#dark!acacius

It had been over 200 years since the atom bombs fell. The nuclear war that changed the globe forever. 200 years of radiation. Starvation. Violence. Factions splintering across the country and still fighting for the scraps of a forgotten world.  A never ending fight for survival that became the new normal for every generation to come. 

War never changes.

Word had spread across the Mojave that the Legion was pushing further West. The relative safeness of the settlements protected by the NCR was eroding. They had fewer soldiers to spare for protection and instead were mobilizing to protect the more important towns bordering the Colorado River and New Vegas.

Sunhollow was not a priority outpost, and the Legion could smell blood in the water. The New California Republic was struggling to hold on to its territory.

They came just before dawn's first light. At least 100 legionaries surrounded Sunhollow and the first wave charged in with spears and machetes. Snipers picked off anyone who tried to flee. Some of the citizens fought back but they were no match for the brutality that the legionaries wielded.

Just four NCR Rangers were stationed there and managed to take down several Legion soldiers with their submachine guns before they were overcome. They were quickly captured. They were gathered at the center of town and burnt alive on the pyres. Frightened townsfolk were slaughtered as they tried to run and their bodies were just left to rot with the rising sun. Everything smelt like death. 

This raid was nothing but a slaughter. The men were either crucified or beaten to death. The youngest children were rounded up and enslaved. The older ones were left to share the same fate as the men. They had already been influenced by the NCR values and could never be indoctrinated into the Legion. It was not worth the risk. Unlike the tribal towns that lived peacefully without the influence of the NCR, no man at Sunhollow was given the choice to pledge their loyalty to the Legion. 

The Legion referred to anyone in the NCR as profligates and used it like a filthy slur. An annoying blight to be removed and the last real opponent in their path to taking over the West. They stole nothing, instead just leaving behind an aftermath of death and blood and fear. Their numbers were growing, and their patience dwindling. Smaller Legion camps like this one had an eagerness to exterminate the outlier towns while final preparations were being made to wipe out the NCR Army once and for all.  

After hearing about the atrocities at the town of Nipton where only one person was left alive, this war has progressed far beyond just disrupting supply lines and taking out NCR soldiers. They wanted to demoralize anyone left standing with the NCR and eliminate anyone who shared their values. 

Personal liberties were not granted in the Legion. Everyone served Caesar and if you were to oppose you would be killed without question. The youngest and newest recruits were always used as front line attackers and many of them knowingly gave their lives for the cause, because it was what they were trained to do. Those who proved themselves were able to move up in the ranks with better weapons and armor. Loyalty was rewarded. This made the fiercest and most competent fighters the best equipped to survive. 

You had learnt all about the Legion while working closely with the NCR Rangers. The only reason you were in Sunhollow was to accompany a trade caravan delivering medical supplies between outposts. You were spending a few nights resting before heading back West. The trade route was relatively safe until recent months and you knew the risks. You could handle yourself with a firearm while the mercenaries took out the big threats. Not this time. You along with everyone else in Sunhollow were not prepared for this.   

Reading pre war books you had a wealth of knowledge on the Roman Empire too. You were fortunate to be raised to understand advanced literacy. While many people only knew how to read and write the bare minimum, it had become something you excelled at and leveraged in your line of work as a merchant. 

A useful skill that at this moment felt incredibly useless. There was no reasoning with legionaries and being an overly educated woman was a threat more than anything. Something to keep to yourself and blend in as a cooperative and docile captive. 

You dropped to your knees in a line with other “lucky profligates” that were temporarily spared. They made you watch the relentless slaughter of the townsfolk. Watching grown men cry and beg for mercy before receiving a beating or a blade to the throat. Your caravan of male colleagues had long been decimated. Being a healthy, young woman was the only thing keeping you breathing for now.  

You gathered that the pair of soldiers with the red plumes fanning across their helmets were the infamous Centurions. Rising to their comfy position because of their proven brutality. Their presence here was an indication that this was more than just a raid. They seemed to be accompanying a more practically dressed legionary administering the fate of the remaining captives. 

He walked back and forth along the row of women with bound hands, denoting many of them ‘unfit’. They were dragged off into the town hall by hungry wolves eager to have their way before taking their lives. Judging by the screams coming from the building, none of it was merciful. 

He didn’t wear a helmet, and his armor was splattered in blood. His machete hung at his hip opposite of his sidearm, adorning his traditional looking black and gold roman armor with nuclear age weaponry. The Legion was known for following the military structure of the ancient Romans, right down to the armor.  

He stood in front of the town hall, presiding over the soldiers assembling more crosses to crucify the remaining men. Observing the newly made slaves who were tossing bodies of their friends into the pyres. He looked tired of it all. Tired of wasting potential resources for the sake of spreading fear and demoralization. You caught the subtle way his expression was less enthusiastic, almost as if he found these immoral deeds repulsive. Or so you imagined. You were desperate for any sliver of hope that could save you at this point.  

Acacius, you heard the other men call him. You deduced he was some sort of higher ranking Legionary. He had a red tunic with gold accents under his armor, making him stand out. His armor was more ornate, too, with a golden Medusa emblem on his chest. Golden claws decorated his pauldrons. The worn, black patina of his armor made him look menacing and regal. 

“Ave, Caesar,” he said as he nodded to some of his men, appearing to give them permission to string up the unlucky souls. They did so without apprehension but his face wore a hint of disgust. It was easy to miss, but you were watching him intently. 

He was older than many of the others. Grey flecks throughout his scruff and his messy, dark curls. Sullen eyes and an aquiline nose. His shoulders were broad and commanding with a more tapered waist. His arms and legs were solid with lean muscles and he exuded power from every angle. His meaty thighs proudly showing  exposed flesh between the pteruges on his skirt and above his leather greaves. Legs that could chase you down in an instant. His body was built to fight and built to win with or without a weapon. 

He carried himself with a confidence that his word was absolute, and to challenge him would be met with his raw strength. Everything about his presence felt powerful and unforgiving. 

He was… handsome. An observation you lamented given the situation. 

He kept evaluating you with intrigue and finding something about you worth keeping around for now. You couldn’t stop trying to sneak a reading on him either. It was a dangerous game, but one you couldn’t seem to withdraw from.   

You also overheard one of the younger soldiers quipping quietly about his leadership. Criticizing him for sparing the lives of profligate women and children. How instead they should be slaughtering everyone to make an example, even the ones that had their uses. His eyes scanned over you as he said the last part with insinuation. 

Acacius apparently heard it too, as it sparked him to take action for mocking his command.  

“Hold your tongue, or you will join these bodies,” he threatened as he brandished his machete and pressed it to the soft flesh under the chin of the mouthy soldier, who cowered back. “You know nothing about building an empire.”

The soldier steadied himself, submitting only to get out of his situation. Even you could see this one was a loose cannon.

“Yes, Acacius,” he conceded with a fake docility.  

“Disobey me again and it will be your last breath.” Acacius stepped forward as he spoke those words and pushed his chin upward with the blade. A trickle of blood ran down his neck as he punctured him with the tip. 

His eyes caught you watching him and his face hardened, hiding any traces of morality as he sheathed his weapon. Your curiosity had overstepped and you had seen too much. 

You looked away, but could still feel him on you for a moment longer. Your gaze dangerously fluttered back to him as if he was willing you to look again. His penetrating glower investigating your misplaced interest in him.     

His body was still running on the adrenaline from the bloody slaughter earlier. Unlike most other men in higher ranks who still had unsullied armor, he was in the thick of it all. Ruthless and leading with brutality. He wasn’t just executing orders. He was an expert killer and didn’t happen to be in his position by accident. He demonstrated his skills in battle, and the snide comment he overheard sparked a primal rage in his core. How dare anyone question him?   

It was a wishful and foolish thought to find any sympathy in the Legion. You try to look away as he steps towards you, bracing for the blade that was sure to follow. 

He grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look him in the eyes. To his surprise, and yours, you met them with prowess. 

His gaze caught the two-headed bear badging on your shoulder. A mark of NCR allegiance. It enraged him.  

“Get up.” he barked. He towered over you as he pulled you up by your bound hands. “Make yourself useful, Profligate whore.” 

Your words stuck in your throat and you were silent. He was going to make a demonstration of his savagery, at your expense. 

–

You could hear some sneers coming from some of the nearby legionaries as he pushed you up the stairs and into the nearby building. They were laughing at your misfortune like savage hyenas as you were being paraded into the lion's den.  

A few more legionaries were inside, forcing themselves on captive women. Out in the open, it didn’t matter to them. They were barbaric. Celebrating their victory with some casual rape and torture. It was abhorrent. They seemed to have more privilege and were able to indulge in their spoils. Their helmets resembled war bonnets, decorated in black and red feathers. Some of them wore red face wraps or darkened goggles, making them look even more menacing. 

Everything about the Legion was so hierarchical and you figured they must be Decanus. Commanders under Acacius. Middle management. Leaders. Dangerous men who got away with too much and still had too much to prove to ascend even higher. At least they were easy enough to pick out.

When they saw Acacius the room tensed. He fanned his hand out to signal that there was no need to stop what they were doing. His silent command was somehow even more intimidating. 

Your chest tightened and you bit your lip to stop it from quivering. This was not a fate you would wish on your worst enemy. 

You turned to face him and tried to plead with a whisper, choking on your words in panic. He ignored you and pushed you into the middle of the room. You fell onto your forearms and knees, grabbing the attention of others who started to eye you like a piece of meat. 

He stood above you like a conqueror and used his foot to turn you on your back to face him. His expression was cold and dutiful. That morality you swore you saw earlier was gone.   

He kneeled down with his legs spread over you and pressed his body up against you. You struggled underneath him, fighting for your life as he caged you in. His hand wrapped around the front of your neck and tightly held it as he leaned over your shoulder. He spoke softly in your ear but with a vulgarity and crudeness that made you shudder. 

“You can be a whore for my men, who will use you up until there is nothing left. Or, you can behave and perform your duty to me as Caesar sees fit.”

You knew what that meant. The only duty women had was to be bred to make more soldiers. You heard the horror stories. Women were not free in the Legion. Nobody was really, but women had it the worst. The healthy and docile ones were relegated to breeders and the old and young used for slave labor. All of them were property to be used by the Legion men whenever they wanted. Anyone not compliant or too smart for their own good was killed. They only needed your body, and nothing more. You were either indoctrinated into the Legion, or your life was taken. 

Your survival instincts kick in as panic courses through your body. You can fight it or you can accept the hand dealt to you. The luxury of living is dangled in front of you with a cruel ultimatum that will likely end in death either way. You know for certain you are not ready to leave this world at the hands of being torn apart and defiled by multiple barbaric men. 

This was just one man. One large, powerful man who was giving you a choice.  

You give him what he wants and signal your obedience by relaxing your body under him. Your heart was hammering out of your chest with an obscene thud and he felt your fear pulsing through your veins. It was turning him on and you felt him swell between his legs.     

The pressure on your throat left you unable to speak and he pushed against you even harder as you struggled to breathe.

