-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
Barbary Coast
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
It’s called keeping up appearances. He wanted the British Admiralty to think he put up a fight. One never knows. He me might have to switch sides again someday
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Captain Steele and the pirate captains approach the captured women. Captain Steele points his digit to Lady Barbara.
Anxiously, Lady Barbara looks up, fearing the worst to happen. And it does :
"So," Captain Karim Assaraf Safar asks "she is the one who caused the Great CF Crash in the summer of 2013!?"
Anxiously, Lady Barbara looks up, fearing the worst to happen. And it does :
"So," Captain Karim Assaraf Safar asks "she is the one who caused the Great CF Crash in the summer of 2013!?"
windar
Teller of Tales
A quick correction, the pirate's name is Karim Assaraf. Safar is the month of the Islamic calendar. I should have left more spaces between the name and the date.Captain Steele and the pirate captains approach the captured women. Captain Steele points his digit to Lady Barbara.
Anxiously, Lady Barbara looks up, fearing the worst to happen. And it does :
"So," Captain Karim Assaraf Safar asks "she is the one who caused the Great CF Crash in the summer of 2013!?"
As for Barb causing the crash, if she were really that powerful, would she be on a ship taken by pirates?
As you will see, he didn't collude with the pirates in advance, simply was incompetent and a coward and once the game was lost decided to save his own skin.
But perhaps we should continue with the story....
windar
Teller of Tales
4. Ship’s log of Captain Karim Assaraf. Safar 25 1218
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful, we closed rapidly upon the British ship, close enough that I could read the name on the stern, “Excalibur”. My late father, blessed be his memory, had many trade dealings with the English, and while assisting him with these affairs, I had learned their language quite well, having a natural facility with foreign tongues. I knew that Excaliber was a magical sword in an old English legend, but I had not seen any evidence of magic in this ship so far.
We were upon the infidels so fast that they had little chance to defend themselves. Our mighty cannons roared from both sides, knocking many of their sailors into the sea. Before they could respond with their own cannons, we had pulled alongside and our agile men had jumped aboard their ship and begun slaughtering those sailors who didn’t immediately surrender. Those who did were quickly bound and made to sit on the deck.
“Search the ship,” I ordered, “And bring everyone on deck.” Carrying torches to light their way, the crew descended the gangway into the cabins below. It was a mere moment before I heard feminine screams and pleas for mercy. The Prophet had indeed favored us with a cargo that included members of the fairer sex, and several by the sounds of voices.
“Tarik, keep watch up here. I must go below and investigate,” I told my brother. And I was most pleased that I did, because the scene that greeted me exceeded my wildest hopes-a dozen English girls of tender age, with one, likely a chaperone, being somewhat older, but still most attractive. It was clear that they had barricaded the door, though that had proven a mere annoyance to our eager crew.
It also seemed that they mounted a struggle once the men had knocked the door down, as was apparent from the torn state of the nightdresses they wore. The chaperone had evidently fought hardest, as the entire front of the garment was ripped open, leaving her breasts on full display for my leering crew.
The struggle had obviously excited the men, as a few of them had thrown young ladies to the ground and had lowered their trousers, their arousal quite evident as they prepared to mount them. I grabbed one by the shirt, hoisting him off. “You fools!” I shouted. “You know very well that virgins command a much higher price. We will examine them soon enough and you can enjoy any that are not. The ones that are, we can enjoy in the usual ways that will preserve their value. You should know better. If I find that my orders have been disobeyed, I will have you flogged with five dozen lashes. Do not test me. Now bind them and bring them on deck, but no damaging the merchandise. And be quick about it.”
Satisfied that my orders would be obeyed, I took two of the men and went looking for the Captain. It didn’t take long to find him, cowering in his cabin, beneath his desk. I ordered one of the men to drag him out. “You are the Captain?” I asked. He seemed startled that I spoke his tongue.
“Yes,” he replied timorously. “Steele is the name.”
“I am Karim Assaraf,” I announced. “You may have heard of me. My family is well known in these waters.”
He looked at me like a dog that has been whipped by his master. “I have heard the name in various ports,” he allowed.
