16th Century Slave Market Pt. 03

This day's bathing included a soaking of faces and heads under the water. As they emerged, a slave woman showed them how to wring out each other's hair before using one of several wooden combs to straighten their tresses. On the march back, drying in the sun on a pleasant day, they noticed a commotion on the platform where the women were cleaning the putrid buckets.

One of them balked, dropping her pail on the deck, splashing waste at her feet. "Refuse!" She was wailing as the overseer started whipping her. She continued to scream, covering her face from the blows. "Refuse! No! No! Refuse!"

Suddenly, a man rushed in from the side and simply pushed her over the edge. She shrieked and hit the sewage pit with a sickening plop. The other women quickly went back to work. Life was cheap, brutal, and sometimes short in the slave market.

Almost as one, a great gasp arose from the onlookers. Some bowed their heads, whispering prayers and crossing themselves. The handlers quickly herded them back to the warehouse. In their circles, they quietly cried and clung to each other. Luisa whispered to Marta, "Have faith, bon amic. She is well. There is no merda in Heaven."

After the midday meal, the guards led four women at a time into an adjoining room. By evening, all 41, shaved from the neck down, sat hunched over in humiliation.

The mood brightened when the handlers carried in bundles of bright cloth and passed them among the women. Clothing! They were simple wraps with a neck opening. At last the captives could hide their shame. The coverings reeked of human body odor. Luisa realized that these garments were brought back from an auction, where the slaves were sold naked.

A little spree broke out as they tried them on and traded them off. Long-absent smiles and giggles marked their brief escape from bleak reality. Luisa found a relatively clean red cloak. Marta picked a light plum color.

Eat. Sleep. Perchance to dream.

Ysabel

"Línea! Aquí, aquí!" This time they faced each other in two lines.

Once again, a "volunteer" offered her services to demonstrate the day's instructions. As the group watched in dread, the guard raised his arms to his chin: "Elevar!" She soon understood the command; she was to raise her shift up to her neck. In a few moments, 39 red-faced women bared their hairless bodies in unison. "Abajo!" He lowered his arms.

Four men in fine robes appeared at the head of the line and began an inspection tour. Ysabel, fifth in line, exposed her body for the men at the signal. A guard nodded, and she opened her mouth widely. She shuddered as each of the men strummed the back of his fingers over her nipples and weighed each breast. As each girl lowered her slip, the men would mutter and make gestures to the guards.

At the end, guards quickly stepped up to four women and, before they could react, hoisted them over their shoulders. They kicked and screamed in vain as they vanished through the door. Ysabel wondered why those women were picked; they weren't the slimmest, most beautiful ones. In fact, each one had somewhat wide hips and an ample bosom. She thought, Deu meu! They are breeding stock! She had seen men single out sheep on her island in the same way.

They would be impregnated, forced to deliver and nurse a baby, but they might never know the life of a mother. Imperdonable!

After dark, hushed whispers concerned their predicament — the upcoming slave auction. They had all read stories of far-off lands and mysterious practices. Some had surely dreamed of being carried off by swarthy men on black horses. Or ships.

Luisa

The idea of shaving their bodies would not even have occurred to these women until this shocking day. For some, even the rape was not as horrifying. These married women regarded sex as just another duty to be performed as fully clothed as possible and as quickly as possible.

In varying shades of fascination and shame, they began to rub fingers over underarms and legs, finally venturing a timid touch on their private spots. These barbarians had even removed the few wiry hairs around their bottom holes.

In the morning, the guards led seven more women off to some unknown work party. Another guard picked three captives and took them to a separate room. After 20 minutes, the women emerged, sobbing and carrying their garments. They quickly covered their nudity but were too upset to talk.

Luisa joined two others in the fourth group. A slave woman bowed down to a man, fervently kissing his shoe. She knelt up, stripped off her clothing, and pointed to Luisa, who hesitantly bowed and gave a light kiss on his foot.

"Ahh! Oww!" The slave slashed a thin switch across her back and pressed her head back down, forcing lavish kisses on both shoes for long moments. When she finally let up, Luisa dropped her wrap without prompting.

