"Hurry up," I said. The slaves were taking too long. But it was not their fault. My sister only used her catgirls like pillows and maids.

Slave after slave carried rugs, tapestries, paintings, statues, furniture and other belongings into our wagons. Even my dad's old desk was thrown into a wagon.

"Hey be careful."

It was my sister's idea to strip our mansion at Ravenna down to the last nail. To not take all of our belongings and slaves with us back to Rome was uncivilized, she said. When I confronted her about it, she replied:

"What will our friends at Rome say if we showed up empty-handed, unthinkable. Your appointment as consul is a sign that our family has a divine mandate to oversee the rest of the patricians. We need to preach by example."

I had planned to depart Ravenna in the morning. But it took hours to get the wagons ready. When we left the swamps of Ravenna, our caravan of three carriages and two wagons grew in size to twenty wagons.

The cheer amount of wealth being transported made us a juicy target for bandits. Manlius did not provide me with any men to defend myself. I had to hire two hundred mercenaries of questionable loyalty. All they did during our trip was to eat bread and honey. Sure, this would deter any marauding barbarians and bandits, but not a loyalist army.

To make matters worse, my three cousins and sister, along with Arya, accompanied me in my carriage.

"Darling, aren't you a bit too young and inexperienced," My sister said, poking Arya on the ribs.

"Yes, Tiberius, don't you agree?" Faustina said. She squished Arya's thighs. "If you make her your wife, she might not be able to bear you children."

"W-wife?" Arya asked. "C-chi.... C-children!?"

"My brother is an ambitious young man, with a rising career. He sought to have children."

Arya face lit up red, redder than a strawberry. She covered her face. "T-Tibe-rius."

I wanted to rescue her from the claws of my family, but I was just not in the mood to get involved myself. What if they turned their attention to me? At least they didn't question why I hadn't granted her freedom.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, once we reach Rome, we'll educate you in the art of the aristocracy," Galla said. "That is, if my cousin approves."

I didn't like where this was going. They wanted to make my little Arya into a whore.

"TIBERIUS, WE HAVE TO BUY HER NEW CLOTHES,"

"YES, LOOK AT WHAT SHE IS WEARING," Junia pulled Arya's dress.

"Tiberius.... don't tell me you still choose her clothes," My sister said.

"Tiberius, do you?" Galla said.

I did not respond. I expected Arya to defend me, but she did not. I was the most powerful man in Rome, second only to the emperor. Yet, this did not stop these vipers from leading me to ruin.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, you'll look wonderful on red," Faustina said. "Right, Tiberius?"

"No, she would look better on white," My Sister said. "Isn't that right, brother?"

"How about black," Said Galla.

These women wanted me undone. They all looked at me for an answer. Even Arya peeked through her fingers. I wonder if this was all staged.

"Fine, why don't we just buy multiple clothes, of different colors and see which one fits her the best?" I said.

My family just giggled and hugged Arya. Arya smiled too.

Woman.... why are they so complicated.

When we reached Rome, the slaves unloaded our belongings into the Imperial mansion, which now belonged to me since Manlius had no intention of living in Rome. Augustus himself decorated the mansion. The traditional, modest, rustic style of old patricians remained. Even the indoors, old imperial bath with capacity to up to a hundred people remained intact.

As I stared into a bust of Augustus, my sister walked into the lobby with a few of our slaves, including my catgirl Mika. I had not seen her in a while.

"I want it all undone," She said. Snapping her fingers. They threw the bust of Augustus to the floor and replaced it with the symbol of the sun.

"Sis..."

"I want rugs placed here, a tapestry placed there, some cushions over there," She continued, then went to the next room. The slaves followed.

I facepalmed myself and walked to my room, which was the imperial suite. At least Arya understood me, or so I thought. But when I arrived, my sister already had remodeled my room to her liking. The red rug was thick and soft, the softest rug that my toes have ever stepped on. There were weird tapestries all over the walls. The room smelled like lavender because of some high candles placed on silver ware. White petals lead to my bed, which was covered in a white velvet.

Arya was sitting at the edge of the bed. She was wearing a silky, black nightgown, and a chocker. Likely a suggestion from my sister. But I didn't care. When our eyes met, she blushed.

Arya's little moans could be heard all the way into the hallway.

My sister entered my room with Mika. Mika turned off all the candles in the room, and we at once were under total darkness.

Arya hissed. Her breasts pressed against my arm. She was defending her man.

Arya kicked whoever climbed on the bed. But then she got dragged from her ankles, for her weight got dragged towards the edge of the bed. She hissed again. But then her little moans resumed.

The bed sank a bit as someone crawled towards me. It was my sister. She pressed her hand against my lap.

She whispered in my ear, "Why are you so horny all the time."

Then, her tongue almost made it to my brain. I had to squeeze her thigh to stop her. Her hand stroked my dick. I fingered her in turn.

"The savior of Rome," She whispered.

Arya and Mika were moaning in the background. Just Demi-humans being Demi-humans.

"The Hero of Lyon, the spear thrower of Aquileia," My sister continued. With every compliment, her hand stroke me more. I slipped another finger into her.

She and I were building a rhythm.

"How dare you not invite us!"

The voice sounded like my cousin Galla.

"Huh?"

Oh nonono. Multiple people got into the bed.

"Where is Tiberius?" Junia asked.

Around five different hands grabbed my feet and pulled me towards them. My sister refused to let go, and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards her, but it was futile.

There were too many women, I didn't know what to do.

"Do whatever you want," I said.

That was a bad idea. One of my cousins started riding me, while my sister sat on my face, while a sadist playfully poked my ass. They took turns riding me and switched positions back and forth. They cynically called it the Tiberian roulette and giggled when I cummed on the unlucky one to ride last. Then they changed the game, and they put my tongue to work. In that game, Tiberius always lost.

I passed out of exhaustion, covered in their vaginal juices. The following morning I was all sticky and had my slaves rub me really well on the bath. To my displeasure, my family and their slaves dipped into the bath.

"Tiberius, you promised you'll take us shopping today."

In this same very bath, emperor Nero attempted to drown his own mother.

*blupblupblup*

As I attempted to drown myself. I could see why.