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When in Rome

For several moments, there was nothing in Miley's world but a dog fucking her cock and her own increasingly aroused body. Juices flowed freely from her sex, coating the incoming canine member, making the juncture slick. The thrusting had a wet, slopping sound that further indicated that. It only increased as the dog's flesh slapped against Miley's exposed form. She could feel him, so far inside, so deep. Something huge pressed against the base of her sex, and Miley's ignorance came to the forefront then: the girl hadn't the foggiest idea of a dog's knot or its function.

Talk talk talk. "I don't want to stooooop," she cried out, shuddering again. Her head jerked, hair flipping back to slap against her exposed back. "It feels so fucking hot. So tight. I feel so tight. He's bulging against me,' she looked into the camera, her blue eyes blazing with lust. She'd found her voice again. "Feels so good. Oh, yes, yes, yes, fucking yes!"

She shuddered and jerked back again, hair once more slapping against exposed flesh. More pumps were occurring behind her, and she could feel that thick thing pressing against the entrance of her sex. Then, an even stronger push, and that round thing became apparent. Something large had pressed inside the girl, locking her and the dog into place. The moment it sank inside, Miley screamed. The scream would shatter eardrums and could only come from someone taught to project. For her sex had been parted wider than ever, and stretched tight along the doggie bulge inside. Juices flowed freely as the girl jerked and writhed more. An orgasm shot through her, making her eyes roll back in her head, drool starting to leak from her mouth.

He cupped her, thumbed her, and her lips closed about the finger, sucking. "So good, so fucking good," she moaned, before trembling and drooling again, her hips rocking back. Those eyes rolled once more, and she felt her vision swim. This was almost too good, certainly far, far too wild for her. Yet she was loving it, loving every inch of the doggie cock sunk deep within her aching sex.
 
The young woman's scream took him by surprise, causing Edward, and thus the shot of Ms.Cyrus' first porn video, to go completely off-balance. He fell backward, onto his rear, hand clutching at an ear and eyes wincing while the camera ended up pointing over at a wall. When he recovered two good seconds later the dirty blonde opened his eyes to see the brunette with her eyes in a complete lull and her mouth open and drooling. "My god, you little fucking siren," he snickered. "Better be careful you don't shatter the lens," he joked. "We don't want to miss the money shot, now do we? A lovely doggie creampie right inside Miley's vagina~ Who knows, maybe you two'll have puppies," continuing the tease.

Benny let out a brief couple of whimpers when the girl shuddered and tightened around him. He lowered his head and turned his ears when Miley screeched out, the sound paining him enough to stop pumping for a moment. Once it had passed, though, so had her reprieve; no sooner would Miley's orgasm have washed over her than the knotted cock begin its pumping again, now urged deep by her orgasmic juice, as if she hadn't already been wet enough.

"Keep talking baby. Talk to the camera. Talk to me. I really love that drawl. Have I told you that yet? Mm... Tell you what, why don't we go ahead and get you all the way naked? I think it's well past time for that." Out of the corner of the camera's shot Edward's hand came in to Miley's face. His right forefinger traced below her lower lip, gathering up a little bit of the starlet's drool that he then brought back to his own mouth, sucking the finger clean and with a smile. "Just think, most actresses charge millions of dollars to show their tits on camera. How's about you be a regular ol' Southern skank an' do it fer free," he teased, doing a mock of the accent.
 
The words sounded dim, far away, not part of Miley's reality. Yet she still registered them, if just barely. Puppies, doggie creampie, yes, that was going to happen. She was going to get the role of a lifetime, and that would happen. A throaty yes, nearly as loud as the scream, erupted from the crazed girl's throat then, as wild, frenzied blue eyes sought out a camera.

More pumping, deeper than before. She could swear she felt the canine cock hitting into her womb, disturbing her internal organs. Indeed, the girl's sheath had shifted for the cock, tightening just around it while giving room. He'd thrust forward, the sex would part and allow room, even the cervix seemed willing to part if necessary. Then he'd withdraw, and the sex would tighten around him.

"Mm, yeah, fuck!" yelled Miley. "I'm fucking a fucking dog. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Awwww, it feels so goooooood. So wild. Mm, right there, right there boy. Fuck your little bitch in her tight little pussy. Yeah, slide it on in there. So deep, so uggghhhh," another tremble, another rolling of the eyes. The girl even sank down, her rear thrusting further, almost pressing tight against the dog. A warmth had settled in, bringing its intense arousal and fanning already existing flames within the writhing teenager. "So fucking good. Fuck-- you want to see my tits?" She reached up, fumbling with the bra. In her frenzy, she ripped it, baring the pleasantly perky chest underneath. Two twin nipples of dark, rosy pink were capped almost painfully upon the chest.

"Fuck, I'm, I'm I'm cumming agaaaaiN!" the starlet cried out, her body shaking and jerking, bowing back. More moisture saturated the cock inside her, and the sex again squeezed and rippled, more than welcoming for its doggie invader.
 
Every foulmouthed moment was captured on film. Every twitch of her face. Every unladylike groan. What Disney had spent years building with the utmost care, she and her new director sent that house of cards lustfully crashing down in only a few minutes' time. Edward grinned like a son of a bitch behind the small, handheld cam, making sure to keep the modern day princess' face in the center of the shot while filming everything around it. He captured how her ass rose up in the air like a wanton slut to receive her lover's dick. He captured how it was a dog that mounted her, hovering over her form the entire time, making sure there was no room for the viewer's doubt. He captured the bra that she unclasped and slipped down her arms, now fully naked in the lavish office, and he brought the shot down low to capture her face still, the tuft of brunette hair that whipped and fell about, but also now the pair of perky tits Princess Miley was sowing off to the world for the first time.

Who set who off was something Miley would only know, if she had a clear enough head to even make sense of the moment, but the facts were the same regardless -- Miley was orgasming, as was her canine lover Benny. The veiny, knotted cock quickly shot forth and with no real warning, the dog not able to last long inside the teenager's sweet cunt. Hard, creamy white spurts came streaming through her inner walls, crashing against her cervix from how deep he was. With the writhing of Miley's body from her own orgasm, the way her muscles convulsed around him only served to milk the doggy dick within her, greedily squeezing what drops it had left as those final bucks came. When it was all over the knot at the base of Benny's shaft had lessened, making it easy for him to slide out, removing himself from within. He dismounted, paws on the floor, taking only a step back and deciding to stand there, tail wagging calmly.

"Good boy Benny," Edward chuckled, raising the camera up over Miley's shoulder to get a shot of the top of her backend. "Are you all done fella? Such a good boy," Edward said in a light tone. "What about you hon? He did a pretty good job on you, didn't he?" He moved the camera back to her face. "Can you move? Go ahead and lay down. Spread wide. Can you be a brave girl and show me your pink? Show your creampie off proud?"
 
Something scalding hot, thick and ropey shot into Miley's quivering sex. She could feel the thick liquid pouring in, filling her up, seeming to jet even into her womb. Muttered words and praises left her lips, and she tried to smile at the creature over her shoulder. The dog's cumming seemed to last forever, as jet after jet entered her quaking sex. Miley could feel her own body milking him, drawing every last drop from his quivering member and depositing in her own quaking flesh. The girl moaned, loud, long and low.