“That’s a good girl,” he growled into your ear. 

If you cooperated maybe it could earn you another day to live. Another day to figure out what the hell you were going to do. 

His hand relaxed on your throat as he pulled back to stand up. You gasped for the air you were finally afforded. He stripped your tattered clothes off your body with little effort and flipped you back over onto your stomach.

You lay there, prone and paralyzed with your bound hands outstretched in front of you. Naked and shaking.  

Acacius took off his belt and with it tossed his weapons to the side. He freed his hardness as he stepped out of his underclothes. Crudely, he spit into the palm of his hand and spread it along his cock and kneeled down between your legs.

His leather bracer slid roughly across your skin as he worked an arm under your belly to lift up your hips. He made just enough room to slide his hand over your mound and grab you with a rough hold. Blood and grime was still covering his body and the metallic, earthy smell made you recoil. You winced at the feeling of his filth making contact with you. 

He propped you up on your knees with your forearms supporting some of your weight while he nestled up to the plush of your ass against his hips. His massive form looming behind you made you feel even smaller and more insignificant than you already were. You had zero leverage. 

Your mind was racing. How many women had he taken in this way? How many women had chosen this same fate? How likely was it that after he fucked you he would take pleasure in killing you too?

Those thoughts fell to the wayside as his middle finger abruptly dragged into your slit, gathering your wetness. You didn’t expect your body to be preparing you like it was. Betrayal or gratitude, it made no difference.   

“Mmm” he groaned as he pushed two of his fingers into your hole. “You actually want Legion cock, don’t you?”

His absurd question goes unanswered and you resent your body. 

His rough, gritty digits worked you open and it couldn’t even be considered a poor excuse for foreplay. He wasn’t priming you for a good time. This was about him taking what he wanted, when he wanted and how he wanted. Prying you open so there was as a little resistance as possible when he inevitably drove into you.  

He pinched at your sensitive bud to see if he could draw a sound from you and scoffed when you did, as if to mock you for reacting to his touch. He cupped your mound hard and jammed his fingers back into you, splaying them inside. He teased more pressure on your clit with the heel of his hand until he was convinced you would be able to take him. Whether you were ready or not, he would make it fit regardless. That much you were certain of. 

You could feel his length getting harder against your ass. You tried to calm yourself from the panic that ensued when you realized how massive he really was as he began rutting his hardness against you. Sheathed in a needy, primal rhythm that was picking up tempo.    

Deep breaths. You closed your eyes, focusing on breathing as you hung your head low and braced for what was to come. He tore his hand from you and left you empty for the briefest moment. 

He wasted no time lining up his cock with your slit. The spongy head leading the way for his engorged member. Tapping it against you as he started to rut into you with fervor. Splitting you open with his thick shaft.   

Your eyes went wide and you cried out with a pained mewl. Not only was he denying you time to adjust to his size, but he was so swollen with need. The girth of his cock complimented his broadness all over. The pain from the stretch seared into you like a hot knife. Your eyes tightly shut and tears fell.

He pushed you down into the floor as he fucked you. His hands clawed into your hips, trying to hold you up and pulling you into him until his weight had you pinned under him. The floorboards scraped against your skin each time he pounded into you, making your knees and elbows raw. 

Your hands were clasped together in an iron grip. The rope around your wrists felt like it was getting tighter the more you struggled. 

The rough leather strips of his armored skirt slapped into your skin as he thrusted, drawing his full length out and driving it back in even deeper. Again and again. Forcing himself into you and taking up all available space, greedy to make more room. 

His groans were loud and animalistic. He was overcome by his nature and held nothing back. Pounding into you with ferocity. Each thrust harder and more urgent to lose himself inside you.  

“Please…” you horsley pleaded to him. “Please…” you didn’t know what you were asking for, you just wanted it to be over. 

You turned your head so your cheek was pressing into the floor and tried to gaze up at him. His focus on you was unwavering, boring into your soul. The darkness in his eyes had zero regard for your attempt at thwarting his intensity.

He didn’t let up.

As his cock twitched inside you felt him slow his pace, but not his force. You could feel him starting to come undone as he began knocking at your deepest parts. The tight coil in your belly started to unwind. 

Fuck no, please no. You pleaded to yourself.  

You resented your body for how it started to accept him inside you. Your walls clenched around his heat as he fucked you harder and harder. How could your body betray you so cruelly to give you any semblance of pleasure from such a vile man? The heavy drag of his cock against your ridges stirred something inside that you wanted to bury away, but it clawed itself out.

Despite where you were it felt like everything shrunk away and simplified. It was just two bodies fucking and teetering on the edge of bliss. Allowing your mind to escape into a place where it would be ok. A place where you could give in to the growing heat in your belly and revel in the way it washed over you.  

The pretty moan that escaped your lips was enough to send him over the edge before you could choke it back. He heard you unravel. Your convulsing walls gave you away anyways, and he knew he had you. Squeezing him tightly as something dark and sinister released within.

He grit his teeth and pulsed inside you, drawing from you a whimper. You could feel his hot cum filling you up as he panted, emptying his balls and painting the depths of your cunt with his spend. He fucked it deeper inside you until he finally started to soften and still. 

The room was silent except for his heavy breathing and your despondent sobs.

The tears streamed down your face as he pulled out of you and hovered on all fours over your broken body beneath him. His hand wrapped into your hair as he yanked your head up so your ear was to his mouth.

“You’ll take my cock when I give it to you,” he threatened. “I’ll fuck this profligate cunt until my cum is the only thing left inside you.”

The grip in your hair tightened as he urged you to acknowledge him. His hot breath puffed against your ear with each labored exhale.  

“You hear me?” he snarled. His grip was painful on your scalp and you winced.

“Yes, Ac-” your reply trailed off, not knowing if you should dare say the name you overheard.

“Acacius.” He enunciated boldly.

“Yes, Acacius.”  

Content with your reply, he pushed you back onto the floor. You laid there afraid to move or speak another word. 

He redressed and adorned his weapons. Ignoring you laying there like a discarded plaything he lost interest in. 

Except that, you didn’t know it, but he felt drawn to you in a way that he knew he had to have more of you. You intrigued him in a new way. You weren’t weak like the others, and you were observant. He wanted to challenge your resolve and break your spirit to succumb to him without hesitation. You saw something in him that he tried to hide away. Something inappropriate and unbecoming of a legionary in his position. Your dissolute temptation had to be snuffed out before it took hold on him and yet he couldn’t bring himself to take your life. Not yet. He had to try to tame you first. Fuck it out of you and taste your fruit before it spoiled.

You wondered why you were spared. Surely keeping someone like you alive with strong NCR convictions would be a great risk for the Legion. Maybe he wanted you to tempt him. To challenge him. Maybe it was all a game for him to see if he could turn you to his side. Or maybe he was waiting for you to fuck up so he could have his fun in new ways. 

It was all too much to think about when your fate was teetering dangerously at the hands of the enemy. 

“This one’s mine.” He casually commands to the other men as he walks away from your disheveled body without as much as a glance back. 

Mine. The tone of how he referred to you so nonchalant replayed over and over in your head. What did that really mean for you? 

Whoever he was, he had authority. You felt like you made a deal with the devil. Sold your soul and to what end? 

You could feel him leaking out of you as you shifted to curl your arms against your chest and draw your legs together tightly. You wanted to shrink away and disappear. Wake up from the nightmare.

What the fuck were you going to do now? Was this your life now? To be bred and kept like livestock and bolstering the future generations of Legion until you died? The thought of such a bleak destiny made your head spin and your heart race. 

You lay broken on the floor, catching your breath between tears. Feeling empty where he stretched you open. It was a hard feeling to reconcile. You had no concept of how much time had passed, only that it felt eternal, and you felt alone. Wanting for something that you couldn’t define.   

None of the other legionaries touched you, but you could feel their eyes on your broken body. Feel how much they wanted to. Perverse thoughts and immoral intentions being projected at you with their hungry gaze. Leaving you there vulnerable and subdued felt as much a test to them as it was punishment for you. 

You felt the tiniest comfort inside that you could not quite explain. Not gratitude, but some faded semblance of it. Acacius had been merciful in a twisted way. He stripped you of your dignity and your freedom, but he didn’t give you to the wolves. 

–

One of the decanus commanders came in after some time and approached you assertively. His face was covered up with a red cloth and black goggles, and his helmet was covered in black feathers flowing backwards. He looked ready to run into battle. 

He tossed a garb at you. A plain, linen dress style tunic except for a red X painted on the front. The mark of a legion slave. 

He brandished his knife and reached for your wrists to cut the rope binding your hands. The marks left behind were raw and bloody.  

Without your hands bound it changed very little other than some minor relief. There was no place to run and no way to escape without being hunted down in an instant. If you didn’t get picked off by a bullet, one of the mongrels would make quick work of you. Even if you somehow managed to get away, you would die in the Mojave with no supplies. Your hands were more useful to them being untethered and put to work. You weren't going anywhere.    

With your new found freedom you threw the dress to the side and turned away from him, wrapping your arms around your knees to withdraw the best you could. Was he expecting you to be grateful for something to cover up with? You’d rather be naked than wear those dehumanizing rags. 

What came next caught you off guard.  

The sting of his hand on your cheek shocked you. He had backhanded you, holding back nothing. The delayed pain came with a vengeance and your eyes welled up with tears. 

“Put it on and get outside with the others. We’re leaving.” 

You did.

– 

You and the few other women left were all given the same modest garbs to wear. Easy access for the taking whenever they wanted to. The thought made your stomach churn. They didn’t even give you proper footwear. You were expected to march with what were essentially socks.

You didn’t speak to the other women and they didn’t speak to you. They were all behaving compliantly. In shock from the neverending atrocities. Shells of their former selves. They had been broken too, just as you were. You didn’t know any of them from your short stay at Sunhollow and that realization further exemplified the feeling of truly being alone.

You were rounded up between two formations of soldiers and followed in line with the others as you moved out. You were given supplies to carry and you wondered how your body could possibly manage this for miles. It did, because there was no other choice. 

The sight of the pyres and burning buildings reminded you how Sunhollow would be forever transformed into a desolate graveyard. Inhabitable and soon the scraps would be picked over by raiders until nothing remained but bones and ashes.

You only saw Acacius from a distance. He had cleaned up since your last encounter with him, no longer covered in blood and his armor polished. He had a crimson cape draped over his pauldrons and was positioned to the front of the march. He looked regal and intimidatingly powerful.

He was leading the Legion onward to the next place to destroy. Legionaries near him were holding red banners with the signet of the bull. Anyone within eyesight of them wouldn’t dare intervene with their march. The Legion’s reputation for cruelty and brutality made them feared by everyone.

An unexplained pit formed in your stomach. He felt so far away and unreachable. While it should be a good thing to get as far away from him as possible, somehow it felt wrong. Dangerous even. It was hard to reconcile with the way you felt. 

You were safer with him than without. 

