Date: Sun, 30 Sep 2007 20:53:55 GMT
From: "anonymous4371@juno.com" <anonymous4371@juno.com>
Subject: FULFILLING THE FANTASY - Chapter 10 (Authoritarian)

FULFILLING THE FANTASY X

by Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)

     The sightseeing in Nicaragua proved beautiful and interesting, about
as different from the sordidness of Leon's slave markets to make you wonder
if you were even in the same country.  Of course, we were sheltered from
the realities of Nicaragua once we were given the opportunity to shop for
slaves the very first day..  The starving populace was kept out of viewing
distance; all our food and drink was provided by the crew of the Fantasia,
and our tour buses and guides were all supplied by the government - a
government that obviously saved their very best for visiting guests.  The
buses were reasonably new and spotlessly clean; the tour guides all spoke
faultless English, were well-fed from the looks of them, and immaculately
costumed in colorful native outfits. Everyone was in a great mood
reflecting on the big harvest of new slaves they had bought just yesterday
at incredibly low prices, even now being fed extra rations to start the
fattening process and then ringed, teethed, and castrated back in the hold
of the ship according to the specifications set by their new owners in
order to achieve optimal resale value.

     But soon the Fantasia left the harbor at Leon to start the long trek
to the next port, the Kiribati Islands in the South Pacific, thousands of
miles away.  During the long period at sea, the hold was busy around the
clock.  Almost all of the Nicaraguan purchases were having all their teeth
pulled by the veterinarian dentist who then fitted them with dentures, many
were being castrated or having a large ring placed through the end of their
penis by the veterinarian on board, many were having rings installed
through their tits (and for some, their nose) and then welded shut, and
everyone, without exception, was being fitted with a new collar identifying
their new owner.  The slave handlers were kept busy getting everyone caged
and re-caged during these operations, making sure the extra food allotments
were being doled out to those so ordered to receive it, along with the B-12
shots and then making sure the new slaves were holding down the nutriment
without complications.  They knew that slaves often had trouble digesting
after not being fed for a long time and diarrhea was just one common
problem in this area until their body adjusted to processing food once
again. Those being castrated or ringed had to receive regular injections of
antibiotics until they were fully healed.  In addition to all of that, some
of the new slaves were essentially virginal, and consequently their new
owners had ordered butt plugs be fitted in them to start the stretching
process.  All of this took time and at the end of each day, the handlers
were often exhausted and tired and often took it out on the caged slaves
who caught the end of a whip quite a bit even when they were in such pain
from the body modifications it was doubtful they felt the whip very much.

     Far above the hold, ship life was undistributed by all of this.
Numerous lectures and seminars were scheduled, the entertainments were all
fresh and new, and, as Mark and John got to know the other passengers
better, the dinner time conversations and comradery in the bars made the
days fly by. John had reactivated the schedule for room use of our own
stock of slaves in the hold which had worked out so well on the long trip
to Nicaragua, excluding the stock most recently purchased in Leon, giving
them time to heal from the tooth extractions, castrations, and various
ringings and allowing plenty of time for the starvation process to start
its reversal with plentiful slave chow and vitamin shots.  This time
around, each of the slaves brought up from the hold knew exactly what to
expect and gave every indication of thoroughly enjoying being used.  Tony,
our steward, claimed this wasn't an act to please us - anything beat being
caged in the hold and restricted of relieving their sexual needs.  Even
being fucked broke the boredom and gave them a reasonable chance of
occasionally being allowed to empty their swollen balls if they were lucky.
Besides, Tony assured us, every slave longed to feel needed and wanted and
what better proof of that than having your body serve as a source of
pleasure to your owner. Tony, a slave himself who had seen it all in his
short life to date, seemed to be an expert in slave psychology, repeatedly
demonstrating his ability to practically read our slaves' minds.