Then he moved, departed her, and Miley nearly collapsed. Almost immediately, she felt some cum starting to leak from her abused sex. Little dribbles of white liquid, just mixed with girlish cum, began to show at the edges of those delicate petals, and a little more began to drizzle out of her. The girl shifted, laying down with legs spread, baring this abused sex to the camera and whomever watched on the other end.

A hand went up to scratch Benny, a muttered "good boy,' following. The breathless starlet looked up at the camera, swallowing and trying again to find the words that always seemed to come and go. "That was amazing," she managed, swallowing yet again. "Can you see it? My little pink's all filled with white doggie cum."

She reached down and parted the lips slightly, and more juices leaked out. The girl trembled as she felt the liquid sloshing inside her, then took a deep breath. Smoky blue eyes met the director, and the voice that asked the next question seemed too husky for the delicate teenager. "Well, Director, did I get the part?"
 
- - - -​

"Aaand...action!"


The room bustled to life immediately. An open marble floor with columns lining either side, there was a platform raised up one step toward the back where two thrones sat, while the front was where the members of the court and any specially approved guests could mingle. There were senators. There were guards standing at the entrance. There was a lavish red velvet carpet down the center, tapestries draped everywhere, candles in elegant candelabras, colors, scents, sounds, and of course, most importantly, skin. What the set of a production of ancient Rome be without it? Servants milled about the room half in the nude, carrying platters with hunks of cooked, seasoned meat, various fruits and cheeses, or pitchers of wine. One or two were busy being pulled off to a corner, or behind a column, where one of the portly old senators groped the girl incessantly, but this was paid little mind by any of the others. Such was commonplace, and it was not within the girl's decision to refuse.

At the head of the room sat Emperor Ostorius Marcellus II, a man of his forties with short salt-and-pepper brown hair and a slim, but strong, toned form. Dressed only in a pair of sandals, the typical olive branches adorning his hair and a toga that dictated his position through its elegance, the white trimmed with gold around his shoulders and a purple sash falling diagonally along his chest, the emperor sat comfortably on his throne, his back straight and pressed to the powerful chair's own back that rose a good foot above his head. Beside him was his darling brunette princess, a daughter he had always treasured but who now was grown into a woman, and as such a growing object of her own father's desire. Her throne was slightly less imposing, more ladylike, slender and elegant. But right now he wasn't paying attention to her. Right now Emperor Marcellus' eyes were on the male servant who strode several steps into the room, raising his voice above the din to herald the morning's proceedings.

"Good morning to you, my lord," the man stated.

"And good morning to you Roscius. What do we have on the agenda for today?"

By now the volume of the room's various guests had fallen. They still spoke, the tone of the court often light, relaxed and jovial, rarely terribly serious, but it always fell to respectful whispers when the emperor tended to his station. "Sire, we have several people waiting to see you this morning. There is a pair of men who claim the season's rain has not been enough for farming, and has requested the treasury help in providing water, lest prices at market begin to rise. There is a group of renowned travelling entertainers wishing to offer their services to you at your leisure. There is a woman who was caught by our soldiers crossing the Eastern border. They believed her sketchy, and bound her and sent her here to the city. And finally there is a prominent merchant from our city whose daughter has come of age, and he wishes to present her as a potential guest of the court, providing your approval, boasting of her beauty."

"Very well," Marcellus paused then to think a brief moment. "Send in the captive. Let us begin the morning by addressing her, so we may finish it with something more pleasant." He watched Roscius nod, and with a bow turn to walk out of the room. In the interim Marcellus reached over to his daughter, leaning slightly as he took her by the hand, guiding the femininely soft skin to his lips. "My darling, you are as beautiful as ever."
 
Action. That meant a dropping of the real self, the reality of that hefty celebrity, and the picking up of the fantasy role created by writers and directors. In this particular show's case, that role seemed to be created out of some dark, twisted fantasy. For Emma Watson became Princess Caelia the second, daughter of the emperor. The English woman hardly thought that she made a very convincing Roman, with her light hair and her pale skin, but she also was more or less convinced that this show hardly cared about "convincing" the audience of anything, save for perhaps the decadence of the society they were showcasing.

Emma's agent had signed her up for this part, much against her reservations, and promised that Caelia was the untouchable virgin in the role. Indeed, this virginal princess was now lounging upon a throne next to her no doubt lecherous father. Compared to everyone present, Caelia was clothed modestly, even nearly touching an extreme. For her tunic of rich purple wrapped around her lithe body, obscuring most of the frame underneath. It covered those perky breasts and barely even showed flashes of those long, smooth legs. Several pieces of jewelry ordained her form, including hefty bracelets, a pair of anklets, earrings, a neck adornment that attached to the toga, and golden bits wrapping about exposed upper arms.

Though none would doubt the princess's beauty. For her young face looked sculpted by the gods, with those brown eyes drawn to attention by dark around them. Beautiful hair curled about her shoulders, framing her and seeming to enhance the overall image. Emma, being the consummate actress, embodied the character to such an extent that one could easily forget her other roles.

"I do hope you show this one mercy, father," she said, glancing over at her father as he raised her hand. She had a gentle smile, mostly of daughterly affection, but averted her eyes quickly. "Surely your dogs aren't tired of the last bit of meat you fed them, and I imagine the guards are equally sated."

The guards were moving, dragging in a beauty that was much less covered than the English one. Mila Kunis didn't have the career that Emma did, at least, not quite. The actress was more than willing to engage in things a little more sordid, if it resulted in her advancement, which explained her appearance there. The relatively minor part ensured that she avoided certain scenes (there was talk of bestiality and rumors that Miley Cyrus had even fucked a dog already), but that she still got enough screen time. So Mila became Ziva, fiery, sensual slave girl.

She cursed her captors in a language that none would know (likely created for the show), struggling against them. Her shoulder length hair, still pitch black, looked matted, falling about her sharp features. Anger sharpened her almond shaped eyes, and her already dark features looked more striking, given the exotic look of her. Makeup had been applied to make Ziva more of a vagabond look, though the tattered clothing would show that. A loose toga kept slipping, baring bits of tantalizing breast, mostly a side, and even once sliding enough to just show the soft curve of a ripe bottom. Mila's body was perfect for the slave girl, and they showed it to the fullest now. Already there was talk of "branding" the girl, with spots picked out along the flesh for it. For now, there were piercings in her nose and naval that were supposed to speak of her foreign nature, as if the language wasn't enough.

"Father, she seems quite wild," said Caelia. She shifted. "Though quite striking. I could perhaps take her on as a maidservant?"

Yes, the innocent, kindhearted princess wanting the fiery slave girl. Certainly these writers were inspired.
 
"Mercy is at its most meaningful when it is not expected, darling Caelia, just as when mercy is expected, one benefits from showing a firm hand. Thus is how the people develop an endearing respect for you," Another kiss to that lovely hand of his daughters. He remained like that a moment, head slightly down but eyes looking up to her face, a face that was facing forward, she paying the girl being brought in attention while he yet did not. Emperor Marcellus took this opportunity to seize his darling girl's index finger betwixt his lips, where he gave a light, slow suck, bringing it in until his lips pressed against one of the rings she wore, then just as gradually releasing her from his mouth, glistening saliva remaining in the wake. With a content smile he released her hand and turned in his seat, looking at the...thing presented before him.

"Roscius? Do not all guests of the palace pay their respect upon arrival?"

