How I Became Emperor

Publishing this is scary. Not because I am afraid of criticism (at least I think I can handle that pretty well), but because this has been a labour that started almost a decade ago, and was even then really only intended for private consumption and not regularly tended to.

Now, a decade older, having not mellowed out and (arguably) a bit wiser to the world, I have decided to put this forth. I will welcome any feedback, good or bad, but hope my writing from ten years ago still holds up now.

The first two chapters (which, as a warning, encompass 122,000+ words by themselves) are mostly done. On top of that, I am still expanding on the story, delving into new fantasies and new characters. So in theory there is a lot of content I could just throw at you now. However, I am not going to release all of it in one go, mainly because I have noted that there is a serious need for me to go back and edit what I have written. I cringe, re-reading significant portions of my younger-self's exuberance. I am going to try to keep myself to a schedule of releasing one part every week, until I get to my current end-point, at which time I will probably need extra time to complete the story.

A couple other things to head off:

1. The narrator/main character doesn't have a name on purpose. He will also never be named going forward.
2. While this starts in our past, it will move into our future in chapter 3.
3. While all parts will contain explicit sex scenes, there may be long sections of philosophical or social discussions.
4. All characters are exclusively over 18 years old.

All that being said, I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter One: From My 21st Birthday to My First Election

Wednesday

This autobiography will tell readers the real reasons why I ended up taking the oath of office that made me the first honorary emperor of the re-established Roman Empire. Many biographies have been written about me, and I shall refer you to them if you want to be instructed on official transcripts or the various small oddities of my life that have been picked over by the public press. In this autobiography I will retell only those events that made me powerful - in heretofore unknown salacious detail.

The first thing anybody wishing to emulate me will need is luck. Lots of it. It was my good fortune that when I turned twenty one I met Cindy. As much as this story is ostensibly about me, in reality I believe that Cindy was the fulcrum around which my success truly pivots. She was the kind of girl who would never know hardship. Even if she had chosen never to work or apply herself to anything, men would have thrown money at her just to be near her. The epitome of the blond bombshell, Cindy towered over most men with 180cm, had legs that didn't just go on forever but also gave her the appearance of floating across the ground, and had a (comparatively) small bubble butt and breasts that would comfortably and snugly fit into my hands.

It should be noted here for anyone who had been living oblivious to the world for the past three decades that I am not your average male. All through my life I have towered over my friends and once my teenage hormones finally decided to give up trying to create a monster, I had grown into a two meter giant. My hands were equally massive giving me the facility to easily grasp a basketball with one hand, my feet made it difficult to find shoe stores that had stock in my size, and I regularly lamented the fact that my clothing was expensive just because it consumed more fabric than most other garments. Alas, inasmuch as I could cut an imposing figure whenever I wished, fate also gave me a weak physical condition and made me a gangly assemblage of limbs attached to a sufficiently fit, but definitely unimpressive frame. Teenagers can be mean about appearances, and when I turned 14 life became miserable. Already an outlier in respect to my height, a severe bout of acne and a sadly lacking aesthetic sense for fashion helped push me into the geek crowd. In retaliation against everyone I did my best to glorify and exacerbate my alternative situation. It was during this time that I developed the fashion and hairstyle which I am told has become iconic of my image (and, upon my entrance into the political game, fashionable among youths despite my exhortations otherwise). However, during my high school years the straw blond, ram-rod straight hair that fell to the small of my back was seen as the mark of a hippy, and the pure-black chinos, cufflink shirts, broad-brim western style felt hat and knee-length cloak casually thrown across the shoulders instead of worn as intended (i.e. NOT using the sleeves to house arms) were all indicative of a goth disposition.

