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Barbary Coast

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Not exactly...
in a way, it's the opposite ;)

Loxuru said:
Esperanto, I guess.
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That's right, well done Lox (sorry I didn't spot your post above Windar's)
Firt time we've had Esperanto here, I guess :D

Hey, captain, look what we've found!
This damn box of the infidels seemed too heavy for clothes,
and too light for gold...

Ha! Excellent work comrades

When you've finished, tie them up -
Pirate rules, procedure number six.
 
thehangingtree said:
I took a picture of Lady Barbara being lead through the back streets of Istanbul.
View attachment 540954
It is a bit grainy but I was using my Instamatic 126 with my last flashcube... Give me a break!!!
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AGFA-Autostar-X-126.jpg

Eulalia said:
As used by suicide photographers of the Instamatic State?
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Barbaria1 said:
18. Late night, 6 July, 1803. Istanbol slave market. Lady Barbara

"Who are you?" I asked, huffing and puffing from trying to keep up with him as he led me by my golden chain and collar through the maze of Istanbol's slave market.

" I am the Sehzade, the Prince, and brother of the Sultan himself," he replied.

View attachment 540818

Encouraged by his surprising ability to speak English, I continued on, taking care to insert a note of haughtiness worthy of Lady Pru in my expression, "I am an English lady, I will have you know! First daughter of the Duke of Cruxton. no less. Have you thought of a ransom? I am quite certain that my father, the Duke, would pay well for my release. I am quite marriageable, as you can well see. My father is ambitious and has plans for me. I am not unattractive and could easily snag a Duke or an Earl, perhaps even royalty."

"Sehzade has no interest in your father's potential marriage alliances, nor in English money. Only in the divine pleasures of the flesh."

"Oh ......" I said, lapsing into disappointed silence.

We exited the slave market and wound our way through the city's sprawling torch-lit bazaar. Everywhere he led me, the crowds parted in deference, or was it in fear? Probably both, I decided.

Once we had left the teeming bazaar, the streets and passageways of Constantinople were virtually empty and eerily quiet.

My mind was racing. What was going to happen to me? Would he take me straight to his bed and expect me to please him? And how? As Mary pleased the pirate, Karim? Perish the thought! Was there any way out of this? Some way to delay the inevitable? I knew I had to try. Lady Pru would expect no less of me, not t mention my father, the Duke!

I hurried forward, nearly catching up with him.

"You should know that ... that ... that I am not experienced," I stammered awkwardly.

"Sehzade knows. All the better! Why do you think I paid that fat lout, Mehmet Ali, so much for you?"

"I will disappoint. I have never ..."

"Sehzade is not concerned. Sehzade will play you his new English lady like a fine instrument and promises that when he is finished, she shall scream eternally for more!"

With that, I lapsed into silence again. The man certainly has an ego, and no lack of self-assurance ... but then again he is the brother of the Sultan, I reasoned.

Eventually we reached a formidable looking gateway, entrance to what appeared to be an immense palace complex.

"Topkapi, my home," he said to me, proudly waving an arm in a wide arc as we passed through a massive gate into an inner courtyard. I followed along docilely through two more courtyards, and then to a palace with a door adorned with gleaming golden hinges and latch.

A slave appeared out of nowhere to open the door, bowing deeply as we stepped inside. I was led along an elegant marble-floored corridor, past a great many doors, and then into a larger room with a sunken pool in the center. The air was very warm and humid. I could immediately feel sweat breaking out on my brow.

The Sehzade clapped his hands twice and a dark-skinned eunuch appeared, dressed in a fine red robe with black trim and tall white headgear.

A series of rapid-fire orders were given. The eunuch nodded and bowed after each.

Turning to me, the Sehzade said, "This is Beshir Agha. As the chief black eunuch, he holds the post of Kizlar Agha, and is responsible for the supervision of the private apartments of the Sultan and his brothers, and of course the palace harem."

Beshir Agha bowed deeply in my direction. Not knowing what else to do, I attempted a half-curtsy.

"Beshir Agha," continued the Sehzade, "will prepare you now for your first night here. I will see to devouring you later."

