Interesting but after we finally get the Jeep could we at least get a map if not GPS?!?!?
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Barbary Coast
- Thread starter Barbaria1
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The young and the restless??? Really
LittleSiss
Sorceress
Yes!The young and the restless??? Really
It beats 'The Old and the Sleepy'....The young and the restless??? Really
Goodnight, all or wake up well and at least look at a church... It is Sunday, you heathens...
Tree
LittleSiss
Sorceress
IT'S HALLOWEEN SEASON, AND I'M SPENDING 4 HOURS THIS SUNDAY, IN A CATHEDRAL, REHEARSING A REQUIEM. IT DOESN'T GET BETTER THAN THAT!
14. Morning, 30 June, 1803. Lady Barbara
Shaking with trepidation, I mounted the long narrow wooden auction block, stepping carefully where the feet of countless unfortunates had stepped before me. Captain Steele was watching, and when I hesitated he impatiently motioned me forward to the very front edge of the block where I could be viewed from all sides by the buyers.
"Don't stop! Do as you have been trained!" he hissed, twitching his whip arm threateningly.
And so I swallowed hard and stepped forward to meet my fate.
I wasn't the first that morning. Lady Katherine had gone before me, as had Pru and her maid servant. The bidding for each had been loud and raucous ... a rapid-fire cacophony of voices, shouting for attention in different tongues.
Behind the block and under an overhead shelter, I waited with the others while the first three were sold. We were kept under close guard and told to remain silent. I looked around me. There were many to be sold that today, including some dark-skinned African girls. I felt so pale standing alongside them.
(Manip by SkatingJesus)
Although it was difficult to see exactly what went on during a sale, I was fairly certain that, when all was said and done, my three friends were all purchased by that dreadful fat man whom Karim had allowed to inspect us long after other potential bidders had been sent away ... and, unlike the others, had been allowed to deflower my dearest friend, Lady Katherine, in the most vilest of manner possible. Poor Kate!
Indeed, she had spent hours in our cell, long after the fat one had his way with her, wailing and sobbing. I had tried to comfort her, stroking her brow and clucking sympathetically, but to little avail. She would rather have killed herself than submit to that man-beast, and knowing her as I did I was certain that she put up quite a fight, but of course the end result was inevitable. And now, to add insult to injury, the man had just purchased her.
But now it was my turn. I stood at the far end of the block completely naked before as many as twenty or so eager buyers. In preparation for my sale, my handlers had bathed and then oiled my body to ensure that my pale skin would glisten in the harsh sunlight. My hair was combed attractively. They had even smeared a reddish substance around my nipples to darken the circle around them before roughly pinching and tweaking them to make them stand out as tumescently as possible as I mounted the block.
Once in position I froze like a statue ... petrified with shame at the thought of so many dark inscrutable faces out there, intensely scrutinizing me over from head to toe! They clucked their tongue and whispered to one another, presumably pointing out my assets and defects.
Behind me Karim's brother, playing the role of auctioneer, began speaking loudly and quickly in Arabic. The buyers leaned forward to catch every word. The only part I understood was when he mentioned my name, Lady Barbara, and shortly thereafter, the Duke of Cruxton, my father.
"Stick yer tits out and spread yer legs a little more like ye was trained, milady," instructed Steele in a stage whisper. When I did nothing but tremble, he snapped the tip of his whip across my buttocks. The sting of the lash caused me to start, and hasten to comply. A stir of renewed appreciation and interest rippled through the assembled buyers, who began to shout bids enthusiastically.
"Arms over head now and turn yerself about," ordered Steele. "Give them gents a gander at what a right-pampered naked English lady looks like!"
(Manip by Madiosi)
I raised my arms and pirouetted thrice in a spirited little dance that my trainers had taught me to perform ... the main purpose being to wobble my upturned breasts and shake my arse cheeks provocatively. Murmurs of appreciation again rippled through my audience.
The pace of bidding quickened. The buyers pressed forward, jostling one another for the auctioneer's attention. Prodded by Steele, I pirouetted again and then again.
Then I spotted him. Seated to one side, surrounded by bodyguards and seemingly oblivious to the other bidders, was that dreadful fat man.
