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Night had fallen over the desert. Hundreds of stars winked in the inky black sky as they awoke one by one. In the highest tower of the Nile Palace, Artemus sat bound on a small stool in the Queen’s chamber.
A breeze gently floated into the room, moving the long silk curtains that hung from the arches of the balcony behind him in silent flutters. Everything in Cleopatra’s quarters matched the elegance of the rest of the palace; marble carvings, golden trimmings, and decadent silk hangings. Her enormous bed lay made with gold silk sheets, cool, yet always comfortable no matter what the heat.
Even the stool Artemus was bound to was perfect, standing on four carved legs that tucked his bound ankles back so his legs spread. An elegant red cushion sat comfortably against his bare buttocks, ensuring that if needed, he could sit for hours, which he already had.
His ankles bound to the legs, and his wrists behind him tethered to a small loop on the seat, he was unable to do anything but squirm. Another week had passed, another week of endless tease and denial. Another week of what seemed like endless numbers of beautiful woman licking, stroking and fondling his cock. Another week of the Queen’s touch, so close, yet so distant.
She lay like a lounger on her bed, naked save for a translucent robe of white silk trimmed with gold at the hem and sleeves. Her voluminous bust spilled from the open neckline, glorious and beautiful as ever. Around her neck lay a royal necklace of glittering diamonds that flickered and danced in the low erotic light of the wall torches. Her silver circlet seemed to writhe with a life of its own as the orange light hit it.
“Does it not excite you, Lord Artemus, to be in the personal quarters of your Goddess?” Cleopatra purred delicately, taking the large nipple of her right breast in her hand and gently kneading it.
Artemus moaned through his ball gag. The white liquor of aphrodisiac he was fed hours ago was in full bloom. His mighty cock stood stiff as it had the past two weeks, sitting rigidly on the cushion of his large balls. Restrained and forced to simply lay eyes on her was torture enough, but he knew the Queen had more in store.
The double doors that served as the portal to her quarters opened with a dull sound. Leather boots sounded powerfully over the patter of bare feet as two Egyptian guards towed three naked men in by chained collars. Artemus let his attention wander from the Queen’s magnificent form just enough to see them.
The three of them were of varying age, but the oldest of them seemed no more than his mid-twenties, years younger than Artemus himself. The youngest of the three shocked him; he seemed to be merely a boy of 15 or 16 years of age.
All three were handsome. The oldest had shoulder length brown hair and a chiseled athlete’s body. The second oldest was blond with sparkling blue eyes and a body not unlike the eldest. The youngest, the boy, was beautiful in his youth, and his cock matched the length of the others, which was impressive for his age.
The guards tugged the slaves to the foot of the bed, chains clinking lightly in the silence. They were ball gagged, but theirs had only the single strap behind their heads as opposed to the leather torment that harnessed Artemus’s. After detaching the chained leashes, the guards departed, sealing the doors behind them.
“It takes much to satisfy a Goddess,” remarked the Queen as she uncoiled herself from her lounge and moved to the slaves, bare feet pattering softly on the smooth marble floor. They stood with heads bowed, only looking up when she lifted their chins to peer into the eyes. “Such few men are worthy and capable of withstanding it.”
She selected the youngest one first. No command was issued from her, merely a caress of the boy’s cheek. Obediently, he left the line with the others and moved to the side of her bed. Cleopatra swayed after him, slowly undoing the golden tassel that held her robe closed at the waist, stopping before Artemus.
“You will watch, Lord Artemus,” she instructed, as she parted the garment, revealing her perfect, nude form. “You will watch, lest you wish to drown in the misery you are in for eternity.”
Cleopatra let the robe pool before his feet, then turned to the boy. Her jewelry and diamonds glittered wildly, as if her own body was supplying them energy. Together, they climbed to the bed, the boy lying without a word on his back, his long cock poised straight up like a stick.
Time seemed to slow as she straddled first his waist, wiggling her hips down, then took hold of his cock and slid it into her, taking it all the way in. With a breath of passion, Cleopatra arched her back, enormous bosom splayed like two moons, and began to rock her hips slowly.
Artemus’s own cock twitched and tingled as the Queen let out a throaty moan of ecstasy as she rode the boy. The boy remained semi-passive, not moaning loudly in what should have been divine pleasure, but his breathing increased as his face twisted into a heavenly expression. Artemus couldn’t help but feel a trickle of envy down his back. He was so close, witnessing a Goddess of pleasure satisfy herself. Who was this boy that he was so more experienced than himself, he who made hundreds of women scream in bed?
The Queen’s buttocks slapped gently against his thighs, rhythmically and as constant as a clock. He caught sight of an inch of the boys cock as it slid in and out, for the most part staying buried within her.
The riding seemed to last an eternity. Cleopatra would moan and gasp in satisfaction as her slave supplied his erection for her pleasure. Then, as if sensing something, her hips ceased the motion and she rose, the boys cock sliding out and glimmering with her juices.
The Queen swung herself off, and through another unseen command, the boy got off the bed, and the oldest slave climbed onto it. She lay back, lifting one leg which the boy obediently took hold of at the calf, straddling her other leg, then slid his cock into her.
This time, the slave controlled the pace, which was brisk and efficient in comparison to the passionate rock of the younger slave. Cleopatra stifled a gasp as his pelvis spanked her lower cheeks, her fingers once again finding a nipple and tweaking.
Artemus fidgeted in protest as his cock screamed for her attention. He wanted a chance to prove himself, to show that he could pleasure her better than a man younger than himself. She had even said he would be the one to satisfy her! Was this her form of final torment and punishment? The Queen ignored his insignificant sounds, more focused on the dashing man that was expertly satisfying her.