Beshir Agha poked me, pointing to the floor. At first I was confused, then remembered that back in England one is expected to kneel before royalty when arriving or leaving. Figuring it must be the same there, I knelt.

And with that, the Sehzade left me kneeling, head bowed and naked, my golden chain draped over my shoulder, waiting awkwardly for what might happen next.

View attachment 540817

Beshir Agha beckoned for me to follow him. He led me to edge of the pool and pointed at the water, which swirled about in a clock-wise fashion. I hesitated, then stuck my toe in. The water was quite warm.

Two naked harem girls appeared. They took me by the arms and guided me into the pool, whereupon they proceeded to bathe me. When they had finished, they led me out, dried me off, stretched me out on a bench and applied oils and flowery scents.

Oh, to be treated to such luxuries in England, I thought. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad.

Then they dressed me, wrapping my body in fine, nearly sheer, cleverly draped folds of shimmering fabric, and arranged my hair.

Beshir Agha reappeared, walked slowly around me, and nodded his approval. The two harem girls withdrew. Moments later, he took me by the hand and led me away. We descended a spiral staircase that led to the subterranean depths of the palace. He pushed aside a heavy wooden door, and led me into a darkened room. In the subdued glow of a flickering torch, I cast my eyes around a torture chamber containing every possible form of physical terror. On one side of the chamber, a naked young woman lay stretched out on a rack. She turned her head in my direction and gazed at me, her eyes dark and sunken. Angry red welts covered her torso.

Both shocked and puzzled, I turned to Beshir Agha.

He frowned and warned me in English, "Do not displease the Sezhade."

Then he led me back up the stairs, down the central corridor to a rounded set of double-doors. He looked me over, fussed with a wayward lock of my hair, and led me through to a sumptuously decorated boudoir, in the center of which was a large round bed, draped in heavy red velvet and covered with large pillows of every shape and description. Lying in the center of the bed was the Sezhade, surrounded by a bevy of naked harem girls.

He lifted his head, gave me a long contemplative look, and clapped his hands. The girls rose and quickly left the room, each of them eyeing me with curiosity and flashing me knowing smiles as they filed past.

Beshir Agha bowed deeply, and nudged me. I glanced at him. He said nothing but his eyes passed from me to the floor. I caught on, got down on my knees, prostrated myself and waited, my heart pounding in dread anticipation.

I kept my face to the floor, but heard the Sehzade rise and pad over in my direction. He knelt, reached out and raised my head, fixing me with those magnetic eyes.

"Arise, Lady Barbara," he said.

I got up slowly and faced him. Reaching out he slipped the sheer fabric in which I was wrapped from my right shoulder, then from my left. I felt the fabric slide from my body, leaving me totally nude. He took me by the hand and led me to the bed, stooping to arrange a pillow so that I could lie back on it. I slid myself into place, and looked up at him as he hovered over me.

I took in his powerful muscular build, watched his muscles ripple as he removed the baggy blue trousers he wore, and gasped involuntarily at the sight of his very large erect male member.

Did he expect me to suck it as I had learned to do to Karim's? I didn't know. So I did nothing. I lay their rigidly stiff and apprehensive. A vivid memory of that poor girl stretched out on that rack down in that dungeon flashed in my mind.

I've seen Mary do it with Karim, I reminded myself. Perhaps I could ...

He shook his head ruefully, as though to say that this would never do. Reaching for a silver chalice, he swirled its amber-colored liquid contents once or twice, then offered it to my lips. I sniffed it, wrinkled my nose at its pungent odor, then took a tentative sip.

He frowned, slid his hand behind my head to hold it steady, and tipped the contents of the chalice into my mouth. I swallowed the bitter liquid and lay back. Almost immediately, I felt a warming sensation radiating through my entire body and an odd feeling welling in my loins.

In a slow but deliberate fashion, he laid himself down along side me, leaned over, took one of my breasts in his hand, kneaded it and mounded it, then drew it into his open mouth and began rapidly flicking my hardened nipple inside his mouth with his tongue.

His hand moved down my tummy, and then over my hirsute mound to force my thighs apart. He began to massage my crotch, slowly at first and then a little more vigorously with one finger slightly curled and pressed into my moist crevice. His mouth shifted to my other breast while down between my trembling thighs he pressed two fingers in deep.

