The Autobiography of a Flea, Book4

    In earlier journals describing my titillating adventures among the sexually obsessed human species, I hope I've modestly established the fact that while I am merely a Flea who must depend upon the ancient profession of bloodsucking to sustain my life, I'm a rather extraordinary creature insofar as my talent for being aware of the behavior and motivations of the lustfully inclined humans upon whom I feed is concerned. It's a wise parasite who knows the foibles of his hosts. I have enjoyed such wisdom since birth.

    I cannot pretend to understand my own unique ability, nor the workings of a capricious destiny which apparently chose to single me out from all others of my kind – dispensing upon me the gift of intelligent observation as well as the additional capacity of communicating as exhibited herein.

    I know only that it is, at times, a rather strenuous responsibility for one in my lowly walk (or should I more accurately say leap) of life. When going briskly about my surreptitious business of obtaining a living by deftly (and, often, dangerously) drinking the nourishing blood of the human beings that is so necessary to the continuance of my very existence, I'm frequently distracted by my own fascination for their bizarre and active mating techniques – to which they seem considerably addicted over and beyond their need for food and sleep. The human appetite for carnal pleasure and sexual satisfaction is indeed a voracious trait of their specie.

    And a most entertaining one as I hope to once again prove by sharing my most recent experiences with those of you into whose hands this account may have fallen.

    Finding myself back in England, I endured the cold, damp climate with as much fortitude one my size can muster but I longed for warmer, dryer climate, having known the more comfortable weather of other lands in my travels.

    Once I had firmly concluded that I was ready to migrate to a more suitable climate, it was simply a matter of time and a number of jumps from host to host, whenever the opportunity presented itself, before I found myself within the cheery interior of a waterfront hotel that catered to seafaring men from ports all over the world.

    The inhabitants of the hotel represented almost every nation imaginable, and knowing that the quality of cuisine is important when one is to depend upon it during a long sea voyage, I took the trouble to sample each sailor's blood – letting that which was most enjoyable to my palate determine my eventual destination.

    I finally settled upon a virile young man named Ignacio Oses – a veritable bull of a fellow with olive skin (that was easily pierced), black hair, intent brown eyes and muscles that seemed to bulge over still more muscular construction. Also, his was a cheerful and pleasant disposition which seemed to keep his face unmarked since he would rather laugh than fight, even when far gone in wine; at which time he preferred singing doleful songs in his beautiful baritone voice, made even more exotic by his native Catalonian accent. Speaking both English and Spanish, he was apparently a very intelligent young man despite his obvious lack of formal education and manners.

    Most important of all, Ignacio was returning to his own country – the famed Iberia of which I'd heard so many enchanting rumors and had always yearned to visit – within a few days, having only come to England upon some mysterious mission that he seemed unwilling to discuss with the others who plied him with wine and questions, but found that no matter how tipsy Ignacio became, his tongue would loosen only for ribald jokes and rollicking ballads whose merriment was superceded only by their undeniable obscenity. He simply sidestepped any reference to his purpose in being on the English soil, replying to rudely direct questions with a roguish smirk, a shake of his head and, occasionally, a spritely if lewd gesture that lightheartedly advised the questioner to drop the entire subject.

    Naturally, my own militant curiosity was ignited and once I was aboard the intriguing Ignacio I knew his secret would be shared with me, sooner or later. Now all my former depression and ennui were gone – vanished in the excitement of my new host and his mysterious affairs, whatever they might be; and the anticipation of reaching sunny Spain at last.

    One evening, as Ignacio sat roistering with the other sailors, a small boy appeared at the hotel bearing a message for him – which the lad whispered into Ignacio's ear. The immediate change that came over Ignacio was impressive. His face became solemn. His manner matter-of-fact. Gone was the merry, boisterous Ignacio. In his place was now a sober Ignacio who quickly excused himself and went into the darkness of the streets, heading toward the docks where ships were tied. Reaching a large and graceful vessel, he went aboard and straight to a cabin that could only have belonged to the master of the ship, judging from its exceptionally well furnished interior. There he found a short, dark man whose white hair and beard proclaimed his seniority, and whose air of authority announced his commanding presence on the vessel.

    “You wish to see me, Captain?” inquired Ignacio, speaking Spanish fluidly. “The boy brought your message to the hotel.”

    The captain nodded. “Yes, I would remind you, my friend, that we are scheduled to sail for Palma de Majorca in ten more days. And we are still short of our cargo count by two girls. We dare not return to Senor Bullpole without the exact number of virgins we were sent to obtain. So I must ask you to give me an account of your experiences in London, successful or otherwise.”

    Ignacio shrugged. “I've already found ten genuine virgins. I'm terribly afraid they were the only such creatures in all of the sinful city of London. I doubt that there is another untouched female, under the age of ten, in the entire area.”

    “The jest is a poor one! You must find two more virgins. Senor Bullpole expressly sent us to fetch him a dozen English virgins – and God have mercy on our tortured bodies and demented souls if we fail to deliver exactly that number of girls, each virginal, to him!”

    Ignacio grinned impudently. “You make our esteemed employer sound like a monster, Captain! I doubt that he would flay the hide from our bodies just because we are unable to bring him the exact number of girls he requested!”

    The captain's fist thumped his desktop violently and his face reddened with anger. “You speak from ignorance! You don't know that man like I do! He is more god than man! And when he gives an order, those who do not or cannot obey it to the letter are punished most horribly!” Agitated, the captain poured two brimming glasses of wine, handing one to Ignacio grumpily. “He didn't request anything, my foolish young friend! He ordered twelve English virgins and, by the seething seas, that's exactly what must be delivered. Twelve!”

    The captain downed his wine in gulps.

    “Well, perhaps the hunting would be better if I took a boat and went upriver,” suggested Ignacio, thoughtfully sipping his wine. “There are certain small villages all along the Thames. Country girls are more gullible than their citified sisters. I would have a greater chance of finding virgins in the rural villages.”

    “Do it!” agreed the captain. “Just have two more lovely innocents back aboard this ship within ten days, my boy!”

    “Our lady-doctor will examine them – as all the others?” Ignacio grinned again. “What a strange voyage this has been! All women sailors! Even a woman doctor! You and I the only males aboard ship! A most unusual journey, eh, my captain?”

    The captain nodded, smiling. “Precisely the sort of cold logic Senor Bullpole uses in all his varied enterprises. A crew of women to prevent the cargo – bless their helpless little cunts – from being deflowered during a long voyage! A woman doctor for the same reason – and to carefully examine the cargo before shipping. An aged captain, too old to ruin any of the shipment!”

    “And me?” laughed Ignacio. “I'm neither female nor too old! What about me?”

    “Bait. Handsome, virile and charming bait to lure the little fishes aboard! To flirt with them and drug them senseless – and you'd better remember never to deflower any of them, once we're safely at sea, my boy!” The captain peered solemnly at the younger man. “If I had to report damaged cargo, it would be on your head!”

    “I'm only human!” chuckled Ignacio. “And I've been so busy fishing for Senor Bullpole, I've not had a chance to spear anything for myself – and I feel the need, believe me!”

    “I shudder to think what fate would befall you, were any of those darling cargo items damaged!”

    “Don't fret yourself, my captain! I shall keep my hunger under control until we are in Majorca and I can vent it on the lovely, passionate wenches of home!” Ignacio went to the door. “Until later, when I will return with two more virgins.”

    “Don't fail!” urged the captain.

    Ignacio shrugged and left the cabin. Sauntering along the deck toward the landing, he was suddenly accosted by a broad-beamed female garbed in sailor's clothing. Only her immense and sagging breasts gave any hint that she was indeed female. Her dark hair had been crudely hacked to a short length and her face was weathered and harsh.

    “Hello, pretty boy!” she bellowed, clasping an arm around Ignacio's shoulders. “I'll bet you've not had a good fucking in at least an hour, eh?”

    He grinned good naturedly but pushed her fat arm off his shoulders. “At least, you sea-going old cow! Why – are you in heat?”

    “I'm always in heat! Especially for the long hard belaying pin you carry between your hairy legs!” She grabbed at his crotch and he evaded her without difficulty, laughing.

    “You'd never feel it!” he assured her. “The man doesn't walk earth who has a prick large enough to fill that gaping hole of yours!”

    Anger flooded her depraved face. “Then your huge tongue would do nicely! I'll wager I'd feel anything that big in my heated pit!”

    Ignacio shook his head, still grinning as he ran lightly down the gangway. “Go suck your own flabby tits until you come, you poor old salty slut! When I ram my pole into a pussy – it'll be something tight and snug between the lovely thighs of a girl half your age! Who wants old women?”

    She screamed energetically, the vile words of her colorful obscenities echoing back and forth across the docks as he strolled swiftly back to the hotel. There, instead of rejoining the others in drinking and singing, he went directly to bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

    What unusual self-control, I thought, getting a much needed meal as he slept, for such a young and healthy man! It's a wonder he's not prowling the streets for a conquest, considering how long he's gone without sexual enjoyment of any kind. Why, he hasn't even relieved himself by his own hand all these nights that I've been on him.

    I was to learn Ignacio's limits, later.

    Lounging at the tiller of the small boat as it slowly sailed along the flowing river a few yards distant from the lushly green banks of the shore, Ignacio studied the sky with narrowed eyes and yawned.

    For the past two days he had wandered upriver, slowing down as he approached each village beside the water, sometimes mooring the boat and going into the villages where he wandered around or went to the pubs – always alert for any sign of young and innocent-looking girls.

    Abruptly, he straightened up, his face brightening as he saw the three girls kneeling on the flat rocks of the banks, washing clothes. They spied the boat and their laughter became a bit louder, a trifle shriller. When it approached and they saw the handsome Ignacio in it, each girl began behaving coyly.

    “What a lovely sight – three beautiful sirens luring poor sailors to their doom!” Ignacio moored the boat beside the rocks as he chattered. “My eyes must be playing tricks on me! I never knew malicious little sirens were so completely enchanting!”

    The trio giggled deliriously.

    “La, sir!” said one of them, a busty brunette with flashingly bold green eyes. “You make fun of us – and us only ignorant country girls! What cruel sport!”

    “Nay,” protested Ignacio in mock shock. “Why, I haven't a cruel bone in my body!”

    “No, but you are muscled most completely!” The slender blonde with the bee-stung lips eyed his manly frame with a wistful expression on her gentle face. “I've never seen such a beautiful person!”

    This remark led to much vying among the girls for his attention. And he gradually – laughter, joking and finally sincerity – worked the entire conversation around to suggesting that the four of them picnic upon the river, showing them the fine repast of cold meat and chilled wine in the boat, nestled within a tub of glittering ice.

    They were hesitant, at first, protesting that they would be punished for taking too long to do their washing chores, but Ignacio skillfully kept whetting their appetites and exciting them with flattery and romantic descriptions of the joy of eating and drinking while drifting along the river; and they finally succumbed – each of them allowing him to help them into the boat, giggling guiltily over their shoulders with childish delight at having found the courage to play hooky from their tasks.

    He steered the craft away from the shore and allowed it to plow through the current, heading upriver, securing the tiller so he could set about preparing to serve his shapely guests who sat clustered in the bow, eyes bright with excitement.

    None of them saw him expertly drop the tiny tablets into two of the glasses as he filled them with the ruby wine. The tablets dissolved instantly.

    Chatting merrily as they consumed the feast and imbibed their chilled wine, they enjoyed the ride as the boat slowly moved along. Ignacio watched the two girls – whose wine he'd drugged – with smiling close attentiveness.

    It seemed, judging from the conversation, that all three wenches were cousins. The two brunettes were seventeen years of age, the little blonde only fifteen years old; and none of them had ever been more than a mile from the village in which they had been born and reared. They listened to Ignacio describe his native Spain with interest, holding their chins in their smooth hands and gazing adoringly up at him.

    Slowly, the eyes of the blonde and one of the brunettes began drooping tiredly. Soon they were yawning openly. A few moments later both simply went to sleep – sprawling clumsily across each other, murmuring incoherently as they lost consciousness now that the drug was taking effect.

    “What rude girls!” said the brunette, angrily shaking her cousins' shoulders and glancing apologetically at a quietly smiling Ignacio, too disturbed to realize the way he was eyeing her full curves, the heavy way her breasts hung protruding from her thin frock as they thrust against the material, the glimpses of her shapely legs as her skirt moved upward when she changed stance.

    He laughed strangely. “I'm not concerned about their manners, pretty one. Only about the state of their innocence!”

    She stared at him. “What do you mean, sir?”

    “Well, I hope they're virgins.”

    She blushed. “Of course they are. My cousins are good girls. Not that the boys in our village haven't tried to change that, because boys are always trying to take a girl's purity away from her! But why should you care about their innocence?”

    “I have my reason.” He motioned for her to come to him, smiling steadily. “I'm sorry you will be left behind. I can see that you're fond of these cousins. You will miss them. Come here, and I'll comfort you for awhile.”

    “Wh-What do you mean 'left behind?'“ She quavered, fear oozing across her face. “I think it's time you took us back to our washing.”

    “Are you a virgin, too?”

    Her blush deepened. “Fie, sir, that's none of your business! Now kindly turn this boat to the shore while I awaken my cousins! I fear you have become too bold and spoiled this afternoon, and I ask you to land us where you found us.”

    “And so I shall – after you and I have lain together, tasting the delights of love!” He went to her, his arm encircling her trim waist while she stood paralyzed in stunned and startled fear, her widened eyes regarding him with sudden awareness of his intent, and she resisted numbly as he pulled her toward the stern of the boat where there was space enough for two to recline. “I hunger for the pleasure of knowing your body, feeling your passion meet mine! I must have you, pretty one!”

    “No!” she whispered. “Not that!”

    He began kissing her throat, nuzzling his face into the smooth soft flesh of her shoulder, pushing her dress down over the satiny shoulders and baring her high firm breasts while she made sounds of protest, struggling vainly in his strong arms.

    His mouth found her pale nipples, closing over one and then the other as he greedily nursed at her breasts, changing back and forth with hungry glee as he pulled her to the deck beside him despite her frantic efforts to free herself.

    “Oh, stop!” she cried. “I cannot stand this sort of intimacy with a stranger!”

    “You've done it with others who were not strangers?” He lifted his face from her glisteningly wet nipples. “You've allowed friends to be this familiar?”

    She averted her eyes. “Y-Yes, I've allowed a boy I liked to kiss and suck my titties – but only that. Nothing more. And only because I was fond of him and his need to nurse upon me was so great.”

    “My need is even greater,” he murmured, putting his hand up her thighs, caressing the warm flesh of her inner legs and feeling her tremble as his fingers encountered the crisp hair matted over her plump mound with its velvety lips. “I beg you to have mercy upon my need, too, pretty one, and let me fuck you!”

    “It's – It's wrong! It's sinful! It's -”

    “It's inevitable now that I hold you in my arms and the lust is simmering in my balls!” He inserted a finger into the lips of her crevice, feeling the exciting moistness that was gathering there and knowing that she was ready for the love act. “Here, I must put my mouth on you!”

    Quickly he bent over, spreading her thighs and burying his head into her crotch, his mouth seeking her organ and closing over it with greedy grunts of pleasure as he tongued and mouthed and tugged and licked at the slitted mound.

    She groaned, her upraised legs tightening around his bobbing head. Writhing, she endured the shocks of sensation exploding deliriously as his mouth played urgently upon her organ – the unbelievable joy of it dimming her senses.

    “Oh – Oh, G-God, sir!” she crooned in a quivering tone. “You're driving me to madness with that tongue! I – I can't stand much more of this business!”

    Without a word, he shifted positions – lying between her legs and taking out a large stiff penis from his trousers. Its dull-reddish tip gleamed in the sunlight as it stood erect upon a white hard column of muscle. Guiding it with his hand, Ignacio pushed the throbbing head of his organ into the wet soft lips of the girl's cunt, hearing her gasp as she felt the ruthless hardness of the male part pressing against her vulnerable opening.

    “Pi-Please don't deflower me, sir!” she pleaded between sobs. “Please don't rob me of my purity!”

    He thrust the column of pulsating muscle into her snug hole, feeling it plunge through a thin wall of tissue and hearing her scream of pain as his penis stabbed deeply into her body until it could go no further. He lay there, enjoying the warmth and tightness enveloping his member while she cried steadily.

    “There, there!” he comforted her. “The worst is over now. There won't be any more pain. I'll move carefully and you should even feel pleasure in a short while, pretty one. Fucking can be fine for the girl, too.”

    “I'm – I'm no longer pure!” she wailed miserably.

    “True, but you'll survive.”

    Slowly he began undulating his body, bringing his enlarged, stiffened penis almost out of her hole, stopping when only the throbbing tip was still within her slippery tunnel and slowly reentering the passageway in a steady return to its depths which gradually made her squirm and grunt as lust took hold of her senses and a new hunger for satisfaction that she had never before known came upon her body.

    “Faster!” she demanded. “Harder!”

    He complied, increasing the tempo and force of each thrust until he was rapidly pumping the organ in and out of her with near savage intensity, and she was frenziedly lifting her satiny bottom to meet each incoming stroke, welcoming it within herself with animalistic mewings and cries of enjoyment that set his blood afire.

    The boat rocked with the steady motion of their bodies as they – locked in each other's arms – fucked wildly in a mounting clamor of urgent need until they suddenly climaxed, biting and clawing at one another, grunting harshly and shuddering as their spasms of orgasm shook them physically for long seconds before quieting to a numbed exhaustion. There they lay, motionless and silent save for their labored breathing.

    “By the wicked winds!” Ignacio swore. “That was a most marvelous fuck, pretty one! It must have drained half the juices from my balls!”

    “It – It was wonderful!” She sounded dreamily content. “I never realized fucking was so much pleasure! My, but it does leave a girl shaken to the marrow of her bones!” She suddenly rotated her broad hips in a playful movement. “La, but your nice big truncheon feels good in me! See how it stiffens so quickly again when I lower myself against it and move thusly!”

    “You excite me again, pretty one!” grunted Ignacio thickly, grasping the cheeks of her rising and falling bottom and driving himself urgently into her, again and again. Soon they were repeating the act, each straining to the other in a threshing violence of sensual delight. Once more they reached a climactic frenzy followed by total weariness.

    “Oh, l-la, but I l-love that!” she panted.

    “Fine! Now you will tumble with the boys and enjoy yourself with no more nonsensical worry about the importance of purity!” He glanced at the sun's position. “But it's time that I was on my way. I must return to London.”

    Her expression sobered as her eyes went to the inert forms of her unconscious cousins. “Surely you jested about taking them away, sir? You're returning all of us to our village, aren't you?”

    Smiling grimly, he steered the boat downstream now without speaking, his eyes searching the shore for the flattened rocks where he had found the girls. He brought the craft in to shore when it came to the rocks he sought.

    “All right, pretty one,” he said quietly, turning to the girl and extending his hand. “Here are your unfinished chores. Your village lies just beyond. Allow me to help you step ashore.”

    “B-But my cousins!” She fell to her knees, her hands clenched prayerfully together, her eyes imploring him. “Please, sir! Put them ashore, too!”

    He shook his head, unsmilingly.

    “I gave you my virginity, my body! Isn't that a decent price for their safety?”

    “They'll be perfectly safe, pretty one. No harm will befall them. Quite the opposite. They'll be guarded and cared for as though they were royal princesses. They are destined to live in splendor, in exquisite luxury. You have no need to fear for them. Rather, envy them because your future will be a poor and dreary one compared to the life that lies ahead for your cousins.”

    “B-But you're kidnapping them. They don't even know you're taking them away!”

    “Best that they don't since it spares the pretty creatures the anguish of leaving familiar persons and places.” He picked the girl up in his arms and stepping over the gunwale of the rocking boat, put her firmly on her feet atop a flat boulder. “My grateful thanks to you for the pleasure you gave me today, pretty one.”

    No sooner was she deposited upon the rock than she began hysterically pleading again, dropping to her knees in supplication.

    “Be merciful, sir! Please don't steal my poor cousins! They'll perish from fear and homesickness, being only simple country girls who have known nothing but our village life!”

    Ignacio clambered back into the boat, his handsome features a stern mask of determination. Casting off, he went to the drugged girls and covered their bodies with a large piece of canvas. Then he stepped to the tiller – ignoring the girl still crying and begging him – where he brought the craft around in the river's current and soon was heading downstream, the figure kneeling on the rock growing smaller, her entreaties becoming fainter until we rounded a gentle bend in the river's course and she could no longer be seen or heard.

    “Por Dios!” Ignacio swore softly. “That was a good thump or two, planting my heated seed into her little garden of delight! Now if only these two pretty ones are as untouched as their lovely cousin was – my task is completed!”

    He began softly humming one of the Spanish ditties and there was a note of homesickness in his voice. Considerately, I deferred luncheon out of respect to my host's sad mood.


    Weeks later we were still on the billowing seas as the great ship plowed over the endless waves on its course toward Spain, there to deliver the cargo of twelve frightened, helpless virgins quartered below decks in a large compartment that was most comfortably furnished.

    Once Ignacio had brought the last two girls aboard – still unconscious from the powerful drug slipped into their wine – and the woman-doctor had examined them carefully, confirming the virginity of each inert girl, the captain ordered the female crew into action and we departed upon the next tide.

    Now that the voyage had settled down to a rather tedious, day after day, sameness and everything was going satisfactorily to the aged captain's experienced eye, he began sharing his wine and company with my host each evening.

    “Here, have another glass, my boy!” The ruddy-faced old master generously refilled their goblets nearly to overflowing in his tipsy hospitality. “Even though we're out of that uncivilized chilly English weather and well into the humane warmth of a decent climate, we have yet hundreds of watery miles to traverse before sighting our native island! So drink up! The wine of home will lighten your heart and ease the ache in your balls!” He gabbled with laughter as Ignacio glanced up, sexual tension starkly reflected in his dark eyes. “Oh, yes, I was young once! I know the hunger that gathers in a young man's loins at sea – after weeks of enforced celibacy! And I definitely recall the damnable agony of wanting a woman's warmth and wetness when there was only my calloused sailorman's fist to fuck!”

    “Yes, old man, but you weren't at sea with an even dozen virgins stowed below!” Ignacio sounded sullen. “It's like starving with a feast of food stored in a nearby room!”

    The captain nodded, an expression of sympathy on his weathered face. “I know, my boy, I know. Well, thanks be to the wisdom of God, I'm beyond that craving now and no longer bothered by the presence or the absence of cunt. But I appreciate your fitful condition. Why don't you tumble with a few of the crew? Granted that they're hardly a desirable group of flabby old cows but cunt's cunt even on a shapeless unwashed sailor-woman!”

    Ignacio shook his head. “Not on your hoary old beard, my captain! When you gave them shore-leave in London, they must have hoggishly opened their thick legs to every diseased degenerate on the waterfront because several of them have already begun showing the juicy running sores of the sex-pox – and I would sooner jam my one and only prick into a shark's toothy maw than stick it into their hairy nests of pestilence!”

    “By the sainted sunken wrecks of time!” bellowed the captain drunkenly. “You are no fool, my boy! You have a fine head on your shoulders! So you'd best rape your fist and content yourself with visions of Majorcan wenches spreading their firm thighs to offer their hot little holes up to you!”

    Ignacio nodded, moaning softly as he envisioned the captain's words.

    “But however you cool your heated lust, I implore and advise you, my boy, to constantly remember that our delectable cargo is not for your virile thrusting! They belong to our employer right down to the last nipple, bellybutton and clitoris! Continue refraining from even thinking of them and you'll live to my ripe age with your lusty penis still wholesomely rooted in your crotch!”

    Ignacio stared dully into space.

    Mildly bored by the evenness of the days and nights, I left my host and proceeded to explore the ship from stem to stern – taking care not to be wafted overboard in my cautiously estimated leaps from hither to yon, knowing that even a creature as tiny as myself could not survive in that salty turmoil of foaming waves very long without being swallowed alive by some voracious form of marine life. When I had finished roaming the length of the surging, rolling vessel and had even sampled the blood of several sailor-women – finding it quite tasty indeed, spiced as it was by their fondness for huge amounts of garlic – I hopped below decks and began seeking the compartment containing the virgins.

    Finding and entering it via a keyhole spacious enough to accommodate one as small as myself, I jumped to the safety of an overhead beam from where I studied the girls in the thickly carpeted room that was strewn with cushions and pillows.

    Each girl had been fitted with a short tunic of thin material, its flimsiness covering their flesh but hardly hiding their outlines beneath its nearly transparent quality. And since the hemline of the tunics barely reached to their shapely mid-thighs when they were standing, the rise of the material when they crouched, sat or moved about exposed many a rounded pair of white or tanned buttocks, many a softly tufted thicket of pubic hair – the tints ranging from jet-black to pale gold – as well as the varying plumpness of their fat little mounds beneath their cunthair, some of the crevices more firmly lipped than others. This assortment would indeed be torture to any male, much less a young man in Ignacio's needful condition. I began to understand the locked door, the female who stood guarding it armed with a pistol and the fact that only other female crew-members served the prisoners their daily food and drink, or exchanged the stinking toilet pots for clean, empty ones.

    The virgins seemed listless. Their conversations were conducted with the hopeless air of girls who had despairingly accepted their fate in the stifling knowledge that they could not do otherwise. But, here and there, a girl would speak longingly of her home and her loved ones until her own words brought a flood of tears from those around her and herself. They comforted each other most sympathetically, and had my nature been equipped with human empathy, I might have found their emotions distressing.

