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
