Decadent Emperor Claims His Femboy Slaves

The barge lay like a gilded jewel on the black glass of the private lake, lanterns breathing gold along its rails while the moon poured silver over silk awnings and carved cedar. Water slapped the hull in a slow, private rhythm. No other craft moved. No voices carried from the far shore. The night belonged to the three of them.

Emperor Cassian reclined on a low couch piled with crimson cushions, one arm hooked behind his head, the other loose across his thigh. He was twenty-eight, broad through the chest and heavy in the way a man gets when he has never had to hurry for anything he wanted. A dark robe hung open to his navel. Lamplight caught on the oiled plane of his stomach and on the thick line of his cock, already half-risen under the silk, patient and obvious. He watched the deck the way he watched everything that was his: with appetite, and with the calm of a man who had already been told yes.

Cody came first, barefoot on the warm planks, twenty years old and glowing from the bath oils the attendants had worked into his skin before they withdrew and left the barge empty. He had chosen this life at eighteen, after a season of asking, of proving he wanted the pampered cage more than any freer road, and two years of eager service had only sharpened the want. His body was lithe, narrow-waisted, ass round and high, chest smooth as poured cream. A sheer ivory tunic clung to him, so thin the dusk-rose of his nipples showed through, so short the lower curve of his ass flashed when he walked. His cock, smaller and pretty, pressed a soft shape against the silk. Kohl lined his eyes. His mouth was wet from biting it.

Grant followed a step behind, also twenty, also long since devoted to this. He was a little taller, hips just as lush, throat long, lashes ridiculous. His tunic was pale gold and just as sheer, hem whispering against the tops of his thighs. He had asked Cassian, on his knees and smiling, to be kept. He had repeated the ask every season since, voice steady, eyes bright, never once looking away when the terms were spoken aloud. Tonight he had said it again before they cast off: he wanted to be used, he wanted Cody used beside him, he wanted the emperor’s cock and the emperor’s hands and nothing held back.

They stopped where the moonlight cut the deck in a clean white bar and looked at their master.

Cassian’s mouth curved. “Come here.”

They came. Cody sank to one knee at the couch and pressed his cheek to Cassian’s thigh, breathing him in, the salt and oil and heat of him. Grant knelt on the other side and kissed the inside of the emperor’s wrist, slow, open-mouthed, the way he had been taught and the way he liked.

“You look edible,” Cassian said.

“We dressed for you,” Cody murmured. His voice had gone soft already. “Tell us what you want. We’ll do it. We want to.”

Grant’s fingers traced the hem of his own tunic, lifting it an inch so the emperor could see the smooth skin underneath. “We’ve been aching since you sent for us. I told Cody in the bath. I said if you didn’t touch us soon I was going to beg on the deck in front of the moon.”

“You may beg,” Cassian said. “I like the sound.”

Cody laughed, breathless, and turned his face so his lips brushed the heavy shape under Cassian’s robe. Not quite a kiss. A promise. “Then look at us first. Let us show you how badly.”

The emperor’s hand settled in Cody’s hair, not pulling, just claiming. “Dance for me. Both of you. Out there where I can see every inch. Make it filthy. If you want my hands after, earn them.”

They rose at once. No hesitation. Grant caught Cody’s wrist and drew him into the moonlight, and the silk went luminous on their bodies, nipples dark shadows, the sweet small mounds of their cocks outlined, the clefts of their asses hinted at every turn. Music was only the water and their breath. They didn’t need more.

Cody started it. He rolled his hips in a slow circle, tunic clinging, then let Grant step in behind him so their bodies met. Grant’s hands found Cody’s waist. Cody reached back and hooked his fingers behind Grant’s neck, arching, offering the line of his throat to the moon and his ass to his friend’s groin. They had done this a hundred times for Cassian and still the first contact sparked. Grant’s cock thickened against Cody’s lower back. Cody felt it and pushed into it, a little helpless sound leaving him.