Crucified bodies lined the street as you were led away from your past life. Walking towards an uncertainty. You wondered if you would be better off to be strung up like them. At least their battle was over… until you noticed a few of them still breathing and left to die in the sun with a slow and agonizing death.   

You followed in line with the others, silent and defeated. Marching onward with strangers to an unknown future. 

–

It didn’t take long for your intuition to be proven right.

After a full night and day of walking across the Mojave with minimal rest, the army made a proper camp for the night. Basic tents were quickly setup along with fires to cook food and stay warm. Everything was done with efficiency like a well oiled machine.

The tents were basic and simply used for sleeping quarters. No comforts other than a bedroll. A place to rest with a fabric roof over their heads. Everybody was beyond exhausted and quickly off to sleep after eating. A few guards stood on the outskirts to keep watch, but for the most part, it was quiet. Almost peaceful with the stars above looking extra bright in the night sky. 

You recognized where you were from your extensive time on the road with the caravan. You were following the Colorado river, and heading closer and closer towards New Vegas; the heart of the Mojave. The place where sooner or later the big showdown between the Legion and NCR Army would come to a head. Hoover Dam and New Vegas were the big points of contention, and you had been strategically distancing yourself as things escalated. Now, that was completely unavoidable. 

You and the other captives were left out in the open surrounded by tents in the cold, night air. The only comfort was the rags you were laying on and letting your feet rest. You were exhausted, and barely had time to think about it before falling asleep.

You were startled awake when you felt a cold blade graze your cheek. 

Your eyes fluttered open and you started to panic and let out a shriek until the man pressed his knife across your throat, daring you to make another sound. If anyone else woke up, they pretended not to see anything. 

“You think you’re special, don’t you? Well, I’m gonna see what’s so special about you myself.”

His eyes were blown out, black with evil intention.  It was this time you recognized this was the same soldier that was mouthing off about Acacius earlier. You had humiliated him without meaning to, and he wasn’t going to let that go. 

“No profligate is worth keeping alive, even if she’s a looker.” His tongue wet his lips and your face contorted in disgust. He was a repulsive man. 

The soldier was reaching his arm up your dress and you didn’t dare move a muscle with your throat a hairline from being slit. You tightly closed your eyes and heard a loud blast. A gunshot. Hot liquid splattered on your face. Blood. 

Acacius came out of the shadows and silenced the legionnaire with a single bullet to the back of his head. 

His lifeless body fell to the ground with his hand still resting on your inner thigh. Running his mouth had, yet again, been his downfall. Alerting Acacius who was restless in his nearby tent, and masking his footsteps.

Your heart was pounding with adrenaline from the close call, and gratitude for your savior. You looked him in the eyes and they were dutiful. He was protecting his spoils on the outside, but you saw a glimmer of fear in his eyes if he had been too late.   

Acacius dragged the body off of you and spit on his fresh corpse after he said something disapproving in a latin tongue. His insolence had reached its limit, and his now dead body was left there as a reminder that insubordination had consequences. 

The commotion at this point had awoken several of the men. The prying eyes of the obedient soldiers accompanied silence. They knew better. That soldier had it coming and Acacius had swiftly ended that incident.

You locked eyes with Acacius again, and he simply nodded towards his tent and turned on his heels. 

You got up to follow him, trailing behind like a lost puppy as he went back to his tent. A modest, semi-private cloth housing with nothing but a bedroll and a few supply crates. The thin door covering did nothing for sound but it provided the tiniest privacy from prying eyes.

His armor was laid near his bedroll along with his weapons. He tossed his sidearm in the pile and raked his hand down his face. He was wearing just his red tunic and looked so much more vulnerable; unarmed and frustrated. 

You feared following him to his tent was overstepping, but your adrenaline high from the recent assault made you do it anyway. 

“Thank you,” you gazed down, afraid to see his reaction as you approached. Afraid he would disapprove of you speaking to him. 

He reached towards you cupping your chin and forcing you to look up at him while he pulled you in closer.

“No one is going to take what’s mine. Nothing more than that.”

There it was again. Mine. 

His words were dismissive of what this really meant to you, but you could see through him. Now in a more private setting without the eyes of his subordinates he didn’t have to put on an act. There were cracks and an opportunity for you to explore his true intentions. Was he claiming you just for the sake of control or was there something more? He seemed brash on the surface, but underneath maybe you could strip away the noise and see what kind of a person he really was. 

He let go of your chin and pulled a rag out from a water bucket by his feet. He wrang out the excess and held your face against the palm of his hand while he wiped the cloth across your cheek. The bridge of your nose. The other side. Wiping away the blood of the man who dared to touch you. He was being gentle. Tender, even. He wasn’t making eye contact, focused instead of brushing away the filth.

You watched him intently. Impossible to read, but you couldn’t deny your intuition. He had a guilty aura about him. Guilty for what the man tried to do to you, or sympathetic for bringing you into this cruel world to begin with. You were going to find out.  

“Clean yourself up,” he said quietly as he handed the rag to you to finish the job. You could feel the blood still sticking on your skin and imagined you must be a sight. 

You kneeled next to the bucket and washed your skin the best you could, relishing in the cool kiss of the water's touch.  

Acacius groaned as he sat on one of the supply crates, using it like a chair. His posture was so tired and almost docile. It was hard to imagine he had just killed a man with zero remorse. Unphased by taking a life. 

What overcame you was that same undefined feeling you had earlier. You wanted to be closer to him, and give him a reason to want you close. While he had just saved you, you had only narrowly escaped. 

You crawled on your knees in front of him, slowly and with an eagerness to thank him. His tired eyes narrowed on you as kneeled between his legs.  

You reached for the hem of his tunic and found his cock half-hard. You gazed up at him with glossy eyes. 

“Let me thank you properly.” You paused with apprehension.

His cock twitched at your offer but he kept his face stern. It was hard to read him and know if you were overstepping or if this would be condoned. You swallowed back your hesitancy and pushed on, hoping for his approval.

You slid your hands up his thighs and pushed back his tunic all the way to his belly so you could have unobstructed access. You opened your mouth and let your tongue poke out, giving his tip a lick and placing a kiss. It was almost playful. You weren't sure what came over you, but you embraced it when he stifled a sound that you recognized. A pleasurable groan. 

Of course any man would enjoy this act, but this was a man that was used to taking. Not this unsolicited softness you were bestowing on him.  

He tangled his hand in your hair and urged you in closer, using his other hand to hold his cock steady at the base.

“Knew you’d be a good girl for me,” he said with a low and breathy voice. The praise from his words made that darkness inside you stir again. You wanted his praise.  

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, lapping gently at his leaking slit and relishing his flavor. You could sense his body was tired and resigned to letting you do all the work. It felt like a test too, to see how much you would do without him forcing you. See how much you wanted him and how far you would take this on your own volition.  

You took in more and more of his length, letting your tongue lick up the underside of his cock and feeling it stiffen even more. You were just now able to really marvel at its size. He was thick and weighty with a slight curve to the left. You traced the prominent vein that trailed along his shaft with your tongue, pulsing under your touch. You were getting sloppier with your mouth as he was getting harder and it was becoming a lot more to handle than you were used to.

The tightness in your core was starting to wind up. A heat spreading that called for attention you tried to push aside.    

Your hands left the tops of his thighs briefly to reach for his balls. They too were hefty and he stifled another moan as you worked them with your fingertips. He seemed to really enjoy that and you had a mind to give them more attention with your mouth if he didn’t have such a grip on you already.

He was fully hard now and jerked into you, losing some control. You relaxed your throat enough to let him thrust inward. Your hands returned to his legs to brace yourself as he bucked a little too hard and you gagged on his cock. The throaty groan he made watching you struggle was heavy with arousal.

“Easy. Take me nice and slow,” he ordered. It was easier said than done when he was the one bucking into you. He brushed his thumb to push back your hair and you melted at his tenderness and how his hands engulfed you effortlessly. 

You relaxed as best you could, taking in more and more of him. Both of his hands were twisted in your hair now, pulling your head to bob on his length slowly. He wasn’t holding you tightly, but you could feel his fingers curl into your scalp when you hollowed your cheeks.   

You looked up at him and saw his mouth parting open slightly. His eyes were intently locking with yours. He was submitting to your tongue in a way that felt new for him. Relinquishing some control even if it was just for a moment. 

You savored the pearly beads of precum that trickled out and wanted to receive more. His musky, sweaty scent combined with the saltiness of his taste made it all feel so raw and primal. 

Seeing your mouth stuffed full with his cock made him twitch even more and you could tell he was getting close. He was trying to pull you off of him slowly. You sucked the tip hard and it made a wet pop as it released from your lips.

It was turning you on too, and you could feel how wet you were getting between your legs. You initially just wanted to placate him, but it felt like it was becoming so much more. You wanted him to spill into your mouth so you could drink him down. Hear the way he moaned when you sucked him dry. It was a thirst that overtook your reasoning and you mouthed his tip again in defiance.  

There was a shift in his energy. That dutiful look returned as he fought against your needy mouth. 

“Not wasting my cum in your throat.” His words came out biting but heavy with need. Reminding you of your role to play. 

He yanked you off sharply and pulled you up to straddle his lap. Sitting over his meaty thighs he hooked his hand behind your back to hold you in place. You reached your arms out to hang off of his shoulders.

He grabbed the base of his cock and dragged the head along your swollen clit. He was already wet from your spit, but he gathered your slick for good measure. You moaned when he pressed into your clit and you caught the way he looked so pleased with himself. He was studying how your mouth gaped from his touch.

“Needy thing you are,” he groaned, low enough that you wondered if he meant to say it out loud.   

You were good and ready, and he wasn’t interested in waiting any longer to get his release. He pulled you down hard on his length, filling you to the hilt in one motion and looking you dead in the eye when he did it. Watching you gasp at the stretch and your eyes widened. You were so needy for his cock and it felt right having him inside you again. The pain from the sudden invasion inside your body was overtaken by euphoria. The emptiness finally being soothed. 

He held you like that for a moment and you wanted to beg him to move. You needed that friction to alleviate your aching hunger. He needed it too, but he was enjoying seeing you get impatient for his cock. You could feel him swell inside you and in this seated angle he nestled inside you even deeper.  

“Acacius…” you whined and tried to lift up on his shaft but he held you still. He pressed his thumb into your clit and rubbed. Holding you down, impaled on his cock; unmoving. Making you start to convulse on him and moan under his touch.  

“You’re gonna let me do what I want,” he said as his thumb’s motion intensified. “And I’m going to fill you with my cum.” More pressure on your clit. “Again.” Another circle. “And again.” Harder this time. “And again.” 

The pleasure blooming was becoming too much and he knew he had you.

“And you're going to be begging me for it.” With those words he thrust into you, teasing the release you were chasing.

You let out a whimper and tried to speak, but your words were swallowed up by your moans. He thrust again. 

“Fuck. Acacius… yes. I want..” he thrusted again “..want you to fill me.”

He hammered into you and the drag of his cock against your walls combined with the pressure on your clit was too much. Your orgasm washed over you in a way you never experienced before. A crescendo throughout your body, overtaking your flesh and soul. Clenching him and begging for him to cum. 