I tried to think of something else ... anything ... anything at all to transport me from this horror. I closed my eyes and imagined myself back home at Cruxton, in my father's house, safe in my bed. Mary had just entered my room, carrying a tray with my morning tea. She set it aside my bed, half-curtsied and asked if I should require anything else. I asked her please to draw the drapes, it being a glorious morning, and to prepare my bath. As she scuttled off to my bidding, I stretched and slid from my bed, wincing as my bare feet touched the cold floor.
"Bend yerself over now, and dangle yer tits," ordered Steele, rudely breaking my pleasant little reverie and bringing me back to grim reality.
I shot him a dark look and grimaced.
"Ye herd me! Do it!" he growled, brandishing his whip.
I faced the bidders, spread my legs a bit, cupped my breasts in both hands, pressed them to my chest, bent over, and let them fall free.
"Again!"
I repeated four times, tears welling in my eyes and streaming down my cheeks. The bidding was reaching a crescendo and my sense of humiliation had all but reached its limit.
"Now, turn yerself about, bend yerself over and spread yer arse!"
I balked. I refused to obey. Instead I just stood there and cried, wrapping myself in my arms and modestly crossing my legs.
An infuriated Steele jumped forward, reached out, grabbed me by the shoulders, spun me about and propelled me over to a stout wooden post mounted near the rear of the block. In an instant my arms were raised and my wrists slapped into a pair of waiting manacles. Then Steele began to use his whip on my backside. I yelped and raised one leg as the first lash crossed the backs of my thighs. A second sliced diagonally across my shoulder blades, slamming me against the post.
They kept coming, one after another! The more he whipped me, and the more I danced about, twisted and writhed under the lash, the more frenzied and louder the bidding ... so loud after awhile that it drowned out my cries and screams.
Then suddenly the whipping stopped and all fell silent. Slowly, cautiously, I raised my head, tossing back my hair. I wiped the tears from my eyes on the inside of my raised arm and looked over my shoulder in the direction of the bidders.
Seemingly cowed, they had all stepped back several steps and were silent, save for some whispering sullenly among themselves. Only the fat man and his bodyguards remained near the block. He sat there with a disinterested look on his face, but above his head he was holding up a pudgy forefinger.
Karim's brother made a hasty announcement in Arabic.
I had been sold.
Shaking with trepidation, I mounted the long narrow wooden auction block, stepping carefully where the feet of countless unfortunates had stepped before me. Captain Steele was watching, and when I hesitated he impatiently motioned me forward to the very front edge of the block where I could be viewed from all sides by the buyers.
"Don't stop! Do as you have been trained!" he hissed, twitching his whip arm threateningly.
And so I swallowed hard and stepped forward to meet my fate.
I wasn't the first that morning. Lady Katherine had gone before me, as had Pru and her maid servant. The bidding for each had been loud and raucous ... a rapid-fire cacophony of voices, shouting for attention in different tongues.
Behind the block and under an overhead shelter, I waited with the others while the first three were sold. We were kept under close guard and told to remain silent. I looked around me. There were many to be sold that today, including some dark-skinned African girls. I felt so pale standing alongside them.
(Manip by SkatingJesus)Although it was difficult to see exactly what went on during a sale, I was fairly certain that, when all was said and done, my three friends were all purchased by that dreadful fat man whom Karim had allowed to inspect us long after other potential bidders had been sent away ... and, unlike the others, had been allowed to deflower my dearest friend, Lady Katherine, in the most vilest of manner possible. Poor Kate!
Indeed, she had spent hours in our cell, long after the fat one had his way with her, wailing and sobbing. I had tried to comfort her, stroking her brow and clucking sympathetically, but to little avail. She would rather have killed herself than submit to that man-beast, and knowing her as I did I was certain that she put up quite a fight, but of course the end result was inevitable. And now, to add insult to injury, the man had just purchased her.
But now it was my turn. I stood at the far end of the block completely naked before as many as twenty or so eager buyers. In preparation for my sale, my handlers had bathed and then oiled my body to ensure that my pale skin would glisten in the harsh sunlight. My hair was combed attractively. They had even smeared a reddish substance around my nipples to darken the circle around them before roughly pinching and tweaking them to make them stand out as tumescently as possible as I mounted the block.
