Then, suddenly, I gasp. Effortlessly – as if I weigh nothing – he helps me over his lap, throwing me across those tree-trunk legs of his. I can’t believe what I’m doing, by letting him! But it’s as if this is actually happening to somebody else – as though my body is just a vessel for my spirit, and I can’t control its actions or reactions any longer.
Cyrus is clad in his toga. I can feel the thick, luxurious material against my bare legs. I realize that this hand-woven cotton is all that separates his gorgeous, perfect body from me. My cheeks burn a deeper, hotter shade of red from the building embarrassment – the delicious humiliation of being thrown across his lap.
As I lay there, legs dangling from one end and my head hanging off the other, my heart pounds like it’s going to burst right out of my chest.
I’d never have thought something like this could turn me on.
But there’s something about the humiliating helplessness – paired with the knowledge that whatever need I’m feeling, Cyrus is clearly feeling even more hungry for it. He’s full of lust – I can tell.
As for me? Gods – I have no idea anymore. It’s as if Pandora’s box has been opened, and the whirling maelstrom of my own hidden desires have burst forth. I’ve never before spent time wondering about my own wants and needs.
However, something tells me that Cyrus knows exactly what I’ve always wanted, even if I didn’t know it myself. His breath quickens until he’s panting with his need for me. His lust turns me on even more. I feel desired and wanted for the first time in my life, and you might as well have just injected the most powerful, addictive, euphoric drug into my system.
Cyrus pulls me closer across his lap. I gasp as I suddenly feel the huge firmness of his steel-hard cock pressed against me, separated only by the fabric of his toga. He’s rock-fucking-hard, like a steel girder, so completely aroused that I know he must be on the verge of losing control to the infamous Aurelian mating frenzy.
Do I want him to lose control, though? Do I want he and his triad to lose all semblance of rationality? Taking me hard and fast like beasts?
Some dark part of me aches for exactly that. My desire is swelling up inside of me, and I know that Cyrus is fighting against the same desperate, yearning need. I look up, first at Cyrus’s transfixed face, and then to his two battle-brothers, sitting to his left.
My mouth drops as I see the way Gallus and Varian are staring at me. They are wearing the same toga outfits as Cyrus, and the flowing fabric is similarly tented upwards – the huge shafts of their engorged cocks rising like tree trunks from between their thighs. Only the material of their toga hides the sight of them; and that loose cloth does nothing to hide the shape of them.
It’s deliciously obscene! They’re impossibly big, those barely-hidden shafts, and I whimper as I imagine what these lust-crazed Aurelians could do to me with those huge things.
My poor body would never be the same again.
Cyrus runs his massive palm up the back of my thigh. My body reacts to his touch, trembling as heat floods between my legs.
I won’t have sex with him, I promise myself. I won’t have sex with him.
I repeat the mantra over and over in my mind, but it’s contrary to everything my body is aching for. I’m desperately trying to convince myself that it’s true – that I don’t want to surrender to the urges of these three horny men. Gods, the consequences weigh so heavy on me. If I let Cyrus fuck me, this magical spell ends. The moment he sinks his impossibly-huge shaft into my too-small, virginal pussy, I know he’ll instantly confirm that I’m not his fabled Fated Mate, and I’ll instantly become just another whore in his harem.
But have I come too far now? My nipples are hard, painful buds that need to be pinched and pulled. I’m soaking wet, flooding those silky panties, and I couldn’t bear the humiliation if Cyrus’s fingers traced their way up my thighs and slithered between my legs – because he’d instantly discover the wet, slick evidence of my shameful lust. I’ve never been so aroused in all my life.
Cyrus’s hand gentle moves higher and higher, up the back of my legs, getting closer and closer to my ass. He finally pulls up the hem of my skirt in a sharp, quick motion, exposing my silk undergarments to him, and his two battle-brothers.
“You wore the panties I chose. Good girl.”
I shudder at the approval in Cyrus’s words, and the heat in his voice intense. I’ve never been desired in this way before. I feel like I’m air to a drowning man, and every moment Cyrus isn’t inside me is killing him; like he’s being held underwater. It sounds so filthy for him to call me his ‘good girl’, but I feel a surge of pride at those sexy, degrading words.
I bite my lip. This is really happening. I’m… I’m about to get spanked. I could never have imagined this future for myself; and now I couldn’t imagine anything else.
I whimper as the delicious heat and pressure of Cyrus’s hand leaves the firmness of my panties-clad ass. I bite my lip in anticipation of its return there. As I lay across Cyrus’s lap, feeling his cock prodding relentlessly against my stomach, I force my eyes downward.
Whatever humiliation Cyrus delivers, I don’t think I could bear the shame of making eye contact with Gallus and Varian when I