I gasped. Then he drew his fingers out, dragging them over and around my burning bud. I groaned and tried to clamp my thighs together. But he forced them apart and proceeded to slide his two fingers inside me again, and then out again ... repeating the movement over and over while palming my swelling bud and alternately kissing and pulling at each of my nipples with his teeth.

This soon began to drive me crazy with a desire the likes of which I had never experienced before. I let out a low, guttural moan and began to writhe, impulsively grabbing at the back of his head as he mouthed one of my breasts, taking as much of it as he could in his mouth and sucking it long and hard. I was on fire!

Abruptly he removed his hand from between my wide open thighs and released my breast from his mouth.

"Don't stop!" I cried.

"Hush," he said, touching the moist tip of his finger to my quavering lips.

I reached out to him, but he pulled away, turned me over and helped me up onto my elbows and knees. I knew what he had in mind, and should have hated it, but I was far too gone to care. Ladyship, bah! I don't know whether it was what he gave me to drink, what he did to my breasts and nipples, the workings of his fingers, or all three? But I wanted it badly!

He was on his knees behind me in an instant. I could feel his hard swollen member ... so big and so hard ... probing, searching for the opening between my hot wet lips ... missing ... sliding off and up and over my ass, not once but twice, but returning each time to poke at me again ... and on the third attempt gaining entry ... briefly resting its eager head just inside my wet love portal ... and then in one mighty thrust, burying itself deep, deep inside me.

I felt a flash of pain and then an indescribable sense of pure pleasure as he filled and deflowered me. Taking my hips in his hands, he began to pump and thrust, sliding in and out with long steady strokes. I shut my eyes and made little whimpering noises as I moved my hips in rhythm with his and felt his balls slap against my thighs.

As he leaned over me, pumping hard, I heard his labored breathing rasping in my ears. Then he slid his pelvis higher, his strokes becoming longer, stronger and more insistent. His hands left my hips and slid up along my ribs and around beneath, where they crushed my dangling, wildly swaying breasts tight against my chest.

By then the insistent thrusting and pounding had quickened, reached a crescendo ... as had the intense sense of erotic pleasure building inexorably within me. I was about to lose it ... to climax ... to succumb to the very evil I had for long been taught that ... as a proper English lady ... I should primly, firmly and properly reject.

The moment had come. With one final, deeply penetrating thrust, he stiffened and exploded inside of me, filling me with his hot oriental seed. I threw back my head, howled and bucked, a glorious wave of pleasure and release radiating from my loins to every part of me, before lurching forward onto the bed. He came down flat on top of me. We lay there panting, our sweaty skin sticking together.

I could feel my juices, mingled with his, leaking from me as he slowly pulled himself out and free. He took a moment to nibble at my ear and gently stroke my cheek before rolling off. His weight removed, I eased myself over onto one side to face him. His eyes were closed, his mouth wide with satisfaction. Reaching out, I wrapped my fingers around his hand and pressed it to my breast.

He opened those alluringly dark eyes, grinned and boasted, "See! Just as Sehzade prophesied. The Lady Barbara likes and desires more!"
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A fine deflowering scene. It seems Lady Barbara is a bit of a slut after all!
 
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19. Ship’s log of Captain Karim Assaraf. Rabi Al-Awwal 21, 1218

In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful, it was not easy to get in to see the Sehzade. But, after two more days of speaking with secretaries and other officials and the distribution of some considerable baksheesh, I found myself finally ushered into the princely presence. He sat, or perhaps I should say reclined, on a Persian carpet of the most intricate design, one the Prophet himself would have been proud to have possessed, reclining on a number of cushions of equally impressive design, in a room of a magnificence I had never imagined in my wildest dreams. The walls were paneling of the finest woods from India and beyond mixed with tilework of the greatest art, while the floor was strewn with at least a dozen carpets of a quality that my poor eyes could not tell as being any lesser than the one he lay on. Glancing up to the ceiling far above, I could barely make out the inlaid wood and golden filigree that made it seem like I was looking up to Paradise itself.