His seed blasted into you and you felt him filling you up. His heat seeped into you as he groaned. There was so much, filling you deliciously with his cum, just as he promised. 

He left you there for a moment, his cock slowly softening inside you but still plugging you up so nothing could escape while you caught your breath.

As the high of your orgasm began to fade it left you with a mix of emotions. Fucked out of your mind and also terrified of what you were getting yourself into. You knew he ultimately wanted to impregnate you, and you knew that you never wanted to bring children into this fucked up world. Still, the deep seeded fear of getting pregnant faded away when he was filling you so perfectly. He was right, you were going to be begging for it, and that future terrified you. 

It also felt like a problem for another day. Right now, you had to live in the moment and figure out how you were going to make it to tomorrow. As you began to fall for Acacius, you were certain of one thing. Keeping him content was your only chance.     

The tent was quieter now with you still in his lap and your shared breathing calming to an even rhythm. You didn’t want to leave his side. With him you were safe. He wasn’t going to hurt you, and he certainly wouldn’t let anyone else touch you if there was a chance you were carrying his child. It made you feel sickened to think of another potential life as armor, but it was the reality you were living in.   

“Can I stay here with you tonight?” You asked, sheepishly.

There was something you could not shake about Acacius. While his words and actions were cruel and despicable on the outside, something about him seemed shaken. A legionary who showed any sort of wavering would be killed without question. Loyalty to Caesar was above all paramount. He had no choice on how to conduct himself in the eyes of the other Legion soldiers.   

But you saw something in his eyes. Unexplainable but tangible. Something that gave you just enough hope that he wasn’t as evil as you thought. Maybe he was different after all. Maybe he was redeemable. Maybe he just needed someone like you to help him see the Legion for what it truly was. 

You had to try.   

“Not letting you out of my sight.” 

To be continued… (Chapter 2)

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A chill danced over the bare flesh of your shoulders when the silk sheet was ripped from your body. Your eyes snapped open and you quickly sat up on the bed; you had only let your guard down for a few minutes, just long enough to lightly doze, but now all your senses were alert and tense. You craned your neck to look around the darkened room, your panicked vision impaired by the unfamiliarity of your surroundings.

You gasped when your eyes settled on him standing at the end of the bed. His burly figure seemed so tall and ominous, the scowl of his rugged face partially shroud in the shadows created by the moonlight pouring in from the balcony. His dark brown eyes bored into yours, baleful and stony. The white gown wrapped around his form, leaving his torso half naked, his burly chest and solid arms on display. The greying curls of his hair appeared slicked, like he had just freshly showered.

"I saved you from the miserable existence as a prisoner of war. But do not be so naive as to think that I have spared your life out of the goodness of my heart." His voice was deep and rumbling, with a stern firmness that left no room for argument. "For I am not famed for my kindness."

You knew that. There was not a shred of kindness or humanity shown when General Acacius and his army had invaded your village just yesterday. They had slaughtered almost everyone before burning the township to the ground. The general had found you himself, cowered in an alleyway between a cluster of homes, and he dragged you to the makeshift camp where the prisoners of war were held. He had ordered his men to not touch you. After the army had transported the survivors of your village to Rome he had personally sought you out from the crowd and whisked you away from the city prison. He brought you to his quarters without saying a word to you, and instructed his servants to bathe, feed and clothe you.

You had been so traumatised by what you witnessed during the conquest of your village that you hadn't fought. You hadn't begged for freedom. You had simply wept, silent in your despair, wishing you had been shot in the heart with an arrow, just as your sister had. You hadn't the clarity to understand just why the general had taken you.

Until now.

"I saved you because I have use for you." General Acacius stepped around the massive ornamented bed frame that you sat upon, his intense gaze never leaving you. "I have chosen you to be my mistress."

Tears welled in your eyes and you shook your head slowly, disbelief robbing you of speech. Acacius came to stand at the side of the bed, towering over you. He shrugged off the white night robe and unwound the material from around his hips. As he moved you could see the scars marring his skin, the definition of his thick muscles as they flexed. Your heart drummed inside your chest.

"All that is required of you is to be a wet hole for me. You will remain in this room, and you will please me whenever and however I wish. "

"No," you croaked, your throat dry and hoarse.

The remaining length of his robe dropped to the floor, revealing the soft middle of his stomach, the solid meat of his thighs and the intimidating sight of his thick cock, already half hard. You gasped and pushed yourself to the other side of the bed, panic coursing through your body.

"You have been given the honour of being my mistress," Acacius snapped. "And now you will thank me for being so merciful."

"No!" You cried out, scrambling to stand up from the bed and try run. You hadn't even placed your feet on the ground before he sprang into action, tackling you face up onto the mattress. You yelped as he pinned you down, his thighs straddling your hips while one large hand wrapped loosely around the your neck, completely immobilising you. You could feel the heat of his skin radiate through the thin night dress you wore, as well as the erect length of his cock jutting against your mound. Your panicked eyes locked with his smouldering gaze.

"There is no where for you to run," Acacius sneered. "There is nothing for you outside of these walls. This is where you belong now."

Your body quaked with fear, warm tears streaming from your eyes as you stared up at the powerful older man. You couldn't believe this was your fate; just yesterday morning you lived a peaceful life tending to the village crops, and now you were to be held captive as the general's sex slave. You turned your face to the side and cried helplessly.

"You will come to appreciate your good fortune. Until then I suggest you do as I say."

You felt Acacius's other hand skim over your thigh up to your hip, his calloused palm prickling over the smooth material of your dress. He gripped a bunch of the fabric and tugged it upward, exposing your bare cunt.

"Spread your legs," he ordered.

You ignored him, your body wracking with muted sobs, head still turned away. He let out a growl of irritation and squeezed tighter around your throat, a warning.

"Do not test my patience, woman. Spread your legs."

You quickly parted your legs and he slotted himself inbetween them, the expanse of his hips and thighs keeping you spread wide. The head of his cock slapped against your naked mound.

"Good girl," he cooed. "Now look at me. I want to see your eyes when I split you open."

You choked out a scared sob but summoned the courage to tilt your face to look at him. It was the first time you had come face to face with the ruthless conquerer, the man who was renowned for decimating cities and slaughtering innocent civilians on behalf of the Roman empire. Trapped beneath him like a hare caught in a snare, so close you could smell the sweet wine on his breath, you could properly absorb the features of his face; the crinkles around his eyes, the scar on his cheek and on the bridge of his nose, the chilling hunger that swirled in his dark eyes.

General Acacius was undoubtedly a handsome man, but his looks did little to assuage your terror. You knew the violence he was capable of, had heard the nightmarish rumours of women and girls raped and enslaved by the empire. You needed to comply, lest you make your fate any more abysmal.

"There you go," he crooned, hunger and something wicked swimming in his intense stare. "Such a pretty mistress you are."

Acacius released his hold on your neck and reached down to fist his dick. He pressed the tip against your puffy lips and the heat made your whole body jolt. Your hands tangled in the silk sheets underneath you with anticipatory dread.

He angled the tip against your hole and then drove his hips forward to penetrate you, but his attempt was met with resistance. You were too dry and he was too big.

He grunted, annoyed, and sat up on his knees. He brought his hands to your pussy and spread your lips open with his thumbs, making your stomach roil with shame. He pursed his lips and spat a wad of saliva right at the entrance of your cunt before spreading it around with one of his thick digits.

"Please," you whispered tearfully, a plea for some kind of leniency. "Stop."

Acacius ignored you, focusing instead on holding his cock to press once more against your hole. You were too scared to watch, your muscles tensed for the imminent pain; he had not prepared you with his fingers, had not even tried to work you open, and you knew it was going to hurt.

When he propelled his hips forward and the fat head breached your entrance you let out a shriek of pain. Acacius lowered his front down to hover over you, one hand planted by your head. His eyes flickered back up to your face, your eyebrows knitted into a wince.

"Keep your eyes on me," he growled.

You obeyed and forced yourself to meet his deviant gaze, your bottom lip trembling. He sunk his tip further inside you, a satisfied groan rumbling through his chest at the pleasurable sensation of your tight heat enveloping him. Your stomach tensed and you cried out, fisting the silk sheets tightly in your grip.

"How long has it been since you have had a man take you?" Acacius purred.

Without warning he thrust half of his fat length into you with one forceful stroke. Your back bowed and a scream ripped from your throat, the burning stretch of his girth agonising. The corner of his mouth quirked into a smirk at your reaction. The hint of cruel delight in his expression caused a fresh set of tears to well in your eyes.

"I thought all you village girls were sluts," he whispered. "But you are so tight - perhaps you have not laid with a real man before."

You hadn't yet adjusted to the fullness invading your insides before he rammed the rest of his thick cock into your pussy. Your mouth fell open as you wailed a loud, ear piercing cry, your hands flying up to press against his broad chest in a futile survival reflex. You felt the skin around your hole tear as his heavy ballsack pressed against your ass.

"Struggle all you like," Acacius murmured, unfazed by your torment. "I enjoy a fight."

He slowly withdrew halfway from your throbbing pussy before impaling you once again, earning another anguished cry from your lips. His hand came up to sweep a lock of your hair from your face, an almost tender gesture.

"Is it too big for you?" He asked, his eyes adopting a look of faux concern. "Does it hurt?"

You sobbed and nodded your head pitifully, tears still pooling within your eyes. Acacius cradled your cheek in the large palm of his strong hand and brushed his thumb over your lips. This time he drew back his hips all the way, slipping the head of his dick outside of your hole. It was only a split second reprieve before he fed the entirety of his dick back inside you with a single brutal slam. Your face contorted with pain and you let out a strangled screech. Your nails clawed at his chest like a weak kitten.

"Beg me," he growled, his brown eyes glinting with cold blooded intensity. "Beg me to stop, just as your people did when I slaughtered them like pigs ."

His vile demand repulsed you, flaring a flicker of defiance and anger deep within you. The general had destroyed your home and murdered your people, had ruined your life with not an ounce of remorse, and now he was defiling not only your body but your pride and honour.

You refused to give him the satisfaction of begging for his mercy.

Boldly you flung your head to the side and clamped your mouth shut. You heard him huff a noise of aggravation before he cruelly dug his fingers into the sensitive flesh of your cheek and wrenched your face back to him.

"You will speak when I demand you to," he snapped angrily.

To punctuate his point Acacius began to drive his cock in and out of your cunt with savage, punishing thrusts, his hand still gripping the side of your face. Your vision blotted with stars each time his tip kissed your cervix.

"Do you understand me?" He spat, his mouth curled into a snarl. "As my mistress you will submit to me, without argument and without insolence."

His opposite hand grabbed at your breast and squeezed hungrily, using the added leverage to pump you even harder.

"It hurts," you managed to croak, throat cry from weeping so much.

Acacius yanked the top of your night dress down and roughly pinched your nipple. You squealed and writhed uselessly, unable to escape his grasp with his cock still impaling you.

