Auction at the Oasis

[JamieFraser]

OOC: This thread is not a 'jump in' thread ... but there is room for one (1) more male character (a noble). Please look at the "OOC Auction SRP" thread first to see the theme and characters and discuss your best role opportunity with Angel Baby and the others. You will find that thread at: http://www.literotica.com/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=78727

______________

IC:

"Hut! Hut! Hut!" called Amal to his riding camel, urging it over the ridge, leading the baggage animal behind. His body, head and face were completely swathed in the garb of the region, against the sun and wind and sand that beat upon all travelers alike.

As he cleared the ridge, the oasis town spread out before him in the distance, green and hazy in the heat, palms tossing in the breeze, the smell of water, vegetation, spices and animal dung coming to him on the desert wind. The mud and stone wall surrounding it showed its importance as a trading center. He saw the glint of steel on the ramparts, the guards pacing and watching.

He could see other camels and camel trains in the distance, all coming toward the oasis town. All for the same occasion ... the annual auction of the finest selection of slaveflesh in the kingdom. Girls of darkest hue and fairest blonde, some stolen in pirate raids or won in the fall of castles, some bred in captivity and sold off for whatever reason, some slender or plump, shy or randy or rebellious, some trained in pleasure arts and some yet fresh and needed breaking.

Amal rode his camel steadily, at a trot, toward the walls and pulled up at the closed gate, answering the challenge of the guard on the watchtower. He drew back the outer cloak, revealing robes of the richest kind, and opened his arms to show his lack of weapons, revealing rich rings and amulets of the finest workmanship ...

He explained his purpose, to trade for a supple slave or two to cook his food and warm his bed tent at night, and to pay good gold for his chosen merchandise. The guard called for the gate to be opened, and Amal rode into the teeming marketplace and began to explore the denizens, sample the merchandise, and to ask after the location of the slave pens and auction block.

__________

OOC: Other characters will appear in the marketplace, the Emir's palace and on the auction block as this thread develops.

 

[soliloquy]

Princess Latifa

Princess Latifa paced in her chamber. She was bored to tears. She had already punished two slaves today, and the amusement had worn off. They were easy to arouse--a lick of the lips, a discreet hand across her breasts, and they were ready for any fantasy she might have. She laughed at their pathetic erections and gave them each fifteen lashes for thinking of the Princess in such a fashion.

However, this entertainment soon grew weary. Also, if mother or father heard that she had lashed more than two slaves in the day, they would accuse her of abusing power.

She slumped down on her pillows in a decided pout. What could entertain her now? Her mother told her to embroider. She found it mundane and pointless. Her Father simply told her to "go out and play." Like she was twelve again. What she wouldn't give for a little playtoy that no one knew about. Someone to please and humiliate, punish and reward. Oh, but Daddy would never let her have a slave of her very own.

She smiled thinking, he knows me too well.

 

[JamieFraser]

Amal Strolls the Bazaar

Amal, the wandering desert lord

The bazaar was dusty, but cooler in the shade of the latticework over the street of the vendors, though the smell of the open sewer was stronger. Amal led his camels and stopped only briefly to buy some dates and nuts and a few trinkets, not because he needed them, but because the locals shared more information about the town as they socialized before a sale.

He arrived at the local stable, recommended by the guard, and arranged to have his camels fed and rested. A boy, naked but for a leather collar, scampered up, chattering something. He stopped him, and offered him a shiny copper coin and a bit of bread and oil to show him around the town and run a few errands during the day. The boy ran to ask his Master for permission. The brute took the coin from the boy and cuffed his ears, as Amal expected, and sent him back to Amal.

"Master says to do as you want, but my services are worth a silver piece, says my Master." The boy looked at his feet, expecting to be cuffed again.

"Six coppers, no more! I'm not a sultan, just a poor merchant," replied Amal. The boy smiled and said, "Master says that will do, milord."

Amal ruffled the boy's dirty hair and shoved him forward on the street. " Find me the palace, I must present my credentials to the Emir's secretary."

The boy scampered ahead, pushing other naked children out of the way, making way for Amal, who followed him, taking in the sounds and smells of the market town.

 

[sufi]

Emir

Emir closed the door behind the scurrying bookeeper. He was in a good humor, rubbing his hands together greedily. He turned back to his cool, sumptuous office, briskly pacing so his robes blew around behind his energetic gait.

