Vulcan naming conventions prioritize names that start with S and end with K (especially for men). Names tend to be of one or two syllables. Consonant stacks (such as the ‘Sp’ in 'Spock’) are encouraged. So what is it about the name of my cool new Vulcan OC, Startreck, that everyone suddenly has a problem with
He sighed as he looked over the legislation papers beneath him. One hand rubbed his temples wearily as the other turned over one page after another.
Candles flickered as he finished reading yet another page. This had to be completed tonight. He had promised the Senate.
The last thing I need is for them to view me as incompetent. Or worse - overwhelmed.
As the candle burned down, so did his energy. His mind started to wander against his will. He remembered the bold woman in the Senate, speaking up over the dry old men. Speaking up over him.
He remembered her words. How she dared to disagree. How she spoke her mind. He sighed. It was a different sigh this time. One of desire. His head rested in his left hand. His dominant right hand slipped down from the papers and down onto his lap. His briefly flicked his eyes up.
Nobody is here. It won’t matter. And, the way I feel… it’ll be quick.
He allowed his hand to roam over his crotch. He palmed himself over the shot silk of his custom-made robe. He closed his eyes and rested his chin deeply into his hands.
He needed more friction, and slipped his hand underneath his robe now, allowing a small moan to escape as he gripped his hard cock. After a minute or so of stroking himself, he was already nearing his peak.
He stopped as his heard an echo. He shook it off.
Just my imagination.
“Caesar?”
He looked up, wide eyed. It was you. The bold woman from the Senate.
For how long has she been stood there? How many times has she called my name?
“My apologies, my Lord, I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading.”
He remained silent.
“I can see you are quite engrossed.” You offered a polite smile as you looked down at the papers in front of him. You held more papers in your hand. His work was certainly not done.
It looked as though I was reading.
“My Lord,” you continued, finding it odd that he hadn’t spoke. “The men of the Senate are pressing for the new legislations to be passed. Truly, I respect your process. However, we do need them as soon as you are able.”
Ohhh she’s telling me what I ought to do…
“My Lord?”
I can’t stop now…
You furrowed your brows. Why was he staring at you? Why wasn’t he talking? And why was his shoulder moving? What on earth was his hand doing under…?
“My Lord, are you…? My Lord!”
He placed his finger to his mouth, silently shushing you. Clearly, he didn’t want you to verbalise what he was doing.
You looked at him with your mouth gaping open, stunned at his audacity. Yes, he was Emperor. He could do as he pleased. With who he pleased. But this was uncalled for.
You said nothing more. You stood there. Watching him. You could have left. Turned away. Looked down. Averted your eyes. But you stayed. You watched as his mouth fell open. As his stifled a moan by biting his lip. As he shuddered when he climaxed.
You noticed how you felt when his eyes never left you. Even when he finished.
Your eyes cast to a nearby chair. On it, lay his cape and several items of clothing. It looked as though he had removed those layers hours earlier. You noticed his cravat. Smirking to yourself, you reached for it. You passed it to him. The smirk remained on your face. He looked flushed. From his climax or from embarrassment, you couldn’t be sure. He took the cravat from you with a tight smile.
You turned on your heels and left, an extraordinary feeling of power coursing through you.
Underneath the desk, the Emperor wiped away the evidence of his actions using the cravat you had handed to him. The soiled cravat now lay loosely in his lap.
She’s not getting away so easily…
“Don’t you have legislation for my approval?”
You stopped. Surely he wasn’t going to talk about work now.
You turned, and cocked your head curiously. “No. I will wait until the Emperor is more…” You looked him up and down deviously. “…clear-headed.”
He leaned forward, staring at you with intensity as he clasped his hands together on top of the desk. “I assure you. My head has never been more clear.”
“Very well.”
You handed him the bills. He continued to stare at you as he picked up his quill. Reluctantly, as though your eyes were glued together by honey, he broke the eye contact and turned his gaze to the papers. He read every line. He didn’t miss a beat. He passed them back to you. Signed.
You cocked your head again and cast your eyes to the desk, imagining the scene that had taken place beneath it.
