16th Century Slave Market Pt. 01

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Barbary Pirates enslave a town.
6.8k words
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 11/04/2015
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Carole99
Carole99
468 Followers

16th Century Slave Market Pt. 01

Author's note: I have examined several sources on this vile ancient practice. The story is partly based on the attack of the Barbary Pirates upon the town of Ciutadella, where over 3,000 citizens lost their freedom to slavery. Of course, history is not the purpose of this site. I am using the dark and violent known facts with considerable literary license to concoct what I hope is a stimulating simulation, told through the experiences of one woman and one man. As one of the great poets said, it will require "the willing suspension of disbelief." Enjoy.

— Carole99

Island of Menorca, Mediterranean Sea, 1558

The attack, swift and merciless, followed a week-long siege, and seemed to come from all points of the compass. Fewer than 50 defenders quickly fell to hundreds of Barbary Pirates, who herded the inhabitants into the central square and began the day-long process of separating the desirable females and healthy males from the unfortunate remainder. They made a special effort to identify skilled craftsmen. By the second day without food or water, the dazed, subjugated captives watched helplessly as the very heart of their town, the young and the strong, marched toward the slave ships.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Senorita Carina Orellana, nineteen years old, retched on the heaving deck for the third time on the first morning at sea. She had long since lost the hunk of bread that served as breakfast. Her vomit joined the human waste and urine that now coated the deck and everyone's clothing. Upon entry to the ship, the men had made them remove their shoes and throw them overboard, and now their bare feet were slimy.

By mid-afternoon, the smell of sweat was the least obnoxious of the horrific odors that overwhelmed the senses. The crew paid little attention to the misery. Several women fainted. The few men who tried to argue quickly fell silent, facing the persuasive point of a sword. The message was clear. There would be no salvation from their grim fate.

Several crewmen passed among the women, looking for spots of blood on the deck or the feet and ankles. They knew that a quarter of these women were in their week of discharge. The women had no opportunity to bring any of the rags they customarily used. Usually, the source was obvious, but if a spot appeared on the deck, the pirate would point at it and then gesture at each bystander. In complete embarrassment, the "guilty" girl would raise her hand. The men guided these women to a separate group at the stern.

In this and many paternalistic cultures around the world, people believed menstruation represented a mysterious evil or a curse from the heavens. The men inscribed a mark on each forehead, and withdrew quickly, as though they might fall ill from the contact. Two female slaves helped the women clean up, but little could be done at sea.

As water and more bread reached hungry hands, the captives realized that the food came from their own pillaged homes. This meager sustenance would be the last contact they or any future generations would have with their beloved island. Before dark, crewmen with buckets unevenly flushed the deck with sea water. They motioned the shivering people to sit. They spent this night and the next awkwardly leaning on one another in abject misery.

On the afternoon of the third day, they spotted the gleaming white spires of their destination: Algiers. Carina recognized the city on a hill from pictures and stories from school. She thought of Algiers as a city of adventure, romance, and pirates, never dreaming of arriving here as a wet, forlorn captive. She was a young lady of fine breeding and rising status in Menorcan society!

Abducting 3,000 people at one time posed a distribution problem; Many ships headed for the larger markets of Constantinople while others set sail for Tripoli.

Upon docking, the crew prodded the men into two large wagons. She watched other men carefully count the captives and sign papers. As the wagons lurched into the city, she couldn't begin to fathom that the shackled passengers were en route to a brutal life of unrelenting drudgery.

Next, the pirates focused on the women, who were reeking and miserable from their own waste and sweat. Most still wore flowing, ankle-length dresses, now wet and stained. The men placed them in a slow-moving line along the outside perimeter of a warehouse. Several men moved among the 49 women, tying their hands in front, oddly, she thought, with bows. As the line moved closer to the entrance, Carina heard muffled screams and sobbing, but couldn't see anything until she turned into the doorway and took in a scene from Hell.

Quickly, a man grabbed her bound hands and dragged her into the large room. He pulled her hair downward and trapped her head between his thighs. Another man stepped forward with a hooked knife and began cutting her clothing straight down the back. He swiftly cut through the layers and peeled the mass around to the front and down on her wrists.