    Leaving through the keyhole, I had no sooner cleared it and was preparing to hurl myself neatly to a nearby railing on the hatchway when I saw a woman-sailor descending the hatchway stairs, a grim smile wreathing her masculine features as she went to the fat crew-member guarding the virgins. I hurtled to an overhead lamp where I sat watching with immense interest as the woman with cropped hair sidled up to the female guarding the compartment, deftly patting the guard upon her massive behind which made her simper coyly.

    “What do you want, Big Tongue?” asked the guard, enjoying the pinching and petting the other woman continued giving the shapeless bulges of the guard's sagging breasts beneath her coarsely woven clothing. “You shouldn't be here. You know it's against the captain's orders for you to be making love to any of us while we're on duty! Oh, that feels so nice!”

    “Fuck the old winepot and his shitty orders!” her voice was a male-ish baritone. “He knew I was a lesbian when he signed me aboard, the wily old fartbag! And he knows I do the work of three male sailors! Anyway, I'll take care of your needs this evening, dearie. I'm after something special, right now!” She stopped fondling the guard and withdrew a brightly gleaming piece of jewelry from her shirt. “This is for you, darling girl!”

    “Ooh, for me?” The guard's eyes widened possessively and she reached for the trinket but the one called Big Tongue held it teasingly out of reach. “If it's mine, please give it to me, Big Tongue! Don't be mean to me! I want that pretty!”

    “How much do you want it?”

    “What do you mean?” The guard looked puzzled.

    “Do you want this pin-pretty badly enough to let me take one of those girls off into a quiet corner for a bit of… ah… education? If you'll let me do that, the pin's yours!”

    Hesitation oozed over the guard's fat face. “I – I don't know. I'm not supposed to let any -”

    “I'll add my ring – the one with the entwined serpents whose eyes are rubies – to your price,” quickly bribed the wily lesbian. “You've always wanted that ring. It's yours if you'll just give me any one of the girls for an hour! Nobody will ever know. You'll be safe!”

    Avarice danced in the guard's eyes.

    “All right!” she agreed. “But you mustn't take more than an hour. I'll be on duty here that long. And you can't take the girl above-decks.”


    The guard unlocked the door and vanished into the compartment. While she was gone, the big lesbian glanced up the hatchway, satisfying her caution that nobody was coming. She licked her lips in anticipation as the guard led a slender, petite blonde girl out of the compartment, a bewildered expression upon the girl's sweet face.

    “Remember,” warned the guard, taking the pin. “Only an hour! No longer!”

    The lesbian grasped the girl's arm, pulling her away and leading her toward some crates stacked in a far corner. “Come over here, darling!” She boomed pleasantly. “I want to have a little chat with you!”

    Once hidden behind the crates, the lesbian turned to the confused girl with an expression of undeniable lust upon her harshly strange features. The girl sensed the woman's unwholesome interest, shrinking in revulsion from her.

    “I want to-to go back with the others!” the girl whimpered. “I d-don't want to talk to y-you!”

    “Now is that any way to act?” The lesbian began gently stroking the girl's long silky tresses, slipping her other arm around the girl's tiny waist and drawing her close. “Why, I wager you haven't had any real affection in a long, long time!”

    “Pi-Please let me go back!”

    “Now, now! Just relax and let me show you some affection, you lovely thing! What have we here?” A muscular hand cupped one of the small high breasts, caressing it strongly. “My, what an exciting bump you have there! Two of them yet!”

    “D-Don't do that!”

    “Here, let me see what those tempting bumps look like!” The lesbian pulled the girl's tunic down over satiny white shoulders, exposing the hard little breasts with their pale rosy nipples. “Why, they're just beautiful!”

    The girl cried out softly as the lesbian's face suddenly pressed into the breasts, the thick lips nibbling the smooth flesh and finally seeking one of the nipples, closing about it with a wet greedy noise as she began sucking violently. The girl struggled vainly to free herself but the powerful arms held her fast. While she nursed with savage hunger, the lesbian slowly forced the girl upon her back to the floor, a hand crawling up between the girl's thighs.

    “No! D-Don't!” screeched the terrified girl, thrashing wildly about. “D-Don't touch me there!”

    The hand came flying upward, slapping the girl across the mouth in a stinging blow that silenced her screaming to muted whimperings of protest.

    “Quiet, you ninny!” said the lesbian, momentarily taking her busy mouth from a nipple. “You'll enjoy this, you silly thing! All women enjoy it!”

    “I – I don't l-like it! It's n-not natural! Y-You're a woman! You're n-not supposed to m-make love to another w-woman!”

    Another slap, harder this time and the girl subsided into broken sobs of hopelessness, submitting to the hand which found her chubby mound and parted the velvety lips with fingers that caressed the wet interior until they found the clitoris. As they toyed with it, the lesbian's eager mouth sought a pink-tipped breast again. She sucked hungrily as her fingers played with the girl's tender cunt.

    The girl moaned and writhed as the lesbian enjoyed the young breasts and feverishly handled the moist warmth of the slitted pubic mound nestled in its foliage of golden hair.

    Without warning a rigid finger plunged into the vaginal entrance – and the girl shrieked, the shrill cry echoing throughout the compartment.

    “Not so loud!” called the guard nervously. “You'll have the captain down here!”

    “There, there!” soothed the lesbian mockingly, changing her position so she now knelt between the girl's spread legs. “It's only a moment of pain! It's over now. Just a few droplets of blood, my lovely! I'll soon have them washed away!”

    The girl's hysterical sobs suddenly erupted into gasps as the lesbian's face lowered to the golden hair, her mouth engulfing the moist lips and she began nursing upon the girl's cunt with steady spasms of her jaws – a tongue sliding into the vagina with darting thrusts that kept the girl gasping and grunting as she squirmed in a frenzy of sensual reaction to the act being performed upon her sensitive parts.

    “Oh… Oh… Oh!” she panted, throwing her head back and forth. “Oh, I can't stand the feeling of that much longer!”

    The lesbian sucked and slobbered more swiftly.

    Footsteps on the hatchway stairs sounded loudly and before the startled guard could whisper a warning, Ignacio had descended the steps and stood looking about suspiciously. The guard swallowed hard and trembled before his towering presence.

    “I heard a scream,” he stated. “The captain sent me down to investigate. What has been happening down here?”

    From behind the crates came a loud moan from the girl's tortured throat. The lesbian froze, lifting her head slowly and waiting. Ignacio strode to the crates and peered behind them, seeing the girl prone on the floor with the lesbian kneeling over her.

    “Come out of there!” Ignacio ordered.

    Slowly the lesbian rose to her feet. The girl got up weakly, following the lesbian out from behind the crates and facing Ignacio. His eyes gleamed with lust as they traveled up and down the girl's lissome curves. He gave the lesbian a brief glance of utter loathing and contempt.

    “Sampling the cargo, eh?” he said coldly.

    “You might say that,” jeered the lesbian. “She's no longer cargo. Not anymore!”

    “I miss your meaning, warped one.”

    “You'll understand it soon enough!”

    His craving eyes ran over the trembling girl's body again. She stood with downcast eyes staring blankly at her feet, touseled locks hanging in loose disarrangement around her oval face.

    “All right,” Ignacio said authoritatively, taking a deep breath and looking as though he had just made a decision. “On your way, twisted one. Stay away from here after this or you'll regret it!”

    “We'll see who regrets this day!” she sneered.

    “Come with me,” he said to the girl, leading her to the crates. “I wish to question you in privacy about what has happened here.”

    The women watched him and the submissive girl disappeared behind the crates, exchanging a glance of understanding.

    “He means to have her,” whispered the guard.

    The lesbian nodded, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her broad mouth. “When you get off duty,” she murmured, “report that fact to the captain. I think he'll be better able to understand why the cargo consists of only eleven virgins – once he knows what that overbearing bastard has been up to! Now don't forget to report it!”

    The guard nodded in agreement.

    When Ignacio silently lay upon the unresisting girl and pushed her shapely legs apart with hands that shook from the lust shuddering within him, she closed her eyes and lifted her feet – presenting her dewy cunt to his avid gaze. With a muttered sound he pulled his stiffened penis from his pants, allowing them to drop to his knees, and holding the large reddish-tipped organ in his hand – guided it to the glistening lips encircled by her pale gold hair, grunting pleasurably as he thrust the cock into her. She moaned softly, wrapping her legs around his waist as he put his arms under her white shoulders, undulating his hips which drove the throbbing prick in and out of her tight hole in stabbing motions that drew sounds of enjoyment from both of them as he steadily fucked her.

    “Isn't this… better… than a… finger?” he asked, without stopping the driving strokes. “Surely… you… can tell… the… difference.”

    “It's… different,” she mumbled flatly.

    “Raise your… bottom… when I… thrust… into you,” he requested.

    She began doing as he asked, and the tempo increased as his lust boiled along the length of the rigid hose that went slipping in and out of her tunnel, his movements becoming more violent as his orgasm neared, inducing a frenzy of urgent need for release. Then he was pounding away at the tender crotch, growling his enjoyment as the hot juices exploded from the tip of his organ and went spurting deeply into her depths in savage spasms that ignited her own passion.

    Squealing wildly, she clung to him – frantically undulating herself against him and riding the full length of the still-hard column upon which she was impaled, grunting softly as she came. When her climax had ended, she slumped back upon the floor in exhaustion, panting rapidly.

    Ignacio smiled down at her. “That was just splendid, wasn't it!”

    She nodded, smiling shyly.

    “I'm sorry you were deflowered by the mere finger of a sickening pervert. I would have much preferred divesting you of your innocence, myself.”

    “You would have hurt more. Your – your thing is so much bigger than a finger, and the finger was painful enough.”

    “I suppose that's true.”

    She shifted restlessly, wincing as she did.

    “What's the matter?” he asked.

    “I'm very sore down there now. Please remove yourself, sir. I hurt quite badly from all the attention that's been given to my parts this day.”

    He pulled his still-rigid penis from the moist hole with reluctance, studying her face closely as he withdrew. “Would you be willing to do something for me? Something that will cause you no further discomfort but would give me great pleasure and the satisfaction my body demands?”

    “I – I g-guess so,” she replied.

    Kneeling beside her, his penis upright and jutting stiffly, he indicated the organ with a vague gesture. “Just take it into your mouth and suck upon it as nicely as you can until my juices gush forth,” he explained. “This will relieve me and I shall be most grateful to you for the relief, pretty one.”

    “Is th-that a natural thing to do?”

    He laughed. “As my sainted grandfather used to assure me, 'anything that can be accomplished without physical injury is perfectly natural and to be enjoyed as a gift from God'! Of course, the old man was the finest of libertines and a dedicated lecher who had seduced a woman less than a third his age the day before he died, at ninety-six!”

    “Well, if it's not unnatural, I'll do it because I find you strangely charming – and I want to give you the relief you say is needed.”

    “How gracious, pretty one!”

    She lowered her face to the tip of his penis, her mouth closing over the plum-shaped head. Making a slight face of distaste, she began sucking inexpertly.

    “Go up and down,” advised Ignacio. “Slide your delightful mouth the length of it – or as far as you can go, anyway. Oh, that's better. Much better, pretty one! Oh, that feels so good! Suck harder and faster now! That's it – that's it!”

    With a guttural moan of ecstasy he grabbed her bobbing head in both hands as his juice surged up and exploded into her busy mouth. She gulped the thick hot liquid down, swallowing it with effort. Finally she lifted her head, wiping her greasy lips with the back of her hand.

    “Oh, that was just fine!” he told her. “You did it quite nicely for one who has obviously never performed that charitable act of mercy before in her entire life!”

    “It was awful!” she declared. “It tasted just terrible! I don't think I'll ever do that again as long as I live!”

    “Too bad you feel like that. I was hoping we might do it to each other often during this dreary voyage – just to pass the time pleasantly.”

    “No. I'll let you fuck me whenever you can get the guard to let me out of that compartment where they keep me and the others. I liked that. Especially the part where every nerve in my body was on fire. It was heavenly! But no more of this odd business with my mouth, sir!”

    “All right.” He led her back to the guard, a replacement for the previous woman crew-member. He watched her taken into the compartment. Then he went topside directly to the captain's cabin where he discovered the old man peering into his wine glass with a troubled expression upon his wrinkled face. The captain looked up as Ignacio entered the cabin without knocking.

    “Por favor, if you please, Captain – a matter of some importance!” said Ignacio.

    “Yes, I've already heard.” The captain's face grew gloomier. “Now we have but eleven virgins aboard. Which will be impossible to explain to Senor Bullpole, who has less use for explanations than he has for those who bother to make them.”

    “B-But I didn't -”

    “I know, you didn't deflower the girl. The ugly lesbian did. I easily figured that out after one of her girls tried to attach the blame to you. A clumsy ruse. But the fact remains that you and I are in great danger now.”

    “But why, Captain?”

    “You have no ears, my boy? Haven't I been trying to convince you that it was imperative for us to deliver the exact number of virgins we were sent to obtain for Senor Bullpole?” He sighed deeply and drank from his brimming goblet, motioning to the bottle. “Pour yourself a libation, Ignacio. You will need it after I manage to get it through your thick skull that we both have been put in a very damning light now that the cargo has been lessened. I've already given orders that should another girl be taken out of that compartment – whoever is on duty guarding it will be thrown overboard to furnish the sharks with a meal.”

    “Can't we just tell Senor Bullpole who did it?” Ignacio stared hopefully at the old man. “Surely, once the real culprit has been -”

    “She is in irons and will face Bullpole. And she will suffer horribly for her audacity, you may rest assured. Horribly. Senor Bullpole takes much pleasure in devising terrible deaths for those who disobey him. Almost as much pleasure as he does in the attention he gives his playthings.”

    “Then we have nothing to -”

    “Silence!” roared the captain. “You err, stupid lad! We have plenty to worry about. You and I were placed in the position of authority and responsibility to deliver twelve virgins. We share the blame with that disgusting creature whose greedy finger has ruptured our futures along with a mere hymen!”

    “Will it go very badly for us?”

    “It may go very badly indeed. Sometimes Senor Bullpole is quite unpredictable. There is no way of knowing what our fate will be. We can only keep the repulsive creature alive who caused this problem – and hope that our punishments will be relatively light and merciful by comparison to what will be done to her for having spoiled the number of girls to be delivered – their virginities intact as by Senor Bullpole's written order.' He waved a scroll written in a scholarly script.

    “Will my having possessed the girl after she was deflowered cause me to be punished severely?” Ignacio's face was pale with fear now. “I was so heated by lust that I didn't stop to reason.”

    “Only Senor Bullpole can judge that.”

    “My God! Is he likely to kill me?” Sweat rose in beads from the younger man's forehead. “You've been in his employ all your life! You must have some influence with him, my captain! Don't let him have me butchered just because I behaved in a humanly manner like any other man!”

    “Compose yourself!” demanded the captain, rising to his feet. “Stop acting like a coward! We have something that must be done. Something rather unpleasant but necessary. Come along.”

    Together they went on deck where the entire crew of women had gathered. Two of them held the woman who had been guarding the compartment when the lesbian had bribed her. She sagged, slack with fear, in the stout arms of her guards.

    Facing the assemblage, the captain's stony face regarded them grimly for a long moment of silence. Then he began speaking, warning them that what was about to be displayed would also be the fate of any of them foolish enough to tamper with the precious shipment of human purity below decks. Then, with a barely perceptible nod of his head, he signaled to the women holding the one to be used as an example of what disobedience would bring.

    They roughly hoisted her up, hurling her over the side. A line had been securely tied about her thick ankles and it was paid-out swiftly as she fell screaming in terror – the loud plunging sound of her body entering the sea cutting off her pitiful shriek abruptly.

    The sharks that had followed the ship for days converged rapidly upon the woman struggling in the water, yanking her under the surface which roiled violently – turning bright red. The whole thing took less than a moment to happen before the widened eyes of the entire crew.

    When the line was hauled in, only a pair of feet shorn off at the shredded flesh and splintered bones above the ankles was left of the unfortunate woman who had been thrown to the sharks.

    The eleven virgins remained virgins for the rest of our voyage.


    By now, having heard so many fascinating things pertaining to the powerful and ruthless Senor Bullpole, I was exceedingly curious to experience his presence for myself and, perhaps, boldly taste the blood of one so distinctively fearful – as he seemed to be regarded by his employees.

    So when we finally sighted the island of Palma de Mojarca several weeks later and had sailed into its spacious harbor, I was agog with excitement that ordinary Fleas would never have felt but which I, as an extraordinarily perceptive creature – despite the humbleness of my station – endured with great impatience as the ship was docked.

    Then, too, I was tiring of the thin-blooded old captain upon whom I'd transferred myself, having found Ignacio's chronically sweaty flesh too difficult to easily traverse ever since he had begun perspiring most profusely night and day – probably due more to his fear of the impending punishment rather than the delightfully warm climate into which we had sailed and arrived.

    Hardly had the ship been secured to the wharf than phalanxes of black men – garbed in brightly hued loincloths, the silvery and golden metal of their fancy weapons gleaming brilliantly against their ebony flesh – marched aboard, some of the gigantic nubian guardsmen escorting the bevy of cowering and confused virgins ashore, the others taking the captain, the sullen-faced lesbian and Ignacio into custody.

    Directly we were led up a winding road to the imposing outer gate of an immense castle of mad architectural beauty – its Moorish lines and complicated decorative tile-work, a symphony of blatant and exotic art – where our guardsmen turned us over to other, more formally attired guardsmen who then marched us to the palace.

    Its interiors were unbelievably splendid and luxurious. Fine woven tapestries hung from the stone walls. Stairways and furniture were ornately carved from polished woods. The all-encompassing atmosphere was that of wealthy splendor and breath-taking space filled with rich colors and textures right down to the millions of cushions piled everywhere.

    We passed steadily from room to room, occasionally turning down broad hallways and passing huge windows that offered brief glimpses of intricately planted gardens or wide pools of glittering water. Finally we reached an immense room where we were halted, apparently to wait. The floor was thickly carpeted with an oriental pattern that reached from wall to wall. A slightly raised platform at one end of the mammoth room was piled with many of the brightly colored cushions. The ceiling seemed to arch at least fifty feet overhead, sunlight diffused by panes of glass that had been tinted somehow and made the interior glow softly.

    Then Senor Bullpole entered the fantastic room from a door nearby. He waddled slowly toward the small mountain of cushions – an immensely tall man whose bulging belly created a girth that diminished his stature most deceptively. Ponderously, he lowered his huge body to the cushions and settled himself without hurry. The guards moved us closer to where Bullpole lounged now, staring expressionlessly at those who had been brought before him.

    I was intrigued to find the man's eyes were a pale yellow color and they burned out of a handsome craggy face that showed no emotion. His skull was totally bald, having been shaved clean. His hands were large and graceful, toying with a medallion on a golden chain slung around his massive neck. When he finally opened his thin-lipped mouth and spoke, his voice was muted thunder.

    “I've been appraised of the facts concerning the shortage of your cargo, Captain,” he rumbled calmly. “I'm waiting to hear your explanation of this sad delivery. Please feel free to speak your mind.”

    The captain described the lesbian's bribing of the since deceased female guard and her subsequent deflowering of the virgin by finger. He spoke with confidence and great feeling, his disgust plain each time his rheumy eyes glanced at the lesbian who stood defiantly erect, glaring at Bullpole. When he came to the mention of Ignacio's sexual assault upon the deflowered virgin, the old man's tone changed to a low, supplicating note as he described the natural appetite of a healthy young man who had been at sea without relief sexually for weeks – and he concluded by throwing himself upon the mercy of Bullpole.

    There was a long silence during which Bullpole's eyes went from the captain to the lesbian to Ignacio and returned at last to the old man. He sighed deeply, shifting his great weight from one buttock to the other.

    “Well, justice must be done so that others will avoid this kind of mistake,” he said quietly, his bass-voice booming deeply. “Mercy is indeed due to those whose actions warrant it just as punishment must be meted out to those who deserve it. You, Captain, are the most responsible for this unfortunate shortage since you were the highest authority aboard ship.”

    “I realize that, sire,” mumbled the old man.

    “Therefore, you must die.”

    The captain's face blanched whitely. He wavered upon legs from which strength had ebbed at this death warrant.

    “However,” continued Bullpole, “since this is the first serious error you have allowed to be made in many years of faithful service – you shall die most easily and comfortably by your own hand. A certain drug will be given you. Take it before morning in your wine. You will feel no pain but you will be dead within seconds of imbibing the drug.”

    Bullpole nodded at the guards and they marched the stumbling captain out of the room. Now Bullpole studied Ignacio closely.

    “You are young and strong. I expect many years of service and loyalty from you.” The gonglike voice rang clear and low. “You behaved strictly according to the dictates of human nature. What saves you is the simple fact of timing that the girl was deflowered before you enjoyed her.”

    Ignacio trembled visibly, head bent.

    “You're to be punished in a manner most humiliating because it will be public, and in a fashion determined by your unfortunate breach of orders. Take him to the smaller arena.”

    Ignacio was dragged away roughly.

    Now the lesbian's defiance wilted beneath the steely gaze of Bullpole's golden eyes. She cowered miserably, her degenerate's face stricken with the terrified realization that her fate was going to be much worse than either of the others who had been adjudged and sentenced. She quivered with fright, falling to her knees.

    “What I did was natural, too, sire – for one born with my appetite for members of my own sex!” she wailed nasally. “Please be merciful to an old lesbian, sire! I didn't realize what I was doing!”

    “You took that which wasn't yours to have.” His tone was cold, unrelenting. “You robbed me – and those who rob me are my enemies.”

    “No, sire! I worked hard aboard ship! I'm as strong as any man! Mercy, sire!”

    “Your inborn hatred of the true male shall be your punishment. Since you loathe human males and consider yourself their sexual equal, I sentence you to a death by sexual intercourse with a male of a different species. Take her to the gorilla cage and wait until I join you there before beginning the entertainment her death will provide!”

    They dragged her out of the room, shrieking insanely with terror and screaming insults while she struggled wildly to get free of the guards' firm hold upon her unfeminine strength. Bullpole watched her departure with a curled lip.

    Having leaped to a nearby guard from the captain's body when he was being taken away, I now hurtled across the space separating the brawny guard from the mammoth Bullpole, landing deftly upon that great man so lightly that he never felt my presence.

    “Notify my usual entourage to be ready to accompany me to the entertainments of both that creature and the young man,” he ordered, and the guard nodded, leaving the room instantly. A few moments later, Bullpole rose to his feet with some effort and waddled across the room, entering a suite more bizarrely and beautifully furnished than anywhere else in the castle. Here, he drank some wine, ate a few pieces of fruit and studied himself in a flawless mirror, smiling blandly at his reflection.

    “Ah, well, Bullpole,” he said chuckling. “You've come a distance indeed from the days of Madrid gutters and a whoring sister's maternal care! Now there are more young innocents awaiting your attention. But first, the punishments to educate all others to the importance of carrying out orders to the letter!”

    He left the suite, following a descending stairway that led to a broad balcony extending out from the main building of that wing of the palace. On one side it overlooked a small arena. On the other, it overlooked an enclosure of steel bars in which a huge gorilla sat broodingly, his tiny eyes glaring up when he saw Bullpole join the two beautiful young women awaiting him. Behind the young women robed in silken gowns that displayed the perfection of their lushly curved bodies, stood more female attendants, also exceptionally beautiful and well shaped in flimsy tunics of a simpler cloth that showed off their female forms.

    Bullpole seated himself between the two beauties, turning to the brunette, whose serene features bore hardly a trace of emotion but in whose dark eyes a heated light flickered excitedly.

    “Expose yourself to the beast,” Bullpole ordered. “Excite him with your talented motions.”

    The brunette allowed her gown to fall to her ankles, revealing a body whose curves and fullnesses were sheer temptation. Raising her slender arms, she began dancing expertly, the low stone railing not barring the sight of her naked form from the beady eyes of the gorilla who, whimpering hoarsely, clutched the steel bars with his hairy fists.

    She pranced and whirled and twisted in a poetry of nude provocation, offering her firm heavy breasts toward the staring simian, jiggling the nippled mounds at him with lewd generosity – undulating her hips and thrusting her chubby, hair-covered triangle with its partially hidden slit at him in a searing motion of surrender that quickly made the creature howl deeply with bestial lust as he shook the steel bars in frustration.

    Apparently the gorilla had been conditioned to desire human females and this taunting display was working him up to a feverish pitch. He bellowed his lust angrily, never taking his tiny eyes from the naked girl as she went through a sensual dance that included every motion known to the female during sexual intercourse – and when she had finished, the beast was aflame with animal desire and raging to reach her.

    “Bring in the other creature,” called Bullpole to the guards waiting below. “Let the entertainment start now.”

    They dragged the now naked lesbian to the cage and hurled her into a far end of it, slamming the gate behind her and locking it securely. The gorilla, hearing the sound, turned and saw the naked woman cowering at the distant end of his prison. With a grumbled series of animal noises he dropped to a crouching run – going straight toward the helpless lesbian.

    She only had time to scream once before the powerfully-muscled beast had reached her, shoved her to the concrete flooring and was greedily stabbing his long penis at her crotch, forcing his hairy body between her flailing legs and succeeding in finding her hole – plunging his organ into it with a savage thrust that tore a long, piercing shriek of pain and fear from the hapless lesbian's throat.

    Furiously, the gorilla raped her in steady driving thrusts that ripped and shredded her cunt into bloody rawness as the great animal vented his lust upon her comparatively frail body, grunting heatedly with each pumping spasm he made.

    “Please,” murmured Bullpole, gesturing to the plump blonde on his other side. “Now, please.”

    Reaching over, she took his penis out from the robe he wore – and I instantly saw why he was very aptly called Bullpole. That penis was indeed worthy of the most virile bull on earth. A huge, thick club of a penis tipped with a monstrous plum-shaped head. A penis so large and so long it seemed almost too obscenely big even connected to a man as immense as Bullpole.