The gasps and moans turned to small cries. The length and girth of the slaves cock slid in and out endlessly. The crown of his head barely left before it was thrust deep within her again. His balls slapped the underside of her ass, the sound nearly as loud as his pelvis.
Once again, it suddenly ended, and the slave withdrew. The Queen, her panting almost feral, splayed herself across the bed as the third slave, the blond climbed the bed, prostrating himself on the silk like the first.
Cleopatra mounted him, then began to thrust him furiously inside of herself. Her hands found her clitoris and began to stroke furiously, her pants and cries now nothing short of screams of pleasure. The full, round orbs of her ass ground hard onto the slave’s thigh, slapping loudly as she threw herself upon him again and again.
Her back arched again. Her breasts heaved with her heavy breathing, then began to bounce, softly at first, then wildly as their momentum grew. The divine noises she made grew louder and louder, then it happened.
With a scream, she climaxed.
Artemus thought he felt the very air vibrate with her resounding cry that seemed to pierce his body. For a moment, she fell back, her body racked with shudders, glistening with sweat and light from the diamonds. Her shoulder-length black hair spread like a wavy dream across the silk.
The Queen recovered from her violent orgasm and composed herself, rising like a wave of flesh from the bed. The blond slave took his place at the side of her bed, joined by the other slaves. She slid off the sheets and sank to her knees on trembling legs, the cleavage of her bust hovering just below their cocks. Each of them took their members in their hands, stroking methodically.
“Release, now,” she commanded.
Almost simultaneously, they orgasmed, three separate jets of come splashing in torrents across her breasts. The three of them buckled and grunted and moaned, forcing every drop to squeeze out and mingle upon her heavenly flesh.
Their offerings given, the slaves knelt at the foot of the bed, heads bowed, waiting for the guards to collect them later. Cleopatra rose to her feet and slowly turned her attention to Artemus, deadly seduction still in her eyes despite her prolonged sex. Her pussy was wet as if splashed with water, her breasts milky and gleaming in the light.
“Do you see now, Lord Artemus?” was all she asked.
Artemus furiously nodded his head. Yes! He realized everything! She was the Goddess of Pleasure. Who was he to deny her anything? He needed the discipline to see it; he’d been blind with misconceptions that he was the one in control. In reality, his life was merely a stepping stone for hers.
The Queen dabbed her breasts clean of the semen with a cloth, then swayed before him and slowly straddled his lap. Her breasts pushed into his chest, their weight warm, comforting, and moist. She tipped her head, staring deep into his eyes, her flawless face mere inches from his own. He could feel the dampness between her legs on his cock as she ground deeper onto him.
Slowly, she traced a line of kisses across his gag, prompting a coo from him. Her electric gaze bore down on him. He didn’t, no, couldn’t, look away. “Breathe deeply…in…and out,” she whispered.
He didn’t realize he was quivering so. His breaths came out in shudders, but he matched the deep rise and fall of her own bosom. Her scent filled his nose, sweet and almost tangible to the taste. The shuddering disappeared, replaced by a sense of overwhelming desire.
“What are you holding onto?” she murmured after tracing another line of kisses. “What do you refuse to relinquish?”
Nothing. He needed nothing in this world but her. All that mattered was her.
“Let go,” she whispered. “Simply let go and release yourself to me...”
He could feel it. Everything was slowly changing about him. He seemed to care less and less about his own body. The only thing that stayed constant was his Goddess and the insatiable need to be in her presence…And of course the tension and frustration in his cock.
Artemus let go. He let everything go and let his will fall to hers. The everlasting beauty, the Goddess of the Nile was all that mattered now. Not Rome, not glory, not wealth, only her.
Her hand snaked down his chest, now beaded with sweat and cupped his balls, still heavy from their size and load. Two weeks of come trapped, begging to be released from the nozzle that was his cock. He melted as her warm hand softly juggled them, his body almost sagging on the spot.
“Are you ready to give your offering to your Goddess?”
It was all hers, every drop and every drop he would ever create. He would give it gladly, spending it whenever she desired, for whatever reason. Artemus nodded, eyes blurring from tears of relief, now certain that she would release him. Gone was the cruel woman who punished with pleasure. It was a necessary punishment for his wicked thoughts of trying to control her and cause her harm. He knew that it was foolish, and that by her grace if she was willing to bring him into her.
The Queen’s hand encircled his cock, and she slid off his lap, sinking to her knees before him, and began to stroke lightly. Artemus moaned in pleasure as her talented hands played with his shaft. Her milk boiled in his belly, spreading its excitement to every inch of his body.
“Release your offering, slave, and release your ties to the world you knew.”
His orgasm built like a wave in the ocean, gathering speed and strength and beginning to rise. The last thing he saw as his eyes rolled back into his head were the Queen’s breasts, the head of his puckered cock an inch above one.
Artemus screamed into his gag as the pressure built to its maximum, then released. Two weeks of held agony and frustration burst forth in a milky white rage onto the Queen’s breast. His cock flexed once, finishing the first jet, then flexed again, shooting an equally frothy burst onto her mound. It released a third time with a blinding wave of pleasure that sapped every ounce of strength from his body.
The shimmering mass of semen that left his cock covered her entire right breast in a white blanket. His offering to his Goddess…a token of his submission and obedience. He was now hers.
Artemus thought he could weep as she swooped down on him, kissing his gagged lips, thinking that now he was happier than ever before.
The End
Author’s note: I hope you enjoyed the story! Once again, I’m open to any and all suggestions. Leave them in a review or email them to me, and I’ll see if I can put them in my next Cleopatra story.
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