“I am now in command of your ship,” I said. “You and your surviving crew will be taken to one of the Barbary ports and sold as slaves. He looked around nervously as though some help might be arriving, though I knew there was none. “Who are the women?”
“A group of English ladies and their maids on a chaperoned Grand Tour of the Continent. We are headed to Rome to see the Colosseum and the Forum and the other sites.”
“Well, I’m afraid their tour has been cancelled. They will also be sold and they should fetch a very good price. There will be quite a horde of willing buyers, I should think.”
Surprisingly, Steele began speaking in Arabic, and passably well. “Look, my friend, I know these waters well. I know where and when the Royal Navy patrols.” Noting my surprised look, he continued, “I speak your language some. I have traded in the East for many years. I can help you translate and alert you to when other vessels with interesting cargoes might be passing. I am old and will fetch little in the slave markets. Let me help you.”
I considered this. He was middle-aged and somewhat corpulent, neither strong nor attractive and would not get much of a price as a slave either for work or for pleasure from those inclined in that way. Maybe it was worth seeing if he could be useful. If he wasn’t we could always throw him overboard. “Very well, Steele,” I told him. “Let us go up on deck and examine our haul.”
By the time we arrived on deck, the English captives had been sorted, the men sent to the starboard side and the women to port.
Tarik approached me. “This is a wonderful haul, my brother. Look at these beauties. I would happily fuck every one of them.”
“Allah has surely blessed us, brother, but you know that we must preserve their value for the time being. Not to say that we can’t have some fun with them, of course, but not at the cost of damaging the goods. I have heard that no female slaves have arrived in Tripoli for some time. We might get a better price there than in Rabat or Algiers. “
“I agree,” Tarik replied. “It is a longer voyage, but will be well worth the effort.”
“Good, then you take the men to your ship and I will take the women to mine and we will go there separately. Have Hassan stay here with five or six of the crew and sail this British crate to Rabat. If the Royal Navy sees it, they will follow him and not us. Steele you come with me.” The English fool looked happy that he would enjoy the women’s company for a time. I would have to watch him carefully.
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful, we closed rapidly upon the British ship, close enough that I could read the name on the stern, “Excalibur”. My late father, blessed be his memory, had many trade dealings with the English, and while assisting him with these affairs, I had learned their language quite well, having a natural facility with foreign tongues. I knew that Excaliber was a magical sword in an old English legend, but I had not seen any evidence of magic in this ship so far.
We were upon the infidels so fast that they had little chance to defend themselves. Our mighty cannons roared from both sides, knocking many of their sailors into the sea. Before they could respond with their own cannons, we had pulled alongside and our agile men had jumped aboard their ship and begun slaughtering those sailors who didn’t immediately surrender. Those who did were quickly bound and made to sit on the deck.
“Search the ship,” I ordered, “And bring everyone on deck.” Carrying torches to light their way, the crew descended the gangway into the cabins below. It was a mere moment before I heard feminine screams and pleas for mercy. The Prophet had indeed favored us with a cargo that included members of the fairer sex, and several by the sounds of voices.
“Tarik, keep watch up here. I must go below and investigate,” I told my brother. And I was most pleased that I did, because the scene that greeted me exceeded my wildest hopes-a dozen English girls of tender age, with one, likely a chaperone, being somewhat older, but still most attractive. It was clear that they had barricaded the door, though that had proven a mere annoyance to our eager crew.
It also seemed that they mounted a struggle once the men had knocked the door down, as was apparent from the torn state of the nightdresses they wore. The chaperone had evidently fought hardest, as the entire front of the garment was ripped open, leaving her breasts on full display for my leering crew.
The struggle had obviously excited the men, as a few of them had thrown young ladies to the ground and had lowered their trousers, their arousal quite evident as they prepared to mount them. I grabbed one by the shirt, hoisting him off. “You fools!” I shouted. “You know very well that virgins command a much higher price. We will examine them soon enough and you can enjoy any that are not. The ones that are, we can enjoy in the usual ways that will preserve their value. You should know better. If I find that my orders have been disobeyed, I will have you flogged with five dozen lashes. Do not test me. Now bind them and bring them on deck, but no damaging the merchandise. And be quick about it.”
