The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 4

CHAPTER X

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!