    Then I noticed the unusually broad mouth on the blonde. A peculiarly wide-lipped mouth that now dipped, opened and swallowed the plum-shaped tip of Bullpole's giant organ as the girl went down on it, sucking noisily.

    Her jaws worked laboriously as they engulfed the thick column of rigid muscle upon which her straining mouth rode up and down in tiny movements that gave Bullpole pleasure, judging from the blissful expression that came over his stern features. His eyes narrowed as he watched the lesbian being cruelly assaulted by the insatiable beast in the cage. And all the time he was observing the rape taking place, the blonde girl performed orally upon his distended organ until, with a series of barely audible grunts, his juices gushed into her throat, and he visibly relaxed – patting her head as she lifted her greasy lips from his swollen member, still swallowing the last traces of the fulsome discharge.

    “Very nice, my dear,” he murmured. “Most enjoyable!”

    Now the gorilla was mauling the lesbian, whose head lolled loosely, her neck having been broken during the violence of the attack. Bullpole made a brief gesture and the guards drove the beast to a corner of the cage while others removed the body of the ill-fated lesbian.

    Bullpole shifted position, turning his attention into the small arena.

    “Begin the punishment,” he ordered clearly.

    Guards who had been awaiting this command went into action immediately, bringing out a frightened, white faced Ignacio and tying him firmly to a large upright log, binding his arms to his sides and tearing his ragged clothing from his gleaming torso until he stood entirely nude in the blazing sunlight, squinting nervously in all directions.

    Then from a gate in the wall of the arena guards brought a line of unkempt, stumbling rabble that must have been imprisoned in some dark dungeon because they blinked painfully against the brilliant light of day, crowding clumsily into one another as they were prodded and pushed to where Ignacio stood bound to the stake. Seeing his nakedness, they began making strange little noises of excitement – their degenerate faces becoming animated with excitement, lust gleaming in their eyes as they stared at his lengthy penis hanging limply down over his full testicles nestled in the matted thicket of black pubic hair. Jabbering and nudging each other, the line of obvious perverts snickered and giggled with unrestrained glee, every pair of eyes glued to the young man's genitals..

    Shoved into a straggling line-up by the brutal guards, the filthy, ragged men shuffled their feet and whispered excitedly among themselves while the first in line was led to Ignacio, where he suddenly knelt, grasping Ignacio's organ in trembling hands and avidly plunged his slobbering mouth over the tip – voraciously nursing upon it.

    Ignacio's expression of surprise and embarrassment quickly was replaced by one of sheer horror as – looking at the long line of perverts awaiting their turn at him – the realization that his punishment consisted of having his member abused by every man in that line reached his mind, and he sagged with the resulting emotions of dismay and humiliation.

    Meanwhile, the one kneeling before him, greedily sucking upon the now erected penis, increased his mouthings until the convulsive motions of his throat told that Ignacio had climaxed and the pervert was drinking down the spasms of juice gushing into his mouth and throat.

    Then the pervert was yanked to his feet, marched out of the arena – and the next drooling pervert in the line was brought to Ignacio where he, too, knelt and hungrily took the still hard penis into his mouth, gnawing and tugging at it with relish.

    Ignacio groaned, closing his eyes and enduring the sensations which he knew would become total agony before the line had enjoyed their turns at the organ which already felt bruised and painful.

    Bullpole smiled grimly, glancing down to the chief guard below. “When he becomes unconscious,” he said quietly, “end the punishment.”

    The chief guard nodded his understanding.

    Rising, Bullpole strode cumbersomely from the balcony, returning to his private suite where he was met by a delegation of employees who briefly reported to him on the various states of his many business enterprises while he listened in silence, frowning now and then or nodding approval, and when they had departed – he wearily sprawled upon an immense bed to fall into a deep sleep.

    Taking advantage of his unconsciousness to partake of a much needed meal, I found his blood to be particularly rich and nourishing with a distinctively winey flavor. Then I, too, relapsed into that lightly comatose state which serves as sleep for my kind, my hunger abated.

    Even a Flea must rest occasionally.

    Hours later, Bullpole arose and after refreshing himself to awakeness with a tepid bath – during which nubile female attendants lathered him with perfumed soaps, rinsing his bulk off again amid much chattering and giggling while he sat smiling calmly – went into the huge room and lowered himself upon the pile of cushions.

    An ebony maiden brought him a platter upon which a feast of meats and breads and fruits had been piled in abundance, and soon he was joined by a lean, wiry man his own age who seemed to be associated with Bullpole, and I received the distinct impression that their association was definitely more social than business since Bullpole's attitude toward the slighter, devilish-looking fellow was amiable and the way one treats an equal.

    “You have a magnificent place here,” commented the guest, glancing slyly at his host as he plied himself with food. “A truly superlative way of life indeed, old friend.”

    “Ah,” chuckled Bullpole munching a leg of mutton with relish, the grease dripping from his chin as his strong teeth tore the tender meat. “I must be careful now! When Zorba Aphranes is liberal with compliments, it means that the shrewd Greek is after something! What caught your eye, friend?”

    “Well, now that you've graciously mentioned it, I have gotten rather fond of that delightful little Egyptian wench you thoughtfully provided.” Zorba gulped down a large goblet of pale wine, smacking his lips afterward. “She's the most skillfully sensual creature I've ever possessed. I warn you, friend, that I may pilfer her when I leave!”

    “No need. She's yours.”

    “Thank you, Bullpole. That's most generous of you. Perhaps I can return the favor with an equally desirable creature when you visit my retreat in Athens, which I trust will be soon.”

    “Of course.” Bullpole snapped his fingers and an attendant swiftly brought a bowl of warm water in which he rinsed his mouth and fingers, drying them fastidiously with a snowy towel. “I look forward to visiting you in Athens – to see how you conduct your affairs of trade and how you manage you little palace of pleasures. Meanwhile, I must attend to my own enterprises. Which is mainly why I've been such a poor host and have unintentionally ignored you these past three weeks.””

    “Understandable,” murmured the Greek.

    “Well, I hope the sundry modest pleasures that have been provided for you are keeping you relaxed and entertained.”

    “They are, indeed.”

    “Would it amuse you to observe how I'm solving a rather personal problem?” Bullpole glanced at the other man, smiling thinly. “I have no wish to bore or embarrass you, but you might find my methods a trifle interesting.”

    The Greek nodded, his mouth full of food.

    “I've had a particularly vexing problem since my early youth,” Bullpole explained, calmly taking his mammoth penis out of his robe. It stood erect, throbbing slightly. “As you can see, I'm not being boastful when I say that my organ is of an unusual length and circumference.”

    “True. A remarkable member indeed!”

    Bullpole sighed. “Yes, but its very size is my problem. Years ago, I discovered that the average woman cannot comfortably accommodate an organ as large as mine, and indeed is often physically damaged by its insertion into her vagina – not to mention the psychological effects of having such a bulky truncheon introduced into her sensitive parts. This left me with a hellish choice – or so I thought. Suffer a life of insidious, unthinkable celibacy or suffer females to risk the agony of my outsized prick. Since I'm neither saint nor fiend, the choice almost drove me mad.”

    “No wonder! Such a choice would drive most men out of their minds. Having that large a member is a problem entirely unknown to me, old friend.” The Greek clucked sympathetically. “I never realized you bore such a grievous problem!”

    “But I solved it! Some years ago I learned, from a wise man, that any woman whose mouth is large enough to encompass my organ also possesses a cunt sufficiently yielding to accept this absurdly huge penis without creating damaging stress or strain to flesh or mind!”

    “How scientific!” The Greek appeared to be awed. “Yet it surely makes common sense when one thinks about the size-relationship to both cavities!”

    Bullpole nodded. “Armed with that knowledge I've since been able to easily and reliably find those appealing creatures whose capacities are sufficient to meet my undeniably demanding need. Today I shall continue testing a number of untouched young women, garnered from several countries for the purpose of supplying my lust with release, as to their ability for sexually servicing a man with an organ the size of this muscular mace!”

    The Greek peered at the gigantic cock with envy spread across his face. “A truly monumental member, my friend! The fascinating facts of your dilemma should be recorded for human history!”

    Very gently, Bullpole stroked his penis and it expanded excitedly, becoming even larger and harder. The head changed color from a dull purple-ish blue to a pulsing reddish-blue.

    “Well, now that I've shared the facts with you,” said Bullpole, “you'll understand how important it is that I find at least a few girls, among the number who will shortly pass through this room to be tested, whose mouths – and therefore, their pussies – can engulf this monstrous member. I tire quickly of each new group of candidates. This means finding still newer ones to replace them.”

    “Uh… what becomes of your pets after you tire of their charms?”

    “Oh, they are transferred to the chain of bordellos I maintain, as one of my more lucrative business ventures, in almost every major city across Spain. Given suitable employment as working whores, they continue to be most useful and the profits they earn help subsidize this retreat.”

    “And the ones who fail the size-test?”

    “They, too, become prostitutes. I really never have believed in foolish waste. Not after the considerable outlay it costs to gather them up and ship them here from all parts of the far-flung world!”

    “Commendable thrift!”

    “I try to be practical in these matters.”

    Clapping his hands, Bullpole sat up a bit straighter, his penis fully exposed and rigid as it jutted upward from his lap, awaiting the first girl to be led to him. She was a lovely wench whose natural red hair and smooth white flesh only added to the beauty of her nakedness. She stood cringing before the two men, aware that their eyes assessed and touched every curve, each indentation of her gorgeous nude flesh.

    “Rather nice, eh?” murmured Bullpole.

    “Ravishing!” agreed the Greek.

    “Put your dainty lips around my prick, sweet girl,” ordered Bullpole not unkindly. “You may have the good fortune to join my household.”

    The girl stared at the huge penis.

    “It's – It's too big, sire! I'm sure I could never put my mouth over anything that large!” Her full lips quivered fearfully. “Besides, it's a nasty thing you ask me to do!”

    “Try, anyway.” His voice was firm.

    Kneeling and crying softly as she bent to the task, the girl attempted to put her mouth over the immense tip of the stiffened penis – failing with each try she made. Finally, she buried her face into her hands, sobbing bitterly.

    Bullpole sighed, turning to his friend. “Would you care to have her before she's sent to Madrid?”

    “Oh, I don't know.”

    “She's a virgin – like the others who must pass or fail this test. She might be rather enjoyable.”

    The Greek's eyes caressed the full breasts, the lush growth of fiery pubic hair over a chubby mound with well-pursed lips. His nostrils dilated with lust and his eyes mirrored it.

    “Well… all right, but just as a favor to you!”

    Bullpole roared with appreciative laughter, ordering the weeping girl to be taken to the Greek's quarters, and clapped his hands again.

    “Next!” he demanded.


    Then followed a succession of nude applicants, none of them really comprehending the importance of the test to which each was put in turn, not realizing that to succeed was to be kept in the luxurious palace – for awhile, anyway – as one of Bullpole's favorites; and to fail was to be sent to a distant city on the mainland, there to spend the remainder of their wretched lives in sexual servitude for their captor's gain.

    The virgins represented every known type of female, emotionally and physically. They varied in size, shape and coloring but they had two things in common with one another: they were all virgins still, and they all faced approximately the same fate – give or take whatever time was required for Bullpole to tire of those whose generous mouths enabled them to pass the test.

    I watched as a lithe brunette knelt before the towering penis, grasping it in her slim hands and reluctantly putting her mouth over its throbbing tip with no difficulty.

    “Fine!” boomed Bullpole. “Take her to my private suite and see that she's made entirely comfortable!” He reached down, lifting the girl's head and smiling into her terrified face. “I'll join you later, and we'll become better acquainted, my lovely one!”

    The girl was led away by attendants.

    “Next!” Bullpole rumbled.

    The tall, haughty-faced blonde with the ballooning breasts and long legs went to her knees in dignity, dipping her head to the erected organ and trying desperately to open her mouth around its plum-shaped tip. Failing, she cursed softly – staring up at Bullpole with accusing blue eyes.

    “Y-You monster!” she snapped.

    “Save your fire for the clients in Cordoba who will pay handsomely to quench it!” Bullpole gestured abruptly to the guards who dragged the cold-faced blonde out of the room.

    The next blonde was petite and roly-poly, her thick golden hair falling almost to her buttocks. She knelt, smoothly taking almost a third of the huge penis' length before raising her head.

    “Splendid! You did that most expertly!” Bullpole studied her closely. “But how did an innocent like you learn to do that so deftly, my dear?”

    She dimpled a coy smile. “Well, sire, when I refused to tumble with my lustful stepfather in the barn, he taught me to do that, instead. And I found that I enjoyed it – especially when such sensual attention is mutually being bestowed!” She glanced provocatively at him.

    Bullpole breathed faster, lust glittering in his yellowish eyes. “I see. Rest assured that we shall indeed mutually enjoy the act you describe!”

    She was led away, looking pleased with herself.

    And so it went, girl after girl, each failing or succeeding, each displaying her naked charms in uncomfortable modesty or numb indifference. The Greek sat silently observing the seemingly endless parade of beautiful, nude girls, an expression of intense interest upon his cruelly handsome features.

    When Bullpole interrupted the testing to drink some wine, the Greek touched his brawny shoulder with a tentative finger. “May I make a rather brash suggestion, old friend?” he said quietly. “It may appeal to you!”

    Bullpole nodded, swallowing wine.

    “Why not assign some of those who fail the test temporarily to me?”

    “Take as many as you like – of those who fail,” agreed Bullpole. “You know you're welcome to them.”

    “Thank you, my friend. But what I had in mind was not merely my own pleasure. I rather thought we might enjoy a little competition of sorts – being men who find the challenge of a contest an invigorating experience!”

    “A contest?”

    The Greek nodded. “To see which of us can fully possess the most girls in a single, unending session of carnal triumph! Does the prospect of such a competitive endurance contest strike your fancy?”

    Bullpole grinned. “Naturally, it does!”

    “Well, then?”

    “We'll hold it – tonight!”

    The Greek sat back, looking satisfied.

    “Next!” Bullpole watched the sullen-faced girl with uptilted breasts tipped with knobby nipples and a mound so lightly dusted with blonde hair as to look hairless, the slit clearly in view, saunter toward him confidently. She knelt quickly, taking the nodding male organ into her strong hands and plunging her gaping mouth down over its tip with her eyes tightly closed.

    “Good!” grunted Bullpole.

    The girl continued to bob her head vigorously up and down, sucking at the fleshy column with grim steadiness, her clenched jaws indicating that she was applying some pressure to the penis as she sucked roughly, almost vengefully.

    “Enough!” rumbled Bullpole, looking uneasy. “That is enough of that! You've passed the test!”

    The girl sucked harder, faster.

    “Enough!” bellowed Bullpole irritably.

    Now she increased the speed of her bobbing head, her paws tightening painfully about the pulsating organ between her teeth which must have begun scraping at the tender flesh of the penis. There was a stubborn, threatening quality to the manner in which she was mouthing the member.

    Without warning, Bullpole's open hand swung in a swift arc, savagely striking the girl's moving head – the force of the blow knocking her mouth free of the organ and sending her tumbling sideways where she lay limply upon the floor.

    Guards leaped forward to grasp her, and her head lolled lifelessly from side to side when they roughly raised her to a slumped position. She sagged in their hands – dead weight.

    “When she regains consciousness, put her in the dungeon until further orders,” snarled Bullpole, gingerly touching the reddened skin of his badly mouthed penis. “She'll have to be taught a lesson about that kind of behavior!”


    Bullpole frowned up at the guard.

    “Her neck is broken, sire. She's dead.”

    Bullpole sighed. “A pity. I dislike waste of good material. Well, take her away. Don't just stand there gaping at me, you lout!”

    “You're fortunate that she didn't attempt to injure you seriously,” murmured the Greek. “She might've tried biting your member entirely off the moment she got those jaws about it.”

    Bullpole nodded, his face tight. Apparently, he was considering what that would have been like – having his sensitive penis bitten through until it dangled by a shred of flesh or two.

    “No more testing for now,” he boomed, waving the guards, girls and attendants away. “I'll resume it later. Bring more wine.”

    He and the Greek sat for a long time, idly discussing various matters of business, and their planned sexual contest. Bored by their conversation, I proceeded to wander through the castle in a series of carefully estimated hops – occasionally riding aboard various servants as they hurriedly went down hallways – until I found myself in a corridor near a heavily-guarded doorway.

    Entering the suite beneath the doors was easy enough for one my size and I found myself in the spacious quarters where those girls who had passed Bullpole's unique test were being kept, presumably until he had need of them. The apartment was filled with beautiful young female humans – lounging, pacing restlessly and sitting quietly, staring into space – some of whom were holding conversations which I sampled, unobtrusively moving from group to group in my chronic curiosity.

    “I've heard,” remarked a shy-faced brunette, “that he likes to take two or three girls to bed with him at the same time, and that his knowledge of erotic play stuns the mind.”

    “Well, I just hope he doesn't expect me to put my mouth over that terribly big thing of his again!” A prissy-eyed redhead shuddered involuntarily at the memory. “Gor, what a taste it had!”

    “Perhaps he's a very fine lover,” suggested a slim blonde with a hopeful smile. “He has a kind face – and he really wasn't unpleasant about the way he conducted that strange test! I prefer to believe the best of the gentleman.”

    “After the bastard kidnapped you?” The redhead glared angrily at the blonde. “Have you lost all your senses? Fine gentleman, my arse! He's just a powerful beast who intends that we provide him with pleasure until his repulsive lusts are fully satisfied, that's what he is!”

    I proceeded to another group, enchanted by their opinions of their captor. For girls who had been forcibly abducted they seemed, by and large, oddly lacking in resentment. Those who were resentful seemed to be in a definite minority indeed. I could only wonder if, having known poverty all their lives, many of them were now willing to accept their new lives because of the luxurious surroundings and the accompanying sense of excitement and adventure that being brought here had been introduced into their existences. Such a theory might well be unsubstantial but no other was clearly indicated.

    “I wonder how much that huge organ of his will hurt,” mused a nervous-looking blonde, biting her fingernails to the quick. “I've heard it really pains a girl when she loses her purity – and I fear that the size of the man's manhood has a lot to do with how much it hurts!”

    “Pooh!” scoffed an impish brownette, tossing her head imperiously. “Old wives' tales! My oldest sister lost her innocence in a haystack and she assured me that it hurt not one whit! That's just nonsense supposed to keep a girl from finding out how much fun lying with a man can be, I think!”

    “You really think so?” A soft-spoken brunette with huge eyes looked heartened by the other girl's comment. “I'd – I'd like to believe it's not going to be a horrible experience at all. I don't know that I could endure it if it was torturous or very frightening. I've always heard -”

    And so the chatter went, with girl after girl giving vent to her deepest fears or impudent glee according to her nature and what she believed in regard to the act of sexual intercourse which none of them had yet actually experienced. And I was wont to believe that the experience would indeed vary with each girl's basic attitude toward it, although I hadn't the slightest notion what Bullpole might bring to the performance in the way of skill or gentleness, patience or brutality.

    Staying only long enough to snack upon one of the stouter built girls – whose blood was sweet beyond belief for such a sour-faced individual – and deftly avoiding the half-hearted scratching she accorded her cleanly shaven armpit following my impromptu refreshment, I departed from the suite and returned to my host who was just rising from his wine and conversation, bidding the Greek a genial adios for the moment.

    “It's agreed, then,” belched Bullpole loudly. “We each sleep a full ten hours and following a light meal, commence the contest to see which of us can indeed fuck the most girls – the loser being whomever can no longer complete the act by unloading his manly juice into still another virginal cunt!”

    “Splendid!” The Greek's sly eyes glittered. “But – and I ask you to forgive me for suggesting it – shouldn't there be stakes of some kind or other? If for no other purpose than to lend the contest added zest?”

    “Aren't our egos stake aplenty?” Bullpole locked mildly surprised.

    “True. But – and again I ask you to excuse my native fondness for gambling – wouldn't the entire competition be lent a most exhilarating mood of excitement, over and above our mere personal ideas of our own virilities, if something truly valuable in an… ah… materialistic sense were involved, old friend? Or do I press the point ungraciously?”

    “I'm not afraid to wager,” burped Bullpole a trifle brashly, being somewhat tipsy. “I'm as much if not more of a reckless gambler than you, you goaty old Greek!”

    Something dangerously akin to hatred glinted in the Greek's eyes for a fraction of a second but was lost in the oily smirk of chagrin that overpowered his devilish features. “I know you are, and I'm probably courting disaster – but I shall make so bold as to inquire whether you are gambler enough for worthwhile stakes.”

    “Such as?” Bullpole was obviously nettled.

    The Greek shrugged indifferently. “Oh, such as, say, my entire establishment near Athens against, say, this entire site.”

    Bullpole grinned drunkenly. You mean my palace wagered against your palatial, highly famed fortress known to be easily twice the size and value of this comparatively modest headquarters?” Incredulity broadened the grin.

    The Greek nodded, looking as though he might be suffering regret at having spelled out such stakes, but biting his lip in the knowledge that he was committed, having uttered them.

    “Done!” shouted Bullpole, laughing thunderously. “Until later, old friend, when I shall literally screw you out of the most impressive castle any man ever possessed – I bid you good rest!”

    The same mysterious instinct that has so often stood my existence in such beneficial stead began clamoring strongly and I questioned not the deep intuitive throbbing – transferring myself from Bullpole to the Greek in a twinkling. And when the somber-faced Greek left the room, I was securely hidden within the thick forest of dark hairs that grew entangled upon his muscular chest.

    He began smiling faintly once he was alone.

    Following a long period of sleep that I could but assume was the allotted ten hours, the Greek was awakened by one of his personal servants, a tender young girl of merely thirteen or fourteen years who had come from Greece as part of his entourage, and he then bathed – during which I temporarily abandoned his person while he indulged himself in that most obnoxious activity – in a vulgarly thorough fashion, after which he summoned another of his own servants, an elderly man whose serene features, snowy beard, bald pate and general bearing bespoke a learned and magical sage.

    “You will concoct a potion,” the Greek instructed the old wizard, “that shall enable me to fuck almost unendingly – or at very least for several hours. And your concoction must be totally reliable or you and all your relatives will face a most slow and nightmarish death, should your chemistry fail to provide me with the sexual endurance I will be expecting from it.”

    “The future of my family and myself is assured, my lord,” the ancient seer murmured evenly, a placid smile wreathing his weathered face. “I know exactly the potion you desire. I guarantee that it will safely see you through several hundred orgasms, if necessary.”

    “Successive orgasms within a few hours?”

    The bone-thin old sage nodded.

    “Poison me, and you know the consequences?” The Greek smiled evilly at his magician.

    “I know, my lord. I was present when you had the foresight to give the orders in advance as insurance against my ever betraying you with a deadly potion. I have no wish to see my lovely great-grandchildren fed alive to cannibalistic men.”

    “Then, prepare the potion.”

    “One thing, my lord.”


    “You must imbibe a full pint of the potion and you must drink it ah hour before beginning any carnal indulgences.”

    “Agreed. I have that much time if you don't tarry with the preparation.”

    “May I further suggest a certain ointment that applied to your manhood externally will increase your control without inhibiting your natural ability to climax, whenever you so desire the pleasure of giving full orgasm?”

    “You have just earned your family their freedom to live in wealth – if your ointment gives that result.” The Greek beamed at the venerable sorcerer.

    “It will produce that result, my lord.”

    “Then proceed without delay!”

    After the old one had shuffled from the room, the Greek ate sparingly. As he munched a light salad and a few fistfuls of roasted lamb, he chuckled delightedly and maundered aloud to himself.

    “By Olympus!” he chortled happily, “I've as good as deprived that fatassed ox of his wallow! What hasn't dawned in his soddened brain as yet is the cold fact that once I've won these headquarters, I automatically own all his holdings across that dry and inhospitable mainland – taking possession of every whorehouse in every Spanish city that the hoggish cretin controls! Oh, what a marvelous bit of sheer brilliant and profitable malice – and I think the best part is, the swinish brute has forgotten how he cheated me in past years, delaying my present fortunes considerably!” He thumped the table in merriment, his satanic features contorted with mirth. “Oh, this will be a sweet and tasty revenge indeed! And one that was well worth planning and waiting for, lo, these long years!”

    Strangely enough, his innate malice lent the Greek additional charm, and I couldn't help admiring him for it – possibly because I had found nothing especially sympathetic or deviously admirable in the stolid and overbearing Bullpole to date. I gave my protective intuition a silent vote of gratitude, knowing that I had been led to the winner of the forthcoming contest, surely in advance of the final outcome. To celebrate, I treated myself to a sample of blood from each and every one of his immediate household – discovering, to my relish, that they all offered the same pleasing flavor of mingled cheese and olives that their lord and master's blood carried so deliriously.

    Sated and feeling a mild degree of ennui, I wandered through the Greek's suites in search of something worth observing to while away the time until the contest between him and Bullpole might begin; and I hadn't traveled more than a trice of rooms before I encountered such a sight.

    One of the Greek's bodyguards – a hideously muscular fellow with a bestial look to his bearded face – sat beside a downy-cheek youth who seemed uncertain as he allowed the bodyguard to stroke his firm young penis with a familiar hand that shook lustfully as it fondled the lad's organ.

    “That's a handsome stave you have!” muttered the bodyguard thickly. “I'll wager you've yet to know the feel of a mouth upon its tender plum, eh?”

    “S-Sir?” quavered the boy.

    “Well, you're in luck, young man! I happen to prefer your kind to those noisy, chittering females that can give a man the pox!” Lowering his gaping mouth, the bodyguard plunged it over the trembling tip of the youth's member – closing his hairy lips around its hardness with mumbling gusto and sucking up and down in a fury of greedy enjoyment.