"That they do my lord," the man returned with a smirk. Immediately he placed a firm grip on Ziva's right shoulder and a just as firm sandaled kicked to the back of her right thigh, just above her knee, shoving her then down to a kneel. The actor connected with the blow, a strike that was indeed as real as it looked; the director had insisted to everyone beforehand that if they did away with stunt doubles it would allow for better, more dynamic shots, the same reason the actresses were actually going to have all the on-camera sex with their faces, crotches, their pink, literally everything showing -- it was something simply not done in entertainment yet, and as such should make a big difference in both the ratings and the award season. He believed so, anyway. And this entire thing was his baby.

"Splendid," the emperor exclaimed, faux joy overtaking him as the foreigner 'knelt' right before the step of the raised platform. "Now, being as she chooses to spend her breath on rubbish, I shall simply have to manage my best interpretation. ...Why, I do believe she is quite the primal one, and requests humbly to be tamed!" The emperor smiled to himself. He then thought over his daughter's words, considering them. "Maidservant? Hm...well, she is either to be a slave or a sacrifice, no doubt. She is too pretty for anything else. Considering her foreign nature she is surely a heathen, and if we were to make her tomorrow's sacrifice instead of that other girl that would then be two birds with one stone -- pleasing the gods, and tending to the rodent problem our borders seem to have. But a servant? Again, she is pretty enough, dear Caelia, but is she tame enough? I would not feel comfortable assigning her to someone so fair and important as yourself until obedience could be assured. ...Shall we beat her? A whip speaks in a language universal. Perhaps you would even care to yourself?"

The emperor snapped his fingers as a servant girl passed by behind the dark-haired wild child and the palace guard. She looked over to Emperor Marcellus quickly, and with his confirming nod she immediately ascended the platform to come to his side. There she bent her knees, lowering the platter to him that she held with glasses of wine that were already filled. With one hand snatching up the glass and the other giving the servant girl's bottom a light, approving pat, Marcellus took a long sip of the wine while he thought. The girl went around front and bent her knees beside the princess next, offering silently while she was there.

"I will make you a deal, dearest Caelia," he said after a full gulp, eyes on the fiery-eyed captive. "You have until tomorrow eve to make a slave out of this animal. Break her, and by the gods see to it that she is cleaned and presentable. Take her nowhere without guards present, as I do not trust the look in her eyes, and would not have harm befall my beloved princess. ...Tomorrow at dusk you shall present her to me while we feast, either ready to convince me that she is irrevocably yours, or you shall present her to me to insist she be added to the sacrificial pyre. Do you find this agreeable?"
 
Caelia sighed, tolerating her father's affections. There were times when she worried about him; for a father, he acted much, much too affectionate toward her. Still, she listened intently as he explained his reasoning, finding herself agreeing somewhat, even nodding reluctantly. Merciful and benevolent she may be; stupid, she was not. Putting herself in close contact with a wild woman would be a risk; it was simply a risk she was willing to take.

Ziva, meanwhile, hissed as she went down on her knees. Mila nearly regretted the "no stunt doubles" clause, but it was to make things more believable. She could hardly fault them for that. It definitely made her hiss of pain more real, and those eyes, still flashing with anger, looked up at the royal couple, promising pain the likes they'd never felt before. Naturally a guard lowered the unruly woman's head, and again, Ziva hissed her displeasure at such an act.

The hissing startled Caelia, as it did nearly every noble there. Her eyes went wide for a moment, but determination crept in soon after. Caelia was supposed to be the naive light of hope and grace in this desolate realm. "I'm certain I can make her much more tame, father. Guards, take her away and begin bathing her. I will attend more thoroughly to her training as soon as my father deems it appropriate."

The guards would not their agreement, before dragging away the still struggling Ziva. They would go offstage where Mila would allow herself to be cleaned slightly, possibly prepped for a later scene with Caelia. For now, the throne room was prepared, a servant coming forth to ask his royal emperor what he wished to attend to next.
 
The hiss, the aggressive body language, the wild eyes of this young piece did nothing to unnerve the emperor, but his displeasure in the thing was clear upon his face. A scowl was the response Ziva would get, and if it wasn't for his daughter beating him to be the first to speak, Ostorious Marcellus would likely have ordered a spear to be stuck up the trollop's backend till it jutted from her teeth -- no one disrespected him, not even an animal.

But she spoke, and with a glare at the girl he let it be. He was still surprised Caelia had expressed an interest in this foreigner; if this was what would help the young woman come out of her shell, then so be it. "If your taste indeed runs for the fairer sex, dearest, do see you develop better taste." He continued his firm look toward the girl as the guards dragged her off.

"My lord," Roscius began. He glanced only briefly to Ziva as she was dragged off kicking and yelling unintelligibly. Looking back to the emperor, he continued, "My apologies. She had not proved so difficult before just now. I'll see to it that Princess Caelia's wish be carried out," with a polite nod to her. "Would you care to adjourn after that display, or shall we continue?"

"Continue," he said, answering right away. "I would not let such a beast soil my day. But perhaps we should find something more pleasant to fill our time with. Tell me, you said something of another girl?"

"Yes, my emperor. There is a young lady to see you this morning -- lovely face, buxom bosom. She is the daughter of the head of the merchant's guild, Quinctilius Petra. He is here as well to present her."

"Very well," Marcellus replied with a wave of a hand, a smile on his face, "send them in."
 
Continue. Caelia settled back in, fighting against a grimace at her father's statement. It wouldn't surprise Emma to learn that her character had been made into a lesbian, and she was most certain that there would be scenes involving two women together; in fact, the setup for Caelia and Ziva practically begged for it. Still, Emma pushed that aside, focusing on what unfolded before Caelia's eyes.

Priscilla walked in, following her father's footsteps. The older merchant looked like one would expect an older merchant to look. Bits of gray were already sneaking into reddish hair, and his body had gone soft years ago. He bore a slight resemblance to the stunning redhead that followed in his wake, but it was clear that she took after her mother. Said redhead also happened to be garbed according to her class: the white toga wrapping about her, baring perhaps more skin than was historically accurate. Said skin was of a pale white color, just dotted with freckles here and there. Priscilla's makeup had been done well also: her lips almost bright, her blue eyes outlined with dark that made them pop.

As they approached, both fell before the Emperor. Quinctillus spoke, begging forgiveness of the emperor, insisting that he didn't mean to disturb his or his daughter's day. He had merely brought forth his daughter, as he knew the emperor liked to fill his court with beautiful women. Indeed, you only had to look around to realize the truth of that statement: over half the court consisted of nubile females, with a dashing of strapping young men, and about as many older men as there were females. Decadence in form.

"Please, great emperor," said Priscilla, fighting against a smile at the cheesy dialogue, "indulge in my whim and allow me to become one of your great, established court. I promise," she looked up and met his eyes, smirking, "not to disappoint."

Per the script, Priscilla let her eyes slide, glancing toward the head senator, whom she knew she would be paired with. She was to leave the "untouchable" emperor to his new concubine (and daughter, something that Lindsay knew about, even if Emma didn't). That left her the next one in power, and Priscilla was willing to seize what power she could.
 