     The seminars focused on the upcoming port of the Kiribati Islands, a
place so remote not one of the ship's guests had ever even heard of the
place. A German colony until Germany's defeat at the end of World War II,
the islands had enjoyed great prosperity as long as their phosphate
deposits lasted.  The Germans had developed the mines, built the processing
equipment, and set up an elaborate export business that brought great
wealth to them which filtered down to the Islanders.  But the Germans were
defeated and gone, the phosphate was all used up anyway, and, over the last
50 years the Islands had sunk into despair and resorted to what they had
done before the phosphate was mined: blackbirding.  Always an industrious
people, the Kiribatis had once and were now again flourishing practicing
their time-honored trade of "blackbirding" e.g., kidnaping and then selling
various South Sea Islanders as slaves.  Now they sold "blackbirds" to not
only near-by Australia, their traditional market for the past two
centuries, but had expanded their market internationally once they were
able to also expand their sources of supply.  Now "blackbirds" marketed in
the Kiribati Islands included most, but not all, of the South Sea Islands,
many Indonesians, some Malaysians, many Cambodians and Vietnamese, as well
as thousands and thousands of the small-statured dark- skinned Keralas of
Southern India.  In some respects, the seminars pointed out, the markets in
the Kiribati Islands were unique.  Here you could find most anything you
wanted that was brown-skinned and had a huge choice among those carrying
the Polynesian body lines and facial features preferred by many buyers. But
the Kiribatis offered no bred slaves - why bred slaves when you steal full
grown ones for no money at all?

     The lecturer stated that dealers wanting anything but slaves with
strong Polynesian features would be disappointed as would dealers
preferring slaves trained from birth to be slaves, i.e., bred slaves.  He
further cautioned that many of the kidnaped slaves would not be totally
broken to slavery, some would still harbor resentment at their present
circumstances, and almost all of the slaves there would have to be
constantly restrained to prevent possible escape attempts.  The mumbling in
the audience made it clear many of the dealers were rapidly losing interest
in the Kiribati market.  Such a feeling was only amplified when subsequent
lecturers previewed some of the markets we would be visiting in Asia
proper, the Middle East, and Africa. By the time the Fantasia reached
Kiribati, most of the ship's passengers were looking forward to the
sightseeing possibilities, but very few were eager to buy up much stock -
maybe a souvenir slave or so to remember the visit, but no major purchases.

     When we sailed into port, the blackbirders were waiting for us and had
their stock nicely displayed in stalls lining the beach for at least a
mile. As the lecturer had warned, almost all offerings were Polynesian
stock: well built and nicely filled out, smooth brown skin with practically
no blemishes, doe-like eyes of varying colors, rather smallish sexual
organs for the main part, and brown or black hair on their head with little
hair on their bodies.  For the main part, they were rather small, although
some specimens were large framed.  The women offered had nice breasts and
thin waists as well as appealing faces, but we all knew Polynesians didn't
hold their looks too well as they aged.  The men, closely chained, had
handsome faces, nicely defined bodies and unremarkable sexual equipment,
but most looked decidedly resentful and rebellious, especially when they
had their balls fondled and the shafts stroked in order to see how long it
took to arouse them to a full erection.  Their chains were so tight they
could do nothing about it but curse at us and moan.  When asked to expose
their holes for inspection, most of the slaves had to be forced with the
dealer's whips within their tightly confining chains to bend over
appropriately and spread their legs wide apart to allow easy entry of our
probing fingers into the anuses which were still tight and obviously unused
amid fresh howls of protest and obvious curses in their own tongues which,
of course, meant nothing to us.  Sales were slow despite the reasonable
prices and it was clear most of this stock would end up being shipped to
the vast plantations of Western Australia, the traditional mass market for
blackbirds and a place where escape was practically impossible since they
would be worked in chain gangs there thousands of miles away from their
homelands and would never again know the feeling of being unfettered.