In short order, the other two honored his feet and knelt naked in shame. The slave woman began undressing him, kissing his bare skin as it was revealed. Again, she directed the captives to join in. Luisa removed his slippers, wetting his ankles with her tongue and her tears. He stood with arms crossed as the slave began licking the side of his limp shaft. A glance brought Luisa to the other side.

At the first touch, she recoiled at the bitter taste and smell, but a switch cut across her breast set her to licking in earnest. In a few moments, his rod stood at attention. The slave motioned another to bathe his sac while she took the head fully in her mouth, swirling and sucking.

Over the next ten minutes, each in turn took him in deeper and faster, until he exploded in Luisa's mouth. She gagged, turned away, and vomited her breakfast on the floor. She braced for a severe beating, but the guard and his slave started laughing as though this happened frequently. The slave scooped a small amount of his spend from Luisa's breast and fed it to each of the others.

By day's end, all 34 remaining women tasted a man's pungent emissions for the first time in their lives.

The morning brought a new dread, as the guards herded the women into circles again. From the center, a woman and two guards directed the training. The women started trembling at the first move; the slave dropped her garment and placed her hands on top of her head. Fearing another mass rape, a tearful murmur rose up around the circle. Some took a step back.

The guards pointed to the naked slave and held up one finger, shouting, "Mara! Mara!" Guessing the meaning, "Mirror," the women unwrapped their covering and moved their hands.

The men walked around the circle with the little whips, correcting and perfecting. They were not satisfied until all stood straight, elbows back, hips forward, in complete distress. As they complied, the Masters pointed at their "mara" and showed two fingers. She gracefully fell to her knees, stretched out, forehead on the floor. The guards folded their arms and glared. Resistance gone, the women humbled themselves. On the outside, men delivered painful swats, forcing thighs apart. They only stopped when each woman was perfectly stretched and exposed.

From an opening high on one wall, a bearded man watched intently as his chattel formed the nearly perfectly aligned spokes of an obscene wheel. He snapped his fingers as the slave attached to his tool frantically increased her tempo.

The women were were expecting to be raped, but instead, the men forced them to worship their shoes with licks and ardent kisses. Over several hours, they had to practice these two positions and the transitions between them.

Around the tenth round, the guards removed their slippers, requiring the tired women to thoroughly clean their feet, even between the toes. It was disgustingly obvious that these men rarely bathed, but the little whips demanded enthusiasm and passion even in this foul task.

Ysabel

The usual morning meal of bread included a handful of sweet dates. After a trip to the buckets, they lined up for the day's ordeal. A slave woman stood before them in the same type of shift as they were wearing. Two men commanded their attention as the slave entwined her arms above her head and twirled in a circle. The group began a clumsy compliance, but quickly showed a measure of grace as they repeated the move. These women were all experienced dancers.

The slave modeled a few more moves, lightening the mood and transporting some of them back home, remembering the crowded dances in the town square. The weekly event provided a safe place for couples to meet and mingle. Smiles and a few giggles broke out but faded when the slave began moving her hips.

Ysabel realized that their guide had begun the dansa del ventre, the dance of the belly, considered immoral by these sheltered young maidens. To them, it was imitation fornication. Several women froze. One fell to the floor in a ball as a guard set upon her with his whip. She cried out as each blow fell, but did not move.

He decided to drag her by the arm to the center where he picked her up waist-high by the hair and put a knife to her throat, glaring at the assembly. Several women started pleading, "No! Prego, prego! No, Senyor!" He jerked his head toward the slave woman.

"Mira! Imitar!"

One or two started to move. In a few moments, most were clumsily pumping their hips. He shoved his hostage back to the line. The "teacher" put her hands behind her neck and began snapping her hips, front-to-back and side-to-side in a most lascivious manner. As the women tried to follow, she covered her basic repertoire of arabesques and backbends, usually including suggestive hip movements.