I prostrated myself at his feet, muttering, “Your Highness, I am your humblest servant, Karim Asseraf, a merchant of Rabat in the Kingdom of Morocco.”

“I know who you are,” he replied haughtily. “And I know of your family. Arise.”

I got slowly to my feet, barely daring to look at his august presence. “Yes my family has been merchants for many generations on the Barbary Coast.”

He laughed. “What a day we live in when pirates call themselves merchants. But, come, let us not waste time. What is your business here in Islambol and with Us?”

“Your Highness, I wanted to present my humble self to the man who bought the Lady Barbara. It was I who captured her and gave her her initial training, taking great care not to take her maidenhead, and I want to make sure she is satisfactory to Your Highness.”

“Yes, we have had an interesting few nights together, Barbara and I. And she did mention her capture and your name. You made quite an impression on her.”

“I am glad she pleases you. I fear however that with time she will grow lonely for the company of other European Ladies of her type. I wouldn’t want Your Highness to grow tired of her.”

He laughed. “Such concern from a brigand is most touching. However, there is another European slave in the harem, a blonde French girl named, Marie, who belongs to Kemal Agha, the Captain of the Palace Janissaries. I believe Barbara speaks some French and she speaks some English, so they can chat when they aren’t busy working.”

“That is good, Your Highness,” I replied, thinking fast, trying to save this conversation. “But still I don’t know if that will satisfy her in the long term. She is very demanding.”

He laughed again, harder this time. “That she is, Assaraf, that she is. But out with it-What are you proposing?”

“That Your Highness permit me to buy her back for the full price you paid, so that I can ransom her back to her father, who is a very important man in England. I know your brother, the Sultan, may the Prophet bless his name, wants good relations with England.”

Sehzade looked displeased at the mention of his sibling. “You leave my brother to me, Assaraf. I am not selling her. She pleases me and a sale is a sale. Surely, as a merchant,” he sneered at the word, “you know that.”

This wasn’t going well, but then I had an idea. Perhaps I could use Mary to get messages to Barbara. “Indeed, I do, Your Highness. I would never suggest otherwise. But permit me to make a suggestion.”

“I am listening, Assaraf, but be quick.”

“I kept back from the sale in Tripoli Lady Barbara’s maid, Mary. I intended to take her back to Rabat as a wife, as she is eager to adopt the One True Faith. But I am prepared to offer her services to Your Highness as a tribute, so that Lady Barbara can have company from her own country during the period of adjustment, someone who knows her and is used to taking care of her wants and needs.”

Sehzade looked interested in this. “How is this Mary in giving pleasure?’

“Most excellent, Your Highness. I enjoyed many happy nights at sea with the Lady Barbara and Mary. I do not think you will be disappointed.”

“Alright, Assaraf. I think that may be a good thing. What do you want in return?”

“Nothing, really, Your Highness. Only that if I capture any more ships with fine infidel Ladies, I will bring them straight to Islambol and offer them to Your Highness personally, and you will give me a fair price. I will preserve them in the best possible shape, so that Your Highness can be certain to be the first man they will know.”

“You are a smart brigand, Assaraf, a worthy heir to your distinguished family.”

“I shall have the maid Mary here by nightfall, Your Highness, for your pleasure.” I bowed and backed out of the room and one of the Prince’s secretaries escorted me to one of the palace gates. As I made my way down to the port I thought about what I might be able to arrange with Mary that would help free the Lady Barbara. Nothing brilliant came to mind, but four hundred years of Assaraf family success in our business had to count for something.
 
windar said:
Only that if I capture any more ships with fine infidel Ladies, I will bring them straight to Islambol and offer them to Your Highness personally, and you will give me a fair price. I will preserve them in the best possible shape, so that Your Highness can be certain to be the first man they will know.”
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That's got the business mission out of the way.

What about the ladies? Too complicated, in my view. Another ship will come along...............
 
windar said:
...However, there is another European slave in the harem, a blonde French girl named, Marie, who belongs to Kemal Agha, the Captain of the Palace Janissaries. I believe Barbara speaks some French and she speaks some English, so they can chat when they aren’t busy working...”
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Woman-Picture-4_300 (3).jpg Hum, I dont dare to think who is she ...

 
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