“Like that,” Cassian said. His own cock had lifted fully now, thick and dark against his stomach, the head already wet. He didn’t touch it. He watched.

They turned. Grant faced the emperor and Cody came around to his front, and they pressed chest to chest, tunic to tunic, the thin silk doing nothing to hide how hard they were getting. Cody’s hands slid down Grant’s sides, over the flare of his hips, and lower, palms cupping the bare upper thighs, thumbs stroking the soft inner skin just short of his cock. Grant shivered and did the same to Cody, fingers spreading, squeezing, pulling him in until their erections nudged through silk.

“He can see everything,” Grant whispered against Cody’s mouth.

“Good,” Cody whispered back. “I want him crazy.”

They kissed, not shy, tongues sliding, and the kiss broke into a shared gasp when Grant’s thigh pushed between Cody’s. Cody rode it for three slow beats, tunic riding up, the round naked underside of his ass catching lamplight. Then they separated just enough to dance again, circling, hips snapping, hands never idle. Grant spun Cody out and pulled him back so Cody’s back hit his chest. One of Grant’s hands splayed low on Cody’s belly. The other slipped under the hem and stroked the crease where ass met thigh, not quite between, teasing them both and teasing the man on the couch.

Cassian’s eyes had gone black. “Closer to each other. I want to see you desperate.”

They obeyed. Cody turned in Grant’s arms and they ground together in full view, cocks trapped between their stomachs, silk darkening where they leaked. Cody’s cheeks were flushed. Grant’s mouth hung open. They locked eyes with the emperor over each other’s shoulders and did not look away.

“Please,” Cody said, voice cracking pretty. “Please touch us. We’ve been good. We’ve been yours. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me while he watches, while he helps, I don’t care, I just need you in me.”

Grant’s hand tightened on Cody’s ass, spreading him a little, showing the emperor the tight pink furl between those smooth cheeks. “Me too. After. Or during. However you want us. We talked about it. We both said yes to all of it. Fill us. Use our mouths. Sit on our faces. We’ll take whatever you give and ask for more.”

Cassian stood. The robe slid off his shoulders and pooled at his feet. Naked, he was all heavy muscle and that thick, veined cock, balls full and hanging, the kind of body that made both young men whimper just looking. He crossed the deck in four strides. The night air touched sweat already beading on his chest.

“Over the rail,” he told Cody. “Hands on the gilt. Ass out. Ask me again so I hear it clear.”

Cody went. He bent over the gilded railing, the metal cool under his palms, the lake black and endless below, and pushed his ass back until the tunic rode to his waist. His hole clenched and fluttered in the lantern light, already slick; he had opened himself in the bath with oil and two fingers, thinking of this exact moment, moaning Cody’s name into the steam while Grant laughed and did the same beside him. Twenty, eager, prepared, and shaking with how much he wanted it.

“Fuck me,” Cody said, loud enough for the water to hear. “Please, Cassian. I want your cock in my ass. Hard. I want to feel you tomorrow. I consent. I’m asking. Do it.”

Cassian spat into his palm, stroked himself once, and set the broad head against that shiny little hole. He pushed. Cody’s rim stretched, resisted, then yielded with a broken cry as the head popped inside. Heat clamped down around him, velvet and desperate. He didn’t rush the first inches. He fed Cody his cock in a slow, cruel glide until his hips met the plush of that ass and Cody was stuffed full, toes curling on the deck, mouth open on a silent oh.

“Gods,” Cody gasped. “You’re so thick. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” Cassian drew back until the head tugged at the rim and slammed home. The railing chimed. Cody wailed, high and sweet, and shoved back to meet the next stroke. Standing, bent, taken in a raw doggy rhythm, he was everything the emperor had been starving for all evening: tight, loud, grateful, pushing onto every thrust like he could swallow the whole length into his guts if he tried hard enough.

“Grant,” Cassian said, not slowing. “On your knees. Between us. Mouth on our balls. Both of us. You said you wanted to help.”