The food will be prepared by Bin Araby as is customary. The dancing girls, he couldn't stifle a lecherous grin, and musicians are arranged for the afternoon. Emir planned this party every year and every year it was a greater success than the last.

More fame, more fortune for his house. Slave trade was just a part of it. He imported extra food and goods to supply the caravansary for the swell of travelers and made a handsome profit on nearly everything that changed hands over the course of the week long annual slave auction.

Yes busines was good. Thoughts turned to his family and Emir was suddenly depressed. His daughter thought every penny he made was to fritter away on a whim. His wife wanted him to spend more time with her, less time with colleagues. How was he to secure their future? And if he had more time he'd spend it with his newest slave girl, that slender negress with the neck that reaches heaven of course.

Ahh, back to business. Emir reminded himself. 'I must send that Turk a message or he will think I will simply turn a blind eye to his transparent attempt to elbow into my sesame oil monopoly!' Emir went to his desk to write instructions to his strongman, Iman.

 

[papillon24]

DALLALE

The crowds were loud and pushy as the cage that contained me was set with the other slaves. Again I was to be sold for the fourth time. I jumped against the side of the cage slapping away the hands that reached to touch my naked form. They were the animals I was mearly a toy for them. I do not belong to anyone as the few remaining lashing scars accross my back showed.

Quickly I felt my hands pulled back and tied behind me to protect the buyers. A collar wrapped itself around my neck pulling me back against the cage. The iron bars dug into my back as my master held me back for display. He tied my waist length black hair back so I was not to hide my slender body behind it.

"She may be a little tough but just remember you will be the one to break this fireball." he called back to the crowds "soon even you may be able to buy her"

He let me go and let my form fall to the bottom of the cage walking off to drink wth the other men. I continued to watch the crowds as they stopped to look. I felt a single tear of hatred fall from my eye.

 

[JamieFraser]

Amal presents his credentials to the Emir

Amal:

At the palace, Amal tossed the boy some bread and told him to wait, and entered the cool anteroom. Clerks scurried about and finely muscled slaves shouldered bales of goods into place as Amal caught the attention of the head clerk, who received his sealed packets of introduction.

Called into the inner office, Amal bowed before the Emir in a fashion correct enough to be respectful without fawning, as the Emir read the letters under the seal. Amal drew from his sleeve scrolls from his bank in Cairo, attesting to his creditworthiness and warranting to deliver cash for drafts against his funds there. The Emir offered him a cushion on which to sit, a low table inlaid with intricate designs between them.

The Emir clapped his hands softly and a supple young woman entered with a tray of tea and cakes and knelt before the table, laying out the refreshments. She was draped in gold silk and gold chains that left her naked from the waist down, but for the intricate drapings of gold that played with the sensuous muscles of her thighs and legs. A ring in her labia connected them all to her soft and moist sex mouth, and bells on her toes jingled sweetly as she moved.

http://communities.msn.com/_Secure/0NwAAAFcT0gyNVJXSUGzmBEMeLPxyVhtq32qZzzQVriZosXNp1kejfwFR2uLnuGss5fs4!Pq2th5!IsJsSnpRfw/fans184.jpg

She finished laying out the refreshments and then lay on her side between them, awaiting further direction, as the men talked of business and trade.

Amal smiled, sipping his tea and asked the Emir, "How does the slave auction work in your market, and will there be chances to enjoy the fruits of the market with other traders?" He awaited the Emir's response while his eyes enjoyed the veiw of the lush waiting slave, his manhood rising beneath his robes.

 

[AngelBaby]

Amira

I ducked my head, ashamed.

Here I was, being paraded through the village, bare and on display, like an animal. Which was all I was to those men. An animal, ready to be taken and then disposed of.

I was not airy and flighty, like the other girls in my village. I was studious, and learnt all I knew from my father, whom I loved dearly. Our favourite thing to do was to sit and tell fairy stories to one another, back when I was only little.

But that was the past. He was gone, now, and I had been forced to do this. My mother, tearful, had begged me not to, but I told her that I would be fed and sheltered, and would send her my keep. She had kissed me on both cheeks, and then I had left.

And now I was here. Trying to hide behind the curtain of long, black hair, that I often used as a blockout for the world. However, the men who handled us were not so gentle, and would often grab us and force our naked bodies forward. I had seen this happen just a moment ago, to another girl, who seemed to struggle.