“Next time the Emperor feels the urge to find release, I hope he’ll…”
“I apologise.” He spoke quickly and unexpectedly. He glanced down at the desk and nervously tugged at his lips with his thumb and index finger. His cheeks filled with shame.
What is wrong with me. This poor woman. I shouldn’t have done that to her.
“If you let me finish.” You spoke softly yet firmly. You leaned forward and tilted his chin upwards with your index finger. “The next time the Emperor desires release. I hope he’ll call on me. My role is to assist in all matters of the Empire. I would be only too glad to…” You eyed him hungrily. “…lend a hand.”
His tongue ran along his bottom lip. He felt a foreign sensation in his solar plexus. Was it excitement? Desire?
He thought on this as you turned and left his palatial office.
Here’s a little one shot about Commodus being a sub in your relationship, smut and fluff, enjoy!
The flutes, claps and cheers filled the palace, effervescence and joy for the Calendae Ianuariae, New Year. Statues of Janus were erected in all Rome, the double face deity looking to the past and towards the year to come. You smiled, finding yourself looking towards the past…
It was about a year ago, you were exactly at the same place for New Year, having to bear with mundane whispers and gossiping of the court, but you heard everything, and people found pleasure confiding in you. It used to be the incarnation of boredom, having to wear a smile as if you didn’t crave to go home. Today you still thanked the gods for not listening to yourself, for that night your life had changed. You had met your husband, Commodus, son of Marcus Aurelius and Emperor of the Roman Empire.
“Careful not to get lost in your memories. Someone might take advantage of it.” Said a charming masculine voice from behind you, you felt the man approach, leaning closer to your ear, making you smile “Still as beautiful as the first day I laid my eyes upon you.” He cooed, coming to stand in front of you, a glass of wine in each hand, handing one to you, Commodus, the man of your heart.
“Such praises and care tonight…” you commented, happily accepting the glass and taking a sip of this round and powerful Gaul wine. Commodus looked at you in the eyes, devoted, obsessed.
“I serve to please you, my love. And Rome.” He answered in a whisper, you had recently taken the first place in his thoughts, managing to distract him from the turbulence and violence of the Senate. After all, you had one advantage…
“Then I hope that the night is only starting for us. As the roman tradition wants…let us start the year as we want it to be all year along…” you teased him with a smile he knew too well.
“And what could that be, my queen?” he asked, a hint of hope in his voice as if he was craving something. You slightly leaned forward to speak on the confidence tone.
“Kneel.” You requested; your voice only hearable by your husband. His eyelids briefly fluttered, as if he had been waiting for these words.
“How daring of you to ask this of your emperor.” He retorted on a dangerous tone, you were seeing the fierce lion again, untamable, unwilling to submit. But you knew it was a façade he pulled in front of the public and so his face softened. “But you are worth submitting too.” He whispered as he knelt after making sure no one was around, luckily you had gone to an intimate corner and on purpose. You savored as the mightiest man in the world, placed his hands on his lap as he looked at you from below, his eyes shining with devotion, love.
It was something you had understood soon enough in your marriage. Commodus craved submission, he could be the leader, the one with a speech that won’t be contested. He had a high position, yet he didn’t want power or wealth. All he desired was to serve people, his people, please the empire, please the Senate, his sister and you. You had dompted him, earned his trust, cracked the shell open to reveal a vulnerable boy seeking comfort to face the rest.
“Good boy.” You smiled, taking a step closer to cup his chin, lifting it a bit more as you leaned forward, placing a light and slow kiss upon his lips; he closed his eyes, sighing, relief washing over him, he had been busy all night with requests from senators and nobles, now he could let go. Your fingers made their ways down his neck, feeling his quickening pulse, sliding underneath his tunic to play with a thin leather string tied around his neck, pulling on it to press his lips more against yours, hearing his fists grab the fabric of his toga.
“Take your leave. I shall excuse you to our guests and join you when it’s done.” You ordered him as you parted from him, hearing him retain a whimper of happiness. By taking the lead you relieved him of suffering more the presence of political guests, he only had to leave and wait for your return.