Grant dropped so fast his knees kissed the planks. He crawled in under the joined bodies, tunic rucked, his own cock leaking onto his thigh, and looked up at the place where Cassian’s cock vanished into Cody’s stretched hole. The sight made his mouth water. He leaned in and licked, broad and wet, over Cassian’s heavy balls, then turned his head and sucked one of Cody’s smaller balls into his mouth, gentle and hungry, tongue rolling.

Cody jerked. “Oh—Grant—yes, suck them, fuck, that’s—”

Cassian groaned and fucked harder. Each thrust rocked Cody forward and swung his balls against Grant’s lips. Grant took the assignment like a vow. He mouthed Cassian’s sack, sucking one ball and then the other, nose buried in the heat, then slid sideways to nurse Cody’s, switching, drooling, one hand braced on Cassian’s thigh and the other spreading Cody’s cheek so he could watch the cock plow that shiny rim. Spit ran down his chin. He moaned around the mouthfuls, the vibration traveling straight into both men.

“Good boy,” Cassian gritted. “Look at you, greedy for both. Cody, you hear him? He’s worshipping what I’m fucking you with.”

“I feel him,” Cody sobbed. “I feel everything. Harder. Please, master, harder, I can take it, I want it mean.”

Cassian gave it to him. He gripped Cody’s hips and pounded, skin slapping skin, the gilded rail ringing a bright note with every impact. Cody’s smaller cock bounced untouched, dripping a clear string onto Grant’s hair. Grant didn’t care. He lapped at both sets of balls, chased them when the thrusts knocked them aside, and when Cassian’s sack drew up tight he sucked both heavy balls into his mouth at once as far as he could and hummed.

The emperor’s rhythm broke. “Cody. I’m going to come in you. Tell me.”

“Yes,” Cody cried. “Come in my ass. Fill me. I want it. I want your cum leaking out of me. Please, please—”

Cassian buried himself to the root and came with a rough shout, pulsing deep, thick spurts flooding Cody’s guts. Cody clenched around every throb, milking him, his own orgasm ripping through him a second later, untouched, painting the deck and Grant’s cheek in hot little stripes while he shook and thanked his master in a wrecked chant. Grant swallowed around Cassian’s balls through the last pulses, then pulled off with a wet gasp and kissed the base of the softening cock where it still plugged Cody full.

They stayed like that a moment, breathing hard, the lake ticking against the hull. Cassian eased out. Cum welled at Cody’s reddened rim and slid down his taint in a glossy line. Grant caught it on his tongue without being asked, licked Cody clean with slow devotion, and looked up at the emperor with shining eyes.

“My turn,” he said. “If you still want me. I’m aching. I want to ride you. I want you hard again inside me until you fill me too.”

Cassian’s cock, glistening, gave a heavy twitch. At twenty-eight he had the stamina of a man who fucked for pleasure and not for haste, and the sight of his cum on Grant’s mouth finished the job of bringing him back. “Couch. Now. Both of you.”

They moved to the silk couch under the awning. Cassian sat, thighs spread, cock rising thick and flushed again, slick with oil and his own spend. Grant straddled him facing away, reverse, and reached back to line that fat head up with his hole. He had oiled himself too. He sank down in one long, trembling slide, mouth falling open, hands braced on Cassian’s knees.

“Oh, fuck,” Grant moaned. “You’re still so big. I can feel how wet you are from him. That’s—that’s his cum on your cock, inside me—”

“Ride,” Cassian ordered, palms spreading Grant’s ass, watching himself disappear. “Bounce. Show me how a good little pleasure slave uses his emperor’s cock.”

Grant rode. He lifted until only the head remained and dropped, ass slapping Cassian’s lap, the sheer gold tunic bunched at his waist, his smaller cock bobbing and smearing precum on his stomach. The reverse angle let Cassian see everything: the stretch, the shine, the way Grant’s rim clung and fluttered on every upstroke. Grant found a desperate pace, thighs burning, chasing the thick pressure against the sweet spot inside him, whimpering each time he bottomed out.