You swear you could feel the lips of your pussy bruising with every stroke, the contraction of your pelvic muscles with every heavy smack of his balls. Your hip joints started to ache from the pressure forcing your legs apart. He was everywhere all at once, violating each one of your senses.

"If you refuse to submit, I will make it my mission to break you each time I fuck you."

He abruptly stopped his movements and pulled out of you before effortlessly manhandling you onto your stomach. Despite his age and size Acacius was agile and swift, able to utilise his strength effectively without being slowed down by his mass. You squeaked in shock, completely dazed by the change of position and the feeling of emptiness in your core.

He knelt between your legs and shoved his cock back inside you, too impatient and uncaring to gather more saliva to lubricate you. The stinging stretch made you hiss and grit your teeth in pain. Acacius caged your back with his massive body, restraining you against the mattress. He wrapped one arm around your neck, cradling your head in the crook of his bicep, while his other hand grabbed a hank of your hair.

"I am going to give you a taste of just how wretched this can be for you," he breathed in your ear. "Then we will see if you still dare to defy me."

He resumed his ferocious rhythm from behind, the new angle so intense and deep that that you swear you could feel his cock churning in your guts. He grunted and panted like a feral animal as he fucked you, pulling guttural groans from you that sounded more like a beast than a human woman. Your eyes rolled back in your skull.

"This is how whores are treated when they are disobedient. Do you like being used like this?"

The onslaught of his desecration became more intense with each tortuous second. With your body smothered underneath his weight and your neck locked in his strong bicep, you struggled to breathe. Your head began to swim and your lips tingled. Your tongue felt heavy and swollen in your mouth. You felt yourself teetering on the precipice of unconsciousness.

Perhaps this was your fate, to die not by the general's sword but by his cock.

As you started to slip away from reality your imagination projected dream like images inside your mind; you could see your family going about their day to day life in the village, a montage of the mundane happenings that had encapuslated your once peaceful existence.

Your mother in the kitchen with your baby brother on her hip, trying her best to prepare a meal. Your father and younger brother toiling in the fields, harvesting crops alongside other villagers, including the man who was to become your husband. Your older sister sitting with her friends and weaving baskets together.

You could finally be reunited with your loved ones.

Just as you were about to pass out Acacius shifted his arm and loosened his hold on your throat, finally allowing you to inhale some much needed air. Your eyes flew open wide and you let out a rasping howl as you were suddenly brought back to your current state of agony. Pain immediately assaulted all your senses. The delicate skin around your entrance was torn and throbbing, irritated further by the scratch of his wiry pubic hair. The ache of your pelvic muscles was made worse by the constant prod of his dick against your cervix. Your scalp seared from the pull of his fist in your hair, the discomfort flaring when he gave your head a rough shake.

"Have you had enough?" Acacius sneered tauntingly.

He continued to snap his hips against yours, his veiny girth pummelling in and out of you, balls clapping loudly against your labia. A ragged, miserable scream clawed it's way up your parched throat, a pathetic sound of distress and defeat.

It was too much to bear.

"Are you ready to beg?"

You could go on no longer.

"Y-yes," you spluttered inbetween broken moans. "Please."

"Louder." He ordered simply, slightly breathless from his exertion yet his pace never faulting.

"I b-beg you," you gasped. "P-please stop." Salty tears cascaded down your puffy cheeks and intermingled with your snot before trickling into your mouth, stinging the cracks along your swollen lips.

Acacius gave a sharp thrust and buried his cock to the hilt, sinking himself so deep inside your battered cunt that you feared your stomach would rip open.

You screamed again, all of your limbs vibrating uncontrollably. "I beg you!"

He stilled, keeping his fat appendage nestled snugly in you. You felt it pulse momentarily.

"There we go," he murmured silkily, smug intonation clear in his voice.

You cried loudly, unabashed and ugly, completely devoid of pride or dignity. His massive hand moved to smear your mucus and tears across your face, rubbing your shame all over your skin with his palm and fingers.

"You will be the prettiest whore in all of Rome. And you will only be mine."

Notes: This is a Fallout/Acacius crossover mini-series set during the events of Fallout New Vegas. You do NOT need to be familiar with Fallout to read this series. Huge thank you to my beta readers @thedilfdiaries and @handsywoman. Endless love and gratitude to you both!

Series Masterlist | Notifs | AO3

Each night you had laid with Acacius, but it was impersonal and transactional. He fucked you raw and let you sleep in his bed after. This was the only generosity he showed you. He was not unkind to you. He was indifferent and distracted. Cold. His mind seemed distant and elsewhere and his interactions with you were brief. The toll of leadership weighed heavy on him. 

It left you with a desire that was undefined. A want to quell his malaise. Difficult to do when he was only keeping you around for your physical qualities.

Despite the abhorrent way you came to be in his company, you found yourself wanting him all the same. Unsure if it was some sort of debt you felt you owed him that was driving your feelings. Maybe it was just a primal feeling he had awoken in you. Stripping away all the modern comforts life had afforded you up until this point and all that you had now was servitude to Acacius. Maybe this was just how the Legion broke its women. Maybe it was working more than you knew.     

He had no interest in conversing with you, beyond giving a command. It didn’t stop you from trying, but he kept everything brief. His body was worn and his mind weary, and you witnessed how he deceptively presented himself to others to cover it all up. In the privacy you shared with him at night, he was tired. Troubled. He welcomed your touch that you gave him willingly, but gave you only security in return. 

You swore you could see it inside him, trying to claw itself out. When he held you tightly in his sleep, uninhibited by the wall he put up to guard himself. You could feel it. He was protecting himself. Trying not to get attached. 

He was keeping you at a distance and you kept trying to inch a little closer. You were starting to worry that you had miscalculated and he was withdrawing. He was possessive over you and that was growing more and more each day. He manifested the feelings he was burrowing away into something he could wield. Control. 

He kept his word and didn’t let you wander far from his sight. You were always nearby and he kept one of his guards by your side. Your cooperation afforded you the freedom from carrying anything too heavy and he outfitted you with some proper footwear. You had to navigate some judgmental glares from the other Legionaries. It was no secret that he was fucking you and that you were getting special treatment, but no one dared to question it. It didn’t stop them from giving you nasty looks when Acacius was preoccupied.  

After fires were started and meals prepared, he always led you to his tent. Tired bones didn’t stop him from having his way with you. He was rough, but never hurt you. It became the one thing you looked forward to. He would fuck you, overload you with pleasure and fill you with his cum. He would hold you until morning. 

You were safe. It was simpler for you to let go of the life before and embrace what you had now. At least try to let go.  

One night you were reading a book he had kept by the bedside when he was up late looking at maps and making plans. He was agitated and had not touched you yet. This was the first time you really recognized how conditioned you were to your arrangement. How much you needed him. You wanted to climb into his lap. Grind against him and make him moan. Despite it all, your body had started to crave the way he filled you. He was rough but damn did he know how to use his cock and leave you wanting it again and again.

Reading helped keep your mind off the aching you had for him, but it also invigorated that curiosity your brain always had for knowledge. Replacing one vice with another. 

You innocently made a comment about the ancient Romans, drawing some parallels to the Legion in the pages of history. He was no fool to your intelligence, but he needed to remind you of your place. You were becoming too casual in his company. As soon as the words left your tongue you knew you messed up and he was in no mood for the discipline you needed, but now it was unavoidable. 

“You wanna get yourself killed?” he snapped at you, and you recognized his rage was coming from a place of concern. It didn’t make it any less formidable. 

He shut it firmly with a disapproving glare as he tossed it to the side, and then punished you. You apologized profusely but it was in vain. He made you promise not to do it again. Not to question or try to understand things deemed unfit for women. Legion women. His intensity on the matter filled you with regret and fear.

He pushed you down and dropped to his knees, straddling your waist. He reached his hand between your legs and grabbed your cunt as he hovered over you. 

“This is all you need to worry about,” he snarled. You could feel his hardness prod against you while his fingers slotted through your folds. A wave of arousal and adrenaline rolled over you, but this was different. This time, he wasn’t so nice. He had an intensity in his eyes that quickly turned into something more sinister. 

The predator and prey dynamic was a turn-on for him, as it was that first time he broke you. He was giving in to it again seeing you so helpless and trapped beneath him. A primal desire took over and he had to be inside you. 

Flipping you onto your belly, he pressed you into the bedroll, splitting you open on his cock in one motion, forcing his way in with no preparation.  

He held your mouth shut with his hand, silencing you as you cried out. He was too big and it was too sudden. It was all you could feel and you were overwhelmed with the piercing sting from stretching you. A pain you would have welcomed if he gave you even an ounce of mercy. 

Feeling your walls squeeze him with each thrust, he pounded into you harder. Rougher. Snarling to force himself deeper and deeper. Your muffled screams and sobs vibrated into his hand and just made him go that much further. He wanted to remind you that your place was under him. 

The way you squirmed while being impaled by his cock got him that much more aroused. He enjoyed the fight in you that he brought out with each push of his hip.

He sat back and picked you up so your back was flush with his chest and continued to drive into you. His hand was still covering your mouth, oppressing your only means to let out your anguish. Tears flowed down your cheeks and ran over his knuckles. He did not let up or take pity on your whines. He just fucked you harder, panting through gritted teeth while you gasped for breath.

When he finally unloaded deep inside you he filled you to the brim. He held you tightly until his spend was leaking out of your cunt as he softened. Coming down from his frenzy and now there was a heavy veil of remorse in the air. He knew he had taken it too far.

He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head as he pulled his cock out of you. It was unexpected but not unwelcome. The first time he ever was so tender with you. It felt like atonement, permeating out of him along with his guilt for losing control.

After, he laid down next to you and held you so tightly and you could almost mistake his possessive embrace as an apology. Almost. 

“I’m sorry.” you whispered hoarsely. Fearful that you would no longer be in his good favor. Afraid that you were not going to survive much longer and your time was running out.  

He held you tighter and soothingly ran his hand down your side. He didn’t have to say it, but you both knew he was sorry too. 

– 

The remainder of the night and the days that followed were spent in silence. Your body was sore and bruised and you did not dare speak to him. He left you alone beyond his constant watch and kept you in his bed at night. He didn’t force himself on you again and just resigned to hold you. He knew he had gone too far and was giving you respect. For now. You were comforted to recognize that he did have a conscience after all. 

After marching across the Mojave Wasteland you were finally approaching a large Legion encampment, tucked away along the Colorado River. 

On that final night of your trip, Acacius broke the silence when he laid in bed with you. He was exhausted and troubled and it filled you with concern. Something heavy was on his mind.  

“When we arrive at The Fort tomorrow, be obedient and be silent in his presence. No matter what.” The weight of his arm curled over you as he pulled your body to line up against his chest. You felt safe in his arms despite his cautionary words. “I will take care of it.”

You didn’t know what he was referring to, but you agreed. 

You wanted to ask him so many questions. You wanted to know what your fate would be and what was ahead of you. His embrace gave you the courage to speak your biggest fear. 