    The boy's eyes widened – first in utter surprise, then in amazed pleasure – as the older male nursed with savage delight upon the stiff length of organ, twisting his head this way and that, tugging at it in playful glee, thrusting his hirsute face down and swallowing almost the entire column of white tense flesh while the boy's face grew dreamy in blissful enjoyment of the sensations being created upon his prick. When he came a few seconds later, the youth cried out his excited ecstasy, writhing in its toils as his juices went gushing and spurting forth within the demanding mouth that held his penis prisoner, spasm after spasm making his slender body twitch and squirm.

    The bodyguard lifted his dripping maw, grinning.

    “How was that?” he chuckled lewdly.

    “Oh, th-that felt so strangely wonderful!” The lad stared longingly at the hairy-ringed mouth which had delivered the greatest pleasure he'd ever known. “It's- it's much better than pulling at it with my own hand until it floods forth! W-Will you do it again to me, sir?”

    “I shall – if you'll give me the pleasure of my own lust in the manner I prefer!” The bodyguard eyed the boy's awakened desire shrewdly, knowing that his deliberate campaign to reach this moment had worked most effectively. “Will you do that?”

    The lad nodded enthusiastically, thinking only of experiencing the repeated joy of having that hairy face nuzzling his lap, feeling the warmth and wetness of that hungry mouth upon his stiffly sensitive organ.

    “Then turn over, get on your hands and knees!” ordered the bodyguard, producing a small jar of jellylike substance. “That's it! Now spread those pretty, smooth legs a bit! God, what a handsome young asshole you have, my friend! Hold still now while I apply this aid!”

    “It feels so peculiar!” giggled the boy.

    “You haven't really felt anything peculiar yet!” panted the lecherous bodyguard, getting himself up close to the youthful buttocks, spreading the cheeks with his hands and suddenly pressing his own exposed penis – a respectable truncheon that stood upright excitedly – against the jelly-smeared rectal entrance.

    “Ow!” gasped the boy, wincing. “Th-that hurts, sir! Ow! I don't like – ow! – this kind of – ow! – fun at all, sir! Oh, by the gods! OW! You're killing me, sir!”

    “It only hurts a bit the first time!” panted the bodyguard, thrusting his rigid member into the hole, jabbing it in and out in short stabs that made his face grow heavy with lustful enjoyment. “Besides, the cunt never was carried betwixt female thighs that can match a male asshole or even a male mouth for snug delight and satisfying fucking! Hold still, you young fool! I'm nearing my own pleasure now!” The bodyguard rocked steadily back and forth, his penis slipping in and out of the boy's rectum with increasing vigor and speed.

    “B-But it hurts too much!” wailed the youth, grimacing and bracing himself against the shocks of the man's pumping, thrusting loins. “Th-the pain is terrible, sir!”

    “Act like the brave soldier you'll one day be!”

    The, lad gritted his white teeth, enduring the act which now had become a frenzied violence as the bodyguard- quivering into full orgasm and his body straining with the urgent enjoyment, his face a contorted mask of lust- slammed his ramrod into the yielding rectum with a last grunt of animal satisfaction, hoarsely groaning and bent almost double when the spasms of climax poured his juice spurtingly from the end of his inserted member into the aperture it impaled.

    Weakly, the bodyguard withdrew the smoking penis and slumped onto his side, laboring for breath. The boy moved backwards until his once again erected penis dangled stiffly down near the prone bodyguard's slack mouth, brushing the bearded lips.

    “Suck me!” the boy whispered feverishly, prodding at the man's half-opened mouth with the throbbing tip of his excited organ. “Suck me again!”

    “In a moment, lad!” wheezed the bodyguard.

    “Now!” the boy pleaded.

    The bodyguard opened his mouth and the youth thrust his pulsing stiffness into the thick lips, moaning with pleasure as that heavy mouth closed tightly about his organ – undulating his hips as he began copulating slowly and steadily in and out of the brutish mouth engulfing his hard young cock, the blissful expression reappearing upon his smooth face as the sensual enjoyment resumed.

    I left, hearing his soft murmuring fade behind me.

    Returning to the Greek, I found him seated with his thighs spread apart while the aged seer carefully painted a thin liquid over every inch of the truly startling penis jutting up stiffly from a matted tangle of black hair in the Greek's crotch. It was a fantastically long and thick organ for such a small and wiry man. Clublike, it waved in rigid splendor as the ancient sage finished brushing the ointment upon it. I could hardly believe the sight but compared to this staff of muscle, Bullpole's mace-like member was inferior indeed.

    The Greek's penis was adorned with a number of large and bumpy warts down its white column. Its plum-shaped head looked broader and thicker than any such tips I've ever seen on male organs during all my journeys or in any of the many instances where I beheld the human penis exposed or in action. It was a veritable giant mushroom of a prick, and it almost dwarfed its possessor since he seemed even shorter and thinner with that magnificent length of genital construction protruding from his hairy lap.

    “There, my lord,” murmured the elderly sorcerer, stepping back. “The ointment is applied. You have drunk the potion. You will be perfectly ready for any contest of sexual endurance within a few minutes.”

    “By the stenchless turds of Zeus!” exclaimed the exuberant Greek, staring proudly at his own cock and thumping it lightly, causing it to waggle back and forth stiffly, “now I'll not only hammer that stupid pig's empire away from him but I'll outfuck his best effort until he's been wretchedly humiliated and made the laughing stock of this very palace of bawdy enterprise!”

    That cocky Greek was all winner if I ever saw one.


    Bullpole awaited the greek as that grinning contestant was escorted into the room containing a brace of broad couches by a docile-faced little attendant who led the scheming man to one of the wide beds and helped him lay himself upon it, after gently assisting him to divest his body of the single garment he wore.

    “Are you ready, old friend?” asked Bullpole in a languid voice. “Servants will bring each of us a girl as we indicate by gesture.”

    “Ready indeed,” replied the smirking Greek.

    “We can interrupt our fucking at any time for rest, refreshments or simply brief conversation. A highly reliable servant over there -” Bullpole pointed to an expressionless man holding a pen and tablet, “will keep score. He's been instructed to keep it accurately and impartially upon pain of death. You needn't suspect any chicanery where the tally is concerned.”

    “Why, I trust your methods implicitly, friend of my youth!” crooned the Greek. “Surely, you aren't implying that I would insult you by entertaining the faintest doubt regarding -”

    “No,” interrupted Bullpole. “I merely wish to assure you that every precaution to insure total fairness and efficiency has been taken.”

    The Greek nodded his approval.

    “Then the contest begins the moment the first virgin is upon her back with her lovely legs opened on either side of us each.” Bullpole resettled himself, holding his mammoth penis ready in one hand, fingering its blunt tip and making it hard with this preliminary excitement. “Good luck to you!”

    “And to you, old friend!”

    Attendants led two naked girls – both of them blonde and beautifully shaped – to the couches where they were positioned upon their backs, each girl averting her eyes as her sexual partner climbed between her thighs and lowered himself upon her quivering belly.

    “One thing more,” said Bullpole. “Each girl is prepared, her artificial lubrication being a time-saving device rather than await her natural juices to come forth which would require fondling and other time-consuming manipulations which would only serve to slow down the contest.”

    “Brilliant!” complimented the Greek. “You seem to have thought of everything – or almost everything!”

    “Everything, I assure you!” Bullpole smiled inscrutably across the space separating the couches. “Including a physician who will examine each girl for proof of male juices within her cunt as we continue to the next girl!”

    “How scientific!”

    Bullpole addressed himself to the frightened wench beneath him, grasping her buttocks and stabbing his huge organ at her velvety-lipped, glistening cunt until, on the fourth thrust, his immense penis sank into her while she bit her lip in pain and moaned hollowly.

    At the same time the Greek was plunging his penis rigidly into the yielding moistness of the girl lying numbly under him, hearing her gasp of shock as his gigantic organ penetrated her – the size of it threatening to split her in halves.

    Both men fucked in silence, the only sound in the room being that of the girls suffering their virginities to be brutally violated, moaning and groaning softly as the Greek and Bullpole pumped ruthlessly in steady rhythms of undulating hips that sent their members lunging in and out of the now opened vaginas with unrelenting motions that soon had each girl sobbing in labored excitement as her involuntary reaction to the stimulus of the large penis within her cunt quickly brought on her first experience of orgasm.

    Bullpole suddenly came, savagely thrusting his macelike organ harder and deeper into the girl clutching at him, and grunting hoarsely as his juice shot into her body. Even before his last spasm had exhausted itself, he was gesturing for another girl.

    Rolling off the deflowered blonde who still clung to him with eyes tightly closed, panting with the sensations yet roiling throughout her nervous system, he waited while attendants took her from the couch and substituted a pale-faced brunette whose nude brown body was a symphony of curved and satiny flesh. Spreading her legs, she gazed up in terror at the bulk of malehood descending toward her exposed cunt nestled within the dark thatch of silky hair in the pit of her crotch – wincing and crying out as Bullpole's still-stiff penis impaled her and plunged deeply beyond the rudely parted lips of her organ. He was moving steadily in and out while she had hardly realized that her innocence was gone forever, the shock of his sudden entry having dimmed the discomfort of her torn hymen.

    Shortly thereafter, the Greek discharged his hot juices into the blonde clawing at his shoulder-blades in a frenzy of ecstasy, waited until his brief gesture had her removed by the attendants who brought a trembling redhead to his couch and once again threw himself between her quivering plump thighs, his warty cock ramming into the soft warmth of her wet cunt and went ripping through her virginal tissue while she shrieked in pain – the shrillness of her outcry adding to his mounting excitement and urging him on to greater motion as he screwed away in zestful glee.

    Staying apace of one another by a few seconds, each man taking the brief lead alternately, they used five wenches apiece before the Greek – panting audibly – called out, “I sh-should like to quench my th-thirst, old friend!”

    Bullpole gave the girl under him one last thrust which caused his organ to erupt again – the juice gushing into her cunt copiously. He nodded, and rolled to his side, gasping for air in great shuddering breaths.

    Both men rested in quietude for a few minutes, sipping the cool wine from beakers replenished by alert-eyed little attendants who regarded them with wistful awe, undoubtedly wishing that they – having already sampled their master's virility in past heated nights of lustful delight – were now lying with thighs opened to the sensual pleasure of having the prodigious penis of each man present in their twitching coozes.

    “By the aching breasts of fair Athena!” swore the Greek solemnly. “This manner of contesting takes its toll of a man's endurance, aside from shrinking his balls to marbles!”

    “True.” Bullpole quaffed the spiced wine in thirsty gulps, the liquid spilling from his mouth and streaming down his hoggish jowls in dribbling wetness. “Are you telling me that you wish to concede this game?”

    “Not at all, old friend. Simply commenting upon the interesting fact that unremitting intercourse is also demanding upon the back-muscles, the leg-muscles and the lungs.”

    “I see.” Bullpole gazed musingly at the Greek.

    “I'm ready anytime you are for furtherance of our enjoyable competition!”

    His answer was another gesture that instantly brought a fresh pair of virgins – a cowering blonde and a bold-eyed brunette this time – to their respective couches. Now they threw themselves into their work – unheedingly fucking these newest victims despite the resultant screams of pain and fear as the huge male organs went plunging feverishly into the wenches' untouched holes.

    Finding myself no longer titillated by the almost mechanical mood of the orgiastic contest, since neither man was bothering to stop for loveplay or any degree of lascivious enjoyment, I left the room to seek other, perhaps more enthralling observations to be found elsewhere – realizing that the contest would continue unabated for quite some time yet.

    Deciding that it was time indeed for me to get a bit of sunlight and the invigorating air of the island, I left the building's interior and was placidly hopping along a stone railing edging a lengthy veranda when I heard a familiar voice – spying Ignacio seated in the shade of the courtyard beside a lovely dark-haired girl whom I also recognized as belonging to the treacherous Greek's imported retinue. She held a lowly position of servantry to one of the more passionate and attractive women who acted as personal mistresses to the lustful Greek; but the girl's demeanor was far from servile when she was apart from the others in the Grecian group.

    Dropping lightly to the crown of her sweetly scented head, I went from her scalp to her equally pleasant smelling armpit where, amid the soft hairs there, I found the flesh temptingly warm enough to warrant a cautious sampling of her young and delicious blood. So engrossed was she in their conversation she felt not the bite which delivered to me a meal most satisfying. In fact, I fear that I gorged myself as I eavesdropped.

    “That bastard, Bullpole, had ordered me castrated following the assault upon my manhood by a horde of slavering perverts,” said Ignacio, shuddering at the memory of his recent punishment. “Fortunately, for me, the chief guard proved to be a merciful churl whose memory of his young sister's ravishment at the hands of Bullpole caused him to order my immunity from castration, taking the responsibility upon himself that his countermanding of Bullpole's cruel instruction would never be discovered.”

    “Fortunate for you indeed,” murmured the girl, stroking Ignacio's beardless cheek lovingly and regarding him with the adoring eyes of every girl who has ever fallen in love with a young man. “And fortunate, too, for me, dear Ignacio!”

    “Even so, you should see the scars my manhood will bear to the end of my days. Terrible teethmarks those degenerates slashed into my flesh in their lustful savagery!”

    “Oh, let me see them!” she begged excitedly.

    “What?” He looked startled.

    She pulled at his arm, a sly expression across her face. “Come behind this large bush where we can have privacy – and show me your poor scarred organ! I crave to see it, dear Ignacio!”

    “You jest! You make sport of me!”

    “Not at all! I've never seen a man's – a man's member! Never in my life!” She lowered her eyes in brief shyness. “I'll tell you my deepest secret to show you that I jest not! I'm – I'm still a virgin! Lord Zorba took a strange liking to me after I'd been carried off from my village and delivered to him – and he gave orders that I was to be hand-maiden to his favorite concubine but left untouched! There are those who claim he is merely saving my innocence until a later date, but he shan't ever have it at all!”

    “Pah! He'll take it anytime he desires! Powerful men like him and that bastard, Bullpole, can do as they please, whenever they please! Haven't you learned that much yet, you little fool?” Ignacio regarded her with amazement. “He'll have your purity whenever he so pleases!”

    “Not if I give it to another, first!”

    “True, but -”

    She tugged stubbornly at his arm. “Come behind this shrubbery! Must I drag you there in order to give you my most precious possession, dear one?”

    “Precious possession?”

    “Yes – myself, you dolt! You're so embittered by your punishment that you're ignoring my offer – I wish to give myself to you in love!”

    Understanding and desire dawned in his eyes as he studied her uplifted face, glancing down her slender but well curved body. “Well, such a gift is to be cherished! I'm afraid you're right about my obsessive bitterness. Forgive me – uh -” He waited, indicating he needed to know her name.

    “Iona,” she said softly.

    “Iona,” he repeated. “Ignacio and Iona! They fit together very musically!”

    “I know.” She rose, leading him behind the spreading shrubbery and settling herself upon the sandy loam, looking up submissively as he lowered himself beside her. Opening the top of her dress she bared her breasts, revealing two plump melons tipped with taut strawberry colored nipples. “Be gentle but take me completely.”

    He began making tender love to her, kissing her mouth passionately as his hands played with the full breasts and she writhed responsively to the touch of his hands, moaning as one of them lifted her skirt – under which there was only bare flesh and a thicket of crisp hair surrounding the chubby mound of slitted delight – and creeping up the satiny smoothness of her rounded inner thigh, began caressing the lips of her mound, rubbing and stroking them apart. She gasped as the fingers found her sensitive clitoris.

    “Oh, take me!” she whispered urgently.

    Awkwardly divesting himself of his breeches, he freed the rigid penis which stood up throbbingly – the foreskin pulled down from the bulbous head and exposing a muscular column still mottled with livid scars – as it pulsed with excitement and readiness. Iona glanced down, seeing the stiffened shaft and her eyes widened in fascination.

    “So that's what a man looks like! Why, it's a handsome thing indeed!” She struggled to a sitting position, reaching for the upright penis and closing a gentle fist about its column. “It's so hard, so strong and sure!”

    “Suck it!” Ignacio's muttered plea was hardly audible as he twisted around, burying his own face between her thighs, snuggling upwards until his mouth was pressed to her velvety lips and closing over the delicate crevice, a tongue darting forth to insert itself between the moist walls of her gash and flickering in search of the clitoris. “Suck it while I suck you!”

    Obediently she lowered her head, relaxing upon her side as she took the bulbous head gently into her mouth, letting it loll upon her tongue as she sensually nursed upon its pulsating hardness – feeling his mouth wetly working upon her organ as he nuzzled and sucked.

    For a few moments they lay like that, each giving the other pleasure with their mouths diligently busy upon one another's private parts – until, with an abrupt increase in excitement and a flurry of motion, they surged into a simultaneous orgasm, grunting and sucking frenziedly as his hot juice spurted into her avid mouth and shocks of enjoyment contracted her cunt with each electrifying jab of his tongue.

    They pulled apart when the violence of their mutual climax had passed, both panting rapidly and resting in labored silence.

    “Th-that was m-marvelous pleasure!” she murmured, lying peacefully upon her back with half-closed eyes. “Feeling you discharge your fluid only made me more lustful, I fear! I hope we may do that bit of delightful ardor often, dear Ignacio!”

    “We can,” he replied dreamily. “I'm very fond of that particular pleasure.”

    After a moment or two, her hand crept down to his penis, toying with it idly until it gradually erected again, and when it was entirely hardened, he rolled over, positioning himself between her thighs and nursing greedily upon her plump melons while he made tiny stabs at her opened crotch with his aching rammer.

    “Oh, put it in – put it in!” she begged, raising her behind to assist him. “Take me with all your strength, my love!”

    “It will hurt a trifle.”

    “I welcome the pain – if it means having you within my body, beloved Ignacio!”

    He thrust the member into her wet and yielding entry in a steady plunging penetration that drew a sharp gasp of pain from her throat that was almost immediately followed by a moaning of contentment as he began moving the long hard instrument in and out to the head with slow powerful strokes that soon had the girl frantic with passion. She clung to him, her fingers scrabbling madly at his shoulders and her legs scissoring his waist, the heels of her bare feet drumming wildly upon his buttocks as he screwed relentlessly. She grunted urgently, squirming and lifting herself to each driving plunge of his prick as it stabbed deeply into her cunt – her legs quivering with the tension building up as orgasm approached.

    Then his self-control dissolved and they launched into a madness of motion, both of them making animalistic sounds of gratification while their climaxes dimmed their senses and sent them into a grindingly brief spasm of savage movements which shortly ended in total exhaustion, leaving them sobbing for air as they limply slumped apart.

    The familiarity of the act reminded me of the contest between the scheming Greek and Bullpole still in progress within the building, and my curiosity was revived – wondering just which man would indeed win the contest even though I tended to favor the clever Greek thanks to his insidiously careful plans to insure a superhuman endurance. Leaving the exhausted young lovers still lying wearily in the aftermath of their performance, I returned to the room where the contest was taking place.

    It was still in progress.

    The contestants definitely showed signs of increasing strain now, despite the grim pace that was still being maintained. I had fully expected to find Bullpole lagging considerably behind a Greek immune to exhaustion but, strangely enough, this was not the case. The Greek was undeniably flagging in his thrusts which now obviously lacked the drive and powerful surging effect of his initial motions; while Bullpole pounded along with an equal degree of determined consistency, albeit also indicating far less freshness and strength than his earlier performances had delivered.

    Climaxing again within seconds of each other, Bullpole gestured for another girl – rolling free of the deflowered virgin into whom he had just deposited another charge of his juices, and breathing heavily while a tense-eyed brunette was led to his couch. He rolled between her trembling thighs with undisguised disinterest, his immense penis still erect as he pushed it unenthusiastically into her well-greased pit, ignoring her shrill cry of pain and the involuntary flinching of her impaled body as he resumed a ponderous thrusting calculated to bring him to an orgasm as swiftly and directly as possible, his grunting the result of physical effort rather than lustful enjoyment.

    At the same time the Greek signaled for another replacement – having spasmed his juices into the motionless redhead beneath his pumping loins – and narrowly eyed his opponent as he rested, waiting for the pale, sad-eyed blonde who was forcibly led to the couch and positioned in readiness. He went between her plump thighs with an air of resignation, listlessly jamming his still-stiffened member into her lubricated hole and thrusting mechanically while she yipped in pain, threshing about uselessly as his truncheon stabbed in and out of her violated organ with a monotonous tempo.

    Two more girls later, Bullpole called for a refreshment halt and both men rolled upon their backs with grateful sighs of relief while attendants hurriedly served wine and biscuits.

    “I have always believed that we Spaniards were the most virile men on earth,” rumbled Bullpole yawning fulsomely, “but now I must confess that you Greeks are indeed our equal, judging from the endurance which you are exhibiting.”

    “How generous, old friend,” panted the Greek. “Frankly, you have just expressed my own conviction on the subject, but in reverse – and it's rather dismaying to be educated to the fact that you are the living legend of virility that your far-flung reputation lauds you to be!”

    But how you press that reputation to a thinness in order for it to survive. Without shame, I must admit I feel just a tinge of weariness beginning to flicker in my balls. This is a new sensation for me.”

    “I, too, know the vague awareness of feeling spent – also unknown previously to me.”

    Bullpole drank a pitcher of crimson wine without stopping until it was emptied, hurling it to the floor and belching loudly as he wiped his wine-stained mouth with the back of one of his huge hands. “Well, I always finish what I begin – no matter how demanding of myself or others. It's a cardinal rule of my very existence.”

    “Greek honor requires precisely the same of me.” The Greek drained his pitcher, dropping it to the couch. “Even though I must fuck until my balls shrink to the size of stunted peas, I shall see this contest to the end of my strength.”

    They glanced disgustedly at each other.

    “The fanaticism of such honor lends awe to your faithful support of it,” dryly chuckled Bullpole. “But, after all, it's your health that such a code endangers and I can only respect your sincerity in courageously risking your future virility if that's what you needs must do.”

    The Greek grinned evilly. “Exactly! And I view your personal philosophy on the subject with sad admiration since it, too, jeopardizes your later years carnally without a doubt; but if you're bold enough to chance the tragic results of brash overindulgence, who am I – being a mere guest in your house – to gainsay your conduct in the matter?”

    Hatred flickered briefly in the yellow eyes but Bullpole smiled faintly. The Greek returned the smile with his own that was but a shade removed from being an impudent smirk.

    “Ah, well,” sighed Bullpole, stretching his vast bulk. “Had I suggested this contest, I might feel qualified to determine at what point I should concede defeat. But it wasn't my idea and having agreed to participate – I lack the authority to do other than continue as long as I possibly can.”

    “True enough,” replied the grinning Greek. “And as the instigator of the competition, I'm honor-bound to fulfill its course to the end of my strength since it would be crass rudeness bordering upon sheer insult were I to do other than extend my sense of honorable respect to your own avowed rule of completing what you have agreed to begin.”

    Gesturing impatiently for another pair of girls to be brought to their couches, Bullpole prepared to resume the contest – handling himself gingerly and holding the great penis in readiness as it jutted stiffly out from the mass of tangled hair covering his huge testes.

    “Let's get on with it,” he grumbled.

    “Any time!” chuckled the Greek, fondling his own estimable organ until it was again hard and long. “I have the definite feeling that now we shall end this competition, one way or another!”

    Attendants led a weeping redhead to the Greek's couch, a grim-faced blonde to Bullpole's – and no sooner had the virgins been positioned than each man forced himself between the smooth thighs of each girl, burrowing his organ into the soft cunt hair and past the lubricated lips until his member went lunging into her hole – rupturing the hymen and plunging deeply within the vaginal passageway while she writhed and shrieked in pain.

    Fucking intently and ignoring the cacophony of anguished cries, they pumped with steady rhythms until – this time the Greek leading by a few seconds-both men once more reached orgasms and furiously undulated their juices into the squirming bodies pinned beneath them.

    And so it went, time after time, with neither man showing the slightest sign of defeating exhaustion or having been bested by his opponent's continued virility. Gradually, however, the Greek began glancing worriedly more frequently at Bullpole who, in turn, glanced at the Greek with a perturbed expression when the other's attention was riveted upon the girl under him.

    I sensed that a moment of decision was swiftly approaching. And it came indeed shortly thereafter with most surprising results. Straining simultaneously for yet another orgasm, Bullpole and the Greek slumped forward upon the girls in identical motions of total quits – each wearing an expression of dismay upon his face as he pitched forward with undisguised exhaustion.

    “I cannot!” grunted Bullpole thickly.

    “I'm spent!” bleated the Greek.

    They stared disbelievingly at one another while the girls were removed and the physician closely examined the cunt of each girl, rising to announce with a bland expression: “Neither wench contains male juice, sire! Both wenches have been deflowered.”

    “What is the count?” muttered Bullpole.

    The scorekeeper cleared his throat. “An even thirty-two virgins apiece, sire. Which amounts to a draw. There is no winner, no loser, sir.”

    The Greek regained his poise with magnificent speed and smoothness, grinning at Bullpole as he sat up on the edge of the couch and reached for a pitcher of wine handed him by a flirtatious little attendant wiggling her scantily draped curves at him in open invitation.

    “Well, we're both good men, old friend!” laughed the Greek. “It seems that we shall have to face that fact! To your splendid virility, sir!”

    Bullpole stared coldly. “Yes, that would indeed seem to be the case. Well, perhaps there will be another way, at another time.”

    “For what, old friend?”

    “For a final opportunity to determine who is the better man at what activity!” Bullpole rose wearily to his feet, starting out of the room with abrupt rudeness. “I dislike even results where any of my abilities are concerned!”