She looks strong, and I just know that she will be able to handle this torture. I, however, will not. I am only small, with breasts that cannot even fill a hand, and small bones, which have become more and more pronounced as my family's situation has worsened.

I know I will not last long in this kind of life. I only pray that I am sold to a family who will feed and clothe me well, although I realise that for the type of slave I am, it is unlikely that I will often be clothed.

 

[soliloquy]

Princess Latifa

Princess Latifa was entering as the slave girl was leaving. She smiled a wicked smile at the girl and ran a finger over her lips. She truly was beautiful, and she thought aobut frightening the poor girl, but she had other prey in mind. She kissed the corner of Amira's lips and chuckled as the girl stood stone-stll. She glided into the room where her father was talking to a dust covered man. Though she was careful not to make eye contact, Latifa sized up the strong man. He seemed a bit too comfortable in front of the Emir. She decided she wouldn't like this man.

She bowed before her father out of tradition rather than true respect. "Papa, I have come to ask about the auction."

Her father shot her a stony stare that seemed to say, "I am in the middle of business, be gone."

She remained bowed, a smile playing at her lips as she knew her curvaceous hindside was staring the dusty traveler in the eye. She knew which buttons to push, and she surely intended to push them.

 

[sufi]

Emir

Irritated at his daughters behavior, Emir shows patience.
"Latifa takes her manners from her mother side of the family, low born but dedicated to pleasing me. Aren't you, my dear?"

My smile is tightlipped. When I catch her eye it is to promise to humiliate her further if she does not remove her rear from in front of my guest. As though she was in a position to deliver on what she offered him, she is above his station anyway.

Besides she must be intact for her husband. I despair I shall ever find a man who will marry the wanton she camel.

"I will speak with you about the auction presently. Now back to your embroidery." I waved my hand in dismissal. "Impetuous youth." I smile at the businessman before me and I shrug humbly.

Peering around her nubile hip I address my guest, "Amal, I see you are from Cathay. I know two ship Captains who maintain households in Cathay. Perhaps we have associates in common." This man is a stranger to me but if I extend him credit, he must be the man he says for me to collect.

"I know Jafar at your bank, he is an honorable man, I recognize his signaure on you bonefides. You are welcome Amal, to stay here with my family for however long your business requires. By the way, Sir, there will be a celebration of the equinox two days hence. All the prominant agents in town will attend. Perhaps it would be your pleasure to enlarge your contacts by making their aquaintance." Actually, I keep my finger in the pie if I host their introductions.

My neck is getting a crick from leaning around my daughter's ass to see the man, "Latifa, your presence is not required here, you have my leave to return to your apartments." Latifa remains, bowed, shifting anxiously foot to foot, butt still extended towards my guest.

I rise from my chair, seeing my daughter has no intention of leaving, I must dismiss Amal. "This slave girl (who reclines so delectably) can show you to your rooms and bathe you. Have your man bring your baggage there."

I bow perfunctorily and turn to Latifa.

 

[soliloquy]

Princess Latifa

Latifa chuckled inwardly as she remained in front of her father. Perhaps Amal, as father called him, would see that he does not ALWAYS have control over EVERYTHING. She knew she would pay dearly for her obstinance. Yet she remained.

While Latifa treated her father with faint indifference, it wa only a mask she put on to hide the feelings of abandonment. It had been so long since she felt him as a father to her. Her resentment poisoned her long ago, and she would pay any price for any attention her father might give her. Outside of that, she had come to find that sometimes the pain of punishment was pleasurable indeed.

She watched carefully as Amal was escorted out by the slave-girl. As they turned the corner, his hand brushed the slave's ass. Just like a man, trying to possess something he doesn't own. This rivalry between Amal and Latifa, newborn in her mind, was the next game on her agenda. She would have fun with this man, if it meant many lashings, or more creative punishments her father could come up with.

As soon as Amal had left, Titania straightened to standing, smiled at her father, and said, "yes, father...i will leave now." She turned to leave the room without requesting permission. Her smile disappeared, though it never left her eyes.

 

[sufi]

Emir

"yes father I will leave now", Latifa said.

Emir'smouth opened sure he had something to say to his daughter. But thought better of that and found he could say nothing. He shut his mouth with a clack and he stood there.

