The Ship, The Oasis, The Book, The Slave free porn video

THE SHIP, THE OASIS, THE BOOK, THE SLAVE. By GENEVA Rami, a Barbary Coast corsair and slave dealer, miscalculates when he attempts to take over the business of another dealer whose wife has a magic book. I leaned over the side and watched as the prow of our ship cut its way through the water, shearing the waves, eagerly, almost joyfully it seemed, matching my own mood, now that we were in sight of the buildings of Tunis, finally showing above the horizon. The sails were filled by a good wind and behind us our white wake tracked across the blue water. Two dolphins played at our bow wave. Soon we would be home with our cargo. It would be a profitable voyage. It was good to feel a warm sun on my shoulders again, now that we were back in the warmth of the Mediterranean, away from the gray green swells and forbidding waters of the Atlantic, the gloom of the cloudy skies and the chill of cold rain. I turned and watched my father as he gave instructions to the steersman, Habib. He caught sight of me, grinned and waved to me. "Soon home!" he shouted. My father was Ahmed Nouri, a corsair, merchant and slave dealer in Tunis a tall proud looking man. His skin, like my own and all of the crew, was tanned brown from the sun. His hair was still dark, but with some gray now showing at his temples. As befitted his position, he had dressed in his most imposing robes for our return, confident and proud in himself, his abilities, and his station in life. I felt real pride watching him. He was a successful captain and trader, an important figure in our city, one whose counsel was sought in its affairs. We were returning from a successful voyage, and now the holds contained our cargo, one that soon would be traded in the markets. That meant money for all of the crew. All had shares in the profits, even me, but as eldest son, I would also share in the family good fortune. Actually this was my first voyage even though I was sixteen. Usually my father made one of these voyages each year, mixing it with trading of other goods along the North African coast. Unfortunately for me, at the time of last year's voyage, I had taken sick with a fever, and the year before that my mother had insisted that I was not ready. I had wanted to go, but my father finally agreed that I was not quite strong enough. Now I was a man, with strong shoulders and muscled limbs, and I had been able to handle all that my duties on the ship required. The harbor was now almost in sight. I could see the uneven but familiar skyline of the city's buildings. I could see other ships in the harbor, trading vessels, galleys xebecs dhows and a few larger ships like our own. We welcomed the fresh wind. It filled the sails, but, a good thing too, it blew away the stench of our cargo. From the loading in northwest France, in the area they called Brittany, it had taken us a week to fight our way past the French coat against contrary winds, then another week through the Bay of Biscay. Finally a good wind had blown us past Portugal and through the strait between Africa and Spain into the warmth of the Mediterranean. Unfortunately, the wind had then died to a whisper for almost a week before it picked up, delaying us. For the cargo held below, it would not have been pleasant. Although their comfort was really beneath our consideration, any true health problems did concern us. There was enough food and water, but the cramped holds did not support good sanitation and disease, even a few deaths were to be expected. This time we had lost about six of the fifty or so we had put in the holds and each loss cut into our profits. You see, my father was involved in the slave trade. In fact he was one of the most successful of the Barbary pirates, as the infidel Europeans called us. On this occasion we had raided two villages on the Brittany coast, almost the furthest west, away from their navy and the centre of the French authority. We had actually captured several scores of villagers. We rejected anyone over thirty, then a selection was made of the younger men and women, who were chained and herded or ferried onto the ship and pushed below. Some other raiders took as many captives as they could cram below decks, but my father's policy was to be more selective. We usually rejected children as well. There was good market for them as domestic slaves, but too many of them died on the voyage for their transport to be profitable. Those we selected, the young and healthy, wept and cried of course, but they would be the best choice for slaves as they were strongest for the conditions. Apart from agriculture, many of the men would have had no useful skills and would mostly have be used as labor in the fields. The women would be mostly sold for domestic servants, but, for the younger and more comely ones, a much different fate could be possible. They would be auctioned off in the market place like the others, but sold either to the harems in the city, or for the best quality ones, to other traders who would take them east for slaves into Egypt or the Ottoman lands. Then in the harems, in silken perfumed servitude, they would obey masters. Actually it might not be a bad life for them. All they had to do was to obey their masters' bidding, to please them, and, if they were wise, avoid harem intrigue. I allowed myself to dream of my own future. At some point I would have ship of my own and with my father and younger brothers we would make up a powerful fleet, able to extend our raids further into the north European waters. The women of these lands would be taller and fairer and were worth more in our markets. The crew on the rigging had now partly furled the large lateen sail, and our speed slackened. We passed the harbor entrance, our crew waving to other ships and the merchants standing on the wharves. No doubt the slave traders would have recognized our ship and were already getting the auction areas ready. To a great cheer from the onlookers one of our crew ran up our flag, to show we had been successful. Our steersman showed his usual skill as the ship coasted slowly to the wharf, touching it with barely a bump. Immediately some of the crew jumped ashore to fasten it to the bollards. A minute later our gangplanks were set down. Some of the crew knew others on the wharf and there was much embracing and slapping of backs, but my father barked orders. Attending to the ship and offloading its cargo took priority over anything. Unfortunately for us it was evening. The bazaars and, more importantly for us, the slave market would be closed. We wanted rid of the slaves as quickly as possible. The sooner they were on land and washed to remove the filth and stench of the hold the better they would avoid disease or recover. Besides, slave buyers preferred clean, washed captives and we would get a better price. With foresight, my father had previously commissioned two large iron cages to be built near the wharf and these would serve as lodges for the slaves that night. They would be given fresh water and in the morning they would be fed, given soap and water to wash themselves and then inspected and sorted. We had put sixty or so healthy prime specimens on the ship. Most still looked as if they were in good condition. Five had died on the way and their bodies had been thrown overboard. At first I had been horrified at this casual disposal of bodies but my father had shrugged and told me not to worry. They were only infidels and potential slaves after all. I had more things to concern myself with. Slowly, fearfully, flexing their stiffened limbs, the captives emerged from the hold. We allowed them to stand together for only a minute before they were herded across the deck and over the gangplank onto the wharf, and into the two cages. The cages reinforced the realization that they were now slaves. They might be out of the hold, but even in the open air their slave status would be obvious. The men were driven