    The Greek's face went thoughtfully hard.

    Intuition bade me leap upon Bullpole as he went past the Greek, knowing that only if I accompanied that tyrant would I likely learn anything more about his mysterious ability to last during what had been a most unfair contest against him.

    Intuition, as always, was indeed perceptive.


    Bullpole sat in a wide chair with his thighs apart, watching his physician carefully remove the material sheathing his organ. His brooding eyes studied the flesh-tinted sheath that had enabled him to maintain a stiffness long after his own organ would have been capable of remaining fully erect, due to sexual exhaustion.

    A guard appeared in the doorway, waiting.

    “What is it?” demanded Bullpole, glancing up as the physician completed removing the protective device from the huge and reddened member. “Don't just stand there, you dolt! Deliver your message!”

    “One of the Greek's group has requested to talk with you, sire.”

    “Bring him here.” Bullpole winced, carefully putting his penis under his loose robe. “And be certain that nobody sees him enter this chamber.”

    Soon, the guard returned – escorting the aged seer whose magical chemistry had assured his stern master the degree of success he had attained in the orgiastic contest.

    Bullpole waved all the others out of the room, turning to the bearded, serene-faced sage as soon as they were alone. “You and your family's safety is assured, thanks to your willingness to warn me of that conniving bastard's trick. A ship is now on the way to Athens. Your relatives will be taken aboard it, a counterfeit pass with the Greek's own seal on it guaranteeing them safe conduct to the ship. So you need have no worry about your loved ones, old man.”

    “I thank you, sire.” The ancient magician's voice quavered with gratitude and relief.

    “No thanks are necessary. It was part of our… ah… agreement, and you will find that I always keep my end of any bargain I choose to make. Your idea about sheathing my member worked nicely. And you shall be further rewarded for that.”

    “Yes, sire.” The old greybeard bowed respectfully.

    “I shall require you to endanger only your own life and that merely for a few more days by continuing to masquerade as the Greek's trusted sorcerer, collecting whatever knowledge of his plans that you and your nameless underlings can obtain – and putting that information at my disposal.”

    “It shall be done, sire.”

    “Needless to say, when I have entirely finished with that deceitful son of a goat and have acquired his palatial holdings in Athens, you and your underlings will join me openly as my privileged employees and enjoy many rewarding advantages that you have not possessed while serving the Greek.”

    “You will be kept advised of every detail, each aspect of any plans the man may concoct, sire. All my helpers are as equally dedicated to serving you as am I – and as I've proven my willingness to share knowledge with you at the possible cost of my life.” A faint smile twisted the thin old lips. “After all, sire, you might've consulted the man on the basis of your long friendship with him.”

    Bullpole yawned. “You were in no danger at any time, old stick. I have never credited friendship with that much worth in my whole life.”

    The sage's smile became more wry.

    “You're very practical, sire,” he murmured with a respectful tone. “Very realistic indeed, sire.”

    “Survival requires it.” Bullpole gestured airily. “Go now and keep your old eyes and ears open for me. You will never regret loyalty to me.”

    “I'm sure I won't, sire.”

    Bowing as he backed humbly out of the room, the ancient magician departed – and I departed with him, boarding his elderly carcass in my determination to stay abreast of developments relating to this lively intrigue taking place so shrewdly, so deceptively between Bullpole and the Greek.

    Clinging to him, I found myself within the Greek's apartments a few moments later.

    Lolling comfortably on a couch, munching upon fruit, the Greek studied the powerfully built young man standing before him. Ignacio waited with an expression of blended nervousness and hope etched upon his handsome face.

    “I'm given to understand that you have been with Bullpole ever since you were little more than a mere boy – some nine years now,” mused the Greek aloud.

    “Th-that's correct, my lord.” Ignacio's voice quavered with uncertainty.

    “And you no longer regard him with… ah… the same degree of trust and admiration that once symbolized your indebtedness to him?”

    “True, your lord.” Ignacio's face darkened with remembered pain and humiliation. “He punished me most cruelly for a trifling error. I'll not ever forget that.”

    The Greek popped a grape into his bearded mouth. “Would you like to join my little entourage, lad? Think carefully now. Once committed, you must be content to serve me for the rest of my life – and my punishments for disloyalty make Bullpole's seem like the fumblings of an amateur by comparison. So I advise you to ponder the matter before deciding your choice. I'm a just master.”

    Ignacio nodded grimly. “I've heard you are, and I'd prefer to serve you, sire.”

    “Done, then!”

    “M-my gratitude, my lord.”

    Suddenly, a lovely woman swept into the room with bold confidence, stopping as she saw Ignacio. A sensual smile lifted her wide-lipped mouth and her gray, exotic-ally tilted eyes went over his tall, muscular body with excited flickerings.

    “Hello, my darling,” said the Greek, making room for the woman on the couch and caressing one of her full breasts possessively as she sat down, still staring hungrily at Ignacio. “This young man has just become another faithful member of my huge and trusted household, fair Maria. Isn't he a grand specimen of manhood at its finest – for a Spaniard?”

    She nodded, her eyes glinting with desire as they rove Ignacio's sturdy frame while he blushed under the brash examination.

    “Yes, indeed,” she murmured throatily. “A most exciting specimen, my lord! And one who could, I wager, provide us with a delightful performance if you but command it!”

    Ignacio glanced at her – undoubtedly realizing as I surely did that this imperious redhead with her perfection of curves and lustily tempting manner was none other than sweet Iona's mistress and the Greek's own favorite trollop – and only briefly, standing paralyzed with embarrassment.

    “All right, my fleshly-minded Maria!” roared the Greek in appreciative laughter, squeezing her tits with both hands. “You shall have the little performance of sexual exertion. Name any combination your hot eyes would behold and I shall indeed command Ignacio to action!”

    “Two girls,” she whispered thickly. “I want to see this young stud make love to two girls at the same time, fucking them both before he is finished!”

    “You heard the delightful terms, lad?” The Greek's satanic features crinkled into a grinning mask of carnal glee. “You will proceed as suggested the moment the girls arrive.”

    The Greek spoke a few swift words to a nearby attendant who hurried away.

    “My lord?” said Ignacio.

    “Yes?” The Greek stroked Maria's rounded, bare thigh as he nibbled daintily upon a pear. “You may speak, my boy.”

    “I'm – I'm to f-fuck in the presence of this lady and y-yourself?”

    The Greek nodded. “Yes, you will. Nothing to fear. We require such entertainment of our subordinates from time to time. In fact, should the lady ever order you to do so in my absence, you will follow her orders to the letter or suffer my displeasure. Is that clearly understood?”

    Ignacio slowly nodded, his eyes meeting the heated eyes of the sensual Maria and seeing the avid lust simmering in them that promised him future orders of a far more personal nature. A slow and calculated lowering of her right eyelid – the one furtherest from the Greek's sight – delivered a lewd wink that left no doubt whatsoever regarding the tenor of her forthcoming demands upon Ignacio's obvious youthful virility.

    An attendant led two petite and totally nude girls into the room. Both were about sixteen and each was a delectable example of young femaleness at its most ripely tempting stage. The small blonde's well-rounded curves and heavy breasts were in contrast to the equally short but slender brunette's lithe charms, her breasts being higher and more pointed, her thighs appealingly slim with her dark triangle of crisp hair at their apex – in which was nestled her fatty mound with its pursed lips as was the chubby hill with its firmly slitted valley hidden within the curly golden silk of the blonde's pubic thatch. The brunette's nipples were a soft strawberry hue, the blonde's a toothsome pink. Each girl wore her hair streaming loosely, flowing down her velvety shoulders and back in a wild profusion of thickly cascading beauty.

    “Well?” grunted the Greek.

    “They'll do very nicely,” said Maria looking the luscious pair over with a hard and critical eye. “Not the finest sluts I've seen but rounded enough to keep Ignacio well fired, I presume.”

    Ignacio stared at the girls and they stared at him in return, knowing exactly what they were to do and knowing that it must be done well or risk the Greek's displeasure.

    “Strip!” ordered the Greek languidly, crunching a mouthful of mixed nuts and raisins. “Allow your charming little cohorts to view the excellent prick with which you will impale them, lad!”

    Ignacio undressed clumsily, nearly unbalancing himself when he hoisted first one hairy leg, then the other, from his tight britches – revealing an already stiffened penis that waggled erectly with each motion of his body.

    “What a lovely sword!” crooned Maria, eyeing the swollen member and licking her wide lips.

    “Yes, a most estimable weapon indeed,” agreed the Greek affably. “Now to see what manner of swordsman the lad may be! Proceed at once!”

    Ignacio moved hesitantly, at first, toward the waiting blonde, pulling her to the thickly carpeted floor and she snuggled close to him immediately, whispering: “I mind not being taken by such as you! But be slow about it! Make it last! They enjoy a prolonged fucking! And so do I, you handsome brute!”

    Without replying, he buried his face between her plump breasts, kissing them alternately as he pressed himself to her warmth. Then his mouth closed around a nipple while his hand stole to her crotch where it played and fondled the ivory lips of her crevice as she writhed and undulated her broad hips in a rising ecstasy of pleasure.

    Joining them on the floor, the brunette began kissing the bulbous tip of his large and throbbing penis – grasping its hardened column in both of her small hands – until, suddenly, her opened mouth went completely over the head of the member and she started sucking steadily, her face bobbing in a slow rhythm as she slid her busy mouth up and down the length of the organ.

    “By the steaming crotch of Zeus!” exclaimed the Greek passionately. “There's a sight to start the heart of any mortal man! See how that brunette sucks with salacious care! See how the organ visibly expands within her wet and greedy mouth!”

    “Indeed!” breathed Maria, watching the group on the floor, slithering over and under one another as they shifted positions, Ignacio now nursing eagerly at the brunette's softly lipped cunt while the imaginative blonde mouthed his penis and fingered the other girl who, in turn, buried her face between the blonde's thighs and slobbered upon the divided mound nestled there. “There are few things more exciting to hold in one's mouth than a pulsating male member! Oh, yes, this is a stimulating scene!”

    “See how they change and enjoy each other's parts with smooth dexterity!” The Greek's laughter pealed across the room. “This trio well knows the art of love-play! All three shall be rewarded with gold and privileges!”

    Ignacio now inserted himself between the slim thighs of the panting brunette who arched her back, lifting a lean but well-licked set of cunt-lips to meet the oncoming bulb of his member which parted them neatly as it plunged past them and into her depths – earning a moan of pleasure from the girl as she felt the large cock stab into her tunnel.

    Energetically, the blonde attached herself to Ignacio's moving buttocks, spreading the muscular cheeks and penetrating his rectal opening with a darting tongue. At the first intrusion of that pink flame, his thrusts grew faster and harder as he drove the throbbing prick in and out of the gasping brunette's yielding vagina. More swiftly and violently went the lustful motions and then a storm of furious movement indicated that Ignacio and the brunette were climaxing frenziedly until a shrill quavering cry from the girl's throat gave vent to a series of grunting spasms emanating from Ignacio's slack mouth – and they finished with a savage intensity that loosened the blonde's hold and sent her tumbling across the carpet.

    While Ignacio still lay slumped upon his right ribs, laboring to regain his breath, the blonde hurled herself upon his softening penis – swallowing it to its hilt rooted in his black pubic hair and working her mouth frantically along its length until, at last, she lifted her face to reveal a fully hardened prick ready for another thrusting.

    “See how she opens those chubby thighs to accept that fine lance – so rigidly prepared to stab her entry-way and create enjoyment in its path!” The Greek howled with exultant excitement. “And how the ebony-haired one drinks his dribbling juices from those magnificent balls while he rams his lance inward! Oh, the poetic motion of this event!”

    “I cannot stand it without sharing a touch of lusty handling!” cried Maria. “Please fondle me, my lord! Do something while we watch!”

    Twice each, Ignacio fucked the girls until his straining balls sent forth a charge of surging lust that raced the length of his tense, stiff member – exploding madly in a torrent of juices that ignited each partner to gleeful orgasm, they clutching and clawing at him while they groaned in pleasurable climax, their legs scissored about his lean waist until the seconds of ecstasy had lessened into relaxed numbness. Twice each, they squirmed and undulated their smoking pits until the ruthless bulb-headed intruder had spit triumphant spasms of lust that unhinged their sanities momentarily, turning each girl into a demented animal who mewed and grunted sharply in her enjoyment of the rigid weapon lunging joyously within her quivering body.

    Then, finally exhausted to the point of needing an hour's rest before he might yet again find it possible to continue, Ignacio rolled free of female flesh – panting loudly and staring up at the couch where the Greek was intently thrusting his mammoth penis in and out of the upturned cunt presented to him by a fiery-eyed Maria who rocked with each driving thrust as she knelt on her hands and knees, her robe hoisted up to expose her behind, while the sweating, mumbling Greek fucked her bestially from the rear – his face a contorted mask of lust and straining effort.

    Opening her mouth, she darted her tongue out in a rapid succession of tiny thrusts – looking straight at Ignacio as she did so, and winking again.

    “Oh, you poor fine lover!” whispered a gasping, panting blonde sprawled contentedly beside him. “I pity you!”

    “Why so?” he whispered back.

    “The master's favorite wants you – and I've seen her fuck some of the most powerful guardsmen until they were dying of exhaustion!”

    “There are worse deaths,” he replied bitterly.

    Abruptly, the Greek's hoarse shout of satisfaction bellowed forth as he pumped savagely at Maria's white buttocks in a frenzy of final thrustings that drained his swinging balls.

    Still Maria pinned Ignacio with her eyes.

    Some hours later, the Greek took his evening coffee on a remote and deserted veranda overlooking the distant sea – his singular companion the brawny Ignacio who listened attentively to the instructions being detailed to him.

    “You must rejoin – seemingly – Bullpole's household and pretend that your former sense of longstanding loyalty still indwells within your heart. Actually, you will be spying for me while you await the development of my… er… plans that are still in the preliminary stage.”

    “That won't be difficult,” said Ignacio. “I'm not suspect – not now. I've been punished for my mistake. Bullpole even believes that his orders that I be castrated were carried out – and it's known that he particularly trusts the eunuchs of his empire. I'll be entirely safe.”

    The Greek nodded approvingly. “Splendid! All the more convenient for you to get wind of any nefarious ideas or schemes that may flit across that swine's scummy mind. And, mind you, my lad, I want to hear every rumor, every piece of gossip that could possibly carry a shard of truth to it.”

    “I understand, my lord.”

    “When the right time comes, I shall entrust you with a most important task.” The Greek stared at Ignacio with flinty eyes. “I prefer to allow you the privilege since I count upon Bullpole's having threatened to deprive you of your noteworthy manhood to keep you exceedingly loyal to me – and the demanding chore you will be expected to fulfill with accuracy and dispatch.”

    “I shall, your lord.”

    “You won't live an hour afterward if you fail. I'll give orders to that extent. You may be sure of it.” The Greek sipped his coffee. “Also, I have another very small matter I shall ask you to attend for me.”

    “Name it, my lord.”

    “I have reason to believe that my heated little Maria no longer remains faithful physically to me. It's not terribly important, you understand. I've had favorites betray me before – for a while. But I've granted her a special degree of freedom and status in exchange for her natural beauty and innate sensuality. I want you -” he leaned forward, his smile cruel and steady, “- to immediately notify me, should Maria ever tempt you.”

    “Tempt me, your lordship?” Ignacio's surprise and disbelief were genuine enough, despite what he had already seen and heard. “I know many women find the sight of my masculinity exciting, but why would a woman risk her -”

    “Because she is a chronic nymphomaniac who may not find my unusual virility satisfaction enough, that's why! But more important than that, I care not to have anyone who has cajoled some of my better secrets in the excitement of darkness from my heart – I detest the very possibility that she just might use that information for her own betterment.”

    “I – I don't understand, my lord.”

    “You're not required to understand. Simply do as I've ordered you to do: tell me instantly if she ever attempts to provoke you into an intimate relationship. You understand that?”

    “I understand, my lord.”

    “Fine, lad. You will do very nicely in my service, I believe. You may go now. I prefer to be completely alone at this hour to meditate.”

    Rising and bowing low, Ignacio departed and I with him, striding quietly the length of the isolated veranda and descending the hundreds of steps leading to the main buildings of the palace. No sooner had he reached the courtyard than he halted abruptly, staring at the line of girls being marched across the courtyard as they were led by guards into the palace grounds.

    “Por Dios,” he exclaimed softly. “By God, look at the new ones! A veritable army of virgins! All gathered from every part of the world!”

    Silently, except for one here and there in the straggling line who was crying quietly, the tired-faced creatures stumbled dejectedly behind one another – prodded heartlessly by their guards when they exhaustedly wavered from the line or failed to move promptly enough.

    They looked more unkempt and dirtier than the group Ignacio had helped bring from England. I could only assume that some of Bullpole's virgin collectors didn't treat their cargoes as well as the old captain had. These miserable wenches seemed in terrible condition, physically and mentally.

    Most of them were genuine beauties beneath their soiled and tattered garments, their stained features detracting only superficially from their natural attractiveness – and they were very young women, some of them barely past puberty.

    Ignacio leaned against a wall, watching the seemingly endless line of girls meekly stagger past him at a slight distance as they blindly followed each other across the courtyard and into one of the buildings where they would undoubtedly be bathed and fed, and allowed to rest.

    Suddenly, a tiny, well-shaped brunette swayed on her feet, uttered a faint cry and toppled to the ground. Guards leaped toward her the moment her petite figure lay sprawled awkwardly upon the bricks, blocking the line's progress as the next girl behind her stopped, peering stupidly down at the fallen wench. Silently and swiftly, one of the guards scooped her up into his arms while the other man urged the line forward, shoving the girls into their painfully labored walk again while his fellow carried the unconscious virgin into the building where all were headed.

    “Quite a sight, isn't it?” said a voice acidly.

    Ignacio whirled about to find Iona standing behind him in the shadows. Her face bore a grim expression and her eyes burned into his with intense emotion. “I suppose a certain number of them will eventually be available to you – once Bullpole or my master are finished with them!”

    “Iona! You startled me!” He smiled down at her. “What are you doing out here in the darkness at this late hour? Don't you realize there are many guards who would delight in catching you – would unhesitantly rape you if they could lay their hands upon such a tender morsel in the safety of the night?”

    “Don't tell me that prospect worries you!” Her tone was sarcastic. “After all, I haven't seen you in a long time. Perhaps I'd welcome the attention from a stalwart guard even if it did mean submitting to his brutal lust!”

    “What's wrong? You sound angered.”

    “Why shouldn't I be angered! You've made it plain enough that you no longer want me – having had my virginity that I was foolish enough to give to you – and you certainly have avoided me these past days!”

    “Not deliberately!”

    She laughed bitterly.

    “It's the truth!” he protested. “I did what you suggested – went to your master and told him that I wanted to join his household, and gave him my reasons. I can't help it if he keeps me too busy to attend to my own affairs.”

    “Oh, I'm sure he'll keep you very busy!” Scorn tinged her voice, contempt twisted her features. “And if he doesn't, my mistress will!”

    “Iona, be realistic,” Ignacio pleaded. “We are merely possessions. We have no freedom to live our lives as we might wish. We must do as we are bid. I prefer to serve the Greek because I think he's more just than Bullpole – but that means doing exactly what I'm ordered to do.”

    “Yes, I heard how you followed your orders to the letter with those girls. I must say it was quite obedient of you. Apparently, you are very exact in your obedience!”

    “You – You heard about that?”

    She nodded. “Gossip travels constantly throughout this place. And those little sluts weren't at all reluctant to describe the loathsome event – especially since they seemed so taken with your abilities as a lover!”

    “I was ordered to do it.”

    “I know you were.”

    He sighed. “Well, then, why are you making it sound as though I deliberately did it for my own pleasure?”

    “You enjoyed it!”

    He studied her accusing face. “Any man would have found a degree of pleasure in making love to beautiful young women. Men aren't like women, Iona. If you're forced to submit, you can feel resentment and be repulsed by the act. A man cannot but help enjoy lustful acts – even when they must be performed in a humiliating fashion such as I experienced that day, believe it or not.”

    “I cannot understand it.”

    He sighed again. “All right, then there's no point in our discussing it. I did what I was ordered to do. I'll do whatever I'm ordered to do. It's the only hope for survival and a long life I have. If you cannot accept that – bedamned to you!”

    Her enraged eyes swam in tears. Gritting her teeth, she clenched them hard to regain her emotional control, her entire body trembling with fury and despair – her jealousy obvious.

    “Well, I'm – I'm sure you'll find your newest assignment very enjoyable! In fact, y-you'll probably find it even easier to obey than the last one!”

    “What are you babbling about?”

    “I was sent looking for you this night,” she said tersely, turning from him and starting to walk away, hurling the words over her shoulder. “My mistress sent me in search of you.”

    “Your mistress? Maria?”

    “She wants you to go to her private chamber!”


    The sly-eyed little attendant quietly closed the door behind Ignacio who now stood tensely in the private chamber – a dimly lighted cavern of a room, splendidly furnished and containing the unusually large, circular bed in its center.

    Upon the bed lounged Maria, clad in a garment of sheer material, its flimsiness revealing the darkness of her nipples tipping each large and heavy breast, the triangle of dusky hair between her full and rounded thighs as well as the clean lines of her arms, torso and legs.

    She patted the bed invitingly. “You needn't stand there so formally. Come here. Sit. Be more comfortable while we talk.”

    He went slowly to the edge of the bed, gingerly lowering himself to a sitting position and staring down at his booted feet, his face an empty mask.

    She smiled warmly. “You seem nervous. Surely, a tall strong fellow like you isn't afraid of a mere woman like me?”

    He shook his head, eyes still averted.

    “Then,” she continued, her hand reaching to his back and lightly stroking it, “why not relax and enjoy our – our little visit? I didn't send for you to have a sullen, silent guest. I rather hoped we might find much in common.”

    He nodded imperceptibly.

    Her hand went to his thigh, pinching it and rubbing it with undisguised enthusiasm. “You know that I want you, don't you.”

    “Yes, my lady.” His voice was low, even.

    “Then I order you to – no, I shan't order you to do anything. It would lack something if you were merely obedient. I want you to crave me as much as I hunger for you!” The insistent hand plucked at his stiffening penis beneath his tight breeches. “Doesn't that feel good?”

    “Yes, my lady.”

    “Oh, stop speaking so respectfully to me, you young dolt! I'm so hot I steam inside – and you sit there like a wart on a toad, behaving most properly! Have you no blood in your veins? No lust in your balls?”

    He raised his eyes to her eyes, staring with somber-ness. “Yes, I feel desire, my lady. But I also feel a sense of caution. You might be testing me for loyalty. You might be simply following the Greek's instructions.”

    She shrilled with laughter. “Oh, that's too funny for words, you fool! Why, if that great man knew I was sitting here, provoking your lust – I would be in greater danger of losing my life than you, you imbecile!”

    “Perhaps, my lady.”

    “Perhaps, my soft white ass! I sent for-you because I want you to do everything to me that a virile man can do to a passionate woman – for no other reason! You must believe that!”

    “Then, you must order me to do whatever you desire.” Ignacio's voice was stubborn. “Because that's the only way I'm willing to cooperate with your passion, my lady.”

    She stared at him with blazing eyes, frustrated by his stubbornness. Then she sighed impatiently. “Oh, all right, you mule-ish bastard! I'm going to sample you, one way or the other. Fucking is fucking. I guess it matters not how I have you take me in the long run!”

    “Yes, my lady.”

    “I order you to stop calling me 'my lady.' I order you to strip. I order you to make love to me! And just to save time and breath, I order you to do anything I demand or suggest!”

    “All right,” agreed Ignacio, grinning as he stood and began divesting himself of his boots, shirt and breeches. “Since I've been ordered – I must obey! And I shall – with immense pleasure!”

    She eyed his bared, swollen penis that jutted stiffly out from his naked body. “With a weapon that lovely and large – it can only be with immense pleasure for us both!”

    He hurled his shirt to the floor and turned to her, his grin wider and more lecherous than before. He tore the flimsy gown from her body in a single jerk that left her as nude as himself.

    “Now, what first?” he chuckled.

    “Oh, I must have this!” she moaned, doubling over and grasping his upright organ with both hands as she lowered her mouth to its plum-shaped tip. “I must suck your pretty red lollypop!”

    “Suck away all you like!”

    Her mouth closed expertly over the head of his penis and he shuddered with enjoyment as her tongue darted teasingly around the sensitive tip, a blissful expression coming over his face.

    “You – You suck nicely! Th-That's it! Go back and forth over the tip! That's fine! Oh, sweet God in the afternoon heat! That feels so good when you bear down like that on each down-stroke! God, but you know how to nurse a cock, woman!” And all the time he talked, he squirmed as her busy mouth and tongue worked diligently upon his rigid member, igniting the lust in his big balls, sending it hurtling up the column of hardened muscle and into her fiendishly clever mouth – spasm after spasm of juice gushing hotly down her gullet as she swallowed every last drop of it, wiping her lips on the bed-cover when she finally lifted her head.

    “Now,” she said huskily. “You put your mouth on me! And don't be surprised if you discover that I'm no ordinary woman with an ordinary pussy!”

    They shifted positions. She lay upon her back, legs spread widely and raised into the air. He lay flat on his belly, his head shoved up to her crotch. Her thicket of dark hair touching his face as he prepared to push his mouth forward, engulfing the pursed lips of the velvety crevice in her chubby mound nestled amid the hairy frame.

    “Watch!” she whispered.

    The velvety lips began twitching and rippling. Then they parted gently – puckering up and making a soft kissing sound.

    “Por Dios!” he exclaimed. “By God, I've never seen or heard a cunt do anything like that!”

