Work Text:
My armour isn't anywhere near as fine as it should be for the role, but Caius doesn't care. He looks as if he could quite happily bring himself off just looking at it, and that's a sight I wouldn't mind watching. He's wanted this game for weeks, though, and I don't intend to disappoint him. His enthusiasm is irresistible; it makes this bare room feel like an imperial chamber, and his simple robe seem like a prince's raiment. He's throwing himself into his role already, giving me an imperious glare that just begs to be subdued by force. Caius is almost as strong as I am, but tonight you wouldn't know it, you’d think he was a weak, sheltered little noble, easily overpowered and taken by anyone with a strong enough arm. Tonight he's no merchant's son and I'm no common soldier. Tonight he's a powerless boy-Emperor, and I'm the Praetorian Prefect keeping him locked up in his gilded prison.
"How dare you lay your hands on me!" Caius cries, as I seize hold of his waist and fling him down onto his back. When he hits the bed, the look on his face could curdle milk, but even as he complains, he wriggles and squirms underneath me vigorously enough that his robes fall wide open. "I should call in the rest of the Guard and have you executed for treason!"
"By all means, call for them." I run my hands over his bare skin, down over his chest and stomach, drinking in the warmth of his body. The cloak spread out beneath us might not be quite the right shade of purple, but against its richness his skin looks almost golden, smooth and immaculate and ripe to be marked. "You'll find they're loyal to me, not you. My men wouldn't lift a finger to help you even if you were shouting the palace down."
"Insolent dog!" He brings his hand up as if he means to slap my face, but I catch his wrist easily and deliver a slap of my own. My palm strikes his cheek good and hard, and he shrieks in pain as if I've run him through. As ever, I'm in awe of how skilfully he plays his role. I know he can take more than that – a lot more than that – but to look at him you'd think he really was afraid for his life. Unless you happened to look down, that is.
"Don't forget your place, most noble Caesar." I fill each word with contempt, and I can feel Caius squirming underneath me, lapping up every bit of it. "You're nothing but a figurehead, and everyone knows it."
When I clamp my hand over his mouth, his eyes widen and his back arches, and I don't need to hear his voice to get the message. His gaze follows my free hand over to the table, watching intently as I dip my fingers in the little bowl of oil. I've seen that look on his face so many times before; no matter how recently he's been fucked, it always feels to him as if he's been kept waiting too long, and watching me prepare to take him is like slow, quiet torture when he's in that mood. So I take my time over it, coating my fingers thoroughly, until my hand is wet and glistening right up to the knuckles.
"Nothing but a pretty little puppet, aren't you? And who pulls those strings, eh?"
His protests and moans only get louder as I push the fingers of my right hand inside him. Caius takes one finger easily, then a second, and it's only the third that really seems to tax him. The flesh inside him is so soft, so hot, that it's always a struggle not to push forward and fill him the moment I touch him. It's a struggle I'm well acquainted with, though, and for now I keep the pace of my hand's movements steady and slow as I taunt him.
"It isn't those advisors of yours, is it? Or the senate, though I'm sure you've taken one or two of those old vultures into your bed, haven't you?" I laugh as his muscles tense around my fingers, as he stares up at me, wide-eyed and red-cheeked. "No, it's not them who issues your orders, is it? It's not them who pulls the strings and makes you dance."
My fingers hit just the right angle, and Caius wails against my palm. I smile down at him, watching the shame and lust in his eyes. Just a little more torment, and then I'll give him what he needs.
"Who is it, then? Who's your master?" I move my hand down to his throat, and the moment his mouth is free, he moans pitifully.
"You," he whimpers, breathing hard and quivering around my fingers. "It's you, it's always you."
"That's right." I tighten my hand around his throat, cutting off a little more of his air, and I let my other hand move faster now, plunging my fingers in up to the knuckle with each thrust. "You're mine, and you'd better not forget it."
"I won't, I won't…" He sounds almost frantic now, and when I withdraw my fingers he gives another moan, much more petulant now than pitiful. I let go of his throat and kneel upright between his legs, letting him watch as I bare and oil my cock. It's just another form of torment for Caius, frustrating enough for him and delicious enough for me that I'm tempted to make him wait all night.
"Bring your legs up," I command, slapping him hard on the thigh to underline the order. "Get those legs apart and spread yourself open for me, boy. Let me see how much my little Emperor wants his Prefect's cock."
He looks away, but he does as he's told, drawing his thighs up and apart and tilting his hips until his ass is perfectly exposed. If he was flushed with embarrassment before, his cheeks are scarlet with shame now, and his cock twitches and throbs as if he can feel my gaze on him. "You can do better than that," I chide him, running a fingertip around the rim of his ass, stroking the delicate pink flesh of it just firmly enough to make him squirm. "Use your hands, spread that pretty little ass wide open for me, and then maybe I'll give you what you need."
Caius whimpers again but obeys immediately, cupping a hand around each buttock and splaying them apart. The blush colouring his face is as dark now as the rosy flesh of his ass, and I can't imagine a more provoking sight.