into one cage and the women in another. The cages were set some ways apart and out of sight of each other. My father had explained the reason to me previously. In the presence of women, men would be likely to try to be more protective of them and try desperate, but futile, actions with injuries that might reduce sale prices. Some years past a slave resistance and subsequent fighting had even cost us some lives. I especially watched the women as they stumbled off the ship. Although most were grubby and stained with the voyage, I was quite taken with some of them. They were all much lighter skinned than the local women, or at least what I could see of the local women. I saw my own mother and sisters without veils, but otherwise in the streets, markets or bazaars, women were well covered. But more strikingly, in contrast to the almost uniformly dark haired women that I saw around me, the hair of these women showed a wonderful exotic variation, from very fair to black, and even a few with exotic reddish tones, from golden red to auburn. Also, these slave women were wearing much less clothing than the women I knew. The mean, poor quality clothes they were wearing, made more ragged on the voyage, hardly concealed their figures. At the sight of several in particular I felt a stirring in my loins, with glimpses of long legs, or ripe full breasts. I mused that when I was older and owned my own boats and had made my own fortune I could have a harem of beautiful women and I would make sure it had a good sampling of these exotic northern women. Someone had commented that these women with the reddish hair and fairest skin did not tan well under our North African sun like darker women, but I thought that this was very appropriate. It was fitting that the world was so planned that these women, designed for the harem with their exotic looks and desirable provocative figures, should also have skin especially suitable for its shade. The very next day, the slaves were sold in the markets, and as I hoped, it did not take long to sell them. There was a good demand for them and it was very gratifying to see the bids going up and up. Afterwards I took a day or so to myself, calling on old friends and visiting around the city. I had a number of rather pleasant tasks to attend to. With the money in my pocket from my share of the cargo I paid visits to quite a few merchants and had myself some sumptuous new robes made. After all, I was a scion of an important trading and merchant family and had to dress accordingly. Also I had my eye on getting a horse and visited several breeding stables. I had no doubt too, my mother would be making subtle hints among other families with marriageable daughters that I would be a good match. I was not ready yet, but perhaps I would take a wife in a year or more, and then a year or so after that, for variety, another wife or two. If I chose my wives suitably they might even help select some of my harem, as was expected. So, life was good. Sailing the northern seas and raiding northern lands was a profitable business. A week or so after our return my father called me into his accounting room. My Uncle Youssef was there too and I greeted him. He was my mother's brother and although he had his own business and did not take part in our voyages, he helped in the trading side of our business. My father pointed to our ship out at the wharf. "Good ship, isn't it, Rami?" "The best," I agreed. "She has the capacity for what we want, but she is still fast enough to outrun our enemies. Father, when can we go on another voyage?" He laughed. "Curb your impatience! So you want to be out plucking fair women from the infidels! All in good time! But I have something for you first, an idea that has been in my mind. I have discussed it with Youssef and he is in favor." I looked at him expectantly. He had something else on his mind. "But I also want to discuss this with you, Rami. We do well from these raids. This one has been especially profitable, and as you know, the slave auctions here give us money and we earn a good living. But, I think we could do better. Maybe you already know that the slave traders who buy the best of our captures, the exotic females suitable for the harem, then trade them further along the coast?" He nodded, his eyes gleaming. "Yes, into Egypt, and even further into the Levant, or even into Asia Minor! There they get excellent prices for them. I have heard that it is twice what we get here! So, I have been thinking that we should do this ourselves. If we take the risk of capturing the slaves why should we not be the ones who gain the most profit? "What do you think?" I did not reply immediately. He was right, but I tried to think of the risks and costs involved in taking the slaves further along the coast. It would cost us more for feeding them, and in the heat of the Mediterranean, conditions below decks could cause more deaths. It would be another voyage, but at least along a friendly coast. The Mediterranean could have storms, but they were usually less severe than the wild Atlantic storms. Hesitatingly, I told him my thoughts, discussing the points for his suggestion and those against. Then, "all in all, Father, it probably would be to our advantage," I added. I did not know whether he would chide me for my caution, but I need not have feared. "Yes, Rami my son, I have raised you well. It is a joy to have a careful son!" He slapped me on the back, then leaned back. Uncle Youssef laughed too. "I have been thinking we could house the slaves above decks in a cage. Then they would be kept in better condition than in the hold. It would usually be warm enough for them as well. "I have a lot to attend to here, in my business and in the city life. So Rami, do you think I could entrust you with doing that?" He grinned at the light in my eyes. This would be a great responsibility, a challenge certainly, but I felt I was up to it. "Yes Father! "I exclaimed. He got up and looked down at the slave cages on the dock, now empty. "Unfortunately, before I thought about this, I had sold all of the slaves from this voyage. But, after our next expedition, that is what we will do. We will select the best ones and you can take them east. I don't suppose you would object too, to taking one of the new shios I have ordered?" He grinned at me. I gave a cry of delight. I was even more pleased when he told me it was a new xebec he had commissioned from a ship builder in the port. It would have enough capacity for about four dozen slaves, and the crew, but very fast. "Yes!" I almost shouted. "Father, I will not let you down. We should get this done as soon as possible. So when can we go on another raid?" He gave me big smile. "Still wanting to get on with even more raids, are you?" "Yes, we can do this almost right away, as soon as we have the ship cleaned and restocked." My father stroked his beard. "Don't forget, there are some minor repairs too, after that squall we hit, but a day or so should fix that. We may need to hire fresh crew too. Some of the earlier crew may want a rest. We will be able to get out and back before winter sets in and with it the Atlantic storms, but I think this time we should aim for further north and not France. This last raid may have alerted the French authorities and they may be more protective of their citizens. I have been thinking of these islands further north, England or Ireland. Many of the women there are fair skinned and will get a good price. There are more blonde or red haired women too." So, in another week, the ship scrubbed, repaired and restocked with supplies, we set off once more. Youssef was left in charge in Tunis. We were fortunate with the winds that time as well. We had to battle some winds to get out into the Atlantic, but once there the winds that had delayed us in our previous voyage blew us north. As we had planned, this time we decided to keep away from the French coast, and sailed round the westerly long tongue