Satisfied that my orders would be obeyed, I took two of the men and went looking for the Captain. It didn’t take long to find him, cowering in his cabin, beneath his desk. I ordered one of the men to drag him out. “You are the Captain?” I asked. He seemed startled that I spoke his tongue.
“Yes,” he replied timorously. “Steele is the name.”
“I am Karim Assaraf,” I announced. “You may have heard of me. My family is well known in these waters.”
He looked at me like a dog that has been whipped by his master. “I have heard the name in various ports,” he allowed.
“I am now in command of your ship,” I said. “You and your surviving crew will be taken to one of the Barbary ports and sold as slaves. He looked around nervously as though some help might be arriving, though I knew there was none. “Who are the women?”
“A group of English ladies and their maids on a chaperoned Grand Tour of the Continent. We are headed to Rome to see the Colosseum and the Forum and the other sites.”
“Well, I’m afraid their tour has been cancelled. They will also be sold and they should fetch a very good price. There will be quite a horde of willing buyers, I should think.”
Surprisingly, Steele began speaking in Arabic, and passably well. “Look, my friend, I know these waters well. I know where and when the Royal Navy patrols.” Noting my surprised look, he continued, “I speak your language some. I have traded in the East for many years. I can help you translate and alert you to when other vessels with interesting cargoes might be passing. I am old and will fetch little in the slave markets. Let me help you.”
I considered this. He was middle-aged and somewhat corpulent, neither strong nor attractive and would not get much of a price as a slave either for work or for pleasure from those inclined in that way. Maybe it was worth seeing if he could be useful. If he wasn’t we could always throw him overboard. “Very well, Steele,” I told him. “Let us go up on deck and examine our haul.”
By the time we arrived on deck, the English captives had been sorted, the men sent to the starboard side and the women to port.
Tarik approached me. “This is a wonderful haul, my brother. Look at these beauties. I would happily fuck every one of them.”
“Allah has surely blessed us, brother, but you know that we must preserve their value for the time being. Not to say that we can’t have some fun with them, of course, but not at the cost of damaging the goods. I have heard that no female slaves have arrived in Tripoli for some time. We might get a better price there than in Rabat or Algiers. “
“I agree,” Tarik replied. “It is a longer voyage, but will be well worth the effort.”
“Good, then you take the men to your ship and I will take the women to mine and we will go there separately. Have Hassan stay here with five or six of the crew and sail this British crate to Rabat. If the Royal Navy sees it, they will follow him and not us. Steele you come with me.” The English fool looked happy that he would enjoy the women’s company for a time. I would have to watch him carefully.
Last edited by a moderator:
Captain Steele and the pirate captains approach the captured women. Captain Steele points his digit to Lady Barbara.
Anxiously, Lady Barbara looks up, fearing the worst to happen. And it does :
"So," Captain Karim Assaraf Safar asks "she is the one who caused the Great CF Crash in the summer of 2013!?"
And she replies, “Well, I most certainly DID NOT! How dare you imply such a thing! If I were home at Cruxton I would insist that my father, the Duke, order you placed in the town stocks for a day as punishment for such brazen impudence as to have accused his beloved first daughter of causing anything so awful, even if it won’t happen till far off 2013. THE VERY IDEA!!!!! Harumph “
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Stop reading ahead! How do you know so much about what young maids know?
Angela taught me in Elmete Hall:
Thread
Angela And The Savages
windar
Teller of Tales
That's quite a sword on that pirate! He's also holding a pretty big one
I hope, the inserted pictures are ok?That's quite a sword on that pirate! He's also holding a pretty big one
messaline
Crucified Amazon
So, this Captain Steele was not really a betrayer but rather an opportunistic ... I knew by the past a man with a yellow hat who was also an opportunistic : he profited of a curious bluenose judge to pretend that he was "THE" specialist in women'crucifixions and received for that much money !I even was crucified by him !
Last edited:
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Traitor or opportunistic defector? What's the difference?