"What shall I do with her? At 18 I have the oldest unmarried daughter in the world! All because I spoiled her, that's it! I must speak with her mother."

Emir's mind turned to the auction. It would begin tomorrow when the sun rose to meet the base of the west wall. The slaves are traditionally lined up so the sun will illuminate them brightly and the bidding starts at noon so the auctioneer is not blinded.

Tradition is the word for the bidding. Highest bidder wins. Payment is immediate unless credit is prearranged or deposit made by commercial bidders. Every purchase pays the house 3% and credit transactions pay 4%.

There appear to be enough stock for three days at the usual rate of 70 to 80 transactions per day. 160 captives are slated for field labor, farming labor, and semi skilled artisans. 45 captives are listed as domestic labor, servers, clerks, kitchen or laundry, and skilled artisans. 20 captives are listed as highly educated or attractive enough for court duty or pleasure activities.

Of course the owners can do what they wish but the classes provide rough measue of value. The first bringing a few hundred copper pieces more or less.

The second perhaps 20 silver pieces, at most 50.

The last group really skews the curve. These were typically wealthy or priveledged but not ransomable for some reason. Pleasure slaves can bring gold if dressed well. Highly educated slaves bring the highest price especially if the language is not a problem. A rich widow will pay 40 gold pieces for a handsome warrior who can read and write. Girls bring less because looks fade and they end up in the kitchen.

Emir looks for mature merchantmen who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. These men can take his part in distant negotiations and are proud to turn him a profit as a reflection of their acumen and one time prestige. Emir rewards them well and they understand he will never free them.

 

[JamieFraser]

Amal washes off the dust of travel

Amal, the wandering desert lord:

Amal smiled as he bowed to the Emir before leaving, pleased that the small gift of fine pearls in a sandalwood box had sufficiently pleased his host to win him lodging and a much-needed bath. The company of the delectible slave was even more welcome, as it had been long since he had enjoyed a woman's touch and he had no taste for the boys who so often served in a nomad's camp.

The Emir's daughter was a saucy, impudent wench, indeed. "She'd benefit from a night trapped in the camp of the Emir's guard on patrol," thought Amal as he rose and followed the raven-haired slave girl from the Emir's presence, stealing a soft stroke on her firm buttock as he did. She seemed not to notice, but also seemed to pause at each doorway they reached, allowing him to catch up with her and stand close behind her as she looked coyly over her shoulder at him, eyes modestly downcast.

They arrived at the Emir's baths, a cool garden built around a pool of shimmering water lined in tiles. He moved to the area where a small fountain dribbled water musically. He allowed the slavegirl to remove his robe, his long shirt and unwrap his loincloth, then sat on the low stool near the fountain. She poured warm, scented water over his head, using her fingers to work through his hair with soaproot, then slowly and sensuously cleaned his shoulders, chest, arms and back. Her smile widened as she soaped his powerful legs and genitals, his cock already responding to the touches of a vuluptuous woman in this warm, quiet place.

She used a sponge to slowly rinse the soaproot residue and grime from his head and body, then poured some fragrant vegetable oil onto her hands and began working it into his skin, leaving no area untouched. Again she left his genitals until last, smiling as she oiled each testicle carefully and then the stiff cock, now throbbing with each beat of his heart. She smiled up at him as she carressed it, kneeling between his legs, then dropped her head slowly and kissed the tip.

She looked up at him again, silently asking for permission, and he nodded with a stroke on her hair. She dropped again and began expertly working his cock with her mouth and hands, taking it deep between her lips, her tongue sliding along the vein at the base, then kissing and suckling each of his testicles in turn.

Her mouth returned to his cock, now full and twitching with pleasure, and began a rapid pace of rising and falling onto it, taking it deep into her throat, until he could stand no more and exploded into her mouth with a long groan of long-pent-up release.

She softly suckled down each drop and at last released him as his cock settled and drooped, then handed him down the steps into the warm waters of the pool. She stayed with him, massaging his shoulders and back until he started to nod off.

Awakening with a start nestled in her arms, her fingers toying with his hair, Amal shook himself, carressed the ripe hip of the slave girl, and rose from the bath, streaming water. He dressed in the simple but clean robe that had appeared on a nearby bench and followed her to a simple but pleasant sleeping room, where she left him. He stretched out on the pallet, noting that the boy he'd hired had brought his personal baggage, which had been brushed clear of dust and placed in a tidy pile near the door.