"Ahh, Quinctilius!" The emperor actually rose from the throne where he'd sat, greeting the man while standing on both feet, which made for something of an uncommon moment in the throne room. Smiling, he'd started toward the man, but before he could reach the end of the platform of even say another word both the older merchant and his daughter were kneeling. Marcellus fell quiet; he knew well and enjoyed this ritual often, how people addressed him, but this time he allowed it simply to not unnerve the pair. When they were done he took a step or two more forward, descending the single-stepped platform himself. "Rise, friend, rise," plucking the man's arm with his free hand, lightly urging the movement. "How long has it been? Five months? Seven? You mustn't come greet me by standing on ceremony, dear friend," all said with a warm chuckle and a lighthearted smile. In truth, the men were more good acquaintances than friends, but their respective roles as Emperor of Rome and Head of the Merchant's Guild encouraged a pleasant rapport. Additionally, though Marcellus was tactful enough to not look at the girl directly yet, he was well aware of what was being offered him, and that certainly had an affect on the man's mood.

"My lord," Quinctilius said excitedly, rising to a stand. "Are you -- is this alright?"

"Of course it is," Marcellus explained, "but what isn't alright is this 'my lord' business," he leaning in a bit, a half-whisper, adding emphasis. "I have a sparse few close enough to me, behind all the acting, behind the politics, to be considered friends. These men, they may call me Ostorious. And a gift like such? I received a herald several days past, the messenger you sent announcing you would come. What sort of man would I be if you came, bearing your own daughter, and I not consider you one of these friends?" Smiling widely again, his voice rose back to its full, and an arm wrapped around the merchant's shoulder. "So it is Ostorious!"

"I- Y-yes, my lord! I mean, thank you," a hesitant pause, "Ostorious! You do me a great honor."

"No less than you do me," he said, removing his arm to give the salt-and-pepper redhead a friendly poke to the chest. "In fact, tomorrow you are an honored guest. I am having a feast tomorrow eve. You and your daughter are both invited to share the same table as I."

"My lord!" Quinctilius smiled brilliantly. Out of an uncertainly of what to do with his hands, the man simple held them together above the rounding of his stomach, rapping his fingers together gradually. "It would be a delight! And perhaps then we could speak some of opening up the northern border to allow caravans through again? You had said some time ago that when the recent war ended the guard on the border could be rela-"

"Yes, yes. Tomorrow! Tomorrow, my friend, lest we forget about the beautiful peach which you have brought me!"

"A-ah, yes, m-my apologies," he said with a chuckle. "Yes, yes. I never doubted that you do remember. But yes. This is Priscilla, my dear friend. I would give my darling daughter as a gift, to further the decadence of you and your court, if you would have her," all said with a slight, polite bow.

"Hello Priscilla," Marcellus said, plucking the girl's hand and raising it to his lips for a kiss. He smiled wide, staring right into her eyes the entire time. "I do remember you. Do you remember me? You were only nine at the time we last met. ...Do you share your father's wishes of joining me and my court? Or does your heart reside elsewhere?" At the mention of her heart, right on cue, the emperor's eyes dropped shamelessly to the cleavage she so generously bore. And, also on cue, he 'accidentally' tipped his wine glass forward, allowing a bit of the purple liquid to dash upon Priscilla's left shoulder, where it quickly began dripping down past her collar bone. Marcellus was quick to lean in close, tilting his head so that he might lick it up, shame having no place in Rome. Not when it meant foregoing pleasure. His tongue snaked past a set of wide, grinning lips in a slow trace up the developed young woman's pale, exposed skin, licking the drop of wine up the trail whence it came. Soon enough Lindsay would be paired with someone else, but for now, the man had to admit, this first scene was one he'd been looking forward to, giving himself and his acting abilities to it fully.

When he reached the top of her shoulder his tongue stopped, but the closeness didn't. Raising his lips then to Priscilla's left ear, Emperor Marcellus spoke to her in a close, warm-breathed whisper, his mouth right upon her, "If this is truly your wish to be here, to be a part of all this -- yours, not merely your father's -- then I would like for you to show me." Grinning, "But ah, how?... You know what comes to mind? You may not see much of your father from now on, if you stay here with me, little Priscilla. You'll be quite busy with...courtly affairs." His free hand reached behind her, caressing the pale white skin the toga left open on her upper back. "So why not give him a proper send off, mm? Have you ever taken him into your lips before, dear? ...I think a daughter that loves her father is a beautiful thing." The camera was on both their faces, hers from the front and his from the side. Standing, straightening himself, his voice picked back up to its normal volume, no longer a whisper, "Oh, and do feel free to pull down your upper half if you find things are getting a bit...hot. It looks like you have some lovely tits, Priscilla. Why deny the room of them?"

Leaving her on that question, Marcellus smiled wickedly and turned, heading back to his throne. He retook his seat, settling in for a show. "Beloved daughter, would you care to sit on Daddy's lap?" A sip of wine, and a wide, wicked smile.
 
Priscilla watched her father bobbing and scraping for the emperor, and she nearly smiled. Nearly, because she too wished to climb further in the social strata, and the only way to do so was by obeying the emperor's commands. If it meant that she had to perform tasks that most would find unseemly, well, that was to be expected. Priscilla knew she couldn't become a concubine, nor did she wish to, but she certainly hoped to advance herself enough to be a presence in the court. The girl's eyes darted to the princess, and she licked her lips. For Lindsay was thinking of a scene later on. Oh, if only Emma knew how many lesbian scenes they'd written in for the princess character. Lindsay knew she got at least one particularly kinky one, and there was a planned contest between her and another girl later as well.

Time enough for that later. Priscilla felt something wet touching her shoulder, and she turned to see the red splashed against her speckled white skin. Her breath was coming short as she stared at the emperor, admiring the man's sexuality. The cast was most certainly sensual; they'd done remarkably well at that. So while Lindsay might not be looking forward to seeing each of these people naked, she was certainly looking forward to performing with them, if not as much as a certain Southern belle.

"I remember you quite fondly, my emperor," she said, careful not to take her father's blessing of name. She was already trembling from the pleasures, and glad that she favored older men as well as girls. This applied to both character and actress, and both were smiling at her father. "We've never been quite that close, but I really should give my father a proper sendoff."

Without any more warning, she sauntered toward him, dropping gracefully to her knees. Her skilled hands extracted Quinctillus' cock from his toga, admiring the thing while her hands worked it. Priscilla moaned with the heady pleasure, mostly at knowing she was doing this before the truly lecherous emperor. It was what needed to be done to advance; she would do it. In fact, a hand was moving to undo the top of her toga, baring those pale breasts to the air.

Emma jerked as she heard the line, almost forgetting that she was actually in character. Caelia smiled at her father, putting on a pleasant face. Thankfully, both actress and character were supposed to be slightly uncomfortable, but still willing enough to take perch upon the lap, which she did so now. The toga was tugged to cover things, as Caelia remained the bastion of proper behavior in this den of debauchery.
 
Yet the bastion that she was had now perched herself upon the lap of the very lion who ruled this den. As she settled upon his knee Marcellus slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her more fully onto him with his arm. This brought Caelia not only right up against his chest and hips, but to the center of his lap, where she would find herself seated upon an arousal that was mild now, and consistently growing as he watched the scene continue over Caelia's shoulder. As the man's mind slipped in and out of character, he soon became quite hard beneath her, unable to escape the realization that this wasn't just a script, that he legitimately had Emma Watson perched upon his lap, and that they were going to sit like this while they watched Lindsay Lohan gobble a thick, fat cock. And if all that wasn't enough to make the moment a fun one, it wasn't like these togas restricted the rising of his member beneath her in any realistic way, nor did actor or actress get to wear any sort of modest undergarments beneath their loose clothing. Everything was about method acting with this director they had, not only on the set, but even back in their trailers; heck, he'd even heard rumor that in the actress' contracts they weren't allowed to wear so much as even a pair of panties that he hadn't personally approved!