Once in position I froze like a statue ... petrified with shame at the thought of so many dark inscrutable faces out there, intensely scrutinizing me over from head to toe! They clucked their tongue and whispered to one another, presumably pointing out my assets and defects.
Behind me Karim's brother, playing the role of auctioneer, began speaking loudly and quickly in Arabic. The buyers leaned forward to catch every word. The only part I understood was when he mentioned my name, Lady Barbara, and shortly thereafter, the Duke of Cruxton, my father.
"Stick yer tits out and spread yer legs a little more like ye was trained, milady," instructed Steele in a stage whisper. When I did nothing but tremble, he snapped the tip of his whip across my buttocks. The sting of the lash caused me to start, and hasten to comply. A stir of renewed appreciation and interest rippled through the assembled buyers, who began to shout bids enthusiastically.
"Arms over head now and turn yerself about," ordered Steele. "Give them gents a gander at what a right-pampered naked English lady looks like!"
(Manip by Madiosi)I raised my arms and pirouetted thrice in a spirited little dance that my trainers had taught me to perform ... the main purpose being to wobble my upturned breasts and shake my arse cheeks provocatively. Murmurs of appreciation again rippled through my audience.
The pace of bidding quickened. The buyers pressed forward, jostling one another for the auctioneer's attention. Prodded by Steele, I pirouetted again and then again.
Then I spotted him. Seated to one side, surrounded by bodyguards and seemingly oblivious to the other bidders, was that dreadful fat man.
I tried to think of something else ... anything ... anything at all to transport me from this horror. I closed my eyes and imagined myself back home at Cruxton, in my father's house, safe in my bed. Mary had just entered my room, carrying a tray with my morning tea. She set it aside my bed, half-curtsied and asked if I should require anything else. I asked her please to draw the drapes, it being a glorious morning, and to prepare my bath. As she scuttled off to my bidding, I stretched and slid from my bed, wincing as my bare feet touched the cold floor.
"Bend yerself over now, and dangle yer tits," ordered Steele, rudely breaking my pleasant little reverie and bringing me back to grim reality.
I shot him a dark look and grimaced.
"Ye herd me! Do it!" he growled, brandishing his whip.
I faced the bidders, spread my legs a bit, cupped my breasts in both hands, pressed them to my chest, bent over, and let them fall free.
"Again!"
I repeated four times, tears welling in my eyes and streaming down my cheeks. The bidding was reaching a crescendo and my sense of humiliation had all but reached its limit.
"Now, turn yerself about, bend yerself over and spread yer arse!"
I balked. I refused to obey. Instead I just stood there and cried, wrapping myself in my arms and modestly crossing my legs.
An infuriated Steele jumped forward, reached out, grabbed me by the shoulders, spun me about and propelled me over to a stout wooden post mounted near the rear of the block. In an instant my arms were raised and my wrists slapped into a pair of waiting manacles. Then Steele began to use his whip on my backside. I yelped and raised one leg as the first lash crossed the backs of my thighs. A second sliced diagonally across my shoulder blades, slamming me against the post.
They kept coming, one after another! The more he whipped me, and the more I danced about, twisted and writhed under the lash, the more frenzied and louder the bidding ... so loud after awhile that it drowned out my cries and screams.
Then suddenly the whipping stopped and all fell silent. Slowly, cautiously, I raised my head, tossing back my hair. I wiped the tears from my eyes on the inside of my raised arm and looked over my shoulder in the direction of the bidders.
Seemingly cowed, they had all stepped back several steps and were silent, save for some whispering sullenly among themselves. Only the fat man and his bodyguards remained near the block. He sat there with a disinterested look on his face, but above his head he was holding up a pudgy forefinger.
Karim's brother made a hasty announcement in Arabic.
I had been sold.
theseus
SERVILIS CURATOR
A beautiful pair of girls in a beautiful mosque.Apart, two slaves, in viewing that, were saying : " She's a wild filly this English Lady , but Mehmet Pasha likes that and knows well how to master them !" ...
View attachment 540136...
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Thanks to Madiosi ...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
"And sold to this sympathetic gentleman : the beautiful English virgin Lady, with her exquisite tight little! Congratulations, Sir!"
A-ha! This proves it was not the lecherous Tree that bought our ladies!!!