of the land called England and into the sea between the islands. We had our eyes on the land they called Ireland. The inhabitants there were reputed to have a high proportion of the fair skinned and blonde or red haired type of women that would get good prices. We saw a few small fishing boats but left them alone. A small merchant vessel was a tempting prize and we could have taken it but we had more profitable things in mind. I am sure they could not believe their luck when we ignored them. After a few days investigating the coast we chose a small fishing village on a peninsula near the south-western tip of the land. It was a rocky coast, with many cliffs except for the small bay at the village. This had a gravel shore, suitable for loading slaves. We descended on the village at dawn. We had first unloaded about half of our force out of sight of the village. They would circle behind to prevent escape. Then we sailed our boat right into the harbor to block it. The alarm was raised, of course, but we had blocked escape. Some villagers tried to hide in their huts, but their doors were easily broken down and the inhabitants dragged out. We herded all of the terrified villagers into the harbor area. As our forces were too numerous and well armed there was little resistance although three men at one house gave us trouble and had to be clubbed to the ground. We also had trouble with the priest of a small church. He fought with us with his bare hands until he too was subdued. He was fairly young and could have commanded a good price in our markets, but my father thought he would be more likely to act as a focus of resistance, being an infidel priest, and ordered our men to make him kneel. Then with no further ado my father drew his scimitar and beheaded him. That caused an immediate great scream and wailing from the rest of the villagers, but the fight was knocked out of them. We then set to our usual practice, separating those youths and young women in the best health. We finally selected around thirty, who were bound and ferried with our small boat out to the ship in small groups. Seeing their young people abducted caused another great cry among the rest of the villagers and, as it looked like it would stir some resistance, we set all of the village huts on fire to keep them occupied. The captives loaded and stowed below decks, we also took some of the village livestock. They were poor quality, almost emaciated beasts, but would give our crew better food for a day or so. We used almost the same tactics at a village another day further east along the coast and this time got twenty more captives. This now filled our holds and as soon as we had them put below we spread the sails in a good northwest wind and headed for home. A day later we were passing by the west of England, then another past Brittany, the scene of our previous raid, and down across the Bay of Biscay, as the French called it, down the coat of Iberia and finally back into the Mediterranean This time, back in Tunis, we disembarked all of the prisoners and did a rigorous selection of the young women, looking for the comeliest.We finally selected about half of the number and, once they were washed and checked for illness, we reloaded them onto the new xebec. My father and Uncle Youssef had suggested that I make Alexandria my destination. The market there was well known and far enough for us to travel to test the market. Maybe in later expeditions we could aim for the Levant or Asia Minor. Although this was a cargo only of women, I had them all put in leg chains. I did not expect any trouble from them, but the fetters would bring them sooner to accepting their slavery. We had little trouble except for one red headed girl. She was quite pretty, but very recalcitrant. She continually defied us and although I could not understand her language, it was obvious that she stirred the others up. Threats, slaps and showing her the whip were no use and I finally had her brought up to the deck, and lashed to the mast. Her clothing was torn from her back and, with the rest of the slaves made to watch, I had one of my men, Omar, a strong Nubian, lash her on her bare back. She screamed of course, first in protest but finally in agony until she fainted. At the end her back was bruised and slightly blistered, but I had told Omar to space the blows up and down her back to avoid making her bleed or raise blisters. I did not want her back scarred as that would reduce her price, and identify her as a troublemaker. Omar suggested that we allow the crew to take their turns with her, but I forbade that two reasons. She would get a better price as a virgin, and I wanted to discourage the crew from thinking that it was their right to use the women we had captured. After that whipping she was much better behaved but, on looking at her, I knew her spirit was not broken. No matter! She would behave herself with us, and no doubt in some harem she would learn better manners. If not, she would get enough whippings from the eunuchs until she did. Of course, at Alexandria we had to give the Bey a gift to smooth our way but that out of the way I was able to arrange with a slave trader the use of his holding cages, and we unloaded our cargo. I also hired two local women to help the women get tidied up. First I made them wash to remove the smell. I even gave then soap and shampoos to wash themselves and their hair. Being women, they were only too pleased to tidy themselves up, but it was to my advantage too. It would mean better prices for them. By this time there were few tears and wails from the captives. Most were apprehensive, but that was to be expected, even though they must have known what was in store for them. In some ways they should have been proud to be selected because of their beauty. As harem slaves or odalisques they would have an easy life until their beauty began to fade. Then they could be given to some other master. I supposed a few might even end up as wives. The girl we had whipped still kept a sullen look on her face, but we had beaten the resistance out of her. Her back was mostly healed so she would get a good price. They had not been as crowded as before, but several dozen slaves cannot be crowded on a ship without some health problems and the day before the auctions I had them stand before me for a final inspection. Fortunately all were in good health. Looking at them, I was pleased, even proud, that I had such as quality of offerings. Some of the girls were very attractive and I was sure of good prices, much better than we could have had at Tunis. The women were all naked, of course, the better for them to be inspected. Many had screamed when their last clothes were taken from them, but it was necessary. Their clothes were too shabby and dirty. Besides, it was warm. They did not need clothes. Some no longer bothered to hide their breasts or groins. Their naked bodies would help to tempt buyers. Yes, I had a quality offering, and we would soon get the money to make our extra journey very worthwhile. The girls' exotic appearance would attract many buyers, and hopefully those with large moneybags. Of course, a buyer's final selection would depend on a closer inspection. Those who had clear skin, firm breasts and who were virgins would get the highest prices. The day before the auction I took a stroll around the area to look at what else might be on offer and compare the quality of my merchandise to others. I was slightly apprehensive. If the other merchandise was too high a quality it might reduce what I could expect from my own slaves. But in fact the slaves other traders had on offer were a mixed bunch. Many were older. These would get lower prices. Some were children. The boys could be trained as domestic or as farm boys. Maybe a few would be castrated for harem guards. The girls would be sent for domestic use or, if they showed promise of beauty, they might be kept secluded until they too went on a block for sale to