“Are they going to kill me?” the question fell off your tongue and you felt his grip tense on you as if you went a step too far.    

“Just keep your mouth shut or there is nothing I can do for you.”

In that moment you felt the weight of his words. Tears streaked down your face and you quietly cried yourself to sleep.

You had to put your full trust in him. He was, after all, the devil you knew. 

—

On the next morning as you approached the encampment, the tension in the air was palpable. 

This place, “The Fort” he had called it, was no ordinary Legion outpost. It was massive and sprawling with legionaries. Despite its massive size it was tucked away so perfectly right under the NCR’s noses. You wondered if they would even stand a chance against the Legion’s sheer size. Thousands of men prepared to fight and die. It was all they trained for and their lack of ties to anything beyond the fight is what made them even more deadly. 

Unlike the NCR, who still held onto many traditions of the old world. Things that made them weak and dysfunctional compared to this army that was bred for nothing else. Even with their technology and weaponry it wouldn’t be enough to outlast the magnitude of foot soldiers.     

Then you noticed you started thinking of the NCR as them. Not you. Not anymore. The realization of it made you feel nauseous.

You kept your chin up and trusted that Acacius would protect you. It felt foolish to hedge everything on your captor, but you also didn’t have any other options. He had shown a fascination in you from the start and it had only intensified with each step away from the world you knew. 

Some of the captive women and children were fitted with slave collars and dumped into cages. They wasted no time in putting them to work and started weeding out the potential new recruits amongst the children. They were immediately put into training. Only a small handful of captives were left, you amongst them. 

Most of the Legion soldiers who had traveled alongside were also splitting off to be reassigned to other duties.

There was no respite here.

Your dwindling group was led to the fortified camps at the top of the hill and a dread filled your belly. When the sun was highest in the sky, you stood before a row of Praetorian Guards. Legion banners lined the perimeter. The audience was small but no less intimidating. 

As you approached the row of guards, you saw an ornate chair. Luscious furs lining the chair and bloodied spears protruding from the back like spikes. It was decorated in red and gold fabrics and adorned with a massive pair of bull horns at the top. Grotesque and foreboding. 

A throne. 

This could only be for one man. The leader of the Legion. Caesar. 

Your heart raced with fear. His reputation as a cruel and malevolent ruler was rightfully earned. The amount of death he was responsible for without lifting a finger was insurmountable. He commanded tens of thousands of fighters with an allegiance that was unrivaled.  

He walked out from the dwelling behind the throne to take his seat.

Acacius walked up to him, greeting him in the customary way and they exchanged smiles and laughs, as if they were old friends reuniting. The pit in your stomach tightened. Disgusted to be in the presence of such evil men, and betrayal gnawed at you as you watched Acacius shake hands with him.  

Their informal greeting wrapped up and a more serious veil followed. It was down to business.  

“This stock will serve your militia well, Caesar. It is your honor to do with them what you will.” Acacius said as he took a step by his side, facing you and the handful of captive young women who made it this far. 

Caesar looked out from his throne. Hard to believe he looked like such an ordinary man. Unremarkable with the exception of some regal fur lined leather armor and a golden emblem on his chest. He was a little older than Acacius, with short, thinning hair and beady, menacing eyes. He was clean shaven and had a solid build. 

His simple but regal armor only lended his charisma to shine brighter. You could see how easily he could smoothly convince anyone to carry out his orders. His goals were simple. He wanted to unify the remaining fragments of humanity under his vision of that of an empire. One he alone would have total control over.

He was of the mindset that when the bombs fell that almost took out humankind it was a necessary way to reset the natural order of things. It gave him the opportunity to redefine the new world order and his results as a conqueror only lended to his strength to lead. 

His temper had its own reputation. In the event they didn’t comply in a way he found satisfactory, death was the only answer. Tribes that refused to join him were eliminated as he conquered whatever was left. Join the Legion or die. This left nothing but loyal men, and this loyalty was the strength of the Legion. Loyal, merciless zealots. 

Those that aligned with him were rewarded with a life that was stripped of any distractions. Drugs, chems and alcohol were forbidden. It was hard to want for something you never really knew, and this allowed him to control his men by only letting them know of taking orders. 

People like you were a threat. Free thinking and believing in things like democracy, science and innovation. Ideas that would plague his army like a virus. This realization made you reflect on why Acacius had punished you and why his reaction was so intense when you openly demonstrated your wits. It was to protect you, in a twisted way.     

Caesar scanned his eyes over you and the others and rose from his chair. 

“Very good, Legatas. You have brought me a fine selection.” 

Your ears perked. 

Legatas? 

It was all starting to make sense. 

Not only was Acacius the general of his troop, but he was the general of the Legion. 

A Legate. Essentially next in line to rule over if something were to happen to Caesar. His power and influence was so far beyond what you could have imagined. His proximity to Caesar was terrifying. His allegiance to him surely would be greater than anything to you. 

Panic coursed through you and it took every effort to remain still. To suppress the rapid heartbeat that was intensifying in your chest. Swallowing down the dread that was trying to crawl out of your throat and consume you whole.   

“I am glad you have completed your missions victoriously. Decimated our enemies and even brought me gifts. Welcome home, Legate.” He rested his hand on his shoulder and then turned his attention back to you and the others.   

Acacius gestured with his hand and one of his Centurian guards approached with some of the more prominent soldiers from the raid. Decanus you recognized from the room where you were publicly shamed and dehumanized. The place where Acacius took you and claimed you for himself, as if he was doing you a favor. That still remained to be seen with this new revelation.

“These Legionaries are all deserving of your generosity. I vouch for their eminence. I can assure you their skill and ruthlessness in battle will be fine traits to pass on.”

Caesar smiled, pleased. He seemed much more relaxed than anyone else. He was untouchable after all. Whatever he said or wished would be done. He was a man that knew nothing but absolute control.  

When he got to you, he eyed your body. Crudely reached his hand to your hip and observed your body's physical condition. He was checking your temperament, too. You kept your mouth shut and pleaded with your eyes to Acacius. He was stone faced and unreadable while Caesar looked you over like he was purchasing livestock. 

“Bold of you to try to tame profligate whores. No resistance among these women?”

Acacius nodded no. “You have my word.” The words fell off his tongue with elegance. 

That was good enough for him. 

“Very well. Then they will fulfill their divine duties within the Legion.”

Caesar beckoned to one of the Legionaires nonchalantly with his fingers to approach you. 

Your blood felt as if it ran cold when you realized that Caesar was amidst making a decision. He was assigning you to another man as a reward for murdering an entire town. 

Absolutely fucking not. 

Your eyes searched for Acacius in a panic and he was already locked on you. Calm and unbothered. He took a step forward so that he was in line with Caesar and swiftly interrupted with a lower, discrete tone. 

“Ive been breeding this one.” He admits with confidence like it was no big deal. “I know I should have waited until you made the assignments. Forgive me.” His tone was manipulative. Trying to sway Caesar with his apology laced with a sort of entitlement he was assuming. There was a leeway he had in his position to speak more freely than any other recruit, but surely even generals have their limits. 

Caesar was not keen on being interrupted but was also caught off guard that he was being so frank with him.

“Acacius, you know better.” he says seriously then lets out a snicker and slaps him on the back. “You have exceeded your quotas. You don’t need any more.” 

He dismissed him without a thought, making a joke and moving on, turning his attention back on the captives waiting in front of him.

Acacius had a brief look of fear. Fearful that he wasn’t going to have you after all. It made him careless, and argued his point. 

This was bold and dangerous. Uncharacteristic. Even you could see that.   

“This will be my last,” he interrupted again, this time louder.

Caesar eyed him over, not liking to be challenged. “Don’t get attached, Acacius.” He cautioned. His sharp tone was threatening. “Maybe I will take this one for myself...” he says, testing the waters. His tone was sinister, as if he wanted to get a rise out of Acacius. Caesar eyed you up and down and you fought every fiber of your being to keep quiet.

Acacius had always presented himself with a commanding stature, but in this moment you saw something. Fear. He knew he had overstepped by the way that Caesar dismissed his request and made a joke of it, but he persisted. A potentially fatal mistake.

The quietness of the legionaries was deafening. Waiting to see how Caesar would handle this persistence from his right hand man when confronted with pushback.

The way that Caesar looked you in the eyes was pure hatred laced with intrigue. You felt it shake your bones. He was looking at you and trying to understand what would make his Legate act so bold and disobedient. A private exchange with you and you knew in your core that this would not be the end. He turned back to Acacius.

“You serve me well, Acacius,” he pauses, pensive. “Consider this a reward for your conquests. Take your whore and when she is with child she will worship Mars.” He slapped him on the back and turned away. Dismissive and making the whole thing sound trivial. 

“Ave, Caesar.” He tapped his shoulder with his fist and took a step back to his place as second in command. His face remained unflinching.

Caesar nodded to some of the guards who approached you to carry you off and Acacius did not make eye contact with you again. He gave no indication how he was feeling extremely relieved, but you knew it. He remained by Caesars side while he divided up the other women to similar fates.  

You were filled with gratitude that once again, your capturer had saved you from the hands of something even more vile. However, the pit in your stomach was telling you that this gesture from Caesar was not done in earnest. 

There was a new tension in the air. There would be a price and Acacius knew that too. 

—

The Centurions led you away while Caesar administered the fate of the other captives. They brought you to a supply stand and had you collect some clean clothing. A less fortunate girl was manning the station and handed you a fresh attire deliberately without making eye contact. No opportunity to even exchange a comforting glance in solidarity. This would truly be a lonely place. 

They took you to a tent that was much more spacious and decorated than the one you laid in during the march across the wasteland. There was a modest bed and some practical furnishings. A table laid out with maps and plentiful resources like food and water. Hot water ready at the fire. They ordered you to wait here and left you alone.

In your solace you cleaned up the best you could and eagerly discarded the rags you had been living in. Indulging in warmth to wash the dirt and filth from your body and cleaning yourself properly for the first time in weeks. Restoring yourself to a simple and feminine form and relishing in the neutral, clean scent from the soap. A true luxury you would never take for granted again.

The ivory gown they had given you to wear was a welcome upgrade. It was loose fitting and comfortable. It draped delicately over your bust leaving your shoulders bare. It went just above your knees, covering enough to give you some modesty if you had to be paraded in front of soldiers. But still, it was practical. Accessible. At least you didn’t bear the red X any longer, but you were a prisoner nonetheless with your free will still locked away. 

There was a mirror you adjusted yourself in, combing your hands through your hair the best you could and applying some scented oils you found near the bath. Making yourself at least smell human again.

You were hardly recognizable to the woman you were before. Once a brave traveler making a respectable living amongst civilized company and now relegated to the enemies whore. 

Waiting made you painfully aware of this new reality. You wiped away the tears as you watched them fall in your reflection. Your new responsibilities now revolved around a man you barely knew. And yet, his mercy made you want to do good by him. Be desirable and irreplaceable. In the moment earlier when you saw him fight for you it cemented that you were his, and he was yours. In an unexplainable way, your fates were now tied together. The thought was comforting and terrifying all at once.