"I want you to watch this, sweetheart," he whispered, using the same lustful tone he'd whispered to Priscilla with a moment ago. "I want you to see how a big girl acts when she really loves her father." His hand smoothed back and forth upon her belly, caressing over the fabric of Princess Caelia's toga. Watching the scene from over her shoulder, he grinned. Those tits, big, beautiful, and milky white... "She's beautiful, isn't she? Priscilla will make an excellent addition to the women in our court, don't you think?"

Meanwhile, the girl's father was in absolute shock. Here was his daughter, his darling, his little girl, who without so much as a warning had dropped to her knees and reached to her father's pants, snaking his flaccid shaft from within his trousers. "P-Priscilla!" He stammered her name, looking quickly down to the top of her head, then immediately over to the emperor. Then back to her. Then to the several dozen men and women all lounging about the open room, some engaged in their own flirtations and light touching, some watching the scene before them with interest; incest was not forbidden in Rome, but it certainly was a topic that got people talking, and Priscilla Petra sucking off her own father right in front of the emperor, the princess and half the senate would certainly be the talk of every local tavern by the next forty-eight hours. The actor, for his part, of course knew this was going to happen, but you wouldn't know it by looking at his shocked face -- the man was acting, and acting well. What he wasn't doing, however, was pushing her away. He was becoming hard within her lips, and he was looking down past her head, to a pair of full breasts that she bared for the entire room.

A short, heady moan passed from his lips. Then a whispered, "P-Priscilla, what are you-" But it cut off. His hands had been held open and at his sides, unsure what to do with them. While his eyes continued to look around confusedly, occasionally glancing down at the pale-skinned chest and the head already bobbing away, one palm came up to lightly cup the back of her head, though it made no motion to lessen or quicken her pace. His legs quivered, knees slightly bent, but the man stood, breathing louder and louder as the Lindsay Lohan set about wetting his erect length with her hot mouth.
 
Caelia yelped slightly at being dragged back, but quickly smiled, wanting to play it off as playful surprise. It wasn't playful surprise that came from feeling that thing pressing against her rear now. It was only half-hard now, but Emma was betting that every actor here was baring a weapon between their legs, if Priscilla's "father" was any indication. The girl was trying to think of a way out of this, but settled on simply following the script. The show must go on, and all that.

Emma did take some solace in the fact that she had gotten a pair of panties approved. It had taken a lot of wheeling and dealing, but there was no way that Emma was going to play the slutty character that didn't wear anything. She argued that as a royal, she'd have access to silken undergarments and would wear them as a status symbol. As a result, she got to wear white silken panties that only seemed to further enhance her innocent schoolgirl facade. Still, they proved a thin barrier against things.

Priscilla, meanwhile, had sunk at least half her father's impressive cock into her mouth. He'd almost immediately sprang to full length, as was to be expected when a sexy girl started playing with him. Also expected was the impressive girth and length of him. The man wasn't as well endowed as some of the actors, but likely possessed an impressive enough member to earn some appreciation from the actress.

You could be expecting it, to be sure, but it was highly unlikely that he'd been expecting what Lindsay was doing to him. The girl was an oral expert, and her tongue swirled about now, tracing patterns that most contortionists would be proud to manage. Advantage of being bisexual: Lots of time to practice orally pleasing people. Lips sucked tight, forming a vacuum seal, and cheeks collapsed upon it. The whole length of him vanished into that seal, and Priscilla was able to hold it for some time, her breasts heaving obscenely below.

The words were Lindsay's cue, and she pulled away, grinning up at her father. A little strand of saliva connected her pretty lips to his cock, and her hand continued to work it even as she spoke her lines: "I'm doing as my emperor commands, father. You want a fond memory of your daughter to leave with, don't you? Besides, we do as we are commanded."

Though it was quite clear that Lindsay was going above and beyond the call of duty. Her tongue swirled about, teasing and lathering attention and affection upon the shaft. Her teeth dragged along the shaft as she pulled up, before letting it pop out of her mouth. She blew upon it for a bit, her hand continuing to pump, before again encircling her mouth around it, sinking down. Miley had been good at giving a blowjob; Lindsay was a fucking master.
 
Harder than even his cock, the middle-aged actor was suddenly finding it tremendously difficult to stay in character. Briefly he wondered what would happen if he blew it, figuratively or literally, and they had to reshoot the scene. But he tried, tried hard to think of something else. Of anything else, anything other than Lindsay Lohan down on her knees, blowing the fuck out of his dick. Groaning heavily, his left palm placed on a column, fingers outstretched, gripping the white marble as he began to lean heavily. Breathing quick, his face red, he looked over to the emperor, his own face asked the question that his mouth could not.

"What is the matter, dear Quinctilius?" Marcellus grinned openly, his voice light and jovial. "Do not be afraid to enjoy your daughter. She is stunning, and you should be proud at the skill she is already displaying -- do not deny her the beautiful experience of having a belly fully of the very seed that created her." He then lowered his voice to a whisper, to his own daughter's left ear. "Do you see this, my sweet? Will you not do something as that for me? Do you not desire to add to the familial love we share with something so wonderful as intimacy?" Caelia's left earlobe was snatched then, lightly, between his teeth, to which he then nibbled.

Quinctilius looked back to his daughter, every breath adorned with an 'ooh' or an 'unngh.' What she'd said...if he'd had time to comprehend it, for this to all settle and to really get into the moment, he would have surely taken her mouth with more enthusiasm than he stood there with now. But, for now, the man stood, allowing her to please their lord emperor, thighs quivering, legs buckling just from the way she used her tongue. The sight of the saliva connecting her lip and his dick head in a drooping rope had made the man's sac twitch, almost having him cum on Lindsay's pretty face right then and there, but he'd managed to hold back. The hand on the back of her head never went beyond caressing her hair, but his hips did begin to move back and forth, not nearly as fast as her head was bobbing, but nonetheless it was moving in a slow rhythm.

"Y-yes, my Priscilla," he whispered in a heady tone, "m-make His Grace happy... We do whatever he commands us..." Softly, weakly, breathing as he spoke, "W-whatever he commands... nnghh..." The hand continued to pet the back of her hair, beloved and cherished.
 
Caelia shifted again, feeling her father's mounting arousal growing behind her, just rubbing against her. While the actor playing the merchant might be having difficulties, it seemed like the actor playing the emperor could hold himself for quite a while, especially with a beautiful starlet perched on his lap while they essentially watched porn. Emma knew that she was supposed to stay watching the scene, but what Lindsay was doing was appalling to her. Worse, she could feel a part of her getting slightly aroused by the sheer sensuality of it all, and she fought desperately against that feeling.

On the other hand, Lindsay was thoroughly enjoying herself. The script and the other actors hadn't anticipated Priscilla to nearly attack her father. In fact, had this been Mila or Emma on their knees, it likely would have taken some time. However, it was Lindsay, and she was sucking at that cock like she would draw the cum out through sheer force of will. Her lips continued to seal tightly about it, while she once more dived down, taking the thing in its entirety.

A hand rose up then, playing with Quinctillius' balls. They jiggled and toyed with the sac, massaging it gently for a few moments. Another hand was moving back, and a finger was just toying with the old man's anal cavity, getting ready to prod his prostrate. Clearly Priscilla fully intended her father to cum, cum soon, and cum hard. Those eyes danced with mischief as she began humming along the cock, letting the vibrations course along its length.
 