a harem. I noticed that further along the wharf there was another cage filled with female slaves for auction. I strolled to it to see what competition I might have there. The girls in this cage were mostly fair skinned, yet a little more olive hued than my own slaves, and they were almost all dark haired. I supposed they had been taken from Italy, Spain or southern France. As I scrutinized them I saw that while all were individuals, all were very beautiful, with beautifully proportioned faces. Their figures, while slim, showed opulent breasts and hips. They would be eagerly sought after for harems. Interested, I moved closer to the cage to inspect them. The two guards did not hinder my inspection. Maybe they thought I was a potential buyer. It was warm and the women were all naked. A few still tried to hide their breasts or groins, but like the slaves I had brought, most had become indifferent to their nakedness. They looked at me with a mixture of emotions. Most were impassive, but some looked at me with curiosity, and some with dread, or I might even call it apprehension. A few looked as if they were just numb with horror. That was a pity. They should have accepted their fate. Maybe they thought I was a trader, come for a preliminary inspection. I looked them up and down, appraising them. I was very impressed. This was a premium batch. Their owner would get a good price for them. "You like them?" A figure had come up beside me. This was a swarthy man, but by his appearance he was not a sailor, a merchant maybe. "Yes, they are high quality. They will fetch a good price," I said grudgingly. 'Ah, but perhaps a man like you could afford one or even two for your harem, or maybe as maids, but ones that you can use as you wish." I laughed. "No, you mistake me. I have my own slaves to sell. I was merely comparing quality." "Ahh yes," I wondered. "So your's are that new group closer to the harbor? I see you have some exotic red haired women. And fair skinned too! You should get a good price for them." "I hope so. You are the owner of these? You are selling them?" I pointed to the slaves. "Yes, I had them from the supplier about a week back. I get a fresh batch every few months from him." "Where are they from originally?" "I am not sure. The trader keeps his secrets, but by their complexions and complexions I suppose they are originally from Italy, Sicily or Spain." "Who is the supplier?" "He calls himself Walid. I believe he owns land in an oasis just west of here." I had been quite taken with a dark haired slave who was lying close to me and I suddenly noticed things about her. She was free of body hair, her underarms and her groin were totally bare of hair and there was strange regular mark incised on her upper arm. When I looked more closely I saw a similar mark on all of the women. I commented on these to my companion. "Well, Walid insists that he takes pride in his products and he believes in selling quality women. Many harem owners, especially the Turks, like their women to be totally free of body hair. That way the women can keep cleaner too. And the mark? That is a brand that Walid puts on all of his women." He grinned. "A stamp of quality, if you wish, one that will identify his products. Oh yes, he guarantees that all are virgins!" I watched the women for a few more minutes then bade him goodnight and made my way to my lodgings. He had given me some ideas that I could consider for our own slaves. I watched that lot of slaves being auctioned off the following day. I was not interested in buying any. I just took note as the potential buyers inspected all the slaves, checking their eyes, teeth, feeling the firmness of their breasts and even inspecting the genitals. Some women objected and squirmed. Others just stood as impassively as they could, their eyes dulled. It was obvious that all were virgins and as I expected, all got very good prices. My own slaves were next. They seemed less docile than the previous batch and some were in tears. I was annoyed when it was discovered that some were not virgins. Still, I was happy with the prices we got. Their exotic looks helped the price. One of the slave buyers, a Levantine, came and spoke to me after the sale. He had actually bought a dozen of the women in my group. "I congratulate you, Rami! You have a nice selection. I have bought as many as I need at this time, but if you have more like these in a few months, I would like to see them. I have eager buyers in Turkey. Where are these from?" "One of the Atlantic islands off Europe, I believe they call it Ireland. What the Romans called Hibernia." "A good choice!" Back home in Tunis, my father sat stroking his beard when I told him about my experiences, and the other slaves I had seen. "That is well done, my son. These things are good to know. So perhaps we should have our own next lot prepared and examined better. You say all in that other group appeared to be virgins? That is very unusual." I chafed all of that winter. My father insisted that I learn the merchant side of our business but I was eager to be out with our ship again to raid the European coast. Unfortunately the winter storms and cold made sailing too risky. Even in the springtime there were a series of storms and it was not until almost midsummer that we ventured out into the Atlantic. We had in mind this time to raid the south coast of Ireland again, but this time we intended we would aim just a bit further east. After a bit of scouting we found a suitable village. It was larger than that the previous year, but this time it was on a large island. Refining our previous tactics, we sent a larger party ashore on the other side of the island then at dawn descended on the houses rousing all the inhabitants, before they were properly awake and drove them to the harbor. Unfortunately the men in this village were better organized than the previous year. A group of about two dozen had heard us, and, armed with rusty weapons, charged into us. Several of my men were cut down before we could react properly and I got a small cut on my leg before we had them beaten. The fight was short and we killed them all. Three were still groaning on the ground and, angry at their resistance, my father signaled to one of my men to cut their throats. The women screamed and wailed at this, but the fight was out of them and we began our selection, taking about fifty young women, wherever possible selecting the youngest, prettiest and those with reddish or fair hair. As soon as we could we put them on the ship. The rest of the villagers were still screaming at us and, becoming tired of the noise, my father set our men on them. We must have killed about three score although a few managed to escape and run off. No matter. They would tell of our ferocity to others and that might mean less resistance in the future. We threw the bodies off some rocks into the water. We were on our way home, sailing west of the land they called England, through some scattered islands when my lookout shouted that there was a sail in sight. I hoped we had not been seen but it was soon evident that a larger ship was pursuing us. Worse, there was a strong blustery wind with rain showers that tossed our ship up and down and made it difficult for our rowers and for steering. "It is an English ship. There is a flag with a red cross on it." said my father. It was larger and more powerful than our own, laden as ours was with the captives. We would normally be much faster, as we were sailing close to the wind, but between these islands we could not tack efficiently. We had some small guns, but we would be no match for the other ship's cannon, and aiming would be difficult on our pitching ship. To add to my worries, as it grew nearer, I saw the English ship was a deep hulled vessel, and would be more stable in the water than us. The ship had now managed to come close to us. We would usually have been faster and more manouevrable, but the wind was not suitable. I saw a