After many repetitions, the guards seemed satisfied, as there were no more threats or whippings. They directed the group to sit on the floor to rest. Most were blushing at their shameless display and whispering about what might come next.

The puzzling reason the slave woman wore a shift soon became clear. After two more rotations through the dance routine, she stood at attention and slipped one strap from her shoulder. The women froze. Again, the men folded their arms and glared with scorn.

As they slowly complied, Ysabel saw in their stern faces a memorized line from her favorite classic poem:

"Near them, on the sand, a shattered visage lies,

whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read."

Her mind snapped back to reality when the second strap fell. The slave started her routine again, but this time she began slipping her dress down, inches at a time as she gyrated. The guards walked behind the lines, ensuring compliance with sharp slashes of the whip.

Halfway through the routine, the red-faced maidens bared their breasts. Eventually, as the garment moved past the hips, it fell. At the finish, the woman bent to the floor on her knees and stretched her hands out in a show of complete submission.

The women tearfully fell, their faces and knees touching the wood planks. Unlike their sisters in another building, they could keep their legs together; they were certified virgins.

Luisa

A freshwater bath occupied the morning. Three at a time, the women stood in large wooden tubs, scrubbed with coarse soap and rinsed their garments in the water. No one complained about standing naked in the sun in exchange for clean clothing and a sweet smell, though they whispered about the reasons for their first real bath since they left Menorca.

In the afternoon, new energy seemed to animate the guards and slaves. The women lined up in two lines facing each other. This time the slave woman parted her wrap, holding it with both hands, exposing her body. The men opened their arms, waiting until each one stood as they demanded: straight, feet apart, eyes down, unveiled.

He closed his arms, allowing them to cover up. They repeated the move many times until they performed at his signal as one. He demanded perfection, making it seem as though these shy women were proud of their revealed bodies.

A door opened. A large man in resplendent gold and red robes breezed into the room. The eunuchs immediately dropped to their knees behind the slave, who stretched out her palms toward this man. He stopped to let her kiss his slippers, while the men nuzzled his hands. The women began to squirm, not knowing whether to bow.

The guard faced left and gave the signal. Nearly in unison, 17 captives presented their bare bodies and lost souls to the Grand Vizier, Ahmad Ali Pasha. Between his saucer-shaped turban and his full beard, only his eyes were visible, but the women dared not look at him. He began a slow inspection of his property, pausing to run his hand over a breast or pudenda. He called a guard's attention to some stubble he found on one captive's lips. The mortified man knelt down as though expecting to be beheaded, but the Master proceeded to the other line. His fingers found some abrasion on three more women.

He came to the last one, young Marta, who blushed and jumped at his touch. Pasha turned to the guard and asked some hushed questions. The eunuch pulled Marta out of line and directed her to follow Ali Pasha. She started whimpering as they withdrew, knowing what he suspected.

A short time later everyone heard her screams as she gave up her treasure to her owner. Marta did not return that day, but the captives were too busy to notice. The men sent for three more slave women to begin a thorough inspection and reshaving of each one right on the floor. The tremendous tension of the Pasha's visit and the intimate handling of their private parts made many of their bodies lubricate during the shaving, much to the amusement of the servants.

In the night, even their most fearful dreams would not measure up to the next day's occurrence: They were to be sold.

1611 — "The market, set off behind a gate, consisted of small wooden rooms, fronted by covered terraces where the dealers and customers could meet and chat before getting down to business. 'The show' commences about eleven o'clock in the morning. The slaves are ranged in a line, according to their size and age. At the head of this file walks the person who owns them; behind and at each side, two or three of his domestic slaves, armed with swords and spears, serve as guards.

Thus ordered, the parade begins, and passes through the market-place and the principal streets... when any of them strikes a spectator's fancy the line immediately stops, and a process of examination ensues, which, for minuteness, is unequalled in any cattle market in Europe. The intending purchaser proceeds to examine the person; the mouth and the teeth are first inspected and afterwards every part of the body in succession, of the girls, many of whom I have seen handled in the most indecent manner in the public market by their purchasers; indeed there is every reason to believe that the slave-dealers almost universally force the young girls to submit to their lust previous to their being disposed of. From such scenes, one turns away with pity and indignation."