...and Barb needs more training on how to behave on the auction block! You would never see Messa misbehaving like this!!!
...and Barb needs more training on how to behave on the auction block! You would never see Messa misbehaving like this!!!
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Yes, but it's on a slaves lesbians market ... I dont see men there ...
'Milady'
Like Barb might clap him in irons for disrespect...
Murmur, murmur, murmur!
Just because he has a healthy, um, appetite, doesn't make him 'dreadful'
Uh-oh... maybe we'll be learning the meaning of 'dreadful'
windar
Teller of Tales
15. Ship’s log of Captain Karim Assaraf. Rabi Al-Awwal 17, 1218
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful, our ship lies off Islambol. It may seem to the reader a foolish conceit that a simple brigand and humble follower of the Prophet should find himself in such a great city, seat of power of a great Empire. I must admit I find it hard to believe myself.
The auction of the female captives in Tripoli was a great success. There were many bidders for each one, though, in the end, the other buyers could not match the bids of the fat Turk. I held back the maid Mary whom I had developed a fondness for and wanted to hold back her mistress the Lady Barbara as well.
But Tarik took me aside, “Brother are you mad?” he whispered angrily. “You have seen the price the Virgin Lady Prudence has gotten. Our father, blessed be his memory would not have tolerated such foolishness.”
I glanced at Barbara. She was lovely and the thought of deflowering her had my member reaching for Heaven, all praise to Allah, but I knew Tarik was right. I also knew that Mehmet Ali would be displeased if I did not allow him to buy all of the English ladies. I did not know what he might do, but if he had the powerful protectors in Islambol that he claimed, I did not want to incur their wrath.
I turned my head and gestured to Steele to bring her forward. Reluctantly, she displayed her breasts, every eye in the room following their gyrations, every breath held. But she was too much the proper Lady to display the most intimate spot between her lovely lower cheeks, so Steele took the whip to her, setting her dancing madly.
That erotic sight brought me to the edge of ecstasy, barely able to control myself. Nor was I the only one. If not for the presence of several of my men with swords drawn, I feared that someone would rush the block and take her right there. Men were shouting, those with coins bidding the price higher and higher, those without egging Steele to whip harder. I wanted to shout, “Stop!” but it stuck in my throat and before I could summon the strength, Tarik shouted “Sold!” and pointed at Mehmet Ali Pasha.
The lucky buyer of these fine pleasure slaves wasted no time, ordering his men to chain the women together and march them straight down to his ship. The reverse procession down to the docks was more orderly than the one we had staged a week or so before. The women had been bought and were destined for important men at the Ottoman Court so the crowd could do little but gawk as they were paraded by, naked, and put aboard Mehmet’s ship.
The obese Turk wasted little time with pleasantries and they soon departed. I took comfort that night in my cabin with Mary, pouring the lust that had built at the auction into her. The next morning, Tarik and I divided up the large pile of coins from the slave auctions, distributing shares to the crew members. I could barely look at Steele as I handed him his coins. What kind of man would sell out the men and women of his own country? But he had been useful to us in handling the women.
After the spoils had been divided, I stood on the forecastle, looking out to sea, silently staring at the distant sky. Tarik approached me. “Brother, we have made a most auspicious fortune. Allah has shined his Grace upon us. Yet, you look sad.”
“Not really, Tarik, I am just thinking. Mehmet is wealthy; he paid out so many kurus, yet still had many more in his purse, did he not? And he will sell those English women in Islambol for more than he paid here in Tripoli, will he not?”
“I should think so, Karim. He does not seem the charitable sort.”
“And so, my brother, I am thinking, that if these slaves fetch a higher price in Islambol, why should it profit him and not us?”
“What are you saying?”
“That I should go to Islambol myself and see what prices slaves bring and how they are sold there. Perhaps I can make contacts of my own and the next time we seize a valuable cargo, we can take it straight there and keep all of the gains for ourselves.”
Tarik looked worried. “Islambol is a dangerous place, my brother, filled with intrigue. If Mehmet Ali finds out what you are about, he may have his powerful friends at Court kill you.”
“Tarik, the Assaraf’s did not become the most important family in the Barbary trade by being afraid to take risks.”