"For an English Lady, she has a lot of temper, my brother!"
"Do not worry, my brother, I know a Mauretanian prince, who likes to tame such fiery characters for his harem! He will give a good price for her!"
Just say the word, Barb, just say the word...
That's quite a sword on that pirate! He's also holding a pretty big one
windar
Teller of Tales
5. Ship’s log of Captain Karim Assaraf. Safar 25 1218 (later in the day)
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful, the plan having been agreed to with Tarik, I was able to sleep for a few hours in my cabin, waking around noon to a repast of some flatbread and sheep cheese with an orange, washed down with some of our excellent Moroccan tea. Coming up on deck, I found us headed at a good clip in the direction of Tripoli under the steady command of my cousin Rafiq, the drum beat that spurred the rowers steady, but not impossible to maintain over long stretches of time with the right inducement provided by the whip that always accompanied the drum.
It was time for a closer inventory of last night’s take. I approached Steele, who was standing guard over the women, leering at them like a horny old goat, such as I had seen in the Atlas Mountains. “So tell me what you know about these slaves, Steele. Which are the Ladies and which are the maids? In those torn nightgowns with their tits hanging out, I cannot tell. But some buyers may be willing to pay extra for a real English Lady.”
The Englishman escorted me down the line of coffled captives, naming each one and describing her status back in England in his reasonably good Arabic. As he did so, rather than point at the seated girl, he forced her to stand, taking the opportunity to paw them as they rose. I noted their names, although I guessed that once sold, their new masters would give them a good Arab name as would befit their new status.
That task completed I ordered one of the crewmen to fetch one of the slave whips, handing it to Steele when it arrived. “Have them undress, Steele, so that Muad can examine them,” I told him in Arabic. Muad wasn’t a trained physician, but he was the closest we had on the ship; he was the one who did his best to treat sick and wounded crew members.
Steele approached the girl standing in the first position in the line, a very pretty blond, whom he had identified as Lady Jane. “Take your nightgown off,” he ordered in English.
She looked horrified and stood there glaring at him. “Most certainly, I shall not,” she replied. “In front of these horrible foreign men that is a most indecent request.” Steele raised the whip and slashed it hard across her breasts. The torn fabric that partially covered them did little to cushion the blow. She howled like a banshee, twisting madly as Steele raised the whip to strike again. A most unladylike string of oaths flowed from her mouth.
“Shut your fat mouth, you slut. I’m not your stableman back in Surrey.” He struck again. She raised her arm to deflect the blow from her breasts, but the impact with her arm still appeared to be painful. As she shook her arm in pain, Steele took the opportunity to strike another blow across her breasts, even harder than the first. The force drove her to her knees, screaming in agony and surprise at such brutal treatment, since she had doubtless been cossetted and indulged her entire life.
I could see the shocked look on the faces of the other English infidels at the treatment of one of their own, a Lady, no less. Steele was handling this very well, impressing upon them what their new life situation was and that there would be no aid even from fellow English.
“Now get up and take that nightgown off,” Steele ordered. Jane, or, I should say, the Lady Jane, rose slowly, her hands stroking her breasts in a vain attempt to soothe the fire. Her eyes downcast, sobbing in pain and shame, she slid her arms through the holes in the garment and then, noting that the rope around her neck prevented her from raising the cloth over her head, lowered it slowly over her hips and let it fall to the ground.
She was every bit as lovely as I would have hoped, her soft white skin glowing in the Mediterranean sun to which it was so unaccustomed. Her breasts were not diminished in their attractiveness by the livid streaks from Steele’s whip. Rather they looked even more desirable for the marks that had been put on them as a first taste of the life as a pleasure slave that awaited her.
“Alright, the rest of you, get your nightgowns off,” Steele ordered. “Anyone else want a taste of the lash?” he asked. Cowed by the threat that they could have little doubt was meant in earnest, the others followed suit, looking frightened, a few struggling to keep the tears from flowing.
There, by the grace of the Prophet, thanks be to Him, stood my dozen English roses, naked and helpless, to do with as I wished, to sell or keep for my own enjoyment or to allow the crew to have their way with.