“Cody,” Cassian said, voice rough with pleasure. “Up here. Straddle my face. I want that pretty cock in my mouth while he rides me.”

Cody climbed on, facing Grant, knees planted in the cushions on either side of the emperor’s head. His cock, still sensitive, half-hard and shiny, hovered over Cassian’s mouth. “You sure? It’s smaller. You don’t have to—”

“I want it,” Cassian said, and pulled him down.

His mouth closed over Cody’s cock and Cody cried out, hips jerking. Cassian sucked him with the same greed he fucked with, tongue swirling the head, lips tight, one hand gripping Cody’s ass to hold him in place for worship. Cody’s flavor was salt and skin and the faint sweetness of the oils. Cassian took him to the root easily, the smaller length perfect for his throat, and groaned around it when Grant slammed down particularly hard.

The three of them locked together. Grant bounced, vocal and slick, ass devouring the emperor’s cock. Cody rocked helplessly on Cassian’s face, hands on Grant’s shoulders for balance, their foreheads nearly touching, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths between kisses. Sweat shone on all three bodies. The couch creaked. The barge drifted, unnoticed, under a sky thick with stars.

“I’m close again,” Grant gasped. “You’re so deep like this. Cody, he’s sucking you so well, I can hear it—fuck, master, don’t stop, I’m going to come on your cock, please come in me, I want to be full like he is, I want it dripping out while I thank you—”

Cassian growled around Cody’s cock and thrust up to meet Grant’s bounce, driving in to the hilt. His balls drew tight. He pulled off Cody just long enough to snarl, “Come for me, both of you. Now.”

Grant broke first. His ass clamped down in rhythmic spasms and he came in messy pulses across Cassian’s stomach and his own fist, crying out the emperor’s name, riding through it, milking the cock inside him. The squeeze dragged Cassian over. He slammed up and flooded Grant’s hole, thick and hot, pulse after pulse, filling him until cum squelched around the seal of their bodies. Cody, watching Grant’s face wreck itself, felt Cassian’s mouth suck him hard again and came with a shattered sob, spilling over the emperor’s tongue. Cassian swallowed every drop, licking him clean, holding him down until the aftershocks faded.

They stayed joined while the trembling eased. Grant slumped back against Cassian’s chest, impaled and overflowing, cum leaking around the softening cock to stripe the emperor’s balls. Cody slid off his face and curled against his side, kissing the corner of his mouth, tasting himself there, smiling like a man who had gotten exactly what he begged for.

Cassian pulled both of them down with him onto the pile of cushions when his cock finally slipped free of Grant. More cum spilled, warm and obscene, over Grant’s thighs. He didn’t wipe it away. He gathered his two spent, dripping pleasure slaves against his chest, one on each side, and kissed them possessively: Cody’s swollen mouth, then Grant’s, then Cody again, slow and deep, tasting sweat and sex and the night.

“Thank you,” Cody murmured into his neck, already boneless, fingers tracing idle shapes on the emperor’s stomach. “Thank you for using me. I loved it. I want it again whenever you want.”

“Me too,” Grant said, voice hoarse and happy. He pressed a kiss to Cassian’s pectoral and let his hand wander lower, finding the emperor’s spent cock, stroking it with lazy affection. Not demanding. Anticipating. “We’re yours. We chose this. We’ll be ready when you are. Fill us as many times as you like.”

Cody’s hand joined Grant’s, the two of them petting him together, gentle, slick with the mess they’d made, their sheer tunics ruined and rucked, their bodies warm and marked and utterly willing against his. Cassian’s arms tightened around them. The barge drifted. Lanterns swayed. The lake made its small sounds against the hull.

No one spoke.

The moon kept its silver on the water, and the three of them lay quiet under it, breathing, touching, full, and still.