    “I have unique control!” she giggled.

    “Do it again!” he demanded. “I wish to see that cunt-mouth kiss again!”

    She repeated the performance.

    “Magnificent!” he said. “Utterly magnificent!”

    “Now eat me!” she urged. “Eat me slowly and greedily and endlessly – until I shriek for you to stop!”

    His mouth descended over her mound, parting the rippling lips and closing upon her clitoris as he began sucking and licking at the tender flesh of her cunt, slobbering into the slit, tonguing the large button of a clitoris and inserting his tongue wickedly into her hole – feeling her flinch with enjoyment as it slid in and out rapidly, hearing her sighs and moans as he slavered over the organ wetly and steadily.

    “Madness!” she grunted hoarsely, writhing and undulating her body, clutching his busy head in both her hands. “Sheer madness! I shall never be sane again after this lovely, unbearable madness! Faster! Eat me faster – and more greedily!”

    His mouth and tongue complied.

    “Oh, by the terrible tits of the sea-sirens!” she howled, twisting and straining as she lifted her crotch to grind it into his face, frantically helping him press into her cunt, “I love this bit of foolery! Yes, I -” Her words blurred into a torrent of incoherent sounds as the orgasm gripped her, the violence of its pleasure turning her into a hissing, yowling animal. For long seconds she went through a frenzy of motion and noise until the climax was exhausted – slumping dazedly back upon the bed with glazed eyes and a benumbed expression.

    Ignacio raised his head, his mouth glistening with a mixture of her lubricatory juice and his own saliva. “Sounded as though you really enjoyed that performance. I don't think I've ever seen or heard any women become quite that excited.”

    “I – I love oral sex.” Her tone was dreamy. “I just – adore being taken in that manner, and when I've rested a bit – I want you to do it to me again while I suck your big, beautiful prick!”

    “Yes, my lady,” he replied mockingly.

    At this point I became suddenly restless and quite bored with the scene. Realizing this, even a creature of my lowly estate has, I believe, the natural right to seek a more comfortable state of mind; and I immediately set out for Bullpole's quarters since I hadn't seen that gruesome gentleman for quite sometime.

    Bullpole was entertaining the wily Greek when I arrived – via a bustling servant bringing them beakers of wine – and judging from the shrewd glitter in the Greek's slanting eyes, his intense enthusiasm indicated another campaign to gull the stolid Bullpole. I leaped from the departing servant to an overhead beam where I listened and watched with more than a little interest.

    “Granted,” boomed Bullpole, “that a holiday would be most welcome indeed. I do weary of even these suitable and familiar surroundings from time to time. A visit to your establishment might be just the refreshment needed for my mind and body.”

    “Oh, it would, I assure you!” The Greek sipped his goblet of wine, peering over the rim with bright, knowing eyes. “I would be honored to have you as my personal guest, and to arrange various little delights for your pleasure.”

    Bullpole smiled. “That sounds promising.”

    “Greece offers its own brand of sensuality, my old friend. Spain hasn't the only franchise upon pleasure, if you'll permit the observation. Besides, there is a particular aspect to our island that I'm sure will fascinate you.”


    The Greek nodded, swallowing wine. “Definitely. In fact, this aspect would require a man of your superlative virility since, quite frankly, no Greek is endowed with the sufficient sexual strength to attempt it without almost certainly losing his life.”

    Bullpole leaned forward, interest coming to life upon his broad face. “That sounds intriguing! Just what is this deadly aspect that no Greek dares to attempt? Tell me about it!”

    “Well, it's a traditional truth. You would probably regard it quite mistakenly as a mere legend – a fanciful story.” The Greek stroked his beard with a thoughtful expression. “Actually, it's as true now as it was in ancient times. She lives in the sea-caves still.”

    “Who does?”

    “The Mermaid.”

    Bullpole roared with laughter. “Oh, come now! You really believe that such mythological creatures as Mermaids really exist?”

    The Greek's face was solemn. “This one does, old friend. I can easily prove her existence for you by simply showing her to you.”

    “I believe what my eyes can behold.”

    “Then you will believe in her existence when your eyes behold her dangerous beauty – a beauty so ravishing that many men have lost their lives trying to possess her.”

    “Possess a Mermaid?” Bullpole looked puzzled. “But I have always seen them depicted as being half fish. How can a man take a -”

    “Falsely depicted, old friend. Real Mermaids are physically just like human females – with lovely legs and the usual delightful equipment between those legs – but bearing the ability to breathe beneath the sea. And since they are a lower class of immortals, they regard all human beings with a contempt that is murderous.”

    “Is that a fact now?” Bullpole's expression had become amused again. Obviously he wasn't believing a word the grim-faced Greek was saying. “And just what makes this little Mermaid so fatal?”

    “Because she knows – according to tradition – that should a human male ever succeed in sexually mastering her, possessing her with unusual endurance until she is weak with pleasure and must admit that she has been entirely seduced – all the treasures of the sea must be handed over to her seducer.”

    Skeptical greed – but greed, nevertheless – lit Bullpole's pale gold eyes. “And she possesses the power to give all the sea's treasures to the man who takes her?”

    “That's right. She cannot refuse anything he demands. When you think of the limitless riches hidden in the sea – gold and silver in sunken ships, fantastic jewels long buried in the sandy bottom – the mind is staggered by the realization of how wealthy that man would be, having seduced her and made himself owner of the greatest source of fortune on this planet. I see by your expression that you still doubt the veracity of this tale.”

    “It sounds like a fairy story.”

    “Well, it's not, old friend.” The Greek's voice lowered to a confidential murmur. “I've seen her. She does exist. I simply lacked the courage to gamble my life upon the strength of my balls and cock. I confess this to you in all confidence.”

    Bullpole studied the Greek with steady and most penetrating seriousness. “Your confidence will be respected. I admit, while still having difficulty believing this fascinating account, that I should like to see this deadly creature with my own eyes. Perhaps I have the courage necessary to attempting her seduction. I know I possess the sexual endurance and strength.”

    “Be not overly boastful, old friend. This is a serious matter whether or not you are able to fully comprehend and accept it.”

    “I suppose so, but I should like to see this Mermaid. Perhaps the actual sight of her would enable me to accept the tradition.”

    “Yes, that's reasonable.”

    Bullpole lifted his glass. “Then, here's to a pleasant voyage, an invigorating visit to your native land and to the possible sight of the Mermaid!”

    The Greek drank the toast with him.

    “I will request but a singular stipulation,” said Bullpole smiling strangely. “That you accompany me when I enter the sea-caves in search of this unlikely Mermaid of legend or fact.”

    “Oh, agreed, old friend!” The Greek grinned cheerfully. “I wouldn't think of sending you by yourself into that dank and unnerving place! Yes, I shall go with you most gladly.”

    “Good. Then I look forward to the experience. If, as you claim, there is a creature there who is to be seduced – I anticipate the adventure with relish! My empire of holdings was not built upon timid hesitation.”

    “You will see her. Whether or not you will be able to seduce her is another matter. I regard your courage with awe, old friend.”

    Bullpole smiled, obviously flattered – a weakness of character that I had sensed in him from weeks earlier. If anything was to be his undoing, it would be his own ego. That and his appetites for power and carnal pleasure which were surely as immense as his bulk.

    “We'll sail in a few days when the wind and tide has been forecast properly by my experts in the matter of travel.” Bullpole yawned. “Forgive my rudeness but I'm weary and must retire for a nap.”

    “Of course,” murmured the Greek, starting for the doorway and giving me the chance to board him as he went by the beam upon which I sat. “Until later, old friend. I have a delicious matter of some overdue pleasure to attend in my own quarters – a darling young creature whose virginity I've been saving for just such an afternoon dalliance and this evening seems a fine time to have at the beauteous wench since my balls are brimming with aching juice!”

    Stepping into another room leading to a main corridor, the Greek stopped – seeing his ancient magician silently stealing across a hallway without realizing the Greek was watching him.

    “By the wrath of the gods!” muttered the Greek, his eyes narrowing. “That old schemer is not supposed to be in these apartments. He's up to something treacherous, I'll wager. Well, he's just signed his own death warrant quite unknowingly!”

    Waiting until the elderly sage had vanished in the direction of Bullpole's most private chamber, the Greek continued on to his own suite – his face gradually smoothing out and losing the lines of rage and dark realization, and I knew the oldster was indeed doomed.

    Shortly thereafter, stripped naked and lying expectantly upon his couch in a dimly lit room, the Greek smiled lewdly as an attendant brought a nervous-looking Iona to the couch, removed her thin gown and quickly departed – leaving the ripely curved girl and the hairy Greek staring at each other's nude bodies.

    “You're quite beautiful, my dear,” crooned the Greek. “Lie down beside me. I wish to know you. And you shall have the honor of feeling your master's manhood -” he waggled his large and rigid penis at her playfully, “- within your untouched body for your first experience of human joy!”

    Iona crept upon the couch, her eyes averted. She lay unresisting as the Greek's hands and mouth began fondling and kissing every portion of her lovely young flesh – gasping as the bearded lips closed over her cunt and quietly moaning while he sucked and slobbered.

    “Take my shaft into your mouth, child!” he panted, momentarily lifting his head. “You may give me the same pleasure I'm giving you!”

    Twisting around so her face was closer to his upright member, she went down upon it – daintily nursing its bulbous head and warty column, and the Greek launched into a frenzy of sucking between the lips of her organ as he suddenly came – his spasms driving him wildly until he was temporarily drained of both juice and lustful verve.

    “Ah, that was most pleasant!” He relaxed upon his back, grinning at her as she carefully wiped the greasy traces of the juices she had swallowed from her mouth with a corner of the sheet covering the couch upon which they lay. “In fact, it was so pleasant and you did it so well, I suspect you no longer possess a virginity.”

    Iona broke into tearful sobs.

    “That's all right, sweet wench. You shan't be punished for the transgression. You were never ordered to keep yourself untouched and to do so even ordered in this palace of opportunity for pleasure might be damn near impossible! You'll not be punished. I'm sure you're still a very enjoyable little piece.”

    “Th-thank y-you, my 1-lord!” she sobbed.

    “But, tell me, little rascal.” He regarded her with an expression of intensity. “Has your mistress had any intimate visitors of late?”

    Iona hesitated, her knowledge clearly reflected within her tormented eyes.

    “You must tell me,” he insisted gently. “It's a matter of greater importance than you could possibly understand.”

    “Yes, my lord.”

    “Who, then, does she crave?”

    “The one c-called Ignacio.”

    The Greek's features creased into a smile. He chuckled to himself while his hand began stroking Iona's full and pointed breasts, their nipples going taut with excitement beneath his fingers. “Splendid!” he said softly. “Now I shall see if the lad is capable of the loyalty needed for the little jaunt into the caverns of the sea!”

    “My lord?” whimpered Iona bewilderedly.

    “Nothing for you to worry your pretty head over sweet female! You have just replaced your mistress! A handmaiden will be assigned to you! You are now my very special favorite – and since you are no longer a virgin, there is no need for me to be gentle or restrain the lust that boils in my blood!”

    He rolled between her thighs with a growl of desire, roughly pushing his ramrod to her crotch and plunging it into the moistened pit between her velvety cuntlips-ignoring her cries as he fucked her in savage glee. Her feet waved erratically in the air as he attacked her with brutal pleasure – lunging at her with thrusts that sent his huge penis stabbing deeply into her body and withdrawing his organ until only its tip still impaled her, only to ram it inward again and again with increasing speed and force while he grunted and she gasped with the violence of the act.

    Having seen this many times before and knowing how it would end, curiosity prompted my departure and I returned to Maria's chamber to find out how Ignacio and the ex-mistress no longer in favor were getting along. As I made the arduous journey in a succession of well planned hops and leaps – there being no servants in the corridors at this late hour – I found myself wistfully wondering why human beings were so limited in their lust, and so unlimited in their scheming. It imbalanced their natures.

    They were resting again, having apparently just concluded another session of sucking each others' genitals until satiation had been reached. Maria lay now snuggled up to Ignacio, who stared at the high ceiling as he regained his breath.

    “Oh, that's so good!” she whispered. “But too much of it numbs my clitoris and I cannot enjoy being fucked-something I care not to risk even though you eat pussy better than any man who has ever put a tongue to my parts!”

    “I'm somewhat partial to the act, myself,” replied Ignacio. “Although I admit it pleasures me not as much as fucking – lacking the element of masterful drive and intensity toward the end.”

    She reached for his limp member, fondling it to excited hardness and stroking its erected length with a lightly clenched fist enclosing the throbbing penis as it expanded readily.

    “Then… fuck me!” she urged hoarsely. “With all the strength and fire and force you can muster – until I'm exhausted and pleading for you to stop or until your endurance gives out!”

    He rolled atop her, nuzzling his face into the satiny flesh of her throat, kissing her naked shoulders and breasts with increasing excitement while he inserted himself between her firm thighs and her hand guided his pulsating cock to the door – the soft wet door of rippling lips that nibbled devilishly like a weird mouth – of her cunt. Without warning she lurched, sending him upon his back while she assumed the upper position, grinning down at him.

    “Better yet!” she gasped. “I'll fuck you!”

    She lowered her body, slowly impaling herself upon the plum-shaped tip of his straining penis, allowing it to slip into her hole while the lips around it rippled in nibbling, sucking motions.

    “See my heated orifice greedily mouth your fine shaft! Se how the lips tighten about its hardness, nursing its girth! I'll wager you never stuck your sword in such a lively scabbard before, eh!”

    For reply, Ignacio thrust his hip upward – shoving his aching member deeper into the warm wetness that engulfed his rigidity – bringing the lust up from his heavy dangling balls and sending it rising steadily toward the tip of his organ now slithering sensually back and forth in her yielding prison of delightful sensation. She began riding up and down upon the full length of his trembling shaft and the lust rose faster toward the final explosion so near.

    “Wait a moment!” he begged. “Stop moving like that! I want to make this last longer!”

    “I can't!” she grunted, now rapidly bouncing her tight-lipped cunt up and down his expanding penis in a frenzied tempo. “I'm coming! I'm coming!”

    His juices erupted into her as she emitted a high, shuddering wail of pleasure and they strained at each other in the spasm that followed spasm of orgasms mutually reached and experienced with a madness of brief tension.

    No sooner had his climax subsided than Ignacio forced her upon her back – still held between her thighs since her legs yet clutched him firmly – and continued thrusting himself powerfully in and out of the nibbling lips that plucked and sucked at his member's roiling length.

    “Ooh… Ooh!” she grunted throatily. “Ooh… that's good! Don't stop it! Ooh… ooh… OOH! Faster now! That's it! Oh, don't stop that pace! I love the brutal feel of that rammer stabbing like th-that! Ooh… Ooh! God, you're getting bigger and harder with each lunge you -” Again her chatter dissolved into a bubbling flood of sounds and noises that were more animal than human. And she shrieked louder and louder this gibberish until she was wailing like any banshee – against the shouts of lustful joy and triumph Ignacio bellowed as his penis once more filled to the tip with rising juices that went shooting into her with spasmic force.

    Exhausted to a trembling weakness, they rolled apart and gasped for air for long moments until their breathing finally returned to normal. Then she propped herself up on an elbow, smirking down at him with pleased eyes.

    “Oh, I look forward to many more times in bed with you, wonderful lover!” she cooed lustfully. “Yes, I must have you many times more!”

    “Perhaps, my lady.”

    She frowned. “What do you mean 'perhaps'? You will obey orders or suffer terrible consequences! Don't you understand that?”

    He nodded, smiling faintly.

    “That's what I mean, my lady.”


    Oblivious of the grease dribbling into his beard, the Greek gnawed at the roasted leg of lamb he held in both hands as his strong white teeth ripped and tore at the succulent meat.

    “I understand,” he said between mouthfuls of lamb, “that you wish to make a report.”

    Ignacio nodded. “Yes, my lord. You ordered me to report any visitors that your – that the woman, Maria, might entertain.”

    “Yes?” The Greek grinned as he chewed vigorously.

    “I must report that she ordered me to visit her.” Sweat beaded Ignacio's face. “I must mention, too, sire, that you ordered me to obey any order she might give me. So I was obeying your orders when I obeyed her demands.”

    “Quite true.” The Greek tossed the half-eaten meat to the table. “You can relax and stop perspiring with fear. You are in no danger, having merely obeyed my original order and now dutifully reporting to me as instructed. Sit down.”

    Ignacio collapsed into a chair, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

    “Now,” said the Greek leaning forward. “While it may seem exceedingly vulgar of me, I should like to hear some indelicate detail that will prove to me that you are not lying.”

    “I'm not lying, my lord! She ordered me to sleep with her! That's the truth!”

    “Possibly. But what can you tell me about her that will dispel my doubts entirely? What lurid detail will you divulge that will convince me of her guilt? Surely an experience like that must have made some impression upon you, lad.”

    Ignacio thought hard. Then his face brightened.

    “There is one thing, my lord,” he said.

    “And that thing?”

    “Her cunt, sire! I've never seen a cunt behave as that one did! A veritable mouth of a cunt, my lord! Its lips were similar to the lips of any ordinary human mouth! Why, she could even make it produce kissing motions and sounds!”

    The Greek roared with appreciative laughter.

    “This is the God's own truth, my lord!” Ignacio protested. “And if you've ever -” His words died in his throat as he realized how bold the statement was that he had almost hurled at his master.

    “Marvelous!” laughed the Greek. “Truly marvelous, that you had the courage to mention that particular detail! Yes, I now believe you. Entirely. Because yes, that very detail is what enchanted me with the disloyal little bitch in the first place!”

    “Thank you, my lord.”

    “You've just passed a difficult test in coming to report to me. A test that proves I wasn't wrong in thinking that you might indeed be loyal enough to entrust with a highly important piece of work.” The Greek eyed Ignacio intently. Gesturing to the middle-aged male servant standing nearby who left the chamber immediately, he lowered his voice. “I am about to share the details of a plan so important that my entire empire – and much more in fact – depends upon your understanding, your alertness and your absolute secrecy in the matter.”

    “My mouth is sealed, my lord.”

    “It had better be. One careless word and you are as good as dead, lad. On the other hand, if you do exactly as you are told – I shall reward you handsomely. Your reward will exceed any of your wildest daydreams.”

    “I shall be mute, sire.”

    “Good. Then -” the Greek rose and went to a nearby cabinet from which he took a large map and returning to the table, swept the food and dishes noisily to the floor, spreading the map upon the table's top. “- I shall begin familiarizing you with a certain coastal area and some rather unique caves that are found there!”

    I listened with great interest as the Greek began explaining his plan. It seemed that he was planning to descend with Bullpole into a sea-cave that was located at the edge of the ocean and could be safely entered only at low-tide. Together, he and Bullpole would go down into the cavern via a strong rope-ladder. Ignacio would be stationed at the top of the ladder where it would be securely fastened to some rocks.

    Upon a signal of the shouted word “Now!” from the Greek, Ignacio would begin hauling up the ladder immediately. This required his strength since the Greek would be climbing the ladder while Ignacio was hoisting it, hand over hand. Lastly, Ignacio would help the Greek through the opening to the subterranean cavern and push a heavy boulder over that opening – blocking it.

    Twice the Greek slowly repeated the entire procedure, repeating it word for word and studying Ignacio's face. Then he requested Ignacio to recite the procedure which he did – flawlessly repeating it word-perfect to the Greek's pleased satisfaction.

    “Splendid, lad!” he said clapping Ignacio across the shoulderblades. “You understand what is expected of you perfectly! Just be sure you neither falter nor drop that ladder once I'm aboard it and climbing as swiftly as I can!”

    “I won't fail,” Ignacio assured him. “I'm strong enough to pull it up with you riding it, my lord.” “I'm sure you are.” “You can count upon me, sire.”

    “One last thing,” said the Greek. “During the voyage and right up to the moment when you are busily hoisting that ladder, you must act as though you still serve Bullpole. Do you understand? He must not suspect – not for a moment – that you are anything but totally loyal to him.”

    “I understand, my lord.”

    “Don't forget that point. Remembering it may be the difference between a life of pleasure and privileges with me or a nasty death at Bullpole's command!”

    Ignacio swallowed with difficulty, no doubt fully realizing the risk he was taking. “I – I shall be the soul of loyalty to Bullpole, to all appearances. But, sire, may I ask a question?”

    The Greek nodded.

    “What becomes of Bullpole after I close the opening and he is left in the sea-cavern below?'

    The Greek grinned delightedly. “A good question and one, I suppose, there is no harm in answering since I must trust you implicitly! Why, if the comely little Mermaid doesn't murder him, the rising tide will surely drown the fat stupid ox! There are no other openings to that cave!”

    Ignacio's eyes widened.

    “M-Mermaid, sire?”

    “In the dungeon at Athens I have an unbelievably beautiful, shapely and devastatingly desirable girl imprisoned. She is utterly, murderously mad. Out of her mind with hatred of all men. And she suffers the delusion that she's a Mermaid being kept from her natural habitat, the sea. In addition, she's stronger than any normal woman and being a genuine maniac – stronger than any man!”

    “Farewell, Bullpole, eh, my lord?” Ignacio's grin was far from pleasant.

    “Precisely, lad!”

    Several days later, we embarked upon a single ship destined to sail from Palma de Majorca to Athens. Besides a scanty crew to handle the ship and a number of innocent-eyed virgins to provide pleasure, there were only the Greek, Bullpole and Ignacio – with myself upon Ignacio's person – that wily and conniving fellow, the Greek, having somehow convinced Bullpole, during the days preceding our departure, that the venture was best accomplished with a minimum of people involved – and apparently managing to drum the notion through Bullpole's skull until he thought it was his own idea.

    The voyage was a periodically rough one with many storms and fearful seas, and a long, tedious one in the bargain. It might have been dreadfully dull had it not been for the gaggle of virgins aboard who, mercifully, provided the pleasure for which they had been brought.

    It was interesting to note the consistent manner in which the Greek kept Bullpole's avid lust alive for the promised Mermaid by smoothly comparing her immortal beauty to the lusciously curved and helpless virgins, as they were deflowered one by one in the orgiastic sessions shared by Bullpole and the Greek, with always the implied fact that none of these gentle, yielding creatures were as exciting or satisfying as the Mermaid.

    Bullpole was almost insane with a craving for the Mermaid before the voyage was half-completed. When he wasn't asleep, savagely raping still another terrified virgin or staring moodily ahead of the ship's bow with insatiable lust burning in his pale yellowish eyes – he talked of nothing except the legendary Mermaid awaiting his conquest of her passion and the sea's wealth. The Greek, of course, further inflamed Bullpole by assuring the lout that he was without a doubt the only man on earth who could possibly seduce the creature.

    Watching Bullpole deteriorate – day by day – was a fascinating experience. Imperceptibly, at first, then more obvious as time passed, his obsession about the Mermaid and the wealth of the seas took hold of him – all his accumulated caution and intelligence crumbling under the obsessive desire for unlimited riches and the pleasures of copulation with an immortal female.

    Then, one evening, when we were but a last day's sailing from Athens, the Greek consulted with a now feverish-eyed Bullpole.

    “Why not indulge ourselves with a little show?” he suggested pleasantly. “A trifling performance that may titillate our voyage-jaded sensibilities.”

    “How?” intoned Bullpole.

    “Oh, by simply turning all those deflowered virgins over to the crew – and enjoying the sight of hungry men having a feast of the flesh! Famished by weeks of enforced celibacy, discounting the therapeutic use of their fists, they should be quite anxious to have the use of lovely young girls – and I confess that I should indeed be delighted to view the rollicking orgy, having exhausted every other effort to amuse myself! What do you say to the notion, old friend?”

    “It sounds interesting.” Bullpole stared with slack jaw into space. “Go ahead, if you like. I prefer to sit here and prepare myself for that little Mermaid who is going to make me the richest man on earth!”

    “How touching!” There was the slightest hint of a jeering note in the Greek's tone. “Very well! I shall instruct the good captain to free his crew upon the girls!”

    Meeting Ignacio on deck, the Greek described his idea for entertainment. “Come to think about it, lad, you've not had much fun, either, have you?”

    “I – I was allowed to have that blonde, last week. The little plump one who was ill with the humors and kept fainting every hour. I fucked her almost to the moment she died, my lord. But I could use another girl!”

    “And so you shall have one!”

    After the Greek strolled off to discuss the matter with the ship's captain, Ignacio stared at his back, muttering: “It must be wonderfully fine to be free – and possess the power he and Bullpole demonstrate! It must be like being a god. If only I could taste that kind of power!”

    An hour later – having dispensed wine to the crew and girls who had been gathered on the deck – the Greek sat atop a hatch, gleefully watching the orgy slowly developing as the nervous wenches drank with the hot-eyed sailors. Ignacio had joined the festivities and was already possessively cuddled up to a dark-haired beauty, their backs to the side of the ship as they swilled the strong wine from the ship's stores.

    Then a girl screamed as her companion ripped the clothing from her shapely body, chasing her the length of the deck before he caught her, hurling himself upon her and greedily burying his face in her firm young breasts.

    This outburst set off others, and soon the deck was a noisy melee of violent lovemaking and chases. Girls were forced to open their legs where they were cornered. Others had to be pursued below decks before being trapped in a cozy corner, their clothing torn from their toothsomely curved flesh and their thighs forced open to admit the hard, throbbing members of the male sailors as rape after rape took place everywhere.

    Since there were about as many girls as there were crewmen, it was just a matter of time before each girl had been forced to submit to several of the sailors – and before the entire affair ended in what amounted to mass exhaustion, it was likely that every sailor had sampled to his hilt every one of the girls – their normal endurance lengthened by their recent celibacies and spurred on to even greater records by the wine, the number of girls at hand and the atmosphere of total freedom.