I called Muad over to do his examination. He took his time with each captive, examining their noses and mouths, holding each breast in his hands, weighing it and judging its texture, running his hands over buttocks and thighs, and, in a final indignity, sticking two fingers into each one’s female parts to feel for the maidenhead.
Finally, he came to me to report his findings. “All are healthy, Captain, Allah be praised. Any would make a most delightful pleasure slave. I can tell you that of the ladies, all but two are intact. He pointed to Lady Charlotte and Lady Primrose. Of the maids, two are intact,” he indicated Mary and Alice, “and the others not.”
I knew that English women, unlike ours, rode horses and participated in games, and that maidenheads could be lost in those pursuits. Nevertheless, our family had a reputation throughout the Barbary Coast that when an Assaraf sells you a virgin, a virgin she will be, as sure as the sun rises in the East. So, all those without maidenheads would be treated as though they had known the company of men before this day.
I ordered the crew to untie the women and had Muad and Steele sort them into virgins and non-virgins. I called the crew together. “You men have fought well. This may be the best haul in the long history of the Assaraf family. You deserve a reward. All of these slaves,” I indicated the non-virgin group, “have known men before, so you can enjoy yourselves with them. Don’t damage them, but you may satisfy the lust you are no doubt feeling.”
A raucous chorus of cheers rang out from the crew who swarmed around the shrieking women, grabbing at them, a few dragging each one off, some below decks and some to a far corner of the deck. I could hear the women pleading for mercy, but from the lustful sounds of the men, it was clear those please were being ignored.
As for the virgin group, I, Steele, Muad and Rafiq would have to find ways to slake our thirst while maintaining their value at auction.
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful, the plan having been agreed to with Tarik, I was able to sleep for a few hours in my cabin, waking around noon to a repast of some flatbread and sheep cheese with an orange, washed down with some of our excellent Moroccan tea. Coming up on deck, I found us headed at a good clip in the direction of Tripoli under the steady command of my cousin Rafiq, the drum beat that spurred the rowers steady, but not impossible to maintain over long stretches of time with the right inducement provided by the whip that always accompanied the drum.
It was time for a closer inventory of last night’s take. I approached Steele, who was standing guard over the women, leering at them like a horny old goat, such as I had seen in the Atlas Mountains. “So tell me what you know about these slaves, Steele. Which are the Ladies and which are the maids? In those torn nightgowns with their tits hanging out, I cannot tell. But some buyers may be willing to pay extra for a real English Lady.”
The Englishman escorted me down the line of coffled captives, naming each one and describing her status back in England in his reasonably good Arabic. As he did so, rather than point at the seated girl, he forced her to stand, taking the opportunity to paw them as they rose. I noted their names, although I guessed that once sold, their new masters would give them a good Arab name as would befit their new status.
That task completed I ordered one of the crewmen to fetch one of the slave whips, handing it to Steele when it arrived. “Have them undress, Steele, so that Muad can examine them,” I told him in Arabic. Muad wasn’t a trained physician, but he was the closest we had on the ship; he was the one who did his best to treat sick and wounded crew members.
Steele approached the girl standing in the first position in the line, a very pretty blond, whom he had identified as Lady Jane. “Take your nightgown off,” he ordered in English.
She looked horrified and stood there glaring at him. “Most certainly, I shall not,” she replied. “In front of these horrible foreign men that is a most indecent request.” Steele raised the whip and slashed it hard across her breasts. The torn fabric that partially covered them did little to cushion the blow. She howled like a banshee, twisting madly as Steele raised the whip to strike again. A most unladylike string of oaths flowed from her mouth.
“Shut your fat mouth, you slut. I’m not your stableman back in Surrey.” He struck again. She raised her arm to deflect the blow from her breasts, but the impact with her arm still appeared to be painful. As she shook her arm in pain, Steele took the opportunity to strike another blow across her breasts, even harder than the first. The force drove her to her knees, screaming in agony and surprise at such brutal treatment, since she had doubtless been cossetted and indulged her entire life.