“I don’t like the sound of this Karim. I think you are lusting after that Barbara. Do not be foolish, brother. She is sold and not yours any longer; you have her maid and that should be enough. Let us go back to Rabat and rest a bit and then look for another infidel ship to seize. That is what we do and where we belong, not playing corrupt games at Court.”
“I am not lusting after Barbara, but I do want to see for myself how these slaves are handled in Islambol. My mind is made up. I will be careful. Take most of my share with you and keep it safe in Rabat. I will return there and we can decide our future course then.”
“I see you are determined and my advice, sound as it may be, will not deter you,” Tarik replied. “May Allah keep you safe and return you speedily to our home.” We embraced.
As I was in my cabin, preparing for the next day’s voyage, Steele came to see me. “What do you want?” I barked at him. “You have your share. You can catch a ship going to Italy or France and make your way home from there.”
“Captain,” the craven rat beseeched me, “You’ve not been to Istanbul. I ‘ave and can help guide you through the dangers that lurk there. You would do well to take me with you.”
I didn’t trust him, of course, and suspected he would betray me as soon as we landed in Islambol, for a man who would betray his countrywomen who were in his care would betray a pirate in a heartbeat. Nevertheless, leaving him here might be unwise also, as he could give away my plans, such as they were. Better to have him where I could see him. “Yes, Steele, perhaps your talents could be of further use to me. You will accompany us to Islambol, then.” I smiled my brightest smile at him, but resolved to get rid of him as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
The next morning, we both set out, Tarik for Rabat and I for Islambol. We didn’t get far out to sea before Steele became a source of trouble. On a small ship like ours, everyone must take a turn working and he was as lazy as a Pasha. Moreover, he had brought alcohol aboard and drank, against the teachings of the Prophet. And, with no women aboard except Mary, he ogled her constantly.
Finally, on the third day out, he went too far. Quarters were tight and on the way to his cabin he encountered Mary in the passageway. As he squeezed by her, he deliberately ran his hands over her buttocks. This she swore to me. I had enough and called for Rafiq. “Bring this English dog up on deck!” I ordered.
I called the crew to assemble. “This English dog has groped the lovely rear end of my lovely future wife, a wonderful woman who has accepted the One True Faith. Should we accept this?”
“No!” the crew yelled.
“Should we throw the infidel overboard?” I asked
“Yes!” they yelled as one, rushing to grab him and manhandling him towards the starboard railing.
“Wait!” I cried. “Take the coins from his pockets, his share of the auction booty, and I will distribute it amongst all of you. One of the crew tossed me the velvet bag, which was heavy with coins of gold and silver. I caught it nimbly. “His clothes may be of use too, to disguise one of us as an English Captain.” I thought I might want to do that myself some day, since I spoke their language.
The crew began stripping him of his uniform, as he begged in Arabic, “Please, Karim, I ‘elped, you didn’t I? I will ‘elp you more. Don’t be foolish.” He was crying like a woman, whether fake or real tears, I know not. But he was bad rubbish and I was anxious not to spend the rest of the voyage looking at his ugly face.
Once the crew had him down to his britches I told them to stop, for I really did not want to see what he had inside them. One of the stronger sailors grabbed one arm and another grabbed the other and they heaved him over the railing. I watched happily as his floating form receded behind the ship and was never so glad to be rid of someone.
The rest of the voyage to the end of the sea proceeded tranquilly. Mary was excellent company in my cabin at night, pleasing me with her tongue before taking me inside her, gripping me tightly between her thighs, squealing with delight as I rocked back and forth, finally emptying my entire being into her. But wonderful as it was I wished that Lady Barbara could be there also. I imagined Mary pleasing her mistress with her tongue as she pleased me, while I took her from behind. I imagined myself being the one to take Barbara’s virginity, rather than some Turk who would have bought her in Islambol. Why had I not done so when I had had the chance and damn the diminished value at auction?
Eventually, after six days of voyage, we entered the straights that separated the two continents and passed in to the inland sea that the Turks call Marmara. At the far end, where a second, even narrower straight exited, lay the great city. Somewhere among those mosques and palaces and streets teeming with people was Lady Barbara.