    Amidst the din of laughing men and crying, shrieking females, the Greek perched on the hatch-cover – his devilish features contorted with fiendish enjoyment of the savage sensualities happening around him continuously.

    Ignacio staggered by, a nude redhead slung over his shoulder. Like most of the others, he was stark naked by now – and very drunk.

    “Ho, Ignacio!” cried the Greek, lifting his wine in the gesture of a toast. “Having a fine time?”

    “The finest, m'lord!” mumbled Ignacio.

    “That's a plump piece of smooth-skinned baggage you have there!”

    “Would you like her, m'lord?”

    “Oh, no! You go right ahead. Don't let me interfere with your fun, lad! After all, there are others as yet unacquainted with your brave weapon!”

    Nodding drunkenly, Ignacio stumbled to the railing, dumped the semi-dazed girl upon the deck and piggishly forced himself between her legs – taking her with swinish gruntings of pleasure as his penis slid into a tight cunt already brimming with the sticky juices of a half-dozen sailors who had filled it earlier. Hardly had he doubled up in the spasms of orgasm than he was pushing her away, swilling a few mouthfuls of wine and looking about for still another girl to take.

    Hour after hour the orgy continued, the pace and noise of it gradually subsiding into a steady murmur of carnal activity. Soddened by drink and stunned by the initial onslaughts upon their persons, now the girls willingly submitted to each man that pulled her down and made love to her, all of them showing slutty signs of actually enjoying themselves.

    And the Greek sat, sipping wine, his chin resting in the palm of a hand with his elbow propped upon his knee – watching the tired couplings with avid enjoyment and seemingly never wearying of the sight of men and women copulating in a variety of positions. He seemed to especially appreciate the more exotic minded couples – those mouthing each others' private parts or mounting one another in seemingly impossible positions but which produced eventual climaxes that in turn affected cries of pleasure and animalistic sounds of satisfaction.

    Meanwhile, the ship had literally come to a stop, wallowing in the troughs of a quietly rolling sea while the crew – and the goaty old captain, too, hungrily nursing upon the small hard tits of an unspeakably drunken brunette, lying nearly unconscious beside him while he fitfully pumped and thrust his body between the languidly opened legs of another brunette into whose pit he stoutly drove his ancient rammer with deliberate strokes-finished their orgiastic duties in a rapidly decreasing mood of excitement and lustful vitality.

    Total quietude eventually descended upon the ship. Sailors and girls slumbered soundly wherever they completed their last copulation, clumsily lying atop one another or strewn hither and yon about the deck. A symphony of snoring softly sang into the cool night air over the gentle slapping of the peaceful seas against the hull.

    Stiffly, the Greek got down from the hatch-cover, yawning mightily and stretching his aching limbs, and carefully making his way toward his cabin, he stopped momentarily when he found a sleeping Ignacio sprawled nakedly between two nasally snoring young women whose satiny flesh was darkened with bruises and stained with dried wine.

    “Sleep well, my young friend!” chuckled the Greek. “I'll need all your strength on the morrow when we send Bullpole to his final seduction! Naturally, I'll have to rid myself of you since you know too much – and I cannot afford slaves who know too much!”

    Proceeding to his quarters, he undressed – after locking the cabin-door – and lay for a long time before sleep tickled at the edges of his consciousness. I – having boarded him, preferring his blood to others' – patiently awaited his lapsing into a deep sleep, knowing I would be less likely interrupted during my repast were he dreaming.

    “I wonder if that treacherous old bastard of a seer recognized his last-minute symptoms as being caused by the same traceless poison he once invented for my use on enemies?” The Greek mused aloud. “Well, I rather hope he did since I never faced him with his own disloyalty!”

    And then he drifted into sleep, smiling.

    Making it into port with a bleary-eyed, worn crew barely able to dock the ship, we disembarked and went by carriage to a fortress huddled high above the city. This was the Greek's palatial residence. Constructed of pure marble and easily as large as Bullpole's castle in Spain, it was well guarded and gorgeously furnished with strangely designed chairs, tables and couches – the walls covered with intricate tapestries and misty oil paintings, most of them depicting bawdy scenes of sensual delights.

    Bullpole silently followed the Greek as he led him and Ignacio through the buildings on a tour that took almost two hours just to go through the main buildings, leaving many of the multi-level wings and offshoots un-visited. Bullpole viewed everything with the abstracted air of a man who isn't truly seeing what he is shown. His mind was obviously elsewhere – deep within a cavern, I assumed, judging from the all-encompassing obsession he had developed aboard ship.

    Returning to a large cool chamber where silent-footed servants swiftly served wines and fruits, the Greek smiled at his guests. “Well, you've seen some of my little retreat,” he said amiably. “Time for the rest of it when you're rested.”

    “When do we go to the sea-caves?” demanded Bullpole, thirstily quaffing a huge golden goblet of wine. “I want to get on with the main business that brought me here.”

    “After you've rested.”

    “I'm rested now.”

    “Well, soon.” The Greek stared stubbornly at his longtime competitor. “I have – uh – there are a number of preparations that must be made for the journey, brief as it actually will be.”

    “What sort of preparations?” Bullpole threw a surly glance over the jewel-encrusted brim of his goblet. “Be specific!”

    Anger flushed the Greek's satanic features but he Visibly controlled himself, his tense face relaxing into a mild smile of patience. “Ah, now, old friend. I shall not bore you with a plethora of practical details and dull trivia when you are so weary from a long voyage!”

    “I told you – I'm rested.”

    The Greek laughed good-naturedly. “So you did! But must I be so crass as to remind you that we are now in my empire – and here I am the dictator of events and affairs, and the procedures which bring them to pass? I simply suggest you enjoy the humble suites that have been readied for your use. And let me know instantly if the little… ah… creatures waiting there for your virile presence are not to your liking in every way possible!”

    “I get your point,” mumbled Bullpole gruffly, and he allowed an attendant to lead him away, his face dark with frustration. “For now I must be the cooperative guest. But once I've -” His words faded into an incoherent murmuring of discontent.

    Deftly, I leaped to Ignacio's muscular frame as he passed the smiling Greek, an exchange of glances between them indicating that all was going well; and I marveled that this cold-natured Greek could smile so warmly at one he planned to destroy after having assured him that his future was safe and secure because he had been tested for ultimate loyalty, and has passed that test satisfactorily. The degree of viciousness in human nature never fails to startle me, no matter how often I see it displayed. Hence, I left the Greek's person with a definite sense of relief which must not be construed as mere emotional judgement. I'm not, as a humble flea, burdened with that kind of emotional reaction: I simply know in an instinctive fashion where the greatest danger to my own existence lies – and that intuitive alarm was strongest upon the persons of the Greek and Bullpole to my bewilderment, considering the power each wielded most ruthlessly.

    Upon reaching the apartments reserved for them, Bullpole turned to Ignacio. “In the interest of privacy, I decided to leave my personal bodyguards in Spain. I brought you along to serve in precisely that capacity since you are known to be loyal, alert and physically strong. I shall depend upon you to be fully responsible for my safety – particularly when I'm asleep.”

    Ignacio bowed. “Yes, sire.”

    “I trust not our host. Nor should you. We are Spaniards far from our native ground and in an alien place where anything might happen.”

    “I'll remember that every moment, sire.”

    “See that you do.” Bullpole entered his chamber, the door closing behind him with a solid click. Ignacio stood a moment with a thoughtful expression, then he, too, went into his chamber.

    The room was luxuriously furnished in the same exotic styling as the rest of the palace. In its center was a low wide sleeping-couch, the table beside it containing a platter upon which a variety of cheeses, olives, slabs of crusty bread and an assortment of fruits were heaped.

    A girl with long black, glossy hair and huge dark eyes lay upon the couch, her nakedness a satiny swelling and curving of white flesh from the gentle lines of her shoulders and generously moulded breasts to her well-shaped legs and tiny feet. She gazed up at Ignacio with an expression of submission.

    “Well, the Greek wasn't jesting,” remarked Ignacio, sitting on the edge of the couch and smiling at the girl. “Everything for a guest's comfort and pleasure. I'm coming up in the world when my room is supplied with beauty such as yours.”

    She sighed, tremblingly.

    “Have you no tongue?” His hand touched her soft warm flesh, began caressing her rounded belly just above the crisp thicket of pubic hair. “Have you no words of greeting for a guest?”

    She murmured something in Greek, the sound of the foreign words a whispery gibberish to Ignacio's ears. Her tone clearly implied her resignation and hopelessness as did the sad expression in her huge, widely spaced eyes.

    “Ah, well,” murmured Ignacio, undressing. “We shall not allow language to be a barrier when we can breach it with the oldest communication known to man and woman, pretty one!”

    She studied his exposed penis – erect with the excitement that her nudity created within him – with nervous interest. Her nostrils flared with reaction to the sight of the long upright shaft of rigid muscle tipped by the reddish-blue plum that pulsed slightly with the tension Ignacio felt. A tremor of quivering went over the girl's entire body when he rolled over, lying beside her and feeling her warmth and firm softness touching his own muscular frame. She gasped, moaning throatily when his hands fondled her breasts, toying the large nipples into tautness. She twitched and groaned when his fingers sought her pubic mound, caressing the tender lips of her crevice, parting them and exploring their depths until her juices flowed copiously – indicating her sexual readiness.

    For a short while Ignacio lay upon her belly, idly sucking at her melon-ish breasts and pressing his stiffened member up and down, inserting it between the moistened lips of her slit and letting the lust simmer in his balls that now ached with bursting need for release. She cried out as he shifted position – shoving his hardened penis into her yielding hole, the head sinking into its warm wetness. Grunting, he thrust the entire length of his column deeply within her tight pit and she wrapped her legs about his waist, panting as he began steadily ramming his throbbing stiffness in and almost out of her cunt. Saliva dribbled from a corner of her mouth, her eyes glazed with enjoyment and she grunted softly with each inward thrust of his penis – and thus they fucked in a quiet, straining rhythm until, abruptly, the wildness of orgasm was upon them and they launched themselves into a noisy frenzy of motion, erratically moving with abandon and savage intensity – the girl clawing and biting at him – until the climax had been reached and the spasms juicily exhausted them both.

    They fell asleep, still entangled in each others' arms and legs, in the position of copulation.


    Three days later, the first light of morning was fading the night sky when Ignacio was rudely awakened by a husky young man his own age who wore the trappings and insignia of the Greek's personal guards. Harshly shaking Ignacio's bare shoulder, the fellow grinned down as Ignacio groggily opened his eyes and peered sleepily up at the stranger.

    “Arise!” said the man. “I'm sent to awaken you! It's time to leave for the sea-caves!”

    Ignacio sat up, yawning and rubbing his face. During the past three days and nights, while waiting for the Greek to announce their departure to the sea-caves, he had glutted himself unstintingly with rich foods, wines and a number of passionate young wenches – all of whom, like the newest girl still gently snoring beside him, had helped considerably to pass the time.

    “Who – who are you?” Ignacio asked thickly.

    “Socrates Uthimus – most trusted of my master's personal guards. I'm to accompany you gentlemen on the trek to the sea-caves by order of my master.” He nodded at the naked girl whose tempting curves of flawless flesh graced the couch in unconscious wantonry. “By the blazing eyes of the gods, I hate to pull you from the comforting side of that little slut, but I'm ordered to collect you! I don't envy you having to interrupt dalliance with the pretty thing. Don't bear a grudge against me for being the one to summon you!”

    “I won't,” mumbled Ignacio putting on his clothing. “Anyway, I'm getting weary of this room! It'll be good to travel and see someplace else.”

    “You jest!” The cheerful grin on Socrates' face broadened. “How can anybody tire of such stimulating company? I cannot even imagine such -” He stopped talking, eyeing the sleeping girl hungrily.

    “Go ahead – if we have the time,” offered Ignacio smiling at him. “You look as though you could use a quick tumble!”

    “I – I could! I haven't had a woman in more than a week of heavy duty!” Socrates' face went dreamy with lust as he studied the vulnerable nudity of the girl. She stirred, turning onto her back and raising one leg, exposing the intimate beauty of her slitted mound nestled in the curly dark thatch of hair between her thighs. “If I thought you were serious and there would be no trouble, I'd -”

    “I'm serious, friend.” Ignacio sat down at the table, began munching hungrily at the remains of meat, cheese and bread – washing the food down with wine from a tall, slender bottle. “Go ahead and have her! But don't take all morning unless you want to be caught in the delightful act by our superiors!”

    With a last glance at Ignacio, Socrates swiftly divested himself of the lower garments of his attire, exposing a most ready and respectably large penis standing rigidly out from his hairy loins. Climbing onto the couch, he crept between the sleeping girl's thighs, lowering his body to her crotch and roughly probing for her cunt-hole as he guided his stiffened organ with one hand.

    She opened her eyes just as the tip of his organ found the yielding entrance and went plunging into her moist warmth – vainly squirming in an effort to prevent what had already happened. Grunting angry protests, she struggled beneath him as he thrust the male member in and out with vigorous strokes and mumbling sounds of enjoyment – firmly holding her wrists with his hands while his undulating body ravished her private parts in a steady performance of sexual activity.

    “You surely did need that attention,” observed Ignacio affably between mouthfuls of food and drink. “I can tell from the manner in which you energetically fuck the pretty thing that your need is considerable. Well, she's a tight little baggage and you should find her most satisfying – unless you're a great deal harder to please than myself!”

    Now the girl had stopped struggling and lay still, her legs lifted high on either side of the thrusting, panting Socrates. She glared up at him with rage and contempt on her face. Once, she spat directly in his face but he was too intent upon his increasing pleasure to pay attention to the insult, simply driving faster and harder with savage enjoyment – and then groaning hoarsely as his juices burst into her with spasms that shook his muscular body until they subsided, leaving him slumped upon the girl with a blissful expression of complete satisfaction on his face.

    “By the cornucopian cunt of Venus!” Socrates declared, rising from the couch and wiping his greasy, glistening prick on the covers. “That was a most gratifying fuck indeed! I shan't forget this kindness, friend. I owe you for it – perhaps more than you realize. It's particularly difficult for a fellow of my heat to find daily life bearable sans a decent fucking! I can do without food and drink easily enough for long periods of time, but I damn near perish when I must do without the necessity of a woman! Raping my fist has never eased the tensions worth a boar's fart, either!”

    “I know the feeling.” Ignacio stood up and picked at his teeth with a finger. “We better join the others quickly now, friend Socrates. They'll be getting impatient. Especially Bullpole who has been raging with impatience these past three days.”

    “I'm ready.” Fastening his garments into place, Socrates led the way out of the chamber with Ignacio following, the muttered curses of the girl fading behind them as they departed.

    Bullpole and the Greek were already mounted upon small sturdy horses. Two more such beasts awaited Ignacio and Socrates who silently and swiftly put themselves into the empty saddles.

    “What took so long?” demanded Bullpole in a surly tone, glaring at Ignacio. “We've been waiting for hours, you miserable rabble!”

    “I was difficult to awaken,” Ignacio lied.

    Bullpole swung his fist, the impact of the smashing blow unseating Ignacio and sending him hurtling from the horse to the ground where he sprawled in stunned disorder.

    “Enough, enough, old friend!” intoned the Greek calmly. “Let us be on our way!”

    Ignacio remounted without a word or a glance at the others, and soon they were riding out of the still sleeping city – the only sound being that of the horses' hooves clattering upon the paved streets. A short while later they reached open country and the pace was increased from a steady trotting to an easy, distance-consuming canter. Bullpole rode abreast of the Greek. Ignacio beside Socrates to the rear of their masters. From time to time, Socrates grinned appreciatively and Ignacio replied to each grin with a roguish wink.

    Thusly, they followed a winding road that led to the edge of the sea and down many twisting turns toward the rocky ledges where the fabled sea-cave awaited their invasion of its interior.

    Now dismounted, they stood a few yards from the narrow entrance that gaped in the nearby stone cliff, Socrates holding the reins of all four horses and facing the Greek with stiff attentiveness.

    “You will await us, here,” ordered the Greek quietly. “You know what to do upon our return?”

    Socrates nodded, his eyes troubled.

    “Meanwhile, keep a lookout for any travelers that may approach. It's unlikely that any will-this place being so feared by our people-but you stay on the alert, anyway.” Turning to Bullpole and Ignacio, the latter holding the coiled rope-ladder over his shoulder, the Greek put his finger warningly to his lips.

    “From this point,” he said in a low voice, “it would be wise to keep our voices as quiet as possible! And do as little talking as necessary. She has sharp ears, that immortal one! The success of this brave experience will hang entirely upon our making an almost silent approach.”

    “Understood,” grunted Bullpole. His eyes searched the cliff impatiently, feverishly. “Let's be about this business without further delay!”

    Walking swiftly and silently, they approached the narrow opening. Entering it, they found themselves within a fairly spacious cavern. The Greek continued toward the depths of this chamber, now moving even more silently and cautiously than ever before until he stopped at a small crevice in the slime-covered, dripping wall. It was large enough for a man to go through. Gesturing for Ignacio to affix the end of the rope-ladder to the protruding and jagged outcroppings of rock at the base of the opening, the Greek waited until Ignacio had done so. Then he tested the ladder, yanking at it several times until he seemed satisfied with its reliability. Squatting, he slowly fed the ladder through the opening – peering with narrowed eyes as it descended until its entire length hung down into the cavern below, the end of the ladder barely touching a broad, rocky ledge still dotted with inch-deep pools of sea-water from the last high-tide that rose far above it. Now the seawater had receded until it glittered and surged a few feet below the ledge. Rising to his feet, the Greek stared at Bullpole, smiling intently.

    “Shall I go first, old friend?” he whispered. “To prove my concern and willingness to share the danger with you?”

    Bullpole nodded.

    Carefully, the Greek lowered his body, feet-first, through the opening as he began climbing down the swaying rope-ladder. When he had vanished from sight, Bullpole did the same – descending immediately after the Greek and leaving Ignacio squatting at the opening, watching both men as they silently went down the ladder and reached the ledge where they stood, peering into the greenish light of the dimly lit sea-cavern with expressions of tense expectancy.

    Then, the Greek raised his arm and silently pointed to a figure sitting with its back to them. The back was beautiful in its nakedness – the back of a lovely woman with long, wavy golden hair streaming down over the ivory flesh. Now a weird humming could be faintly heard echoing through the dank cavern. She was singing quietly to herself, the rise and fall of her strange song almost surging in time to the rise and ebbing of the murky green water swirling and splashing beside the mollusk encrusted ledge.

    Stealthily, Bullpole started toward the unsuspecting woman – his great arms outstretched to embrace her in a closing of his arms around her shoulders – a shout of triumph ringing hollowly through the cavern.

    “I've – I've got her!” he bellowed thunderously.

    Suddenly, he stiffened as she whirled – her maddened and contorted face a mask of hatred and fury as she made an abrupt motion that was blocked from our sight by Bullpole's hulking body which doubled up as he gave a sharp cry of pain – toppling sideways and plunging into the water with an immense splash as his heavy body went under the surface for a moment, rising again to float face-up.

    Tiny sparkling glints of light gleamed from the metal handle of the dagger which she had thrust into his fat belly to the hilt, blood cascading around the dagger and thickly flowing over his girth to the water where it spread in a veil of crimson.

    The woman crouched with insane eyes glowing wildly, howling most horribly. Her raucous laughter deafening filled the cavern. Bullpole's face was frozen in a death of surprised anguish as he floated lifelessly beside the ledge.

    The Greek whirled, leaped for the rope-ladder and started up it with the agility of a frightened monkey, yelling: “Now! Now pull me up!” He clambered swiftly and was halfway up the ladder's length by the time Ignacio – moving as though he had already planned each motion – whipped out a knife and began slicing powerfully at the rope-ends anchoring the ladder to the rocks.

    They parted – dropping the Greek and the tangling ladder to the ledge. His head hit with a dull thud and his body sprawled awkwardly upon the rocky surface – inert with instant unconsciousness. He had made not the slightest sound.

    Ignacio peered down, breathing heavily. The madwoman stared up at him, her gaunt face empty of all sanity, all comprehension. Then he noticed the water was churning and boiling as a surge of tide lifted it to the ledge.

    “He'll be drowned within the hour!” Ignacio muttered. “Both of the bastards will be dead by then! I'm – I'm free! I'm my own man!”

    Shaking his head as though to clear his senses, he looked about until he spied a large boulder nearby. Grunting, he pushed and shoved it – manhandling it with great effort until he had rolled it over the narrow opening – sealing off the deathly scene far below. Now the mad creature's babbling could no longer be heard shrilly echoing. Wiping his sweaty face with the back of his sleeved-arm, Ignacio left the chamber and emerged stumblingly into the bright sunlight. Pausing for a moment to compose himself, he stared at the distant figure beside the horses.

    Then he started forward.

    “Dead!” Socrates' face mirrored incredulity.

    “Both of them – dead,” said Ignacio evenly. “I jest not, friend. Our masters are no more.”

    “B-But how?”

    Taking a deep breath, Ignacio told him the simple truth, watching various emotions – ranging from stunned disbelief to undeniable fear – cross the other's features as he gave a factual account of what had taken place in the cavern.

    There followed a long moment of silence.

    “I'm not sorry,” Ignacio said quietly. “They were treacherous, cruel masters. Neither really knew the meaning of true loyalty. Of that I'm as sure as I am of the sun rising tomorrow.”

    Socrates nodded, his face still somber. “Yes, you're right friend. But how are we to explain all this? What do we do next?”

    “I've thought that out. Just as I've thought out many aspects of my life. We merely return, stating that the Mermaid destroyed them both. Your people are sufficiently superstitious to accept the story, aren't they?”

    “Most of them. Those who may doubt it are in a minority. Yes, the story will hold true in the minds of many who hear it.”

    “All right. Then, I shall claim to be Bullpole's natural son – and I shall grieve for my lost father. After all, I arrived here attending him. It figures that I was close to the ruthless monster.” Ignacio grinned. “Do you see that you and I can easily assume their power and possessions?”

    “Us – replace them?” incredulity again oozed onto Socrates' face. “Y-You're mad, friend!”

    “Not truly. Wouldn't you like to have the freedom and power that they had?”

    “Of course!”

    “Then be courageous enough to help me see this scheme through – and you shall replace your master! I want not any portion of his holdings. Bullpole's empire is plenty for my greed. And I long for the sights and sounds of Spain. But I'll need you in the position of power before I can leave here – unless I were willing to sneak to sea like a dog! Which I'm not.”

    “What do you suggest?”

    “First, that you slay any of the guards who were here when you put that madwoman in the cavern by the Greek's orders. Neither of us can afford to have them live – perhaps spreading the truth about a mere crazed creature baited for a Mermaid as part of a murderous plot.”

    Socrates nodded. “True enough. Getting rid of the three who accompanied me when I brought the repulsive wench here won't be difficult. I'll slay them after they're far gone in wine. It can be done quickly and quietly. The palace is rampant with mysterious killings constantly.”

    Ignacio squinted thoughtfully. “Fine. Next, is there a skilled forger available to us? One who can duplicate any handwriting?”

    “I know of one so accomplished who is imprisoned in the dungeons.”

    “Then on the promise of his freedom, you will have him forge the Greek's handwriting. I shall dictate the statement. It will be nothing less than a letter informing all that you are to run things in the event of his untimely end.”

    “What if the forger should talk?”

    “Dead men can't speak. He will be slain when the document is safely finished and in our hands.”

    Socrates smirked wryly. “We seem to be planning the deaths of many men, friend. Which makes you and I dismally similar to our recent masters.”

    Ignacio shrugged. “Would you rather remain a guardsman, perhaps in slavery to an even worse tyrant than the one you depended upon for your life before he lost his own miserable existence?”


    “Wouldn't you prefer to be a master? To have leisure time for sensual pleasures – including all the girls you want – and never take another order as long as you live?”

    “Gods of Mount Olympus – yes.'”

    “Then, friend, stop moralizing and listen to my plan as I detail it to you. Every step must be carefully executed if we are to have what lies easily within our grasp.” Ignacio took reins from the other's hands, mounting a horse. “Come along. We must return sometime. I'll explain everything while we ride. By the time we reach the palace, you'll have it entirely memorized.”

    “Did you have any idea of your fate?” asked Socrates with a sad smile. “I mean, after you had helped Zorba murder Bullpole?”

    “I was promised rewards.”

    Climbing upon a horse, Socrates withdrew a sharp-bladed knife and held it before Ignacio's eyes. It glinted and sparkled in the sunlight with deadly beauty. “Well, friend, this was to be your reward,” Socrates said grimly. “I was under orders to bury it in your back the moment an opportunity presented itself to kill you. I have no doubt that he planned to rid himself of me and the others who brought the madwoman to the sea-cave – so I guess their deaths won't make that much difference.”

    “Not if you truly want to be master of this empire the Greek built. All I want is to return to my homeland. Perhaps we can stay in touch. Be friends over the years.”

    “Better ones than they were, I trust!” Socrates grinned wryly.

    “I'll drink to that when we're near wine!”

    “A favor, my friend?”

    Ignacio smiled. “Of course, friend!”

    “Please desist from referring to my deceased master as 'the Greek.'”

    “Why so?”

    “Because I, too, am a Greek, friend!”

    Laughing self-consciously, with just a tinge of resentment beneath their laughter, they spurred their steeds into a full gallop and began riding back in the direction of the palace.

    For brevity's sweet sake, I'll delete much of the time that passed and the confusion that accompanied it when Ignacio and Socrates returned to the palace, bearing the news of their masters' deaths. There were those who were saddened, oddly enough; those who accepted the story with thoughtful silence and expressionless faces, and those who were visibly gladdened by it.