—Thomas Smee, the commander of the British ship Ternate

Marta returned from her ravishment in time to head up the line. Hours of crying made her face red and puffy. When the group had to open their garments in a final practice, Marta suffered a further embarrassment; there were red marks across her breasts and belly.

Ahmad Ali Pasha strolled to the head of the line, motioning his slaves to remain standing. He wanted to start the procession right away. He affectionately stroked Marta's cheek and walked into the street. With some prodding, the women filed into the sunshine and onto a street lined with cheering spectators.

To Luisa, they looked like the same street lladre she had seen on the dock, but one stepped out and spoke to the Pasha. They negotiated for a few moments, and the Pasha waved his arm in a sweeping motion as though to say, "Make your choice." The man started down the line, passing Luisa and two more before stopping at a short woman named Nuriel. The guard opened his arms in the dreaded signal. Nuriel gasped and gripped the edges of her garment, slowly revealing her snow-white body. He stepped close and grinned, exposing a set of yellow-black teeth and foul breath.

He ran his hands from her hips to her breasts, firmly fondling them before opening her mouth. Satisfied, he moved on to several other captives. Nuriel let out a sigh of relief, but in a short time he turned, taking quick strides back to her, grabbed an arm and dragged her through the onlookers and out of sight.

The line started moving as though nothing had happened.

Luisa trembled at the shocking incident. Three more times, the line stopped to witness more women poked and prodded as one might examine a piece of meat for imperfections. From their shabby dress and appearance, she concluded that some of these men had saved for years to buy a slave.

The last buyer handled his purchase in an especially rough manner, making her bend over. When she resisted, he gripped her neck and delivered five hard slaps to her bottom. As he pulled her out of the line, he stripped off her garment and let it flutter to the dirt.

At length, they entered a gate leading to a large courtyard surrounded by ramshackle buildings. Each had a raised front porch. Luisa noticed activity at a few locations. Three naked women knelt on one platform, reaching out toward some bored-looking men. On another, a woman frantically twirled and danced to the tune of a slaver's leather crop.

The guards herded them into one of the larger structures, cautioning silence. One pointed to a pair of buckets at the rear; they didn't want any accidents on the block. Chatter from the gathering crowds filtered in, along with a few cries from women already on display; these men were not putting up with resistance.

A eunuch pointed to Marta and another woman. As each one passed through the door, she received the hand sign and dropped her garment to the floor. A crowd of twenty or so gathered to ogle the first two consignments, offered for bids sense roba, without clothing or a single possession.

Marta looked out at a sea of black beards and eyes as the merchant began hawking her attributes in a strange tongue. He ran a light hand over her breasts and belly. Marta recoiled and grabbed his hand. He reacted by gripping her wrists and holding them over her head. Laying a red stripe across her backside, he thoroughly mauled every part of her body, making what she knew were lewd comments.

Three men came forward to bid. In a few minutes, one fastened a rope on Marta's neck and led her away into a life of sexual servitude.

Luisa, seventh, dropped her wrap and joined two others on the platform. The initial excitement had died down, so they were made to kneel at the front edge until a new group formed. She could see a number of slave auctions in progress around the square, including some with males. Each wore a loincloth but had to lift it at the whim of any passerby.

Sounds of bellowing cattle and sheep drifted in from somewhere nearby. Luisa thought, Un mercat per al bestiar! Even the cows may speak! A few men, indifferent to their misery, stopped to fondle nipples and slits, but walked on.

Sometime in the early afternoon, fresh faces swelled the courtyard. Two men took an interest in Luisa. From behind, the merchant pulled her thighs apart and invited an intimate inspection. Both men harshly penetrated the gasping female. After a few minutes of perfunctory bidding, one man put his foot on the plank and motioned. Luisa tearfully kissed his shoe. He slipped a rough collar on his property and made his way through the crowd.