And so it came that on my 21st birthday the few friends I had graciously took it upon themselves to arrange a party at a local bar/club. We drank, we laughed, we joked and we drank some more. By the time I was finishing my third Guinness (and the various shots of tequila, vodka and rum that people kept buying for me) I noticed that I was definitely nearing the transition from extremely tipsy to highly drunk. That in itself wasn't a problem, it was my birthday after all and I was aiming for the stars and attempting to get rip-roaring drunk. However I had a tradition when out on a birthday celebration that I would always buy a round of absinthe shots for anyone in the bar who cared to try my favourite drink, and for the first time I had promised myself that I would buy the real absinthe, made with wormwood: a mild hallucinogen instead of a non-hallucinogenic synthetic substitute.

So I sauntered (it probably was much more stumbling, but as I remember it I had extreme grace and suavity) up to the bar. As I was looking to catch the attention of the barkeep I happened to look across the bar to where a small group of girls had gathered for their own late night party. In their midst, quietly dominating the social scene simply with her presence was Cindy. A black dress, surprisingly modest, yet somehow still incredibly sexy without revealing much. It ended at her knee on the left side, and nearer her upper thigh on the right. Subtle support hinted at the shape of her breasts without showing any cleavage. She did not notice me staring, which I count as luck on my part, for had she seen the lechery in my eyes she might never have talked to me. As it was, however, the barkeep had to wake me from my reverie.

In a slight daze still, I gave him my alcoholic command: anyone in the bar who wanted one would have an absinthe shot on me. A slight frown from the barkeep preceded, "That's not going to be cheap mate."

I tried to smile winningly and handed over my credit card. "Tonight I don't care. It's my birthday!"

"It's your money." The barkeeper shrugged and wandered over to the closing bell.

A quick premature ring of the bell got the attention of everyone in the place, and after pausing the music also the attention of the dancers gyrating to the bass beat. "The crazy birthday boy over there," he indicated me, "is buying a round of absinthe shots for anyone who wants one. Pick it up in the next ten minutes at the end of the bar." He turned the music up again, called over one of the other barkeeps to help him and set to work pouring out measures of absinthe into mixer glasses, and separate tall glasses of water, while his companion set to work placing the sugar cubes over the alcohol and lighting the bright green liquid. Absinthe is not a very popular drink, the licorice taste puts off most people, but the option for a free drink as well as the novelty to most customers, a curiosity heightened by the almost ritualistic way in which absinthe is prepared and drunk, attracted a large crowd. Some of those who happened to pass by my place at the bar as they made their way to collect their drinks gave me congratulations and thanks that I attempted to accept gracefully.

In between well wishers I attempted to snatch a glance of the goddess across the bar, to see whether she was going to avail herself of my offer, but I couldn't immediately see her. In the end I did spot her platinum blond hair flow gracefully through the crowd around the end of the bar as though the press of humans was no more than water. Having gained the prime position for those queuing for the free drink, she leaned in to ask a question of the barkeep who looked up momentarily distracted from his work by the beauty before him. I assume that Cindy had to ask the question twice because only after a stunned moment did the barkeep glance in my direction, wink and shake his head. Cindy waited a moment while the barkeep fiddled with something behind the bar that I either could not see or didn't care to notice, busy as I was simply admiring Aphrodite's earthly incarnation.

But then Cindy accepted a platter from the barkeep and flowed gracefully again through the pressing crowd. Having found an exit she made a beeline for me.

"I don't think it's fair that the man buying the round doesn't get served the first drink." Her voice was quiet, reserved, but at the same time absolutely self-assured and incredibly seductive. I had to fight to get any words out.

"Th- thanks." I stammered.

"Gladly. I'm Cindy by the way." She stretched out her hand to be shaken. I gave her my name in return.

"Shall we?" She smiled at me radiantly, and set the tray down on the bar. "You're going to have to instruct me how to drink this properly though. I have no idea how this is done!"

I called over the third bartender, still serving drinks to customers who didn't avail themselves of my offer, to relight our absinthe, and showed her how to delicately pour half the water over the caramelizing sugar cube and into the burning absinthe, then briefly clinked glasses with her before pouring the warm liquid down my throat. As I lowered my glass again, and took up the leftover water to help quench the burning sensation that the absinthe leaves as it makes its way down the oesophagus I noticed my friends watching quietly in awe at my company. They had enough sense not to disturb this moment of pure bliss, even intoxicated as they were.