With practiced ease, the first man pulled her back up and around, where she felt the rope and then all her clothing come free. Carina had never been undressed before a man. She gave out a shocked gasp as a gag silenced what would have been a scream. Naked, she found herself lifted and thrust onto a platform beside two other bare women. The brute lifted her with a tight grip very high on her thigh, and then slapped her behind, turning back with a chuckle.

Her tears joined a cascade of cold, soapy water flowing over her from a bucket. Three women, who appeared to be slaves, busily washed the residue from the captives with rags and sea sponges right down to their sticky toes, rinsing them with more cold water. The bath ended as the woman rung out her hair by harshly twisting it from behind before directing Carina's still dripping body off the platform.

At the next station, another woman forced her to squat on a large bucket. From the smell, she knew its purpose. The woman impatiently pointed down, but Carina shook her head. Swiftly, a guard gave her a sharp swat with a thin cane. She screamed into the gag and strained to comply, producing a stream and a splash. The slave reached into a basket and handed her a large brown leaf.

Carina had a fleeting thought about the efficiency of this operation as the woman steered her forward. These monsters would probably run all the women through this gauntlet in a few hours.

The sight of the next station nearly caused her to faint. On two of the three low benches, naked women sprawled on their backs with legs held high. Just before she was pushed down on her bench, she noticed that the women were holding their own legs wide apart under the eye of a man with one of those awful switches. Not wanting to feel that sting again, she prepared to raise her knees as another man approached. He held two fingers up, then moved them into a wide "V" in an unmistakable signal.

With a great muffled groan, Carina placed her hands behind her knees and parted her legs. A blush ran down her face and over her chest. The man noticed her crimson upper body and nodded to the guard as though making a prediction.

He knelt between her knees and gently probed her private entrance. Carina's hips jumped a bit, but after a moment he withdrew, again nodding to his compatriot. They both smiled, and Carina knew they had confirmed her virginity. He indicated that she should sit up. He lightly pinched her chin in one hand and put a finger in her mouth over the thin gag, making her clean him. She tried to pull back, but he gripped her chin tighter.

She thought, as she unwillingly swirled her tongue on his finger, "Salvador! Deliver us from this depraved asylum!"

The smiling man faced Carina toward a line on the left. He placed a hand on her neck and gently caressed a trail down her back, ending with a circular motion around her cheeks and a lewd pinch, launching her down the path. She scampered away from him, acutely aware of the painful pinch and the foul taste in her mouth.

This area apparently held the maidens, two of whom were in line with fingers laced behind their necks. Both were quietly sobbing. A man faced the woman next to Carina and looked her over. He ran the back of his hand over her nipples. Kicking her legs apart, he wrapped one arm around her waist as if to dance with her, but swiftly dipped his other hand between her legs. The woman gasped and went up on her toes. He moved his arm up, bidding her to place her arms on his shoulders.

Carina thought, "He's testing her virginity again? Didn't they trust the first one?"

But the man began a practiced motion, probing her lips and making shallow, rapid plunges. She tried to pull away, but he followed her, pinching her lips between three fingers. He moved his thumb lightly over her button, causing gasps and rapid hip gyrations as she clung helplessly to his shoulders.

Abruptly, he stopped, returning her arms to the previous position. Drawing an instrument from his trousers, he wrote something on her forehead. Carina watched in disgust as he pulled the gag down to make her lick his fingers clean.

The line moved to the right, and a different man moved up to face Carina. He moved close to her face and whispered in her native Catalan, "Si no plores, em trauré el teu mordassa." ("If you do not cry out, I will remove your gag.")

Carina nodded frantically. He untied the cloth and let her move her jaw around. She whispered back, "Sir, what is to happen to us?"

"First, young one, I am a slave like you. I have been here eight years, and I have earned their trust not just by obeying, but anticipating their every whim. You must do the same.

"Are, are you a eunuch?"

"Yes, all men from outside religions are such. We will not speak again about it." She noticed a slightly pained expression on his face. Though she knew almost nothing of men, she realized that being here among so many stripped and displayed women must be terribly frustrating for one who lacked the male amenities. She couldn't know then that eunuchs lost most of a normal man's desire as well.