flash and puff of smoke, heard the explosion and a cannon ball splashed to our stern. A minute more and they would have our range, worse, they might draw level and we could be broadsided. My father growled. "We may have to throw the slaves overboard to lighten the ship." Just then, my heart went in my mouth as our ship grated over some submerged rocks. A look of alarm passed over my father's face but with another wave we were clear. I saw our pursuer turn away. Obviously they could not follow us with their deeper hull. My father ordered a quick turn away from our previous course and when night fell our pursuer was far behind. In the morning there was no sign of it. I was shaken with the a narrow escape, but we had no other difficulties until the Mediterranean when the wind failed and we had to row the ship for days before it picked up enough. When we reached home we were all exhausted. The stench below decks was terrible and we had the prisoners brought up on the deck, while some were given pails of water to scrub out the mess. We had lost five of the women to sickness, but that could not be helped. As before, we disembarked them, and rested them, allowing them food with a lot of fruit, and water to clean themselves, before we loaded them again. My destination was again Alexandria, hopefully with the same success as the previous time. At Alexandria we had just unloaded the slaves into the holding cage when an auctioneer came round to inspect them. "Nice group," he observed. "There is a demand for these types." So, next day the sale went well. I was even more pleased with the prices than the previous time. Maybe it was because we had no competition from any other slave dealers. I did not see any women being offered from the dealer called Walid as there had been before. I was supervising my crew as they were loading supplies for our return home when I saw a man, well dressed in rich robes, obviously some type of merchant, stroll up to the dock by our ship. He hailed me and I went to meet him. "I saw the sales of your slaves last year," he said. "Good quality! This last group looked like high quality as well. Oh, my name is Walid, and I have heard that you collected these slaves in the Atlantic off Europe? So you made a good sale this time. Are you happy with the prices?" "Walid? Someone mentioned your name last year. You had good quality slaves then. Oh yes, I get my slaves from the islands off Europe, and maybe we got good prices because you gave me no competition this time," I grinned. "Oh my name is Rami Nouri." He gave me a small bow, and grinned back through large white teeth. "So you have heard of me. Unfortunately I have no women for sale this time. My most recent captures are still being prepared and trained. I just came to see how the demand was for female slaves." I wondered what he meant. What was there to do with potential slave girls other than having them healthy, and properly washed. "I have usually sold mine as soon as possible," I said. "I noticed that you only had women for sale. You capture only women?" I shook my head. "We have caught and sold men as well, but beautiful girls suitable for the harems get the best prices and we have decided to concentrate on them." "What do you do with the men in the places you raid?" "We prefer not capture any now. They are more difficult to handle, and don't bring as much profit as girls for the harems. Besides, they eat more on the voyages, and take up more room." He took my arm and led me aside. "What would you say if I had a method that would get as high a price for men you capture? Perhaps even higher." That caught my interest! "Then I would want more details from you to decide if it would be worthwhile. But I noticed that you did not have any male slaves for sale either. So why are you interested in males? Why are you asking?" His smile was now more enigmatic. "Perhaps I can tell you later. Maybe it would be good for you to visit me at my home and see my workplace. It is at an oasis a day's journey from here. There is a large rock on the coast. Have you seen it?" "Yes, I remember it. It is very noticeable." "Then be there in three days. I will meet you and take you to our oasis. I have a compound there where I prepare and train my slaves. I may have an offer for you. "I have to return here by land. I have several camels and some supplies that are best transported by land, otherwise I might beg a small trip on your boat. She looks very sleek and seaworthy." "Yes, she is fast, roomy and manouevreable." He bowed to me. "Then I bid you good day, and a safe journey. I will see you at the rock in three days." I was intrigued by what he had said. If we could make an arrangement to sell the men for good prices too that would be good. Besides, I was interested to find out which lands he raided for all of his beautiful female slaves. I even might be able to raid there as well. It would save journeys out into the perilous Atlantic. Our ship was good for our purposes, fast and efficient, but if we were ever caught in a real Atlantic storm it might be a different matter. With an unfortunate contrary wind off the desert it took us all of three long days to reach the rock. It stood out from a rocky beach and I had barely had the ship anchored when I saw a black clad figure walk onto the beach leading two camels and I recognized my acquaintance. I wondered how long my journey would be with him. I did not like leaving the xebec close to the land in case a storm blew it ashore. I had Wael, my mate, row me to the shore. I wondered about taking him with me as I did not like the idea of being alone in the oasis. Although my acquaintance appeared friendly, he might be intending to hold me for ransom. Unfortunately he only had one extra camel, so he had intended that only I go with him. I had conferred with Wael earlier. "I rely on you. If I am not back in three days, you will leave. Do not allow the ship to get nearer to shore and at any sign of trouble you are to sail off. You are to sail to my father and he will decide on my rescue." However, Walid welcomed me and appeared relaxed and friendly. He asked about myself, my family and my voyages. Convention and politeness required this, but it seemed that his interest was genuine. "How far do we have to travel?" I asked. "Oh, only two hours or so there, then it will take a day to show you round my oasis and for me to extend my hospitality. Then perhaps we can have some negotiation to our mutual benefit. Finally, two hours or so to bring you back to this beach. Tell your crew you will be back in under three days." I thought for a minute then agreed. I took a minute with Wael to confirm my plans, then waved as he reluctantly rowed back to the ship. "All right," I said to Walid. "I am ready." "Very good, then your transportation is ready," and he pointed to the camels. "You have not ridden a camel before?" I flushed slightly. "No, not much. I prefer a horse. It has a better gait." He laughed heartily. "Then, my friend, it will be another experience for you." We set off to the south. He did not use a compass, seeming to rely only on reading the subtle pattern of the landscape. All I saw were featureless hills, dunes and rocky sandy areas. Yet, as he had said, in three hours I saw a dark line wavering on the horizon in the heat of the desert sun. As we got nearer, it resolved into several groves of palm trees, and then at their feet and in and among them, the roofs of several buildings. I was glad we were almost there as camel riding was uncomfortable. Soon our camels passed between some low walls, and Walid was greeted with shouts of acclamation and waves from some artisans working at doorsteps or on benches in the street. Some urchins stared at me and I saw shrouded women look at me carefully. I was surprised by the size of the oasis. If Walid controlled it, he would be a wealthy man. There were about two dozen houses at the end of a small dusty path into the oasis, and finally, obviously