    Hinting that a document was being sought among Zorba's private papers – a will that would give his lasting orders, Socrates and Ignacio went ahead with their daring plan. Guardsmen were murdered into silence, as was the frail little forger once his counterfeited work of art had been completed. Showing the deceptive will to those who had been closest – in the loosest sense of that term – to their master, Socrates found grudging obedience among the residents of the palace. There were a few who protested, and some who even attempted an uprising – which was quickly put down and its perpetrators publicly executed in a most horrible manner, being torn apart by wild bulls before a fascinated crowd of thousands who cheered and ate tidbits as they avidly viewed the punishment meted out to troublemakers.

    Day by day, little by little, with constant alertness and attention to detail – checking every rumor and mercilessly killing all opponents – Socrates took over the power his master had possessed. By the time a month had elapsed, he was as much the master of Zorba's empire as that bearded schemer had ever been. Naturally, he realized – and often admitted as much with seemingly charming gratitude – that he could never have brought the change-over about without the help of his Spanish friend, Ignacio.

    As might be expected, Ignacio's proclamation to the effect that he was none other than the natural son of Bullpole was accepted almost totally by those in the palace since they had little reason of suspecting otherwise and on way of disproving his heritage, even among those skeptics whose innately jaundiced eyes regarded the whole matter as nothing more than smoothly timed skullduggery.

    Messages sent by fleet vessels across the Aegean seas to all the Grecian isles where subordinates received the news of their now entrenched young master, soon returned bearing replies that business was splendid and would indeed continue as always, various percentages and profit-sharing arrangements not being affected by the new administration as represented in the haughty person of Socrates who had begun acting like the master he was.

    Ships bringing fresh cargoes of abducted young women – innocent-faced country girls who had been lured away or bodily carried off from their home villages-resumed docking, and Socrates was up to his sprouting beard in paperwork and endless conferences that dealt with the rerouting of these hapless virgins – barring a few selected for his own enjoyment – to distant places, there to be delivered into the hands of lecherous collectors or whoremongers who would pay handsomely for such tenderly curved, firmly fleshed creatures. And so it continued, week after week, with girls arriving and girls departing; gold arriving and being stored in the massive vaults beneath the palace – and in the center of all this activity, a gradually hardening Socrates who gave every sign of thrilling to his own immense power and prestige.

    Meanwhile, Ignacio had been in communication with the Bullpole empire on Palma de Majorca and had successfully convinced those left in charge that he was indeed the rightful inheritor of his alleged father's holdings. At least, there was no word of dispute or rioting, or any form of difficulty that might forbade his return to there as the recognized master of that palace and all it symbolized in wealth and power.

    Never having been quite so privy to this much grand intrigue, involving so many riches and such extensive power, I – being still clearly aware of mine own unimportant station in life – was quite impressed by all the hustle, bustle, sound and furor. It was exciting. I suppose it's always rather pleasant being safely on the side (even if it's only the soft and exceedingly bite-able backside) of genuine winners such as Socrates and Ignacio now indubitably were.

    Then came the evening when I was irritably sitting atop a shelf while Ignacio diligently (ugh!) bathed himself with the assistance of several lovely attendants, giggling as they handled his hard and throbbing penis, cooing with feigned awe as they provocatively soaped and rinsed his mammoth pair of brownish-skinned balls, and he lounged idly in the perfumed water as he enjoyed their ministrations which were surely as sensual as they were cleansing.

    Without warning, Socrates stalked imperiously into the chamber. With a terse gesture he sent every attendant fleeing from the room. Grinning at Ignacio, he sat down beside the sunken pool of scented water.

    “Excuse this intrusion, friend, but I've been smitten with a notion that rather excites me – and I want to include you in the enjoyment of it!” he said laughingly. “I'm getting bored by the mood of this palace. I need a few hours away from it and its stifling luxury.”

    “I understand,” replied Ignacio. “My own peasant's blood is oftimes curdled by such a steady diet of rich foods, the oppressive atmosphere of servile people and the unchallenging prospect of having even the most delectable wench by simply curling my finger beckoningly.”

    “Well, splendid!” exclaimed Socrates slapping his knee. “Then you'll not deem me too coarse for craving a different style of recreation – perhaps in celebration of your forthcoming voyage back to sunny Spain!”

    “Not at all. What have you in mind, friend?”

    “Not the usual palace orgy, I assure you! But rather a simple romp in a small village where we can take what we like – rudely and to our lustful hearts' content! I've earmarked such a village. It lies but an hour's ride from here!”

    “Mmmm, sounds refreshing as hell, friend! Yes, I must congratulate you for the imagination shown in such a lively scheme!”

    “Get some real rest, then,” chortled Socrates, winking. “You'll need every drop of your manly juice tomorrow night when we assault the village and the tidbits we choose there!” He rose, swiftly leaving the room, still chuckling to himself.

    The sly-eyed little attendants drifted back to the pool, softly chittering among themselves as they wondered which of them would serve their master's guest's lusty appetites in bed that night.

    “Out!” shouted Ignacio. “All of you little sluts – out at once! Begone, vile temptresses!”

    “B-But, sire, we th-thought you w-would -” began one bold little baggage beguilingly.

    “This night,” he said firmly, “I sleep alone!”


    Standing together under a velvety black sky spattered with glittering stars, each of them clutching a wine bottle, Socrates and Ignacio studied the sleeping village with its deserted narrow streets and buildings with darkened windows. A short distance away, guardsmen – brought along as protection against any heroic villagers who might attempt to interfere with the planned frolic – sat their mounts patiently.

    “It's not much of a place,” Ignacio said tipsily, gulping at his bottle. “It looks exactly like the wide place in a cowpath that I was born and raised in! Just a country village!”

    “Ah, but this particular village is very special to me, friend!” said Socrates in slurred accents.

    “You were born here?”

    Socrates shook his head. “No, but I once craved a lovely creature who was born here, and who lives here still to my knowledge! Ah, but won't she be surprised to see me!”

    “She probably will,” belched Ignacio.

    “So will her good husband, I wager!” Socrates chuckled lewdly. “I must remember to ask the lout if she was a virgin!”

    “You didn't find out for yourself?”

    “I merely craved her, friend. And she was too disdainful of a poor young man who had no future or funds.” He guzzled at length from his bottle, hurling the now empty container into the darkness. “Well, by the bulging bellybutton of fair Diana!” he swore laughingly. “Tonight I'll have some sport with that proud little bitch that shall erase my longstanding humiliation!”

    “I sense vengeance,” observed Ignacio.

    “You have very good sense, friend! Come along. The hut we seek is right over there and I see a light in the window!”

    Stumbling over the stony ground, they lurched to the whitewashed hut made of carefully fitted and cemented rocks. Flinging open the crude door, they marched into the large room. The only cringing occupants were an ancient crone who buried her lined and toothless face in splotchy hands, a harsh-faced matron with stout figure and graying hair who clutched two young boys to her skirts protectively and a mongrel dog that vanished beneath a table with a muted whimper. Then the matronly woman's face showed an expression of recognition.

    “Socrates!” she gasped.

    Drunkenly, he bowed – almost falling upon his face had not Ignacio caught him, holding him up until he had regained balance.

    “The very same, my dear!” said Socrates. “How nice to find you at home. But where is your good husband? Not swilling wine at the tavern, I trust, leaving you here unprotected?”

    “I'm – I'm a widow!” she said hoarsely, her eyes flickering to the stairs nearby that led to a hayloft. “I've heard that you -”

    “My, but you've aged with marriage and child-bearing, sweet one of my youth! Yes, indeed! You've become a mere shell of yourself. Well on your way to hag-hood like your witchy old mother there!”

    “Pi-Please, S-Socrates -”

    A motion at the top of the stairs caught their eyes and when the young girl descended partway, lust gleamed hotly in Socrates' face as he stared at the firmly rounding figure that was still in the process of developing into full womanhood – her small breasts pressing against her thin dress in hard little points, her hips still slender with extreme youth. I judged her to be about thirteen – albeit a tempting thirteen for all of her immaturity. She was a beautiful young thing and possessed just enough shape to proclaim her desirable. Socrates licked his newly bearded lips as he stared hotly at the girl who hesitated on the stairs.

    “Go back, Adonisa!” cried the matron. “Go back upstairs to your bed!”

    “Adonisa, eh?” Socrates belched loudly, heading for the stairs as the frightened girl retreated up them with terror on her pretty face. “Well, I must know little Adonisa much better – being an old friend of her mother's! Perhaps I shall tuck the toothsome creature into her bed!”

    Heavily, he clumped up the stairs.

    “Pi-Please don't molest her!” pleaded the matron, rushing forward and clinging to Socrates as he made his way with effort up the staircase. “She's only a child! Just a mere child! Take me, Socrates! Take me, instead! I'll do anything you say if you'll only leave her alone and -”

    Grunting, Socrates turned and shoved the distraught matron with his booted foot – sending her wildly flailing and tumbling down the stairs. Glaring down at where she lay sprawled, weeping noisily, he gave an evil burst of laughter.

    “I no longer want you! You're too fat and worn! You are ugly and repulsive! I'll take pretty little Adonisa, instead! She's young and tender and most exciting! And everything I teach her will be new to the innocent little darling!” His glowing eyes swung to Ignacio. “Friend, you better come up and watch this little event! One of those stupid old peasants might take it into their head to ram a pitchfork into my gut! We'll find you a nice piece of female flesh when I'm through here shortly!”

    Ignacio nodded, ascending the stairs and following as far as the doorway to the loft. Below, the matron wailed bitterly to the accompanied sounds of her son's bawling and the dog's yipping.

    Socrates staggered into the loft. At the far end of the beamed room, huddled with her face pressed against the wall, crouched the young girl. She looked up – - paralyzed with the terror spread across her fine features – as Socrates approached her, trembling uncontrollably, his lust overpowering now.

    “Hello, you pretty little creature!” crooned Socrates. “There's nothing to fear! I shan't hurt you, sweet Adonisa! I simply want to have a better look at you! That's a good girl!”

    Pulling her to her feet where she stood swaying with fear but unresisting, he began deliberately undressing the girl. She made no struggle – not even when her small hard breasts with their knobby nipples were exposed. And she still was frozen into immobility when he took the last stitch of clothing from her slim white body, leaving her naked and vulnerable before his heated gaze and greedy hands.

    “What beauty!” he muttered thickly. “Oh, what pristine beauty! Just see that pretty little patch of dark hair down there! I wonder what it hides?”

    “D-Don't hurt m-me, sir!” she whimpered in a small, faint voice. “I'm a good g-girl! I've n-never done any-, thing b-bad, sir!”

    Ignoring her pleas, he shoved her onto the nearby bed, forcing her to lay upon her back. Taking one of her smooth slender thighs in each of his hands, Socrates opened her legs – peering with lust-convulsed features at the pursed lips of her chubby pubic mound surrounded by the fleecy growth of dark hairs still in the thickening stage of puberty.

    “Pi-Please, s-sir!” she sobbed shrilly.

    Dropping to his knees, Socrates buried his bearded face into that young crotch with greedy fervor – groaning as his mouth closed over the firm mound and his tongue slavered into the slitty lips, parting them and sucking hungrily upon her cunt. She writhed about madly, gasping and sobbing.

    Ignacio rubbed at his penis, feeling his own lust stir at the sight of Socrates mouthing the young girl's parts so uninhibitedly.

    While he nursed savagely at the chubby organ, Socrates fumbled at himself until his large stiff penis was brought into view, its pulsing length tipped by a bulbous head. Fondling himself while he nibbled and gnawed at the girl's creviced mound, the member grew yet longer and harder – jutting fearsomely upward.

    Abruptly, Socrates lifted his face from her crotch and shifted his entire body upward so that now he lay atop her, staring into her eyes. She flinched, feeling the stiff thing probing at her sensitive cunt – not understanding what was taking place but fearing it nevertheless.

    “L-Let me up, s-sir! I b-beg you!” she whined, squirming around, trying to keep that hard thing from pressing further into her flesh. Suddenly, Socrates lunged downward – gripping the girl's shoulders as his thrust plunged the erected penis between the soft lips and directly into her vagina – rupturing her hymen in one brutal entry that ripped a high-pitch scream of pain from her straining throat. She arched backwards, fighting madly to free herself but it was in vain. Impaled upon the member rigidly within her body, she could but writhe frantically while he grunted thrust after thrust until soon his rhythm of driving jabs was a frenzied speed whose force rocked the bed upon which they bounced.

    Then just as swiftly as he had penetrated her virginal cunt, he began coming – his gasps of tense enjoyment louder than her shrieks of pain and fear as the rapid spasms of hot juice erupted from the tip of his straining organ and jetted into the depths of her young hole.

    It was over now and he slowly withdrew the still rigid, glistening penis from her body, allowing her to lay in collapsed relaxation as she sobbed with hysterical anguish.

    “Ah,” he hiccuped. “That was most stimulating! It took the edge off but my appetite still clamors for more of the same, greedy fellow that I am in the matter of young pussies!”

    “Where now?” demanded Ignacio whose own lust had been considerably stirred by the sight of the rape, and who quivered with the need to put his aching, throbbing shaft into a tight cunt. “I'm anxious to experience some of that same pleasure, too!”

    “On to the next hut, friend!”

    “Which one?”

    “Any one! We'll just keep trying them all and see what each snug cottage offers in the way of fun and fair damsels!”

    Holding onto each others' shoulders, they drunkenly staggered down the stairs, marched unsteadily past the frightened matron, her sons and the old crone, and stumbled into the darkness outside – heading toward the next building and followed by their silent guardsmen. Now chanting offkey in strident voices made even more absurdly unmusical by the alcoholic dissonance of their vocal chords, they wobbled up to the door – kicking it open with relentless blows of their booted feet.

    That hut contained only an aged pair who fled through the door as soon as Ignacio and Socrates had cleared it and stood swaying in the center of the ill-lit, unkempt room.

    “Did you see them go!” hooted Socrates.

    “Si, mi amigo!” bellowed Ignacio hilariously. “Yes, my friend! They went like imps from Hell riding fumes from the Devil's own asshole!”

    “Not very hospitable, eh?”

    “Oh, well, the woman was haggy – and much too thin for my taste!”

    “But the old man?”

    Ignacio belched joyously. “Ah, now he was well worth the fucking! Nothing like a clean old man who enjoys having his rectum reamed spiritedly!”

    Their throats swelling with laughter, they strolled erratically back outside, went to the guardsmen for another bottle of wine, drank it with garbled toasts to each other – and proceeded to the building beyond, noisily singing again.

    That hut produced superior contents in the forms of three young women and their grim-faced father whose efforts to defend his daughters' chastity met with a brief beating that put the courageous old man unconscious upon his own doorstep.

    The three wenches cowered in a corner of the room, eyes widened and staring hopelessly up at their drunken tormentors. Two of them were quite pretty despite their matted hair and dirt-encrusted hands and arms. Their sister was a drooling idiot who smiled vacantly at the intruders, a thick tongue lolling from the corner of her heavy mouth.

    “The brunette for me!” claimed Ignacio.

    “The other for me!” chimed Socrates.

    “And the moron for both of us!” shouted Ignacio happily, lurching forward and grabbing the tall brunette who struggled violently, kicking at his shins and raining blows upon his chest as he dragged her to the floor. There, he pinned her down and, grinning all the while, tore her pitiful rags of clothing from her shapely body.

    “Sorry I'm not in the mood for loveplay, my pet!” Ignacio panted, getting out his scarred member and shoving it stiffly at her wet crotch in a series of unsuccessful thrusts, missing her cunt each time due to her willful jerkings and squirmings. “I'm much too hot and you stink in the bargain!”

    She ranted in the Grecian tongue, the sounds spewing viciously from her mouth.

    “What did she say to me?” Ignacio called to Socrates who was busily humping up and down, having already impaled the blonde sister who lay moaning beneath his pumping loins.

    “Something about having the lover's pox which she intends giving you if you enter her!” grunted Socrates cheerfully.

    “Well, perhaps I should beware of Greek sluts bearing dubious gifts but I must fuck this lively little frump!” Ignacio thrust his throbbing organ again and this time it went plunging into the desired hole, engulfed by warmth and wetness as it lunged home, accompanied by a steady screeching and cursing from the girl whose wild eyes stared hatefully up into his face.

    The spasms of sexual release came quickly from the intense excitement of having had to subdue his unwilling partner. When he had finished gushing his Juices into her, Ignacio rolled free and waited until, a moment later, Socrates was doubled with orgasmic pleasure and pouring his seed into the helpless blonde's pit.

    After a brief rest, they hauled the babbling idiot sister to the floor where they stripped her to nakedness. She lay looking up at them with dull eyes and the slack mouth twitching as her saliva dripped continuously from a corner of her thick lips. While her face was that of a hideous cretin, her body was even shaplier and firmer than either of her sisters who had crawled out of the hut on their hands and knees.

    “Well, how shall we do this?” mused Ignacio.

    “You rape one end, I'll ravish the other end!” suggested Socrates brightly. “Now there's an economical method for you! Saves time!”

    “Brilliant, my friend!”

    “I know, and having been the creator of this problematical matter, you shall have your pick of either end, true friend!”

    “I choose the mouth!”

    “All right.”

    “I've never fucked a mouth that intriguingly abnormal! Kindly see that this moment goes down in Grecian history of man's progress in matters of scientific importance where his sexlife is concerned!”

    “You're as good as famous now!”

    Ignacio knelt, straddling the girl's head and holding it with both his hands, began thrusting his penis in and out of the slavering thick lips in short, cautious stabs that gave him immediate pleasure. The girl made muted sounds of glee and sucked at the member each time it went into her gaping, drooling orifice and he was finally satisfied that she wouldn't bite it so he began thrusting it further into her maw – withdrawing it only to the head and vigorously, steadily undulating himself so the penis was going in and out between the lips in regular movements that were especially sensual and brought the lust up from his balls.

    Meanwhile, Socrates had hoisted the imbecile's behind up and jammed his erected member into it, energetically making rhythmic movements that kept his shaft slipping in and out of the yielding hole until his lust, too, brimmed to the tip of his organ with straining urgency.

    “She's no virgin,” Socrates observed pantingly. “Some village lout deflowered this poor idiot long before my manhood reached her cunt!”

    “She likes the taste of cock!” commented Ignacio. “See how she savors the feel of it within that horrible mouth! My God, she nurses like an infant at a teat!”

    Both of them busily drove and thrust their organs into each orifice at either end of the prone girl until almost simultaneously their self-controls weakened and their lusts boiled forth – spouting thick gushings of juices into her mouth and into her vagina. She drank the torrents of sticky juice thirstily, mumbling as she swallowed each mouthful.

    When they were temporarily spent, they arose from the girl and leaving their organs dangling outside their breeches, started for the door. Instantly, the imbecile girl sat up and began crying most demandingly – obviously protesting their departure.

    Glancing at one another, they broke into raucous laughter and stumbled out to where the guardsmen waited with the supply of cool wine, hearing the girl's childish tantrum raging behind them.

    For the next few hours they alternated between rests in which they imbibed wine and explorations into village huts. Selecting only the younger women and pushing the mature ones aside, they took girl after girl. Some submitted meekly. Others fought fiercely. None escaped the ruthless entry of the stiffened weapons.

    “Well, it's almost dawn,” Ignacio remarked, sprawled comfortably upon the steps of a hut that had not yet been visited. “My ship awaits – and the morning tide will be ready soon. I suppose I should call it a night.”

    “I shall miss you, friend.” Socrates passed the wine bottle with a genuine smile of fondness. “I've learned much from you. And I've enjoyed your companionship! It won't be quite the same, here, once you've returned to your beloved Spain!”

    “You'll visit me.” Ignacio quenched his thirst in a series of avid draughts from the bottle, smacking his lips with gusto and returning the well lowered container to the other. “You'll get restless and come to Spain – and we'll roister there as we have here! You'll see!”

    Socrates nodded in agreement.

    “What's your pleasure, friend? One more piece of country tail – or shall we go to the waterfront that you may board your ship?”

    Ignacio gazed thoughtfully at the hut. Then he rose unsteadily to his feet, his penis dangling limply before him.

    “Let's see what hides within!” he decided.

    “Lead on, friend!”

    Entering the hut, it appeared to be deserted at first glance, until Ignacio suddenly spied a tiny movement behind some curtains across the room. He strode silently to them, yanking the curtains apart. A petite brunette about fifteen years old cowered fearfully in the closet.

    “Look what I've found!” Ignacio crowed.

    Socrates came over, studying the girl. “By the endless couplings of all mankind, she's a comely little wench! Prettier than usual!”

    “Pi-Please, my lords!” whimpered the girl in a husky voice. “Please d-don't harm me!”

    “Did you hear that?” exclaimed Ignacio.

    Socrates nodded, smiling.

    “Yes, my friend. I heard. She speaks your tongue. He peered down at the girl with a kindly expression. “How did you learn to speak the Spanish tongue?”

    “My g-granny taught m-me.”

    “She was Spanish?” inquired Ignacio.

    The girl nodded, averting her eyes and they were suddenly aware that their members dangled flaccidly in full exposure – which was unnerving the wench. Chuckling, they each put their penis away.

    “You'll not want her?” Socrates asked.

    “Oh, yes,” Ignacio replied, offering the girl his hand and gently pulling her to her feet, “but I want more than her lovely body. She speaks my language and yours. Perhaps she can tutor me, and I can speak your tongue when you visit me!”

    “Then I'll no longer have to speak this fluid tongue so familiar to your ears!” Socrates laughed, clapping the other upon the shoulder. “Well and good! Your tutoress should make fine company during your return voyage – although it's my intention to present you with a variety of… ah… delightful cargo to help while away the long hours at sea!”

    “Thank you, friend.”

    “My pleasure, good friend!”

    Taking the unprotesting girl with them, they left the hut and mounted their horses. Riding away from the village, we reached the waterfront by the time the sun had risen over a sparkling sea. There, all went aboard. Following a scene filled with touching farewells, Socrates left the ship which raised its billowing sails and soon drifted slowly away from the dock, moving with the tide that would carry it to sea – and the long voyage back to Spain.

    It was an uneventful journey.

    Months passed and my ennui once again descended upon me, filling me with its deadly boredom regarding all those about me – and most of all, the now cloying atmosphere of luxury and decadent sensuality. My discomfiting symptoms were familiar enough to make me well aware of my growing need for fresh adventure in other surroundings.

    All I needed was the stimulus of some opportunity to intrigue my flagging enthusiasm and I knew I would literally leap – that being the mode of personal travel granted me by a provident Nature – at the chance to leave Spain, the smothering mood of the lascivious castle which Ignacio now managed as brutally as had his predecessor.

    My opportunity arrived one afternoon in the towering person of a sea captain seeking audience with a gloomy, suspicious-minded Ignacio whose degeneration had been well advanced for sometime – and would be provoked if not actually hastened by some several familiar treacheries slowly developing – of which I had known practically since their inceptions but which Ignacio was still ignorant. The very sameness of the pattern depressed me exceedingly, and I dreaded having to endure still another change of rule with really no change to it.

    Ignacio sullenly agreed to see the captain who was brought before him, cap humbly in hand. He was a most magnificent human – tall and muscular with thick blond-gold hair and a full beard the same texture and tint.

    “Captain Thor Gundersen?” muttered Ignacio.

    “Aye, my lord,” replied the captain in a voice of muted thunder. “That's who I am, sire.”

    “What's this utter nonsense about islands in a far distant western sea – and bringing back girls representing a culture entirely unknown to this clime and to me, personally?”

    “It's not nonsense, sire – if you'll grant me the privilege of disagreeing with you.” Thor smiled charmingly. “I've been to these islands. I went there sheerly by accident, thanks to a most ungodly storm – but I've been there and I've seen the people who live on those green islands!”

    “The young women are beautiful?”

    “Indescribably beautiful, my lord.”

    “And I'm given to understand their customs are completely alien to anything known in this entire part of the world. Is that also true?” Ignacio's troubled eyes burned into the captain's serene face. “I warn you, captain. If you're fabricating this tale – you'll die for your brash-ness!”

    “I'm telling the plain truth, sire. Yes, their customs differ from any known in Europe! They're a primitive yet highly civilized people, and I'm positive you'll find them – should I live through the voyage to the islands, the business of getting some pretty captives and the return trip across uncharted seas – truly remarkable if not considerably fascinating samples of a brand new race.”

    Ignacio stared rudely into space, his mind at work upon a decision. There were many things upon that gradually disintegrating mentality – but his incipient curiosity, his craving for ever new sensual delights and knowledge that expanding his empire meant expansion of his power all combined to affect his decision.

    “All right, captain,” Ignacio said in a crisp tone. “You shall have the ship you request and all the supplies you deem necessary for such an expedition.”

    Thor's face brightened with a huge smile.

    “Thank you, my lord! I shan't disappoint you!”

    “But you must be aware that one of my most trusted men will accompany you on this expedition – with orders to kill you if you fail – or even attempt to defraud me! You'll not know, of course, which man aboard ship he will be!”

    “Very clever, sire.” Thor forced a smile of tactful admiration upon his broad face. “However, I doubt that it will be necessary to have me killed because I intend that this expedition be a most enthralling success – for both our sakes, my lord!”

    When he turned to leave I hurled myself from Ignacio and landed upon the giant Swede. Just the fact that he was leaving this stultifying palace was reason enough to board him. Later, when I nipped him for a light repast – I was pleased to discover his rich blood carried a sour-sweet flavor entirely new to my tingling palate.

    And that is how I once again found myself watching the winds fill fresh canvas sails as Thor's ship plowed seaward – carrying me to whatever adventure lay ahead of me.

    I knew I would welcome it!

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