I could see the shocked look on the faces of the other English infidels at the treatment of one of their own, a Lady, no less. Steele was handling this very well, impressing upon them what their new life situation was and that there would be no aid even from fellow English.
“Now get up and take that nightgown off,” Steele ordered. Jane, or, I should say, the Lady Jane, rose slowly, her hands stroking her breasts in a vain attempt to soothe the fire. Her eyes downcast, sobbing in pain and shame, she slid her arms through the holes in the garment and then, noting that the rope around her neck prevented her from raising the cloth over her head, lowered it slowly over her hips and let it fall to the ground.
She was every bit as lovely as I would have hoped, her soft white skin glowing in the Mediterranean sun to which it was so unaccustomed. Her breasts were not diminished in their attractiveness by the livid streaks from Steele’s whip. Rather they looked even more desirable for the marks that had been put on them as a first taste of the life as a pleasure slave that awaited her.
“Alright, the rest of you, get your nightgowns off,” Steele ordered. “Anyone else want a taste of the lash?” he asked. Cowed by the threat that they could have little doubt was meant in earnest, the others followed suit, looking frightened, a few struggling to keep the tears from flowing.
There, by the grace of the Prophet, thanks be to Him, stood my dozen English roses, naked and helpless, to do with as I wished, to sell or keep for my own enjoyment or to allow the crew to have their way with.
I called Muad over to do his examination. He took his time with each captive, examining their noses and mouths, holding each breast in his hands, weighing it and judging its texture, running his hands over buttocks and thighs, and, in a final indignity, sticking two fingers into each one’s female parts to feel for the maidenhead.
Finally, he came to me to report his findings. “All are healthy, Captain, Allah be praised. Any would make a most delightful pleasure slave. I can tell you that of the ladies, all but two are intact. He pointed to Lady Charlotte and Lady Primrose. Of the maids, two are intact,” he indicated Mary and Alice, “and the others not.”
I knew that English women, unlike ours, rode horses and participated in games, and that maidenheads could be lost in those pursuits. Nevertheless, our family had a reputation throughout the Barbary Coast that when an Assaraf sells you a virgin, a virgin she will be, as sure as the sun rises in the East. So, all those without maidenheads would be treated as though they had known the company of men before this day.
I ordered the crew to untie the women and had Muad and Steele sort them into virgins and non-virgins. I called the crew together. “You men have fought well. This may be the best haul in the long history of the Assaraf family. You deserve a reward. All of these slaves,” I indicated the non-virgin group, “have known men before, so you can enjoy yourselves with them. Don’t damage them, but you may satisfy the lust you are no doubt feeling.”
A raucous chorus of cheers rang out from the crew who swarmed around the shrieking women, grabbing at them, a few dragging each one off, some below decks and some to a far corner of the deck. I could hear the women pleading for mercy, but from the lustful sounds of the men, it was clear those please were being ignored.
As for the virgin group, I, Steele, Muad and Rafiq would have to find ways to slake our thirst while maintaining their value at auction.
Last edited by a moderator:
Finally, he came to me to report his findings. “All are healthy, Captain, Allah be praised. Any would make a most delightful pleasure slave. I can tell you that of the ladies, all but two are intact. He pointed to Lady Charlotte and Lady Primrose. Of the maids, two are intact,” he indicated Mary and Alice, “and the others not.”Ohhhhhhhhhhh the shame of it all! Not only are we forced to display ourselves naked to be inspected by these awful pirates, but we learn that Lady Charlotte and Lady Primrose have not been chaste! Scandalous!
windar
Teller of Tales
Things are at a pretty pass when you can't count on Lady Primrose to be a virginView attachment 538054 Finally, he came to me to report his findings. “All are healthy, Captain, Allah be praised. Any would make a most delightful pleasure slave. I can tell you that of the ladies, all but two are intact. He pointed to Lady Charlotte and Lady Primrose. Of the maids, two are intact,” he indicated Mary and Alice, “and the others not.”
Ohhhhhhhhhhh the shame of it all! Not only are we forced to display ourselves naked to be inspected by these awful pirates, but we learn that Lady Charlotte and Lady Primrose have not been chaste! Scandalous!