The drink consumed, I waited for the buzz and mild hallucinations to turn up. With a sudden start I realized that I wasn't sure if Cindy was aware that this absinthe might give her visions. She gave a small bemused laugh at my concern, and a cough at the strength of the alcohol, "the barkeeper mentioned something about it, yeah."

I was intoxicated enough to make a rather pathetic pass at her, "I can only hope my hallucination is half as beautiful as you."

The reaction from her was unexpected: she gave me a strange look and then sought eye-contact with her friends. Later she would tell me that she was not used to being approached so openly. Most men naturally assumed her to have a boyfriend - a conclusion which I would have similarly reached had I not been as drunk as I was. Cindy was used to having to approach men herself.

We were saved an awkward and possibly debilitating lull in our conversation as her gaggle of friends came over to thank me for their drinks as well, and to wish me a happy birthday. Each of the girls was beautiful, I remember that much, but somehow they all became little more than a blur in the background of Cindy. They took their leave and returned to their end of the bar with Cindy in tow. Before she left however she leaned in close to me, gave me a kiss on the cheek (which was arousing to me - though it was little more than a peck) and whispered, "Happy Birthday" in my ear.

I sat at the bar for a moment longer, attempting to calm my beating heart, half-mast erection and my nerves before I rejoined my friends at a corner table to admiring and lecherous comments, and reclaimed my stool at the head of the table.

Ten minutes later the bartender came over to me at my corner table as I watched a green fairy with a distinct resemblance of Cindy flitter and strip seductively on the table for my private pleasure, and returned my card.

"I've billed you for €1750." He stated. Before he left I handed him thirty euros and suggested that he and the other bartenders consume a drink on me when they closed for the night - and to keep the change. I then returned to the private strip show the fairy was giving me.

Most of my friends were either engrossed in their own visions or had taken to the dance floor in an attempt to further heighten the buzz. As I was engrossed in watching the fairy use her wings to hover on the edge of a beer glass and massage her breasts in slow semi-circles, Cindy's voice broke through my pleasure. At first I assumed it to be part of the hallucination when she asked "liking what you see?" in sultry tones. I just nodded, but watched the vision dissolve back into reality as Cindy continued, "I had the most amazing vision as well."

She leaned in closer behind me so that I could feel her breasts press lightly against my back while she equally as lightly whispered for my ear only, "Do you want to know what I saw?"

I managed a hoarse "yes, please!" Hardly daring to believe that this was actually happening I held my breath for what seemed an age while I waited for her to answer. Cindy grabbed a nearby chair and scooted in desperately close behind my stool.

"I saw," she began almost contemplatively, "a bright flash of purple. It was so sudden I think my friends were worried I might collapse. They grabbed my arms and where they touched me I felt a wave of fire enter my body and burn through me in a cleansing roar."

As she talked Cindy brushed her silken fingertips along my arms erotically and pushed her body up closer so that we were connected from hip to shoulder. Her pert breasts squashed up against my back.

"Once the wave subsided I saw an angel walk into the bar. I know he was an angel because he had massive wings, a large flowing cloak, a bright silver sword and walked through the door while it was closed. I couldn't see his face, I don't think he had one, but he looked at me, and walked straight towards me."

I didn't know what to do with my hands, I was breathing heavily and hoping desperately that this femme fatale did not notice my now fully sprung erection.

"The angel stopped right in front of me, and raised the sword slowly. As he raised it the sword glowed brighter and brighter, I had to close my eyes, but even through my eyelids I saw the sword and the angel as clearly as though I had not closed my eyes at all."

Cindy's full lips were now brushing against my ear with every word she said. I am sure my heavy breathing betrayed my arousal but I didn't care anymore. I had barely enough presence of mind not to remove my hands from their vice-like grip on the table. They would have probably wandered to places that such a public place as this bar would not allow.