"That's better." I stroke myself lightly as I command him, letting him hear in my voice just how much I'm enjoying his humiliation. "Now beg for it."
"Please…" he begins, still looking away as he speaks. "Please, Aulus–"
"Look at me." I cut him off, unwilling to allow him even the pretence of modesty.
He pauses, but doesn't comply, so I reach forward and take hold of his hair, yanking his head back into position and forcing him to meet my gaze. His eyes are dark and hot and pleading, and it's harder than ever now not to just fall on him and fuck him raw. "Look at me," I repeat, tightening my fist around his hair, "and beg for it."
This time he holds my gaze, staring up at me with those big, dark eyes like he's begging for his life. "Please fuck me, please, I need it, I need your cock inside me, please…"
His voice trails off into a groan as I take hold of his cock. "Look at you," I say, low and mocking. "What a vision of imperial majesty you make, on your back and begging for cock like a whore."
"Like your whore…" Caius murmurs, thrusting up into my hand. He looks almost drunk on pleasure, like he'd do or say anything for the slightest taste of satisfaction. "Please, fuck me like I'm just your whore…"
"Oh, you are my whore, boy." I hook one hand under his knee, holding him in place as I line my cock up against his ass. The touch of it against his flesh makes him squirm and whimper, and I laugh as I tease him with just the slightest thrust forward. "My greedy little whore and my pitiful little slave."
Caius arches his back as I push forward slowly, feeding him my cock inch by inch until he's taken the whole of it and I can feel his muscles tensing and relaxing around me like a heartbeat. Every time I move inside him, he gives a little whimper as if he can't take it at all, but we both know that's far from the truth. His hands move up to rest against the metal of my breastplate, and normally I'd pin his arms down just to show him who's in charge, but I can't deny him this pleasure. He rubs his fingertips over the contours of the armour, tracing its details over and over as I fuck him. He doesn't even bother to touch himself, and I wouldn't be surprised if he could come just from this, so rapt is his expression as he strokes the metal.
The heat of him is irresistible. I grab hold of his ankles and fuck him harder, leaning back so I can watch him take it. His hands move from my chest to my arms, and those hungry fingertips begin to trace over the curve of my biceps, as if my flesh is an extension of the armour he loves so much.
"I can't take it," he moans, tipping his hips up to meet my thrusts. One of his hands finally slips down to stroke his cock, and even then he whimpers as if I'm the one toying with him. "You're breaking me, you're tearing me apart…"
"And there's nothing you can do about it." I take the hint and tighten my grip on his ankles, giving it to him harder now than ever. "You're at my mercy, little Caesar. That tight little ass is mine to use as I please, whether you like it or not."
"It's too much, you're too much, I can't take it…" Caius gasps, clutching at my back with his free hand, and working the other firm and fast over his cock as if he means to break himself.
"But you will take it," I say, and what starts out as a mocking laugh fades into a groan. All his struggling and protesting is pushing me close to the edge, much faster than I'd planned. I let go of his ankles and lean forward, grabbing hold of his throat. "You'll take my cock all night if I command you to, won't you?"
Caius nods, giving a little choked whimper as my fingers tighten around his throat. He sounds like he's almost there himself, so I bring my other hand up and clamp it over his mouth.
"Cry out all you like," I taunt him, fucking him in vicious, merciless thrusts, watching his eyes all the while. "Beg and plead and scream, it doesn't matter. I'm going to keep fucking you until that pretty ass is ruined, and there's nothing you can do about it, is there, my little catamite?"
He yelps and wails as he comes, writhing and thrashing hard enough that he almost throws me off altogether. I keep my grip tight, though, even as I feel his teeth scraping against my palm and his nails digging into my skin, until he finally collapses back against the bed.
"Please," he says, as soon as I've taken my hand from his mouth. He looks up at me with those dark, half-closed eyes still full of hunger. "Come inside me, please, I need it…"
And as spent as he is, I think he really does. "That's right, beg for it." I command, keeping my pace steady. I could let go right now, but I want to hear him plead again, this time for my pleasure and mine alone.
"Give it to me, please, make me take it all…" He reaches down and cups the cheeks of his ass again, spreading himself wide open for me, just the way he knows I like it. He knows me too well, and it's difficult to hold off as he keeps right on begging and whimpering and squirming around my cock. "Look how desperate you make me, how much your little whore wants to be reamed out and filled with your come, please, Aulus, please give it to me, I need it so much…"
That's as much as I can take. His words drag me right over the edge, and I hold him down by the shoulders as I start to come, hammering into him hard and fast like I really am trying to split him in two. He takes every thrust, every slam of my hips against his ass, with ease even as he's crying out and yelping like an overwhelmed youth. He takes everything I can give him, perfectly and completely, until I'm sagging forward against him, weak-limbed and breathing hard against his throat.
"It's fortunate I'm not really such a fragile young thing," he says, pausing to catch his breath. He winds his arms around my back and pulls me closer, and now I can feel the usual strength in those smooth arms. "Otherwise you'd be crushing the mighty Caesar to pieces right now."