     John bought just one slave that day: a 20-year-old boy from Vietnam
who had distinctive bright blue eyes and, judging from his above-average
muscular build and light brown coloring, a Eurasian of some type - probably
a bastard child of some foreign soldier and a Vietnamese peasant woman.
John bought him in that, unlike so many others at the Kiribati markets,
this slave featured a long, thick organ which responded quickly to being
stroked despite his deep resentment and humiliation at being pawed at in
this fashion right in front of everyone.  Since he was quite good looking,
John thought he could be broken into sexual slavery, but admitted it would
take considerable training, especially after forcing his finger up the
slave's hole and finding it incredibly tight.  Mark also just bought one
slave as a souvenir of the visit: a small Keralan boy from South India who
was coffee brown, about 16 years old, possessed delicate features that made
him "cute" rather than masculine, and who had a nicely rounded ass on him
with fairly good muscular definition although his sex was remarkably
small. Unlike most of the other slaves up for sale, this boy seemed to be
very meek and humble, even as his body was subjected to the humiliating
"fingering" common in slave inspections.  The dealer offering him explained
the boy was from an "untouchable" caste in his home country, and would lead
a life there little different from a slave anywhere else so he had
experienced no trouble with him at all from the moment he was first taken.
Mark thought he could be trained to service a master well with his nice
butt, and would look pretty and add variety around his estate adorned only
in a bright slave collar with no rings whatsoever on his body. When Mark
put his finger all the way up the boy's butt, the slave squirmed and
groaned and broke into tears of embarrassment and shame.  It was at that
point that Mark decided to have him fitted with a nose ring: it would look
good on the slave and would be of considerable aid in teaching the boy how
to take a deep fucking compliantly.  The boy was so young, Mark thought he
might take on more masculine features as he aged some, as well as gain some
in muscular development, but it was hard to predict these things. Whether
he did or not, Mark thought he would be an interesting ornament around his
estate and John said, if the slave didn't work out satisfactorily as a good
bed buck, he would be happy to sell him off at his dealership.  People were
always in the market for unusual looking domestic slaves, although he would
probably have him cut before selling him in that domestic slaves always
sold better if they were already castrated. "After all," John laughed, "he
doesn't have much to loose," as he fondled the small organs being
discussed.

     All in all, only about 26 slaves were added to the ship's hold (and
most of those female slaves) at the end of the day to the disappointment of
the Kiribati dealers who were told rather bluntly their kidnaped stock
lacked variety and the continuing seething resentment so evident, at least
in their male holdings, was a turn-off to potential customers back in their
home markets.  Some encouraged the Kiribati dealers to put their time and
energy into breeding slaves selectively for market rather than just
kidnaping willy-nilly what they could.  The extra time and capital
investment, they pointed out, paid off handsomely in the long haul - only
then could they consistently offer top quality, well trained slaves.

     Sightseeing in the Kiribati Islands was delightful.  The beaches were
poster-card perfect: white sandy beaches shaded by overhanging palm trees
with crystal-clear blue waters.  The Fantasia had arranged a beach dinner
in the early evening where the setting sun was glorious over the roaring
waves.  The dining room slaves brought from the ship for the occasion were
thrilled to have the sand under their bare feet, the fading sun rays
beating on their skin, and the strong breeze sweeping across their exposed
and shaved genitals in between the groping and fondling they always
received when serving a meal. When, one by one, the guests leashed their
collars and began fucking them on the open beach or pushed the slaves'
mouths to their own organs for a good sucking, the slaves seemed to really
enjoy having their butts sinking into the sand as they were fucked or,
dependent on the whims of who was using them, their hands and knees digging
into the sand as their butt was pounded.  For those ordered to service
guests with their mouths, breathing in the fresh sea air through their
noses as their mouths swallowed the organs thrust into them was a novel
experience, especially as most of them were kneeling in the sand performing
their oral service.  Interestingly enough, most of the guests began fucking
in cadence with the waves crashing onto the beach, giving a lanquid,
natural quality to this sensual experience. When the guests were satiated
and it was time to head back to the ship, even the dining room slaves, so
heavily used all evening, were happily smiling as they packed up the
left-over food and dining implements despite the fact most of them had cum
oozing steadily out of their butt holes and their jaws were still sore from
being stretched around all those pricks. It was just great, they figured,
to be allowed to enjoy this tropical paradise here in the middle of the
South Pacific, even if they were, as usual, on the receiving end of
things. At least this was different and exciting.

     The next day's trip to see the other islands and their volcanic
outbreaks, as well as the usual bountiful supply of multi-colored tropical
birds and unique small animals, was equally interesting.  Crossing the
short distance from one island to another was in huge outrigger canoes,
manned by a batch of Kiribati blackbirds chained to their seats with a
constant whip assuring their shoulders and backs were constantly in motion
paddling us across the lagoons.  The handmade canoes, the sweating, naked
brown-skinned slaves, the Kiribati overseers with their whips of knotted
palm-leaf rope in constant motion, the tall waves of beautiful clear blue
water, and the white sand beaches in the background all gave a romantic,
South-Sea Island allure to the day's outing. By the end of that glorious
day, we were all ready to set sail for our next port - Barisal, Bangladesh.

TO BE CONTINUED

Comments appreciated.  Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)