Excusing the Emperor next to all his guests took as long as you expected, close to an hour. Commodus must have been on the edge waiting for you all that time, but as you made your way to the emperor’s private chambers, you found yourself remembering the first time you had attempted to tame Commodus during an intimate moment. Oh he had been furious as you resisted him and instead tried to reverse the roles. He had been confused as to whatever he was doing was bad, if he hadn’t been told about this peculiar power of wives, or if you were a danger to his position.
“I apologize if my attitude troubles you. I perhaps wrongly assumed you would enjoy this. I merely wanted to…” you had caressed his face tenderly, looking at him in the eyes with all the devotion you had for him. “I want to make you understand that you can fully trust me and let go whenever you are with me, you don’t have to pretend or be on your guards. We are past this, you know I adore you. I want to take care of you…” at his words you had witnessed a change in his eyes, in this moment of extreme vulnerability you had touched a sensitive spot.
“No one ever said that to me.” He had replied, moved, from the start he had trusted you, making you his greatest friend before asking for your hand; your words were the proof he wasn’t wrong about you. From that moment on, Commodus had surrendered to your hand, your will.
And here he was, tonight once again, as you penetrated the imperial chambers. He was waiting for you, stripped of any clothing but the leather string around his neck. He was in the same position as before, kneeling with his hands folded on his lap, his head lowered. He was shivering, both from excitement and cold. You quietly closed the door behind yourself, detailing him as he had recognized your footsteps, his breathing quickening, anticipation building, the temptation to look at you…
“Poor Commodus, you must have thought I had forgotten about you.” You cooed playfully.
“Never mistress. I trust you fully…I just worried that…” he started but was interrupted by your thumb on his lips, you were here now, and you would take care of him. You let go of his face and went to sit on the bed, facing him. “Everything has been taken care of. You did good tonight, pretending to care about their insignificant problems, they believed you, I saw it.” You praised him softly, gesturing with your fingers for him to join you.
Commodus’ eyes lit up, he went on all fours and slowly crawled to your feet. You loved to watch the muscles of his shoulders work as he did this, resembling a predator, almost. He came to brush his face against your knee, you could almost hear him purring. He exhaled happily, placing kisses on your thigh. “I will have them killed tomorrow.” He said with a grin but gasped when you grabbed his hair, pulling on them to make him look at you.
“Haven’t I taught you patience? Or have you forgotten already?” you asked, watching his pupils dilate, once again he was following his impulses too easily.
“I am sorry. I won’t kill them yet.” He muttered but knew it wasn’t enough, that he would be punished for it, after all, he had done it on purpose, he loved when you taught him a lesson. Your foot went to caress his legs, sliding between them, almost reaching his crotch but not touching it, your toes brushing against his inner thighs which squeezed in anticipation.
You clicked your tongue “Keep them open.” Your ordered, making him lick his lips. His arousal was starting to show, his nipples hardening just like his cock. You retracted your leg, and stood up, going in front of the bronze mirror. Slowly, you started to undo the pin that was holding together your tunic, letting the fabric slide off your curves, you wore nothing under for this special night. You heard him take a deep breath; you were starting to make it hard for him to control himself.
As you turned round, you met his eyes making him quickly turn his head away. You approached, a little smile playing on your lips, that boyish impatience of his had made you fall for him in the first place. You circled around him, your fingers tracing his shoulders “Patience is a virtue you can acquire…lay low, observe your enemies, watch them rip each other apart, let Pluto take them…all they want is that you act so you can make a mistake. Allow them to show who they really are, those old men haven’t much time left to live, they don’t have the time to be patient. The People will see who the traitors of Rome are.” You murmured, your tone almost playful, you enjoyed politics.
Then you moved away from him once again, Commodus could feel his skin grow cold, he craved your touch, to be buried in your reassuring embrace. He watched as you laid in bed in front of him, slowly parting your legs to give him a view on your Venus mount.
“Stay. Do not move Commodus. You will learn that with patience, you can get what you desire, and it tastes even better…” you purred, giggling as he swallowed down. When it came to lust, Commodus was full of eagerness, sometimes not even waiting to be in your private quarters but taking you in some dark corner of a corridor to slide his head under your tunic or chasing the servants out of the kitchen to roughly pound you on the table, loving as you slapped his face in fluster.