where we were heading, there was a large low building. A large pool of water surrounded by palm trees made the area very pleasant. As we stopped and dismounted at the building an ancient looking manservant ran out and took our camels. Next, a middle-aged woman, also a servant, bowed to us and presented us, very formally, with some water. Right behind her another woman had come to stand, watching us and obviously waiting until the servants left. She wore long robes, but curiously, she was not veiled. I saw that she was tall and had a beautiful face. "This is my wife Amira," said Walid. I was taken with her appearance, and as she moved gracefully to embrace my companion it was obvious that she had a slim figure. She and Walid greeted each other warmly, embracing each other, and I almost felt awkward. To be cautious, I made sure not to appear to stare at her until she bade me welcome in accented Arabic and stood aside as Walid led me inside a house. "I am honored to be your guest," I replied. In a minute she took her leave. "Please excuse me, I must warn the servants to start preparing supper. I will send some refreshments." Another servant appeared almost immediately and we sat down with some cool drinks, a tray of fruit and some strong coffee. "You noticed my wife Amira?" he asked. "Uh yes, what about her?" "Don't you think she is beautiful?" he asked. I was shocked. This was getting dangerous. I did not know what answer he would find acceptable. "You are indeed a lucky man to have wife like that," I said carefully. "But by her accent she is not from here?" He laughed at my discomfiture. "I am sorry. I am boasting too much. No, as you guessed, she is not from here. But I first bought her as a slave. You will have noticed her fair skin? She was captured on a raid on Iberia. That was six years or so ago, the times when I went out on raids myself. Now I leave that to others and concern myself with only training slaves. "I had captured her along with some other slaves on one of my earlier raids. Then somehow she caught my eye during training and I took her as a concubine, and later as a wife. Now I would be a fool to let her go. She has accepted me and my world. I believe her when she tells me she loves me, but like the European women, she does not like to be veiled like women here do. Here at the oasis we need not keep the same customs as in the cities. As I love her too I permit her that small indulgence. "Now, Rami, tell me more about yourself and your family." I gave him a short background of my own family, my father's prowess as a captain, trader, and merchant, and of my own voyages in the Atlantic, then these to Alexandria, and my hopes for the future. He seemed very interested in my experiences and asked me many questions about the northern lands. At one point we were interrupted by three young children, two boys and a girl. Walid introduced them all, obviously taking pride in his family. By now it was getting darker and soon we were called into a large room for supper. Amira had changed from dark robes to a much brighter costume in red and gold silk. Now I saw golden earrings glint beneath her dark hair and a gold band at her throat. On her fingers were golden rings. She sat quietly in the background, only briefly adding to our conversation, but by her expressions I knew she was listening intently. Much later, my host bowed to me. "I think it is now time for rest." I was shown to my sleeping quarters. By the bed was a basin with a large ewer of water and some scented soap. I washed myself and, tired from the journey and the long day, lay back on the bed. I must have fallen asleep almost instantly. I woke to the sound of a rooster crowing at the sunrise. I looked out of the window at the eastern sky, its flushed pink tinge lending a strange hue to the white buildings of the oasis. My window overlooked a large sunken yard, surrounded by a high wooden fence. In it there were several more buildings, with what appeared to be barred doors. Right in front of the buildings was a stout wooden post set in the sandy soil. As I watched, several men entered the compounds, carefully closing the gate behind them, and began opening the doors to the buildings. Soon several young women came out of the buildings, one at a time. Some were rubbing sleep from their eyes, some stretched, some idly walked around the inside of the fence. From what I could see, all were beautiful. They walked gracefully. I supposed they were slaves being readied for the market. Eventually, there were several dozen women in the courtyard, standing in various sized groups. Then, as I watched, Walid's men brought in some food and water. The women lined up and were given measured quantities. When they had eaten the men divided the women into groups of a dozen or so and shepherded them to other buildings. To my surprise, I saw a woman, I recognized as Amira, dressed this time in black robes, enter the compound and then one of the huts. I stretched, and washed myself with the water in the ewer and the soap. I inspected my new beard in the piece of shiny metal that hung on the wall. It was coming along well. When I walked out of my room a servant bowed to me. "Good morning, sir, my master awaits you." He led me to the large room we had been in he previous night. Walid was already sitting at the table, studying what I supposed were ledgers. He closed the ledgers and rose to greet me. "Ah, you slept well, I hope. My cook has prepared some breakfast for us. And coffee! It is all in the vessels over here." He pointed to some covered dishes on the table. "Come on, let me see if you have an appetite, it will be better than you got on board your ship, I would imagine," he laughed, and I joined him. Yes, on board a ship the food variety was a bit more limited. He was right. I ate well and enjoyed it all. The food was excellent and the coffee strong and bitter. He pushed a tray of oranges to me and I opened one and separated the segments. It was sweet and juicy. The accompanying dates were sweet and flavorful. Walid lived and ate well. He looked at me when I had finished. "My wife will not join us. She has some work to do with our captives. You would have seen them down in the courtyard from your room? So my friend, we have things to discuss, but first, I should show you round my establishment. As I told you, I am in the business of slave trading. But you know that I also train my slaves, especially for the harem, so that they will fetch better prices. "The women you saw from your window will already be at their training. My wife sends her apologies. She is very much involved in the training too. Perhaps we will see her later. Would you like to come with me? I dare say you are interested in how I run my establishment." We descended a flight of stairs in the house. He unlocked a stout door, opened it, but carefully relocked it behind us. I saw that we were now overlooking the sunken courtyard, We descended some more steps into it. I looked apprehensively at the high wooden wall round it. He gestured round. "Yes, this is where we hold the slaves while they are in training. It would be difficult for any to escape. My latest group are almost ready to go to the sales, and I want you to see them. "They are kept in huts like this." He opened a door to one of the low buildings and, once my eyes got used to the gloom, I was able to look around. I was impressed. The quarters were roomy, clean and well ventilated. The hut was mostly filled with bunks but these were well spaced, each supplied with a blanket as a precaution against the chill of the desert night. Some buckets were filled with waste, but as I watched a servant bowed to us and removed them, replacing with empty containers. In two small alcoves I saw more buckets and some washbasins. There were even slabs of soap and some cloths. I sniffed the air. It smelled of the women, but it was not foul. "You treat them well," I observed. "It is worthwhile. If they are