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful, our ship lies off Islambol. It may seem to the reader a foolish conceit that a simple brigand and humble follower of the Prophet should find himself in such a great city, seat of power of a great Empire. I must admit I find it hard to believe myself.
The auction of the female captives in Tripoli was a great success. There were many bidders for each one, though, in the end, the other buyers could not match the bids of the fat Turk. I held back the maid Mary whom I had developed a fondness for and wanted to hold back her mistress the Lady Barbara as well.
But Tarik took me aside, “Brother are you mad?” he whispered angrily. “You have seen the price the Virgin Lady Prudence has gotten. Our father, blessed be his memory would not have tolerated such foolishness.”
I glanced at Barbara. She was lovely and the thought of deflowering her had my member reaching for Heaven, all praise to Allah, but I knew Tarik was right. I also knew that Mehmet Ali would be displeased if I did not allow him to buy all of the English ladies. I did not know what he might do, but if he had the powerful protectors in Islambol that he claimed, I did not want to incur their wrath.
I turned my head and gestured to Steele to bring her forward. Reluctantly, she displayed her breasts, every eye in the room following their gyrations, every breath held. But she was too much the proper Lady to display the most intimate spot between her lovely lower cheeks, so Steele took the whip to her, setting her dancing madly.
That erotic sight brought me to the edge of ecstasy, barely able to control myself. Nor was I the only one. If not for the presence of several of my men with swords drawn, I feared that someone would rush the block and take her right there. Men were shouting, those with coins bidding the price higher and higher, those without egging Steele to whip harder. I wanted to shout, “Stop!” but it stuck in my throat and before I could summon the strength, Tarik shouted “Sold!” and pointed at Mehmet Ali Pasha.
The lucky buyer of these fine pleasure slaves wasted no time, ordering his men to chain the women together and march them straight down to his ship. The reverse procession down to the docks was more orderly than the one we had staged a week or so before. The women had been bought and were destined for important men at the Ottoman Court so the crowd could do little but gawk as they were paraded by, naked, and put aboard Mehmet’s ship.
The obese Turk wasted little time with pleasantries and they soon departed. I took comfort that night in my cabin with Mary, pouring the lust that had built at the auction into her. The next morning, Tarik and I divided up the large pile of coins from the slave auctions, distributing shares to the crew members. I could barely look at Steele as I handed him his coins. What kind of man would sell out the men and women of his own country? But he had been useful to us in handling the women.
After the spoils had been divided, I stood on the forecastle, looking out to sea, silently staring at the distant sky. Tarik approached me. “Brother, we have made a most auspicious fortune. Allah has shined his Grace upon us. Yet, you look sad.”
“Not really, Tarik, I am just thinking. Mehmet is wealthy; he paid out so many kurus, yet still had many more in his purse, did he not? And he will sell those English women in Islambol for more than he paid here in Tripoli, will he not?”
“I should think so, Karim. He does not seem the charitable sort.”
“And so, my brother, I am thinking, that if these slaves fetch a higher price in Islambol, why should it profit him and not us?”
“What are you saying?”
“That I should go to Islambol myself and see what prices slaves bring and how they are sold there. Perhaps I can make contacts of my own and the next time we seize a valuable cargo, we can take it straight there and keep all of the gains for ourselves.”
Tarik looked worried. “Islambol is a dangerous place, my brother, filled with intrigue. If Mehmet Ali finds out what you are about, he may have his powerful friends at Court kill you.”
“Tarik, the Assaraf’s did not become the most important family in the Barbary trade by being afraid to take risks.”
“I don’t like the sound of this Karim. I think you are lusting after that Barbara. Do not be foolish, brother. She is sold and not yours any longer; you have her maid and that should be enough. Let us go back to Rabat and rest a bit and then look for another infidel ship to seize. That is what we do and where we belong, not playing corrupt games at Court.”
“I am not lusting after Barbara, but I do want to see for myself how these slaves are handled in Islambol. My mind is made up. I will be careful. Take most of my share with you and keep it safe in Rabat. I will return there and we can decide our future course then.”
“I see you are determined and my advice, sound as it may be, will not deter you,” Tarik replied. “May Allah keep you safe and return you speedily to our home.” We embraced.