"What is your name?"

"Carina, sir." He frowned.

"I am Philippe, not sir. I am not your Master. Carina, you saw what the girl next to you went through. I want you to anticipate my orders. They are watching your responsiveness. When I use my hand, move your hips and gasp, so I can write favorably on your forehead. Do you understand?"

"No, please! I can't bear the shame!"

"You must do as I say! They will punish both of us. Do you understand?"

She gave a slight, tearful nod. As his left arm encircled her waist, Carina moved her arms to his shoulders and spread her feet apart.

"Gràcies" He began his manual arousal. His finger touched her hymen and withdrew.

"Oh!" He flicked his finger up and down in the shallow confines of her sex. "Ahh!" She snaked her hips closer to him, on tiptoes. He inserted a second finger, and as she lubricated, he moved the liquid upwards making a startling but pleasant friction on her clit. "Oh! Please! AHH!"

Every male eye in the room turned toward her. Philippe realized that he had not replaced her gag. "Shhh." He breathed a relieved sigh when he heard laughter behind him. His Masters were often unpredictable but amused this time. He let her relax. "You were not pretending, eh?"

Carina blushed again, remaining silent. "As you have seen, it is the custom here to make the women clean our fingers, but I am not going to extend your embarrassment further." He began to wipe his hand on his shirt.

"OWWW!" One of the overseers noticed Philippe's omission and smacked him sharply with a rod. A tear formed in his eye from the pain as he held two fingers in front of her mouth. She made an effort to tenderly lick his fingers, one by one, ending with a light nuzzle against his hand. He took what looked like a red grease pencil and wrote on her forehead. He leaned close. "It says you are a virgin, and highly responsive." He replaced the gag.

As he turned, the overseer barked out an order. Philippe held his right hand out, palm down and received another sharp blow of the rod across his knuckles.

Carina moved to the next position in line, not having noticed its purpose. Her "social intercourse" with Philippe had been quite distracting.

Women in her culture did not shave their bodies. She had no time to react as a sitting woman pinched a tuft of her pubic hair, snipped it off with a tiny pair of scissors, and dropped it in a bucket. Carina glanced down at the container and spied a huge mound of black hair. As she lost her fur, she noticed the next woman in line donating her underarm hair in the same fashion.

As she shuffled sideways to the next spot, she quickly raised her arms in cooperation. There were noises behind her, but she dared not turn around. This woman pulled her hair much harder than the first, causing an annoying sting. Finally, the painful trim ended. Carina looked down at her roughly sheared parts and briefly commiserated with the sheep on her island.

The last station, to the rear, was another humiliating nightmare. Two women were splayed out on benches, getting a final shave. She recoiled from the sight, even while thinking, "Cooperate. Cooperate." But she fearfully jerked back from the woman who tried to guide her onto the empty bench. The woman stepped in front and drew her into a kind of hug while an unseen man behind her bent down to lift her right ankle.

"Whack! Whack! Whack!" Carina had never felt such an intense stinging pain as the rod struck her arch. Even through the gag, her screams echoed through the room. The woman guided her onto her back. She wailed throughout her shaving, her body heaving so erratically that the woman had to stop a few times in fear of cutting her. The overseer had to step in to help hold her legs open.

The woman pulled her up, kissed her on the cheek and whispered a few words in a strange language. Carina tearfully nodded, as the tone seemed to be sympathetic. Before entering the next room with the other virgins, she had to undergo one more inspection. A man motioned that she should place her arms behind her head and place one foot on a high stool.

She quickly realized that she was standing on her punished foot. Her knee almost buckled with the pain. He carefully felt each area that once sported hair. After stroking and pinching her labia, he stepped behind her and ran fingers down between her cheeks. Carina was beyond embarrassment by this time and quietly suffered through the intimate appraisal. For a moment, she forgot her anguish as his fingers stroking her newly bared inner parts produced a pleasant tickle. She realized that, in general, the men here treated her with considerably more tenderness than the women.

He pointed toward a doorway about 40 feet away. She walked as slowly as possible, shoulders hunched forward and hands clasped at her crotch in a vain attempt at modesty. Her fingers grazed against her newly bald mound. It felt so indecent! The very air in the room produced an odd, cooling sensation.