healthy, they get better prices, and, why capture a slave, with all the trouble and expense, if you do not look after her? She is a slave, but also an investment. We demand they keep themselves clean. They sell better that way." Walid led me next into another hut. This one was almost filled with young women, mostly sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a woman who was explaining something to them about clothing. Some looked at us in interest, me especially, but at a sharp command from the woman in front their eyes quickly returned to her. Two male guards with swords and whips stood at the side. I noticed that most of the women now bore the brand on their upper arms that identified them as having been trained by Walid. I commented on the brands. Yes, "he said. "I have them branded about halfway through their training. Those who do not show the brand have been branded on their pubis. I think they do not want their brand to show, but naked, their brands are quite obvious." The woman was showing some clothing to the slaves. I looked at it in surprise. While she herself was dressed from head to foot in a black robe, she was holding up fine, silky stuff, in many colors, almost transparent. I smiled to myself. It would not stand up to much wear in any fields or domestic service. It was definitely harem wear, designed to allure. Some of the women looked apprehensive. "We want the slaves to be seen as desirable women for the harem and this fine wear shows their bodies better," explained Walid. In the next hut another woman was explaining how to wash with soap, or use fragrant oils and perfumes and cosmetics. I caught a trace of one perfume, an exotic musky confection. This hut also had two guards. As we watched, she pointed to a beautiful dark haired girl sitting before her. The girl immediately leaped up and presented herself. Her attitude puzzled me. In my experience women were keen to have themselves decorated but this woman was clearly uncomfortable even though she had leaped to obey. She held her mouth rigid as if to stop from crying, but she obeyed all her instructions perfectly, if reluctantly. I was amused and yet fascinated with a demonstration on how the women should coil their hair and their choice and setting of ornaments in it. Occasionally I had seen my sisters or mother decorating themselves but I had not realized how much personal care that was involved with women. I watched for some minutes while several girls interwove colored cords and set gold ornaments in their coiled dark hair until the instructor was satisfied. The woman looked over all of the slaves, commenting and criticizing while the girls scurried to obey her. At last the instructor seemed satisfied and at her command the girls removed all the ornaments, and shook out their hair. But that was no sooner done than all were instructed to tie their hair behind their heads again. The instructor signaled to two other men. "Watch," my companion said, and took my arm. "It is time now that their ears of this batch were readied for earrings." The slaves were made to line up. I saw a few nervously put their hands to their mouths. Others grimaced. An end door in the hut was opened and at first I blinked in the glare. Two men were standing there, one holding a large needle and the other a tray. I heard a command and the first girl reluctantly moved forward. One of the men took her arm and pushed her to her knees and took hold of one of her ears. The other man took the needle and quickly pushed it through the lobe of her ear. She screamed with the pain and I saw blood at the needle. He took something from the tray and a he held it at her ear I saw it was a small simple ring. Opening it, he pushed an end through her wounded ear, then closed the ring with pliers. She winced and squealed again even more when her other ear received the same treatment. He let her go, and I saw her ears were now fitted with small silver rings. I saw tears run down her face. She ran out into the compound, crying, holding her face in her hands. I was puzzled. I was sure that the piercing hurt, but I wondered why a grown woman would cry so much. I had even seen one of my sisters have her ears pierced. She had winced at the pain, but afterwards her face had a look of pride. This woman here just looked devastated. I watched a few minutes while the other women had their ears pierced. Something else puzzled me. It seemed strange that all needed done. In my experience, most women from southern Europe had their ears pierced for earrings while they were quite young and were happy to wear earrings. "I have something more to show you." My companion led me to another hut. In it I saw women being paraded up and down. Evidently they were being trained to walk gracefully. The female instructor was quite demanding. She gave continual instructions and even struck some girls with a light rod. Again, two guards stood at the side, their eyes watchful. Walid was taking no chances Further down in the hut there was a kind of dais covered with cloth. It was surrounded by slave girls, all dressed in fine silken garments. There were three girls on the dais, being instructed by another, I supposed more experienced slave on how to pose themselves and how to lie and reach sensually. I watched with awakening interest as the girls rolled and stretched, almost writhing. They held their mouths slightly opened, and inviting, showing even white teeth and pink tongues. All were made up with kohl, reddish cosmetics on their lips. Their hair was shiny, lustrous and ornamented. All were very desirable. The other slaves surrounding those on the dais were being ordered to pay attention, and to reinforce that, two more men stood with whips by the door. Even the instructor held a whip and I saw her lash one girl across the legs for some error or mistake. It was remarkable. The slaves were so sensual that I felt my loins stir. I was glad I was wearing a loose robe. "They are very beautiful," I breathed. "Yes, these have taken the quickest to their slavery, and are almost ready for the market." I was taken with one particular beauty and watched her closely. Then, for a moment, her loose skirt fell aside and I glimpsed her groin. Her pubis was totally bare! It was then I noticed too that all of the women were bare under their arms. "Uh, I see that your women are hairless." He nodded. "Oh yes, it is one of the first things we do, and part of their preparation. The Turks especially prefer women with no body hair. So we have to strip it off. We do it when they first arrive and then give them a further treatment a month later. Usually that is sufficient, but where necessary the girl can later do it herself. We use a melted mixture of waxes. We pour it over the girls' hair and when cooled it is ripped off. It pulls out the hair with it." I winced. "That sounds painful," I said grinning. "Oh, perhaps a shock when it is done, and the skin is tender for a day or so after, but the discomfort does not last. Besides, it helps the women keep clean. That is important for the market. You saw they are all branded?" "No, I did not." "Yes, we brand them on the upper arm, or at their bare pubis. We actually allow them a choice. The girl is forced to choose one or the other, and that makes her partly complicit in her marking and thus her slavery, and helps her accept it. My brand is an assurance of a quality product! "It takes a long time to train them, first to get used to their bodies, then to move gracefully. And learn a minimum of our language before we can even train them in the arts of the harem." I was puzzled. What did he mean by 'get used to their bodies'? I decided to let it pass as I was overwhelmed by much of what I had seen already. By this time we had spent some hours in the compound and I was beginning to feel hungry, as well as overwhelmed by the extent of his business. He was very thorough. His slaves would be eagerly sought after. I was glad when he invited me