–

When Acacius returned several hours later you had been waiting on his bed and were fast asleep. He slowly walked over to you as he unfastened his pauldrons. His face was solemn as he approached you and softened as he admired your presentation. The way his eyes feasted on your body made your pulse quicken in excitement. 

“Beautiful.” He stated simply. Approving your body and taking in the first time he was really able to see you as more than just a captured whore. It made your heart swell to see his genuine desire.

You sat up while he backed away, drinking you in as he removed the rest of his armor. You admired him too. His body was broad and his tanned skin equally covered in grit as you had been. Blood, dirt and sweat that had been hiding him for too long and making him look ruthless and savage. 

When he removed his tunic and stood bare before you you gently bit your lower lip and pressed your legs together to quell the aching. His broad and commanding body was intimidating and only made you want him more. Thick thighs and arms that could break you effortlessly. 

He smirked as he turned from you and went to wash. You laid there in anticipation and turned away to give him some privacy. You dozed off, your body still excruciatingly tired from your ordeals.

When he returned to the bed you awoke when you felt his weight sink the mattress. You rolled onto your back and sat up to look up at him and for the first time saw the real Acacius. Softer. Handsome. Without his Roman armor and the blood of his enemies he was just a man. You ached for him in a way that you didn’t know could exist. 

He gently pushed you down onto your back and maneuvered between your legs. His hand dragged up the outside of your thigh and disappeared under your cotton dress. He seemed more hesitant to touch you or at least more reserved. He wasn’t taking what he wanted and it made you quick to react. You moved his hand further up and let out a gentle moan when his thumb brushed over your clit. Letting him know that you wanted this. Wanted him. 

He kneeled between your legs and pried them open. He dipped his head low and breathed you in. 

“Beautiful and all mine.” he muttered and it sent a shiver through your body. There were no more barriers. No more need to hesitate with you. He could do whatever he wanted and yet he was being so gentle. Respectful, even. 

His shoulders nudged your legs wider as he situated himself between your thighs and pushed your dress up to your belly. You helped take it off the rest of the way. The way he looked up at you with a longing before returning to what he started sparked a tinge of arousal.

His tongue worked with a precision that made your insides twist with pleasure. He took your swollen bud into his mouth, making you moan. 

Acacius picked his head up and pressed a chaste kiss just above your mound as his eyes locked with yours. He kissed you lower and lower, never breaking eye contact until he returned to your clit and sucked.

Your hands carded naturally through his hair, grabbing onto his messy curls.

It was inhumane how good he made you feel. The taboo action of a legionaire pleasuring a woman for no practical reason was intoxicating. His skills expanded so far beyond fighting and killing. It was a criminal how he could work his tongue and you were starting to come undone. 

He didn’t let up, doubling down the more he felt you writhe in pleasure under him and tug at his hair. He reacted with more vigor the harder you pulled at him, relentlessly sucking. Your moans escalated until you couldn’t hold on a moment longer

Your release coated his face. His beard was damp and shiny and he dragged his arm across it to wipe it, poorly succeeding. He looked drunk off of you and pleased with the messy results. 

Having you under him, squirming in your intense orgasm made that feral neediness return. His cock was throbbing as he sat back onto his haunches and gathered your slick, coating himself with it.

“Gonna fill you up with my cum now, again and again until it takes,” he rasped under his breath, placing a hand firmly on your belly. 

His tone and demeanor was not threatening as he had sounded before. This was more seductive. Teasing you with the promise to fill you over and over. 

He didn't actually want more children, it was just a means to have you. He wanted to claim you. He had met his breeding quota before with women he didn’t care about. It was just a duty he had to perform and he never saw them again after sending them off to Legion cities. He never gave them another thought. 

You were different. In every possible way. The urge to protect you was primal. He couldn’t get enough of you. How submissive you were to his dominance and how easily he could draw an orgasm from you. He just wanted to fuck you again and again.

He held his cock in his hand and pumped it a few times. Your mouth salivated for it and you could feel your cunt dripping in anticipation. He notched it at your entrance and eased in slowly, letting your walls pull him inside.

You moaned his name, trying hard to be quiet and finding it increasingly difficult.

He fucked you deep, marveling at how well your tight hole engulfed him and stretched around his shaft. His groans as he nudged in further were raspy.

In his quarters, in his domain, he could finally have his way with you properly. You welcomed it, craving the way he perfectly slotted into you. Fighting the urge to scream his name to release any sort of energy building up inside you.  

“Be as loud as you want,” he urged as he sharply thrust into you. You could feel him starting to come undone. “Let them know you’re all mine.” 

Facing you in this position he focused on the way your mouth hung open with each thrust.

You screamed his name, begging him to be merciful as his cock head pounded into your darkest depths. Your legs were wrapped around his sides in a death grip and your shared orgasm cumulated together in a messy release. 

His seed filled you and he grunted through gritted teeth as he unloaded. The pressure from his shaft and his fleshy tip pushing it as deep as it could go was intoxicating. 

He held inside you for a moment, plugging you up until his cock started to soften. When he withdrew he did so slowly, wincing as his sensitive tip caught on your ridges and you mourned his departure. 

The post-coital glow left you both breathless. He crawled up to lay alongside you and held you tightly against his chest while you drifted asleep in his arms.

There was something different about Acacius now. Maybe it was the privacy or maybe he was just tired from his recent conquests, but he seemed to be more at peace. Being embraced by him you felt nothing but safe. 

You stirred in his arms and turned to face him. You ran your hand through his greying beard and he closed his eyes at your gentle touch, relishing your kindness; your acceptance. The moment was peaceful and felt right. You were not in a war camp in the middle of a wasteland. You were in the arms of a lover, a million miles away from civilization where you were the only ones existing. 

“What am I to call you?” he asked, breaking the silence and bringing you both back to the real world. 

You thought long and hard for a moment. Not once had he asked your name or referred to you as anything beyond his property. A name felt trivial at this point, but you humored him.   

“My old name doesn’t suit me anymore if this is to be my new life,” you reasoned. 

“Then I will choose a name for you.” His hand rested on your hip and pulled you into him. He searched your eyes, really looking deep for what felt right.

His thumb gently brushed your hair behind your ear and a crooked smile grew on his face when it came to him.  

“Helia. Helia from Sunhollow.” He paused and searched your eyes for your reaction. 

“Helia?” you repeated back to him. Pondering the roman-esque meaning. 

“My sun-maiden.” he breathed as he took you in his mouth for a tender kiss.

“It’s pretty,” you smiled. You liked it. More than that, you like that he was giving it to you. It was playful and a defining line on what was and what is.  

The tension between you both was much lighter now. He reached for your dress and handed it to you as he shuffled out from the bed. Of course this moment of leisure would be short lived for a legatus.

Acacius redressed too, this time donning his red cloak over his armor and you marveled at his regalness in a new light. He approached you tenderly as he was preparing to leave.

“I had another name too, long ago,” he paused. “Before I joined the Legion.” It had not occurred to you until now that he must have had a life before. He was older and too well articulate with his words and wisdom. Just like Caesar, he had been someone else. 

You opened your mouth, waiting for the words to pour out but was silenced by the softness of the moment. He was letting you in, letting you get to know the real him for the first time and that mattered more than anything. 

“Marcus,” he whispered as if he could read your silence. “Marcus was my old name.” This revelation felt heavy, like he was holding it deep within him for decades and you were the only ears to hear that name spoken out loud. You had so many questions.

He brought his pointer finger to his lip to signal that this information was shared with you in secret and you nodded, acknowledging what he was laying out. 

“Stay here and I’ll return later,” he assured you. 

It was late in the afternoon now and surely he had other duties calling him in an active war camp. 

Still, you hated to see him go.

–

Hours passed and you spent the time reading whatever you could find and eventually retiring to bed while you waited for Acacius. You tried not to worry when the hour got later and later.

When you awoke the air felt wrong. You sat up, startled and focused on the shadowy figure a few feet away. There was someone else in the tent with you, sitting at the table with his back to you. Someone who didn’t belong.

The stranger heard you shuffle and turned to face you while brandishing his knife. In the dim light you could barely make out who it was until you heard him speak. Your blood ran cold. 

“Time to have a little chat.”

To be continued…

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"And again."

His words are resonant and commanding, the rich timbre of his voice cutting through the dimly lit palace bedroom in a way that makes your spine shiver. The only other sound audible to your ears is the panting of your breath, coarse and wet, as you try to regain your composure.

You're kneeling on the ground naked as Acacius stands before you, one meaty hand fisted in your hair. His erect cock, thick and slick with spit, is mere inches from your face. It has only been a minute since he stalked into your room and practically threw you to the marble floor, but you already look a wreck - saliva and tears dripping down your chin and onto your chest, your eyes glassy and your lips swollen. You can smell the faint scent of the perfumed oil he bathes in underneath the stench of his sweat.

You're terrified, your mind scarcely clinging to reality as your sense of self preservation keeps your body upright on your knees. You don't know how you're going to endure this for much longer, physically or mentally.

It's not that you are a stranger to carnal pleasure. You have had some experiences with a man or two in your village during moments of passion hidden within secret nooks of hazy summer afternoons. You had been emboldened by youthful curiosity and lust in those times; those thrilling trysts had given you the perfect opportunity to explore your body and the pleasures it could experience, especially with a man.

But nothing has prepared you for what General Acacius is currently subjecting you to. You have never pleased a man with your mouth like this before. In fact, you aren't even sure how a man can derive any pleasure from such an exercise of aggression.

But then again, General Acacius is not the average man. And your pleasure is not the focus of your role as his mistress. He had made it clear the first time he took you that all you were expected to be from this point on was a vessel for his cock.

He towers over you now, his burly body naked, scarred flesh and hulking muscle on display like a Roman God. The silvering curls of his hair are damp with sweat and stick to his forehead. His lips are slightly parted as his chest rises and falls with his breaths, head tilted downward to watch you with steely brown eyes that blaze with savage wantonness.

"I said again," he barks out, giving your head a tight shake and making you shriek in pain.

He's becoming impatient with you - a dangerous thing to risk with a man like the general, but you aren't purposely being defiant. The last thing you want is to earn his ire but you're struggling to withstand his tortuous pursuit of gratification. You have witnessed him in battle, have seen first hand just how ruthless and barbaric his nature can be, and you have come to understand that his sexual appetite is just as sadistic.

You must stall for a second too long, for Acacius pinches your nose between his fingers, making you instinctively gasp for air. He takes the opportunity to jolt his hips forward and stuff his cock back inside your mouth until the head taps against the back of your throat.

You gag instantly and try to jerk your head away, your nails simultaneously digging into his thighs, but his hold on your hair is like an iron anchor, making it impossible for you to escape.

"Hold it."

You can't do anything but obey him. You stare up at him with wide, panicked eyes, willing him to have mercy on you. After a few excuriating seconds Acacius takes his fingers away from your nose, generous enough to let you breathe. You try your best to inhale through your nostrils but your sinus feels clogged and the intrusion of his cock between your lips is too suffocating for you to concentrate.