The shocking events of the last three days flashed across her mind. How could this happen? One beautiful summer morning, as she gazed at the fluffy white clouds drifting by her patio, the sound of the front door crashing open signaled the start of her ordeal. A servant foolishly ran toward the commotion only to be cut down by a sword. Five men searched the house and brought everyone to the main hall.

Her family joined a procession of neighbors in the street, marching toward the square. Carina noticed two ladies and a man, completely naked, apparently having been caught while bathing. At one intersection, the pirates separated men from women. Any man who protested the division received stinging blows from a short whip.

Evening found them herded toward the ships like cattle and crowded onto the decks.

But Carina could never have imagined the humiliation of this morning's events. She had been stripped, washed, whipped, and shaved by these horrid people. Two men put their fingers inside her! Her shame seemed overwhelming as she reached the doorway. The bitter taste of her own body lingered on her tongue.

Most of the 20 nude girls in the room were quietly sobbing. Some were curled on the floor in a fetal position while others, arms crossed, stared blankly at the wall. She noticed that all the women wore a thin belt. In a moment, a woman walked up to her and placed Carina's hands on top of her head. The slave rolled up a long piece of red fabric and tied it tightly around Carina's waist, then proceeded to tie another rolled ribbon up between her legs, securing it to the waistband.

When the last captive sported her red binding, three men entered the room. It was Philippe! He stood between two men with the dreaded canes tucked in their belts. "Atenció per favor."

Moments later, he spoke in their native tongue. "Mi nombre es Philippe. I am a slave like you. The Masters have asked me to speak to you about your situation here. Please drop your hands to your sides. Your modesty is not important here. You have probably already guessed at the meaning of your red sash."

Carina felt glad to have the scant covering, but it felt more like a diaper, and she inwardly cringed at its implication. "All of you are clean and pure. This garment is a symbolic chastity belt. It simply serves notice that you are not to be molested, as that would decrease your value."

A murmur ran through the women but quickly ceased when an overseer touched the rod at his belt. Each woman had either felt or seen the effect of the instrument.

"You are not to remove it, or even put your hand inside for any reason." Several hands, merely resting on the waistband, stiffened at the warning. "When you feel the need to relieve yourself, any of these slaves will accompany you. These men are your Masters, and you will now address them as such. Do you each understand what I have said so far?" He cupped a hand to his ear to signal a voiced response. His movement revealed a white bandage on his right hand.

"Si, Mestres!" came the reply, nearly in unison.

"Ladies, there are Masters in other parts of the building. They may not have heard you. Do you understand?"

"SI, MESTRES!" Carina concluded that Philippe's manner was an unsubtle attempt to regain favor with his superiors.

"I have spoken to a few of you about his, and now I say to all of you, the way to survive and thrive here is to be completely obedient, and..." He searched for the right word in their language. "...seductively responsive." He let his word sink in for a moment, and quietly spoke to the men with him. They nodded.

"I am going to give you a simple command that will demonstrate your understanding of my advice. Form a line across the room facing me. These two Masters are going to pass in front of you. You will offer your beautiful breasts to them in an enticing manner. You must do this now, without hesitation."

The overseers started at opposite ends, slowly making their way down a highway of nipples. Most of the women pushed their breasts out with their hands while attempting a weak smile. One Master fondled each tender bud in turn, while the other sometimes used his rod, running the tip across the little jewels. A few women stepped boldly forward, pressing themselves into the men, but a deep blush typified the most common response of these sheltered, shocked women.

Several girls started crying and one recoiled and collapsed on the floor. Instantly the overseer dragged her out of the line by her long hair. Philippe stepped forward to lift her, gripping her from the front. Carina shuddered at what she knew would happen.

The man lifted her right ankle and delivered three vicious swats to her arch. The woman gave out one loud wail, then fell silent as she tried to catch her breath. Each intake made a frightful, rasping sound. Philippe pulled her head into his chest, muffling her cries. The room fell silent as he slowly shuffled her back to the line. He whispered, "You must complete the command. I'm sorry."

Carole99
Carole99
468 Followers
12