From the Vault of Goddess Karen
Let’s take a trip to literotica.com, where the Goddess has published 2 blasts from the past. I wrote these while in a heated S&M relationship that inspired me to type, type, type.
Unfortunately, I found some tart has stolen the handle “Goddess Karen,” so mine are published under “Mistress Karen.” What follows are passages from my first story, “The Queen’s Marble Cock.” Consider them teasers, and hopefully you’ll be inspired to read on…
The Queen’s Marble Cock
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.
**Later in the story, once she’s had the chance to dwell on her slave’s fate…**
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.
Did I get you hot, sweeties? Read more at this link: The Queen’s Marble Cock