Anonymous - The Autobiography of a Flea, Book4

“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?”