You hummed as your caressed your breast with your hands “I have missed your mouth Commodus…your poet lips dancing on my nipples…” you lightly pinched your bosom, letting out a soft moan. He adjusted himself, as if to be closer but he was already pressed against the edge of the bed, his eyes greedily following your fingers, how much he craved that breast. He watched your breathing quicken under excitement, his cock throbbing against his belly.
His eyes trailed down your body, to your glistening entrance, so ready to be tasted, filled. Your hand briefly shielded your pussy from his gaze, hearing a strangled whimper from the Emperor, how could you prevent him from watching you? Oh sweet torture from the wife he adored. He reached to touch himself but retracted his hand, you wouldn’t agree in that moment.
“Good Commodus, excellent…ah..” you moaned, praising him for resisting his impulse, letting him look again as you pleasured yourself, looking at him, your only source of desire, those scarred lips, his round and soft face, those curly raven hair begging to be pulled and those eyes…the most expressive eyes you had ever seen, so deep and passionate, dangerous…
Your pleasure was fast increasing, your pussy quivering with impatience, you even started to struggle with eye contact in fear of reaching your peak already. You kept circling around your soft spot for a bit more until you felt you had reached your limit, just like Commodus whose eyes had become teary with desire, he was panting, it took all his strength to resist you.
“Commodus…how do you feel?” you asked seriously, wanting him to feel the difference, to learn. At first, he seemed confused by your question, then focused, what would have happened if he had followed his impulses? He would be done by now, perhaps regret, understand some mistakes he did, feel relieved but would he be satisfied?
“I feel…powerful, as if I could accomplish the labors of Heracles. I savor the sight of what I have in front of my eyes, memorize every detail, think of the best way to act, how to please…” he answered, understanding what you had taught him, the benefits of patience and he was about to taste it all.
“Good.” you smiled, how beautiful, how fragile and yet how strong he was “Join me, your wife commands you.” You purred, he almost couldn’t believe it and grinned, finally! He quickly jumped onto the bed, closing the gap between you two, his lips crashing against yours, placing himself between your legs, his cock rubbing along your slit. Then, he guided it inside you, moaning loudly as he buried inside you, your fingers grasping his hair needily. His moans were raw, high pitched sometimes, his brows furrowed as if his pleasure had been multiplied, he could finally enjoy the relief of being reunited to his wife, feel your warm embrace around him. His senses were overwhelmed, sharper, he was conscious of every bit around him. He looked at you, smiling a bit among the moans, he understood what you meant. “How wise you are…” he praised devotedly your unusual methods, filling your face in kisses, thrusting passionately, enjoying your hands running on his back until your nail dug into his back, marking him once again with your love.
Soon, you found yourselves laying in each other’s arms, panting with your legs entwinned, your hand playing with the leather string around his neck as his fingertips traced your nipple gently.
“I never thought my marital life would be like this.” He said softly, deep in thoughts, he was at peace, a little smile on his lips.
“How so? Did imagine something radically different?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. You were a stubborn woman who knew what you wanted, you had always imagined a relationship of trust and power.
“Of course. The senators have wives they rarely love and instead countless mistresses. My father and mother was quite the affair…passionate. But she cheated on him one day with a gladiator, he caught them in the act and killed him, as the man laid dead in a puddle of blood, he took my mother again. Not long after…mother died in a military camp. Some say father poisoned her, other say she killed herself. All of this to say that we are not like the couples we see around us. We care and respect each other.” He explained, kissing your inner wrist devotedly “How many men can claim they can sleep with both eyes closed next to their wife? to talk about their political projects or to weep in their arms? You and I are blessed, the gods put you in my path…” he cooed fondly, looking at you in the eyes “No one stands a chance against us, and I lay the Empire at your feet Y/N.”
i’ll always love and respect how jazzed he is in this moment. he’s here, queer, fresh off murdering some twink & riding the thrill of identity theft, top energy oozing out of him into the floorboards, charisma turned up to 11 for his three year gay sex cruise with final destination forever vacation Oahu. this was the only way a poor homosexual could let loose in the mid 1800s.
