I was so curious about #EuphOff, a new smut-writing meme that dares us to play with euphemism and metaphors, that I decided to try my hand at erotica for the first time!
I've been inspired by the use of metaphor in the classical literature I studied at university and I had fun translating that old, ancient style of writing into smutty things: with which metaphor would an ancient Roman describe the female orgasm, or a blowjob? It definitely has been an experiment full of laughter for me!
Valeria Messalina is a real historical character, wife of the Roman emperor Claudius that, according to the Latin writer Juvenalis, by night used to go working in a brothel under the "stage name" of Lycisca. Read more about her (unfortunately it's quite a mysoginistic read) in the full Satire VI by Juvenalis, I found a good English translation here. Hope you enjoy my first erotic story ever!
Photo concessed with a CC0 Common Creative License.
The flickering light of the lanterns and their black smoke makes the old brothel look creepy.
Other prostitutes lay on their little, cold carpets on the floor, only covered by sheer, see-through robes.
But, for as sad as it may look, this is the only place where Lycisca can be herself. Here is the only place where she can dismiss that pure, virginal aura that is required to the wife of the Roman emperor, unleash her deepest desires, and finally rule her own body, free from patriarchy.
Lycisca closes the door behind her: the first customers have been accepted and are entering her personal room. Oh good, they are two. With the two biggest and hardest swords she has ever seen during her sex working career.
The first one, very attractive, only wears a gold necklace that dances over his muscles to every movement, till to the strongest muscle of all that shows its pride under his fit belly. Without thinking about it twice Lycisca falls on her knees, the hand of the man holding her shiny black hair while she is choked by his huge demon reaching the lowest part of her throat, in a whirlwind of sensations.
The other guy, very attractive too and adorned by precious jewels, grasps one of her swollen nipples in his mouth. Oh Jupiter, what a sensation, hanging between pain and pleasure.
Now the two god-like knights are pushing her on the dirty floor while spreading her empress legs on the carpet covered in ash: one of them fills her rosebud already wet from the passion's dew, while the other one keeps thrusting into her delicate mouth, between her rosy lips leaked of love fluids.
Outside of this dark brothel she is the empress of Rome: but now, her body is surrending completely to the will of her two merciless masters, who keep on thrusting inside her, harder and faster.
Until finally a forgiving Venus decides to listen to the endless moans of Lycisca, and to bring her to the point of no return: a body-shattering orgasm finally makes her scream and squirm like a wounded gazelle.
Soon, the two prince-like guys too come to the point of squirting their passion all over Lycisca's face: before she has the time to get up from her kneeling position they are gone, closing the door on her still drippling from all that white fluid, nectar of the Gods. Maybe she will never see them again, or maybe they will become returning customers bringing that heavenly experience to always new levels.