As I was in my cabin, preparing for the next day’s voyage, Steele came to see me. “What do you want?” I barked at him. “You have your share. You can catch a ship going to Italy or France and make your way home from there.”
“Captain,” the craven rat beseeched me, “You’ve not been to Istanbul. I ‘ave and can help guide you through the dangers that lurk there. You would do well to take me with you.”
I didn’t trust him, of course, and suspected he would betray me as soon as we landed in Islambol, for a man who would betray his countrywomen who were in his care would betray a pirate in a heartbeat. Nevertheless, leaving him here might be unwise also, as he could give away my plans, such as they were. Better to have him where I could see him. “Yes, Steele, perhaps your talents could be of further use to me. You will accompany us to Islambol, then.” I smiled my brightest smile at him, but resolved to get rid of him as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
The next morning, we both set out, Tarik for Rabat and I for Islambol. We didn’t get far out to sea before Steele became a source of trouble. On a small ship like ours, everyone must take a turn working and he was as lazy as a Pasha. Moreover, he had brought alcohol aboard and drank, against the teachings of the Prophet. And, with no women aboard except Mary, he ogled her constantly.
Finally, on the third day out, he went too far. Quarters were tight and on the way to his cabin he encountered Mary in the passageway. As he squeezed by her, he deliberately ran his hands over her buttocks. This she swore to me. I had enough and called for Rafiq. “Bring this English dog up on deck!” I ordered.
I called the crew to assemble. “This English dog has groped the lovely rear end of my lovely future wife, a wonderful woman who has accepted the One True Faith. Should we accept this?”
“No!” the crew yelled.
“Should we throw the infidel overboard?” I asked
“Yes!” they yelled as one, rushing to grab him and manhandling him towards the starboard railing.
“Wait!” I cried. “Take the coins from his pockets, his share of the auction booty, and I will distribute it amongst all of you. One of the crew tossed me the velvet bag, which was heavy with coins of gold and silver. I caught it nimbly. “His clothes may be of use too, to disguise one of us as an English Captain.” I thought I might want to do that myself some day, since I spoke their language.
The crew began stripping him of his uniform, as he begged in Arabic, “Please, Karim, I ‘elped, you didn’t I? I will ‘elp you more. Don’t be foolish.” He was crying like a woman, whether fake or real tears, I know not. But he was bad rubbish and I was anxious not to spend the rest of the voyage looking at his ugly face.
Once the crew had him down to his britches I told them to stop, for I really did not want to see what he had inside them. One of the stronger sailors grabbed one arm and another grabbed the other and they heaved him over the railing. I watched happily as his floating form receded behind the ship and was never so glad to be rid of someone.
The rest of the voyage to the end of the sea proceeded tranquilly. Mary was excellent company in my cabin at night, pleasing me with her tongue before taking me inside her, gripping me tightly between her thighs, squealing with delight as I rocked back and forth, finally emptying my entire being into her. But wonderful as it was I wished that Lady Barbara could be there also. I imagined Mary pleasing her mistress with her tongue as she pleased me, while I took her from behind. I imagined myself being the one to take Barbara’s virginity, rather than some Turk who would have bought her in Islambol. Why had I not done so when I had had the chance and damn the diminished value at auction?
Eventually, after six days of voyage, we entered the straights that separated the two continents and passed in to the inland sea that the Turks call Marmara. At the far end, where a second, even narrower straight exited, lay the great city. Somewhere among those mosques and palaces and streets teeming with people was Lady Barbara.
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
What a nice man the Captain is turning out to be. Suitable justice for Steele, fair shares for the crew, and he's looking for the Lady Barbara.
Will he try to buy her, steal her, or just catch a glimpse of her as she disappears into the seraglio of the New Palace?
We wait for Lady Barbara's account of her voyage and arrival in Islambol.
windar
Teller of Tales
Yes, Karim is a lovable rogue. But did you not see what he told his brother-the trip to Islambol is strictly business, nothing whatsoever to do with Barb. He's going to deduct the expenses on his 1218 Moroccan tax return and if there's one thing pirates try to avoid, it's trouble with the tax man. That's how they got Al Capone after all...
That Goldman is always on the lookout for a crime
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
At least he doesn't yet have to worry about WTO tariffs for cross-border trade. I wonder if the WTO has a category for slavegirls?