As the display before them carried on so too did the emperor's affection for his own daughter increase. Even in public like this, which was just as comfortable a setting as being in private for many Romans, he made no denial of the arousal beneath the renowned actress' bottom. The man wore nothing beneath the toga, per their director, and the toga itself did little to hinder the masculine need. It not only pressed up against the starlet, it pressed up firm, his hands on her body even encouraging her against it moreso. One hand, his right arm, wrapped around the front of the princess' waist, resting his palm lightly on the bone of the opposite side. The other, his left hand, pressed its strong, flat palm upon her belly, where it smoothed up and down, or left and right, caressing the firm, feminine expanse. Were this not enough, Marcellus' hot breath danced against the innard of her ear as he whispered, eyes forward at the display, "Breathtaking, isn't it? How beautiful a woman can look when she sets inhibitions aside, embracing the physical pleasure her body was so genuinely crafted for..."

Quinctilius' position couldn't have been more opposite, his mind split. This was his own daughter! He had raised her, cared for her all her life, and now here she was, sitting on her knees with her tits out in a room full of people, gobbling her own father's cock. ...Why couldn't she have done this sooner? The merchant's fingers laced into his young daughter's hair. For all his hesitations, for all his uncertainties, he didn't even question the how or why of such an expert display of dick sucking coming from his little girl. They had the emperor's encouragement -- nay, the emperor's order! The awkward hesitance lasted, but not for much longer, and even then, it was so quickly drowned out by the moment that it might as well not even be.

"Priscilla," he groaned the name headily. To think, to speak to his own seed in such a tone! But it was all out the window now. She was bobbing like a harlot from the docks, intent on his nut, and intent on it now. The red-and-gray heavyset man bucked in tune with her lips, fucking his own baby girl in the mouth, and every time her cheeks hollowed, every time she pulled her lips back and hollowed them in, with every single bob, already Quinctilius could feel the wrenching in his gut, the tightening of his balls.

When she cupped his balls, caressing them, playing with them, another audible, deep groan passed through his lips. All he could do was continue to grip her hair and pump against her mouth. They hadn't discussed things beforehand, really, but the actor knew this was Lindsay's scene -- much as he wanted to drop character and seriously fuck this girl in the face, this was the most he could do. Even with this, he could only grip her hair with one hand, the other against the nearby pillar, leaning upon it, so as not to block the camera. Mindblowing as this was, to be getting paid to get his dick sucked by Lindsay Lohan, he was conscious enough to be sure the camera could capture the way her cheeks hollowed and how the saliva lewdly dripped with every cock-hungry bob.

Then the finger came, probing into his ass. He hadn't expected that, actor and character both. He'd been a stage actor before this, off-Broadway; the fact that he didn't break character right then and there was a testament to the middle-aged man's experience. "Nnhng-- ggnnnhh!" It came, literally, out of nowhere. All at once, hard spurt following hard spurt crashing against the back of the teen's throat. Quinctilius' jaw was low, his mouth open wide, but no words came out. His backside clenched tight. His calves flexed, and his hands both white-knuckle gripped at whatever they could, marble pillar and red-hued hair both.

"Splendid!" Emperor Marcellus didn't even wait until the orgasm was through. An ear-to-ear grin accompanied a voice that rose back to its normal level, allowing himself to be heard from his and his Caelia's place on the throne. "Do you see that, dear?" He spoke to the princess, though loud enough that the merchant girl would hear the compliment, "What a wonderful child, to love her father so." Smiling past her shoulder, looking over to Priscilla now, "Ah-ah! Do not swallow it yet, my dear! Come. Come, come kneel before the throne. Come on up, it's alright." Grinning, his eyes on Priscilla, the emperor's hand smoothed down from Caelia's belly to the top of her left thigh now, where it gently began to rub. "I would like to see your mouth, before and after. Wouldn't you, too, Caelia dear?"
 
The emperor's shifting wasn't going unnoticed by his daughter. Caelia could feel her father's arousal growing with each passing moment, the daunting hardness beginning to press against her taut backside. Hands were caressing her flesh though, touching that soft skin and lavishing attentions upon her. Caelia shifted slightly, wishing there was a comfortable, tactful way out of this horridly uncomfortable situation. A hand settled on her stomach, and she nearly shivered. Then, to add further to the obscenity of it all, he began speaking into her ear, forcing her attention upon the scene before her. Caelia swallowed and licked her lips; there was wanton delight in what lay before her, though she hardly wanted it for herself.

Meanwhile, Priscilla was giving herself wholeheartedly to her current actions. Her father kept jerking, his hips moving spasmodically. They'd discussed how Priscilla might have had to do something untoward for the emperor, and it had been made clear that she would do what it took to advance them. However, clearly Quinctillus hadn't expected something like this. Lindsay couldn't help but wonder if even the actor was surprised, since the script didn't exactly say "and Lindsay gives him the blowjob of his life."

She slurped almost greedily upon the cock, even letting her lips pull away with a pop, smacking them and smiling up at her father. If her lips pulled away, her hand worked the shaft, squeezing and stroking him, continuing to give him attention. Then a groan, grips on her hair, and Lindsay knew her actions were about to be rewarded. The sudden insertion of the finger was what sent the poor man spiraling over the edge. Despite being ready for it, Lindsay nearly choked on the first blast of cum, and was getting ready to swallow it as it came, only to hear the line from the emperor.

Hold it? Priscilla fought to gather the creamy white in her mouth. A hand went up to her lips, pushing a little loose cum between them and dabbing the area in general. Coyly, Priscilla reached over and ran her hand along her father's remarkably clean cock, giving his head one last squeeze. She then quickly made her way over to her emperor.

Caelia had remained completely quiet, almost stiff, and had watched the obscene scene playing out before her eyes. Then Priscilla was moving closer to her, and within moments, the redhead was kneeling before them both. Those freckled breasts were quite clearly on display, and something about that seemed even more obscene than what happened next. For Lindsay opened her mouth, showing a mouthful of white liquid with a pink tongue swirling in the middle. A brief moment, enough time to ensure that it was scene, and Lindsay closed, swallowed several times, and opened again, showing a clear mouth.

It took all Emma had not to vomit.
 
"Fantastic!" The emperor's face beamed. His lips grinned. As she swallowed, first showing the royal family her mouthful of sperm, then again displaying naught but a simple tongue encased within a set of teeth, Marcellus' eyes connected directly with hers. "You see that, sweetheart? Such a good girl, taking care of her father's needs. So selfless..." His palm caressed the top of Caelia's thigh, bare skin smoothing upon bare skin. It did not delve inward, though. The man's desire for his daughter was clear as the day, but so too was the fact that he could order it of her if he wanted -- he didn't want to. He wanted her to want him. "Wonderful, Priscilla," he spoke to the merchant girl again now, eyes on hers the entire time. His smile was an ever-wicked one. "With a desire to please such as you've already displayed, I have a feeling you will fit in quite swimmingly."

