of the room to slap my arse even harder than before.
I fell on my back. Oh what a bitter fate has befallen Mark Anthony. How my mighty self has come down. But, someday Caesar will be repaid.
End
You all know what happened to Julius later at the Senate.