Anonymous - The Autobiography of a Flea, Book4

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!”