His hands began to move on Caelia's body. The one left her thigh and the other her waist, both going to her hips, encasing them in his palms. "Alright sweetie, time to get up." He placed a familiar kiss lightly on her jaw. In an equally gentle tone, he continued, "Up. Daddy's got a new servant girl to tend to." One hand left her hip to give her outer thigh and backside a few gentle pats. This was as good an excuse as any to continue touching her, as if he truly needed such. Once she was risen he also stood behind her. Flashing Priscilla a smile, the emperor turned to Caelia for a moment, "Why not get started on things with your own recent acquisition? Our deal is time-sensitive, after all."

He was back to Priscilla then, looking to her, bending a knee to reach down and pluck her by the hand. "Rise," he spoke softly, standing back up himself, guiding the young girl to do the same with a smile. "My my, you certainly have impressed." A kiss to the back of her hand, eyes still set upon hers. "What say we get you started? Really...get the balls rolling. As one of the lady members of my court, Priscilla, dear, your duty is to any of the other members who desire anything from you, in whatever such vagueness may entail. Mm. Sexual acts, of course. Massages. Serving trays of food and drink. Cleaning the floors, helping in the kitchen...but, oh, those are the things you do when you are able. I have a feeling those will typically fall upon some of the others -- that there shall be a liking taken to you, and more time taken on your back or your knees than actually upon those feet."

Marcellus stepped in close, then. He stepped in close, behind her, and just to her left side; with his left hand he still held hers, and with his right he reached around Priscilla's back, placing his palm on the right side of her belly, partially upon the skin beneath her breasts, partially upon the toga she still wore. "These are the extent of your duties," he spoke on a warmly-breathed whisper, leaning in right up against the girl's ear now. "As for privileges...if you would like to show your emperor what you are fully capable of, you simply need show up at his chambers, ready to perform." A grin. "For now, though, I would not have any lady of my court dressed in any but what has been provided her. Step free of all you wear. Hand these things off to your father, and bid him goodbye for now, Priscilla. You'll see him again, of course, do not worry yourself with such, but you no longer have a need for any of your 'old' belongings. All will be provided for you."

"When this is done," he continued after momentary pause, "why not mingle?" His hands removed themselves. "Such a buxom, eager young thing as yourself...something tells me you'll make some acquaintances rather fast." Smirking, his eyes pored over the room. She'd already gained the attention of most of the people with her display so far. The rest? Well, she hadn't even gotten naked yet.
 
Again, Caelia winced at her father's words, not to mention her disgust at what Priscilla was doing. Several of the onlookers might be impressed, and one or two were even discussing their appointed turns with the merchant's daughter, but the princess was most certainly not among their number. Nor was she particularly thrilled that her father kept caressing her. Emma recalled that the emperor was supposed to be overly affectionate toward his daughter, but she hadn't realized that the actions would be quite this overt. She was beginning to wonder if she should talk to her agent, see if she could get out of this mess before it grew to be too much. More praises for the slutty merchant girl, and then Caelia was finally allowed to rise, which she did so with a princess's grace.

"I think I shall, Father," she said, bowing to her emperor. Emma traded a last look with Lindsay, who grinned in an almost disturbing manner. Then the Brit was venturing off screen, to be prepped for her next scene.

Meanwhile, Priscilla was sliding her hand within her emperor's, following his instructions. "I try, your highness," said she, inclining her head respectfully toward the man. She kept her head bowed as he explained her duties. Priscilla hadn't heard them directly before, but she was among the most savvy of the characters, and knew full well what was to be expected of her. While she wasn't exactly enthused by the prospect of so much debauchery, she was more than willing to do it. Hence the nod of acceptance.

"I'm certain I can prove my worth," she said. A leaned in head spoke words then, discussing privileges, letting her know that she simply had to show at the emperor's chambers. Priscilla said nothing, but she tilted her head toward him, her eyes and mouth taking on a decidedly sensual appearance. Her expression hesitated for a moment, before she took a step back. Again, her expression turned sensual, as her arms raised. The slick toga slid off her body, baring her trimmed frame. Freckles dotted the paled skin, nearly making her look catlike. The costumers had told the various starlets that their bodies must also reflect their station as much as possible. Meaning that Lindsay's bush had a neatly trimmed appearance to it, but still showed some hints of red fur above her pouting nether lips. The girl's body looked scrumptious, and considering her recent performance, several were certainly considering partaking.

The redhead nodded toward the emperor, thanking him for his grace and majesty, before heading to stroll into the crowd. According to the script, Lindsay was supposed to mill about the people, entertaining both. This was her first time to showcase her status as the bisexual character, meaning she immediately went between a couple, kissing first the female, then the male, both with passion most unseemly.

Yes, she was certain to be a hit at the court.
 
She would be a hit at court, a hit on talk shows, a hit on the news... 'Lindsay Lohan proudly engages in bisexual porn' would be the headlines, with people adamantly debating whether there was artistic merit to the show, that this was all just properly, and bravely depicting the day and age, or if it was all some poorly veiled excuse to showcase mainstream actresses and actors in a pornographic sense. ...What did it matter? Everyone would be getting laid, everyone was being paid well, and each of these young women would be a name known in every household. Everybody won.

Everyone except for Quinctilius. Well, there was the fact that his sac had just been emptied, that a generous load of his spunk was now sitting in his little girl's belly, but that wonderful high also served to accentuate the empty look in his face when he watched her and the emperor talking, realizing it would be some time before he saw her again. Would she have blown him all this time? Like that? How much had been for his sake, and how much had been for the pleasure of their Lord Emperor? He watched the two of them talk, dumbfounded. He watched his daughter's expression change. He watched her body shift, and her toga completely fall. Then he couldn't help but take glimpse of that neat red bush before she turned from her father, unknowingly giving him only that teasing glance that would accompany his thoughts for months to come, and walked off.

Emperor Marcellus gave the girl's pale right cheek a pair of playful pats as she scampered off toward the others. Grinning, a grin that was warm and wicked both, he kept his eyes on Priscilla's bare, freckled back and her rear end as he knelt, taking up her discarded clothing. He didn't look away until he stood, making his way to the merchant -- a man whose generosity certainly had placed him in the Emperor's favor. He looked to Quinctilius' face, grinning, grasping the man on a shoulder while holding out the clothes to him with his opposite hand. These had been Priscilla's, before she officially belonged to Marcellus, in the same way that any other at court was his to bid and command, and thus these clothes, of her former life, remained possessions of her old owner, of her father. It took a moment for Quinctilius to even pull his eyes away from the ongoing scene however. It didn't occur until Priscilla had been surrounded by a group of several, thus cutting off his view. At that point he turned to Marcellus, saw the garb, and nodded, accepting it with a long, lost face and nary a word.

As for the girl herself, the chosen pair couldn't have been more excited that she came their way. They had been standing, conversing playfully, the man, Senator Aelius Flavinus, a man of portly girth and only moderate height, with a hand on the waist of a modest-bodied brunette. She'd stood there with a silver platter with similarly silver, elegantly gilded long-stemmed cups and a pitcher balanced with one hand and a shoulder while they'd spoke. Her body was pretty, but average, with simple hips and a short toga that, per her emperor's command, had its right strap down, her small b-cup breast in open view. Her face was a lovely one, though, which, combined with her sweet, shy voice, had been the reasons for her invitation to such an entitled position.

