The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 4

CHAPTER VIII

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.