"The angel very lightly touched the tip of the sword to my forehead, and pressed gently until it broke the skin. I became immediately aroused, as wet as the ocean on a rainy day." Cindy intimated to me, "I needed release, but the angel wouldn't let me cum just yet. He touched the sword to my chest and pushed it through to pierce my heart. As he did so my arousal reached breaking point! I moaned in pleasure, still aware of my friends holding me, and that I couldn't be too obvious."

The whole of Cindy's hands now wandered across my arms and chest caressing me quite openly and I thought I sensed subtle movement as Cindy began to gyrate her hips surreptitiously against mine.

"And still I did not cum. I tried to silently beg this angel to bring me sweet release, but he just shook his head, his face still obscured, and ever so slowly lowered the tip of his sword to here." Cindy took my right hand and gently guided it behind my back and between us to sink lower and lower across her taut belly. I could feel her skin quiver underneath the dress as my hand passed over the velvety fabric. With glacial impetus she let her guiding hand push mine ever lower between her thighs. As my hand slid into place over her groin she let go a breath held since she stopped talking.

"You can't imagine the ecstasy of that sword tip as it barely even brushed my pussy." She took up her story again, "better than anything, ... I, ... I can't think of any way to describe it. And still I did not cum! The angel smiled, I think, though I still couldn't see his face, and pressed the sword so that only a millimetre entered me there."

Cindy used her hand to press my middle finger slowly into the narrow chasm between her nether lips through the fabric of dress and underwear.

"Yes!" She breathed in my ear unable to keep her arousal under complete control anymore. "And as he pressed his sword into me I finally came. I gushed more than I have ever released. My underwear is soaked, my tights are cold and clammy down to my thighs, I can hardly move without feeling a squelch."

Her guiding hand left mine behind to continue slowly caressing her, and gently tugged the fabric of the dress away from between us. Her other hand slowly descended across my chest and brushed lightly across my penis through my trousers under the table.

"When I had calmed down a bit," Cindy continued to whisper in my ear in between breaths and small nibbles at my ear, "the angel raised his other hand and pointed at you. Then he slowly dissolved, leaving me still held in the arms of my friends who swear only a few seconds had passed."

Her one hand continued its ministrations down below while I similarly caressed her pussy now only protected by indeed soaked underwear. From what I could tell it was a very racy and skimpy slip. Cindy's other hand, having given me more direct access to her vagina rose along my back sensuously and then weaved itself into my hair.

"Thank you for such an amazing vision! I never knew something like this could exist!" Cindy cooed breathlessly. "What did you see?"

I didn't answer. I was too engrossed in the wonder of her caresses, and the sensation of rubbing her pussy to make any kind of sound. I don't think Cindy minded either. She was engrossed in the sensations as well, using her hips to gently increase the friction between my hand and her groin. I revelled in the sensations and was taken by surprise when suddenly Cindy buried her face in my neck, and moaned uncontrollably, yet as softly as she could. The vibration of her open mouthed moans pressed against my throat as well as her sudden grip on my member through my pants sent me over the edge as well. Now not only her slip was wet, but a definite dampness spread along my boxers as well.

We rested in that position for a long moment, then Cindy kissed me lightly on the throat and got up. I panicked at the sudden loss of her presence against me, though she kept her hands resting on my shoulders while she came around to plop herself in my lap. My eyes flew open as she did this to catch the shocked and almost horrified expression on two of my friends' faces who had evidently watched with some interest what Cindy and I had been doing. Before I had a chance to be embarrassed, though, Cindy filled my vision. She gazed smokily into my eyes, and used a silken palm against my cheek to bring us together for our first real kiss.

I probably should have mentioned it before, but I was new to all this. I had never kissed a girl on the lips, let alone with tongue! Any previous sexual experience I might have had was completely self-taught in the privacy of my bedroom with only the models in magazines to keep me company. I had often made a pass at a girl, occasionally managed to steal a first date from a woman before she uttered the wish to 'just be friends'. I had no experience with anything that had happened or would happen. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nothing.