The young woman, Licinia, blushed up until her face was hidden to the camera by the side and back of Priscilla's head as they kissed, though it soon returned promptly after, the blush even deeper. Aelius, her counterpart, couldn't be more excited by the redhead coming over; his one hand left Licinia's slim waist, both hands moving to each side of Priscilla's. As they kissed, his mouth grinning something wicked, several others, mostly men, but a few of the half-clothed female servants they'd been speaking with as well, formed a bit of a curious circle around the three. Lindsay's naked shoulders, back, butt and legs all started to become obscured to the camera as arms, legs and upper bodies clouded together, but that made for a fun shot the director kept for a long several seconds -- the naked actress disappearing within the small crowd, as if engulfed by it.

A slightly raised shot was switched to momentarily, while several cameras came in close, peeking over the shoulders of these extras. Not a single titillating angle nor a solitary drop of cum would be missed.
 
If anyone wouldn't care about "bad press," it was Miss Lindsay Lohan. The girl's life had become something of a running joke for years, and she'd rather be known for audaciously diving into a role here than for being a strung out drug addict or desperate lesbian wannabe. Who cared if it was all really a vague excuse to have some Hollywood elites naked and squirming? Certainly Lindsay didn't; she was nearly enjoying it.

Priscilla certainly would be serving the emperor well, though her actress knew that she wouldn't be the jewel in the man's eye. That role had gone to another, though Lindsay was more than happy with what she got. Priscilla got to engage in the most bisexual antics out of all the characters, save perhaps the near lesbian servant girl, and in exchange for truly raunchy scenes of that nature, Lindsay got to avoid the bestiality that may very well become the staple of the princess and the mistress.

For now, Priscilla was enjoying her selections. She was already tugging at Licinia's toga, even as she altered her kisses with the available man. Priscilla was fully aware that more walls of flesh were coming in, and she grinned as she looked about, her eyes dancing.

"Now now," she said, her voice teasing. Her hands were already crawling over Licinia, and she was adjusting the servant girl purposefully. "Ladies first. I'll make sure to get to everyone who wants to."

She leaned over Licinia, "You don't have to worry about me running out of energy."

Then the redhead would pull the servant girl in, drawing her and removing that pesky toga. Meanwhile, her hands had found Flavinus' member, which she dragged forward. The thick thing would soon be wedged between both girl's bodies, as Priscilla pulled the girl in. The cock had become the meat in their sandwich, and flesh would soon be sliding and grinding over it. Priscilla was already more than willing to show her eagerness to tend to the court's needs, as her wandering hands were seeking out whatever sexual organs she could find.

Soon, all would descend into a near unrecognizable orgy of flesh, with a redhead actress at the center, enjoying every minute of it.
 
Licinia officially wasn't the newest servant girl anymore, though despite today's addition, in truth she'd still only been doing this for a week, maybe two. She'd lost her innocence in a perverted game of the Emperor's choosing the day she no longer would be a fishmonger's daughter, and though she'd accepted her role of expected lovemaking to any who wish her company in the weeks since, this was only her second actual orgy. The girl's face flushed brilliantly. Her skimpy attire lowered at the redhead's hands. She felt lips upon lips. She felt bare chest upon bare chest. She felt Priscilla's buxom breasts pressing firmly into her more modest. Her slender fingers slid over top one of the other girl's hands, giving the back of her palm a gentle, momentary squeeze. For what reason she was not entirely sure. It just held there a moment, and squeezed a bit more over Priscilla's palm when she felt the warmth of a shaft between them, sandwiched between their bellies.

Flavinus was not the timid sort; rather, the man was in pure delight. He grinned wickedly. He chuckled openly. His cock, which had already been aroused, now pulsed with full-bodied excitement when Priscilla fished it out of his pants and began stroking. When she brought her and Licinia's bodies around it, the man's palms reached around, gripping into the far side of either girl's hips. He snickered as he leaned in, unpleasant breath dancing a freckled neck -- this was a man of stature, of wealth, of a life where personal appearance was not so pivotal as what he brought to the court. Such was the case for a number of the men here, though not all, born into a lifestyle where inherited wealth and their family's position afforded them greatly. His breath danced upon that pale shoulder and neck and his hands gripped on each girl's far hip. "Well if you aren't the most desirable thing I've seen come in here in some time..." he snickered in a whisper. Each hand dropped, then, one gripping firmly to Licinia's far buttcheek, fingers fully splayed, the other digging into Priscilla's.

The cameras made sure to get as much of his as they realistically could. Some cameramen were mixed in with the crowd, catching what shots they might through the space between bodies. Some were raised up on platforms, getting above-crowd views, and even a complete top-down view. One guy was even filming between peoples' legs, for the interesting shot of the trio standing together from just that point of view. The director made the silent motion for one side of the crowd to move away, and that's where the magic of television came in; the actors would continue as they had, acting, acting like a bunch of Romans starting up an orgy, and now a pair of cameramen could stand freely on an open side of the crowd. People viewing this later on would know nothing; such was the job of the editing room, cutting this all together in a way that would be steamy and seamless. ...What a hard task that would be.

Kisses between the girls started off as peppered, a blushing Licinia placing quick, light peck after quick, light peck upon Priscilla's lips. Flavinus was not new to the lifestyle, and as such, far more aggressive, gripping firm to each's backside while his teeth made way to finding an earlobe. Somewhere along the way the platter and drinks the brunette had been carrying lost their balance in her arms, spilling to the floor. It was somewhere along the way, as nobody truly seemed to care; she'd be tasked with taking to her knees and cleaning it up later, afterward. The girl's free hand reached up to timidly, but bravely reach behind the new girl's neck, hooking itself there. Flavinus, not to be left out, chuckled and asked, "So would you care for it first? Or do you look to taste it after I've had your new friend here?"
 
The sheer decadence of what they did intoxicated Priscilla. It was as if she'd spent years restraining herself, not allowing the true vixen to come unleashed upon the world. At least, this is what it would appear to the audience. In truth, Lindsay was relishing the opportunity to tease and flirt, and especially to drag this obviously reluctant girl into something of an orgy almost immediately. Priscilla undulated against her fellow feminine lover, her hands running along sides to stoke a fire. With a great display of dexterity and awareness, the girl reached out to stroke the incoming senator, her hand rolling till it hit the combined flesh of the two females.

"I'm the hottest thing you'll ever touch," breathed Priscilla. She looked over at the senator, her smile a combination of arrogance and lust. Her hand continued to stroke his member, working it up with easy rolls of the wrist. She could already feel his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her buttocks, pushing her even closer to the other female part of this. His teeth had graced her earlobe as well, and she rewarded him with a loud, throaty moan, one that was certain to be picked up by nearby microphones.

Priscilla descended upon Licinia then, her lips seizing the girl's. Teeth grasped plump flesh, dragging the girl's mouth open for the seizing. Lindsay's tongue soon dominated the other woman's mouth, taking full control over her and the situation. That dextrous muscle flicked the dull one within, coaxing it to life, to dance together.

Meanwhile, Priscilla's hands had traveled down. Clearly Flavinus was into their actions, possibly even more enthused than the redhead. However, the brunette needed... convincing. Thin fingers began teasing around a sex, fluttering about. The nails dragged along the sensitive flesh of the inner thigh, before coming to the nether lips. Priscilla leaned forward, her mouth dominating the other woman as her fingers slid inside the girl. They quickly spread, scissoring the insides even as they began thrusting.

Her other hand was not lax. It continued to stroke Flavinus, actually increasing in pace as the assault on the brunette continued. Priscilla pointed the head toward their writhing bodies, using their undulations to provide further friction for them both. The redhead now had both her partners in hand, and was using those talented digits to what was likely to be great effect.
 
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