The night birds sang softly as he curled up and drifted into a peaceful sleep.

 

[papillon24]

DALLALE

the sun started to set over the horizon and my eyes fell heavy from the day of being harassed. so many had poked and prodded every inch of my body. my arms ached from the restrainst around my wrists.

The master came around yawming and redfaced from the drinks of the evening. He released me from the restraints and collar allowing me to streatch as much as i could in the cage. Quickly I curled on the floor of the cage to sleep and I felt his hand reach on to stroke my hair and realease the tie.

"You have been a fun little toy to try and break my little Dallalle, but too much for me. I'm too old to be beating you everyday. that is the job for a younger more viral man. For now sleep well and we will clean you in the morning if you behave." His voice was soft as he spoke to me. i just lay silently listening as I fall into a surprisingly sleep.

 

[soliloquy]

Latifa

Latifa fumed. She walked with ire as she made her way to her chamber. Not a word! Not a lash of the whip! If that was how her father wanted it, she would battle him. She knew he wanted to see her married. And she knew he couldn't marry her if...

She smiled to herself. Perhaps Amal is just what I need. Just what I need, indeed. She lay down on her bed and ran her fingers over her breasts. They tingled with excitement. Patience, she thought. She was always patient when it came to her schemes. Drawing them out made them so much better, so thrilling, and often so successful.

 

[JamieFraser]

Amal Tests a Girl's Serving

Amal, the wandering desert lord:

He woke at first light, performed his morning routine and slipped into the quiet streets as the sunlight began to crawl over the city walls. His feet kicked up the settled dust as he moved toward the slave pens, muching on a handful of dates and a bit of flat bread bought at a stall open early.

At the walled compound which contained the cattle, slaves and other merchandise to be sold in the coming week, he showed his credentials to the guard and asked to examine the female slave. The guard objected, saying it was quite impossible, until Amal began fingering a shiny silver coin. The guard looked about, accepted the coin and let Amal slip in the gate, following after him.

"Milord, there are several fine pieces of slaveflesh here this year ... some rebellious like an unbroken colt, some gentle like kittens eager to find a meal ... some farm girls accustomed only to herding goats, others captured from well to do families with skills in the kitchen and at crafts. Others with few skills but wringing the last drop of pleasure from a man or woman, or both. What do you seek, Milord?"

Amal walked toward the tents in which the slaves were kept. Their flaps were open to allow in some air, so Amal could see as he walked past that some were in cages, some only collared with leather leashes locked to deep stakes. All were naked.

He stopped at the skinny one who was only staked out, her ribs showing through her skin, her long black hair covering much of her body. She was muttering a quiet prayer, which his sharp ears just caught before she realized she was not alone:

I know I will not last long in this kind of life. I only pray that I am sold to a family who will feed and clothe me well, although I realise that for the type of slave I am, it is unlikely that I will often be clothed.

"This one," Amal said to the guard, "I should like to examine her alone." Amal handed the guard another silver coin, entered the tent and closed the flap behind him.

After becoming adjusted to the gloom of the closed tent, he pulled up a folded rug, and sat on it, watching the girl as she hastily brushed her tangled hair from her face with her fingers and knelt before him respectfully.

He pulled a small bag of dates and nuts from his satchel, and put a few between them on a scrap of cloth. He drew out a small wine skin and a wooden bowl and set them out also.

"Girl, I am your lord for the moment. I seek to acquire a girl who can serve myself and my guests graciously and sensuously. Start with these refreshments and show me your skills with food and drink. If you are pleasing, I may reward you. But I will also test you further."

He settled in a half-reclining position on the folded rug, supported by his elbow and waited for the girl to serve him.

 

[papillon24]

Dallalle

I awoke to the sounds of whips and screams as the market busied itself. My master suprised me with a bucket of warm water splashed upon my body to rid it from the daytime dust.

Gently his servants brushed my hair and oiled my skin in cinnamon sented oils so it would shine in the mid-day sun.

Quickly he strapped the leash around my neck again and pulled my out of the cage pushing me against the wall strapping me there for display for all the potential buyers.

 

[soliloquy]

Princess Latifa wondered if the auction would ever come to be.