"Deeper."

He pushes your head further down his length, stretching your lips painfully. The head of his dick stabs into your throat, causing you to splutter and gag even more. You screw your eyes shut while your stomach muscles tense as you fight the urge to vomit.

"Good," Acacius lets out a gravelly moan. "Good whore."

His hand remains threaded through your hair while the other one shifts to cup under your jaw, his fingers squeezing firmly to keep your mouth pried open. He then begins to rock his hips back and forth slowly, guiding the head of his cock to saw in and out of your throat in lesiurely strokes, never withdrawing from your mouth. It slides heavily over your tongue, saliva pooling around the velvety underside and dripping from the corners of your mouth. His ballsack slaps rhythmically against your chin, sticky and wet with your spit.

All you can do is succumb to his will and just take it. You are vaguely aware of a pulsing sensation inside your cunt, your muscles involuntarily tightening and unclenching in time with his thrusts.

It's humiliating.

"Stay just like that, whore." Acacius orders you, only the slightest hint of breathlessness betraying his detached veneer. "I will continue to train you until every one of your holes can take me without resistance."

His words are like an arrow straight to your heart. Until just a few days ago you were a free woman living a simple existence in your ancestral village, full of joy and promise, surrounded by your loved ones. You were content with your humble life. You took pride in contributing to the community, labouring as every other peasant did in order to enjoy the wealth of fresh fruits, vegetables and produce.

But it all changed when the thunderous sound of galloping horse hooves and men's voices cut through the peaceful backdrop of your settlement. With the swoop of a single Roman sword your idyllic world was slashed to shreds. Everything you held dear, including your very identity, was cruelly snatched from underneath you and defiled and obliterated right before your eyes.

And now here you are, imprisoned as a sex slave and on your knees to service the very man responsible.

This was the second time Acacius had come to your chambers since imprisoning you. He had left you ruined and weeping that first visit, stuffed full of his cum and leaking all over the lavish sheets of the magnificent bed you were to sleep on from now on. You aren't sure how long it has been since then, if he had left the city to conquer another township or had remained in Rome.

You don't even know how much time has passed since the fateful day the Roman army decimated your village; you have no concept of time except from the rising and setting of the sun outside the locked windows of your balcony. The world continues to exist outside of the four walls of the opulent room you have been confined to, while you resign yourself to the life of a mistress to the most infamous war general in the land. 

The cold marble floor bites your kneecaps while tears leak from your eyes, warm and stinging as they trickle down your cheeks. Acacius continues to fuck your face with the same measured momentum, drawing a constant rivulet of mucus from your nose and filthy gurgled retching from your throat. His massive hand on your jaw is like a vice holding you in place and you can already feel the bruises that will surely bloom under the weight of his calloused fingers.

His hands are so wide and thick that he could crush your face with ease, you think. If you want to survive you have got to try get through this, just long enough for him to cum. You plant your hands onto your thighs and dig your fingernails down in an effort to distract yourself from the assault. Your nails imprint into your flesh, determined to pierce the skin and cause a flare of pain, to give your mind something else to focus on instead of the violation of your body.

The strategy works, and what seems like several minutes pass by. All that can be heard in the room is the guttural retch of your throat being abused and the repeated wet smack of his balls, punctuated by the occasional groan from Acacius.

Your mind floats away from your physical being. You become disconnected, so much so that you don't register your top teeth unexpectedly scrape over the ridges of his cock. You don't realise your mistake until he hisses angrily, then suddenly releases your face from his grip to land a prompt slap to your cheek.

Your eyes fling open, vision blurred and dizzied. An anguished wail escapes from the raw ravages of your throat as a burst of pain explodes at the side of your face and radiates all throughout your cheekbone.

"Are you really so careless, or do you think yourself brave enough to wound me?" he growls, yanking at your hair and causing your scalp to prickle painfully. "Answer me, you little slut."

"I'm sorry!" You croak, gasping for air through panicked breathes. "I-I didn't mean to!"

Using his grip on your hair Acacius hauls you up onto your feet, his actions more swift than your muddled brain can comprehend. He shoves you backward onto the bed and you let out a shocked cry when your back hits the mattress with a thud.

"It seems I have yet to properly break that spirit of yours," he huffs down at you, his lip curled upward in reproachful irritation. "But I assure you, it is no matter of concern to me - in fact, I will very much enjoy being the one to tame you."

Despite the fear churning inside your stomach, his threatening words trigger a flame of indignation to lick at the nape of your neck. You have to bite your tongue to fight the impulse to argue back, to question the lack of logic in his accusation. Did he really believe that you had purposely tried to injure him, despite being so much younger and exceedingly inferior in physical strength?

You ball your hands into fists, tears of frustration welling within your eyes. Was it not clear that you had tried so hard to appease him by being pliant and submissive? You bite your lower lip and will yourself not to cry. It would be pointless to cry or argue. Arguing would do nothing but further provoke Acacius's temper and give him a solid reason to hurt you; although, you suspect, he would gladly do so with or without a legitimate excuse.

"Open your legs," he orders.

You tilt your head up and stare past his head of curls to look up at the cream white ceiling, unable to meet the intimidating icy gaze of his brown eyes. You obey and part your legs wide enough to display your cunt to him. He plants his knees on the bed inbetween your legs, the shadow of his massive frame shrouding you like a beast of prey descending upon its defenceless victim.

Acacius takes hold of one of your legs and hoists it upright so that your ankle rests against his shoulder, then positions himself closer to the apex of your thighs. He fists his cock and drags the head up and down over your clit, making your breath catch in your throat at the dull spark of pleasure that unexpectedly curls within your belly.

You wonder vaguely if the general has been with many women; if he has lain with willing partners or taken only slaves, if he possesses a harem or prefers to use only one woman at a time. He's undeniably attractive with his regal aquiline nose and tanned skin - surely he wouldn't be lacking in attention or proposals from the opposite sex, be they from the noble society or from amongst the commoners. You wonder if he is married, if he would treat his potential wife with as much cruelty as he does you.

"Let's see if your cunt remembers her master," Acacius purrs, voice husky with desire.

You tangle your hands in the silk sheets beneath you, a surge of dread coursing throughout your body. When you feel the heat of Acacius's cock head against your opening, your pelvic muscles instinctively sieze up. He had left you bleeding and swollen last time and you're terrified that he will leave you just as ravaged and broken.

He attempts to push inside your pussy but you're too tight and he fails to penetrate you even an inch. He tries twice more without success, tsking under his breath before he spits a wad of saliva onto one of his thick fingers and slides it unceremoniously into you. You whimper quietly, involuntarily clamping down on his digit. He growls, annoyed, and begins scissoring it in and out of your hole, slowly breaking you open.

"You can either open yourself for me or I can tear you apart doing so," Acacius mutters coldly. "It makes no difference to me."

You take a deep breath and exhale shakily. He's going to fuck you whether you're prepared or not, and for your own sake you must do whatever you can to lessen the pain. You move your other leg open further to try spread your lips, a wordless gesture that signals your submission.

Acacius removes his hand from your core and grips his cock once more. You take another deep inhale when he lines back up against your hole, then exhale slowly when he successfully begins to push inside of you. Even though his movement is unhurried, the burning stretch is agonising and you croak out a distressed cry.

He rolls his pelvis against yours, feeding half the length of his cock into your pussy. He pulls his hips back but then plunges forward again, coaxing another wrecked sob from the depths of your lungs.

"You're still so tight," Acacius remarks, a hint of amused intrigue in his voice.

He thrusts back and forth, over and over, until your pussy has finally stretched enough for him to smoothly drive his fat dick in and out of you. A symphony of your tormented, tear filled moans accompany every stroke, mounting to an unrestrained screech whenever he knocks against your cervix. You hear a satisfied rumble reverberate from his chest.

"There is no sweeter sound than that of you keening for me like a bitch in heat."

You truly feel like a bitch in heat, being so thoroughly dominated and degraded as Acacius pounds into you with animalistic vigour. The warmth of his body is stifling, and droplets of his sweat spill from his brow and drop down onto your jiggling tits. His rhythm doesn't falter for even a second, not even when he brings his hand to his face and spits saliva over his fingertips.

You don't realise his intention until you feel his spit soaked finger swirl around the outer ring of your asshole. He slips it inside suddenly, and you squeak in shock. You curse, wincing at the uncomfortable sensation of something foreign breaching your back hole.

"This will be my next claim to conquer," Acacius announces with a cocky smirk. "Will you be ready, pretty one?"

Why was he here? There could be only one reason. 

This was it. This was going to be your end.

Caesar approached you now, close enough to him that you could smell him. Metallic and leathery, but not in a way that someone was in combat. No. He smelled like a man who dressed for war and killed with words. 

Not like Acacius.

Where the hell was Acacius? 

“Come to me.” This was an order. His hand extended towards you, pretending to be friendly. 

You obeyed. Your legs unsteady and forgetful on how to do their basic function. They carried you to him despite your best attempt to will them to run the other way.  

You were not sure how to react or how to respond. All you could do was be silent. Acacius had warned you once before not to speak. Cautioned you that he could do nothing to save you from a fate Caesar deemed appropriate.  

Caesar was trying to intimidate you for reasons you had not entirely figured out yet. It would be best to play along.   

“Why do you hide your intelligence? I know you are a smart one, profligate.”

Despite the voice in your head screaming at you to be silent, you could not hold your tongue much longer. Maybe the only way out of this was to show him that you were more than a body to use for his army. You had your uses. 

“Speak freely around me. It is refreshing. No doubt Acacius has had that pleasure.” He attempted to soften his request. “Or did I misjudge, and you are a useless cause after all?”

------------------

His eyes caught you watching him and his face hardened, hiding any traces of morality as he sheathed his weapon. You looked away, but could still feel him on you for a moment longer.     His body was still running on the high from the bloody slaughter earlier. Unlike most other men in higher ranks, he was in the thick of it all. Ruthless and leading with brutality. He wasn’t just executing orders. He was an expert killer and didn’t happen to be in his position by accident. He demonstrated his skills in battle, and the snide comment he overheard sparked a primal rage in his core. How dare anyone question him?    It was a wishful and foolish thought to find any sympathy in the Legion. You look away and he steps towards you.  He grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look him in the eyes. To his surprise, and yours, you met them with prowess. It intrigued him.   “Get up.” he barked. He towered over you as he pulled you up by your bound hands. “Make yourself useful, Profligate whore.”  Your words stick in your throat and you are silent. He was going to make a demonstration of his savagery, at your expense. 

The Legion Masterlist

Chapter 1/3 coming SOON!

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Legion Part II - Legatus (masterlist)

Dark!Acacius x Female Reader

Acacius walked up to him, greeting him in the customary way and they exchanged smiles and laughs, as if they were old friends reuniting. The pit in your stomach tightened. Disgusted to be in the presence of such evil men, and betrayal gnawed at you as you watched Acacius shake hands with him.

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