back into the house for a light meal with cool water, followed by coffee. "I have not seen your wife today." He gave a laugh. "Ah, she is involved with training too, but at the very last stage. Unfortunately I will not be able to show you that part as she refuses to let me or any of my men view it, except from a distance. So women, even among wives, mistresses and slaves, feel a sisterhood." He gave a hearty laugh. "You wonder why? I indulge her, but I know that she trains our female slaves very well. She is very thorough, and my slaves are eagerly sought after. Why, one harem has at least a dozen of our girls." "I still do not understand," I said. "What could she teach them that she does not like you to see?" "I mean all the arts by which a woman can give a man pleasure. For some reason my wife does not wish me to see other girls at practice." He looked at my face and laughed. I felt my face redden. "I see, my young friend, you have something to learn." "I know how men lie with women," I protested. "Yes, I agree. A man can enter a woman and get much pleasure from that, but a woman can very well give enormous pleasure to a man even when she is not entered." I was too embarrassed to ask further, but the thought kept with me. He grinned. "I see by your face that it intrigues you. I think I will have one of the girls give you a demonstration later." His next question startled me. "You noticed my wife's jewelry?" This was more personal that I expected. "Yes, the gold suits her. That gold band on her neck is very unusual." "Well, she was once my personal slave. And to reinforce that I had her wear a collar, a silver one, but I grew more and more fond of her, and when I found she was pregnant I married her and I freed her. Of course I then offered to remove her collar but she said it would remind her of her past status, how I had rescued her and freed her, and that it comforted her. I thought it unusual but I compromised by giving her a gold one. It is locked on her, as she wished." He gestured noncommittally. "She says it gives her a feeling of security." That night we had another very pleasant meal. His wife was again unveiled and sensually dressed in yellow silk robes. As with the previous night, her gold earrings, collar and other jewelry glinted provocatively under her hair. I noticed this time that she bore Walid's brand on her arm. "My young friend here is intrigued by your collar," he said. "You must show him." He held out his arm to her and immediately she approached him and knelt before him. "See, look at this." He took her collar and held it to me, gently bending her head back so that her throat was exposed. He turned it on her lovely neck. "The goldsmith did a good job. Can you see the join?" I only saw a fine opening line, less than a hair's width. "It is a very skilled job." "It is a special catch. The collar cannot be removed now except by cutting." "It shows my husband that I am valuable, "she whispered. Her voice was husky. I saw her nipples push out the silk of her gown, but I averted my gaze in case Walid noticed and took offense. "You are from Europe, Amira?" I asked. "Yes, I came from the area that is called Iberia." "I think you should tell him about your story," said her husband. "I was sixteen when my husband captured me. Or, I should say, rescued me." I must have looked puzzled. There was that word 'rescued' again, "You want to know how?" "Rescued?" I asked. "Forgive me, but how could, being taken as a captive, as a slave, be called rescuing?" "I may tell you the story later. Suffice it to say that Walid, my future husband, was taken with my beauty and kept me instead of selling me directly. He made me his personal slave, a concubine, I suppose, but he later freed me and did me the honour of marrying me. Now I help him. He is a corsair. Europeans call them raiders and plunderers. They are in fear of them. Through my husband I take my revenge on those that killed my family and would have killed me, and those who stood by and let it almost happen." I was almost stunned, almost embarrassed, by her intensity and her vehemence. I was intrigued by her story but she bowed to me and indicated that she was finished. My host clapped his hands and a servant bustled into the room to remove the dishes. "Now, young sir, it is now almost time for us to retire. I think we have special treat for you tonight. It will show you how effective our training is." He clapped his hands again. A young woman stepped into the room, escorted by a guard. The girl was stunningly beautiful, with a pretty face framed by long black hair. She was elaborately made up and her lips were full, red and inviting. Her brown eyes were made up with gold and brown tones. Her figure was slim, but still well curved. Dangling silver earrings hung from her small ears. An ornate slave band was fitted on her upper left arm and on her neck was a silver slave collar, its design like the one Amira wore, except that it had a ring attached to it. "This is Jasmin. You are to take her to bed with you. She is fully trained, and ready for the slave auctions. I am sure she will show you many delights. However, one thing, and I hope you will not be disappointed, you absolutely must not enter her! She is a virgin and we need to keep her like that to keep her market value. But she should not disappoint you. She has been trained in all the ways of giving pleasure to a man, but this will be her first time with an actual man." The girl may have been trained, but she was not at all confident or willing. I saw her bottom lip tremble and a tear appear at the corner of one kohl-ringed eye. So the girl was nervous. That was unfortunate, but as a slave, what would she expect? She must have been captured some months ago, and if she had been intensively trained like the slaves I had seen she should have accepted her slavery by now. I was pleasantly surprised when at a command from Amira she let her translucent muslin covering slip from her shoulder and fall around her pretty ankles. She truly was beautiful. She was totally free of body hair and I even saw the cleft at the base of her belly. I felt my loins stir at the thought of spending the night with this beautiful vision. Walid pointed his finger to my bedroom and nodded. I gathered that the girl was to go there, but she suddenly sank to the floor in tears, shaking her head and crying in distress. I was embarrassed but both Walid and Amira were furious. Walid called for servants and the girl was dragged away, crying and screaming. They did not bother sending her clothing with her and she was taken away, completely naked. Walid wiped the look of white faced fury off his face and gave me an apologetic bow. "My sincere apologies, Rami, I chose badly. That one had shown resistance in the past, but I thought we had taken it out of her. "But, we must make amends." He motioned to Amira and she left the room. I stood there embarrassed, but in a few minutes she returned with another girl. This one was as beautiful as the first. Walid made a command and she stood straight in front of me and, at his gesture, she slipped her pale blue gown off her pretty shoulders, letting it fall, and stood there, absolutely naked except for her jewelry She too bore a silver collar. She was absolutely beautiful. Her hair was dark but her eyes weee gray. Her reddened lips were full and inviting. Her figure was wonderfully curved. Her breasts were full and round, each tipped with a brown areola and prominent nipple. Amira made a command and, licking her lips, the girl put her hands behind her neck, lifting her breasts, and swayed her hips gently. Like the previous slave, she was completely free of body hair. Like the previous slave, I saw the beginning of her cleft as she swayed in front of me, her legs slightly parted. "This is Leila. She will satisfy you, I am sure. Tell us if she does not. Again, you may use her as you wish, but you must not enter her. She is also a virgin. Now, I wish you a pl