Date: Wed, 7 Nov 2007 21:27:14 GMT
From: "anonymous4371@juno.com" <anonymous4371@juno.com>
Subject: FULFILLING THE FANTASY - Chapter 17

FULFILLING THE FANTASY XVII

By Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)

     It took five full days for the Fantasia to get to Nauadhibou,
Mauritania from Sierra Leone.  During that time, Mark and John relaxed and
enjoyed the amenities of the luxury ship.  The Italian slave steward
assigned to their suite was bedded down by both men each morning, but most
of their enjoyment was with slaves they had purchased along the way and
were brought up to their suite from the hold by the Italian slave, "Tony,"
who cleaned and prepared them for their master's usage.  "Beauty,"
purchased in Mozambique, was a favorite for fucking, along with some
outstanding 'souvenir' slaves purchased in Brazil, Suriname, Columbia, and
Oman by Mark.  But some of John's slaves were also brought up simply to
play with their bodies - mainly a few big blacks from Haiti with
exceptional tits and some unusual light-skinned male beauties he had
purchased in Bangladesh and the U.A.E. who had been especially trained in
oral servicing. Despite all this, both of the masters usually had one of
the waiters at their dinner table gently suck them off while they were
dining, a service routinely furnished by the Fantasia's well trained crew
and once or twice hooked a leash to the collar of an unusually appealing
waiter so he could be brought down to their room to afford them complete
privacy in exploring the pleasures offered by these waiters' bodies.  By
the time the Fantasia got to Mauritanian waters, both Mark and John were
fairly sated with man flesh, even with their chronically lusty appetites in
this area..

     Like Sierra Leone, Mauritania's deep sea harbors had silted up long
ago.  Therefore, the local slave dealers had made special arrangements to
transfer the Fantasia's potential purchasers to their sales barns on
shore. Long sea-going canoes, fitted with luxurious canopied seating areas,
were sidled right up to the ship's deck openings, and once loaded with the
six or so passengers each could handle, were swiftly rowed ashore by well
trained teams of 20 naked and extremely muscular black slaves, each slave
chained in place with an overseer, whip in hand, standing in the back to
insure rapid progress.

     Both Mark and John were excited to visit this strange and exotic
country seldom seen by world travelers.  Both knew it was the country where
the Sahara Desert swept right down to the beautiful blue of the Atlantic;
that it was so arid few people actually lived there but those that did were
primarily swarthy brown Arab 'masters' and dark brown to pure black African
slaves; that slaves had been carefully bred here for centuries both for
domestic use as well as the sole export commodity; and that Mauritanian
dealers took great pride in their disease free, well-built, handsome, and
compliant slaves.  Over the centuries, slavers had bred their stock toward
large size, muscular builds, disease resistance, huge breasts and
genitalia, as well as swift obedience, total compliance to a master's
commands, and complete acceptance of their slave status.

     The port lecturer onboard the Fantasia preparing them for their visit
was, as usual, excellent.  He assured them Mauritania was the opposite of
Sierra Leone when it came to buying slaves: here slaves were assuredly
disease free, bred toward absolute acceptance of their slavehood as well as
huge muscular physiques, and with prices very high, reflecting the quality
of the slaves offered. The lecturer had pointed out that Mauritanian slaves
sold in local markets at prices brought by the very best slaves in the
United States, so there were no bargains here.  But slaves here were of the
finest quality and, if a dealer thought he could recoup the high sales
price in American markets, they might be a good investment.

     The risk, he pointed out, was that Americans simply wouldn't pay that
much for a slave, no matter how compliant, obedient, and good looking they
might be.  That was why you seldom saw Mauritanian slaves up for sale in
world markets.  Only a true connoisseur of slaves who insisted on owning
the very best would be willing to pay the premium these slaves sold for.
He finished his lecture with a strong caution: buy only if you are assured
you can resell them for at least 10% more than you paid.  Otherwise, look,
touch, feel, fondle, dream, even fuck - whatever - but don't buy in your
enthusiasm when exposed to such quality slaves.  You'll never recover your
costs!

     Almost all Mauritanian slaves without exception were bred for market -
captured slaves were practically unheard of in this land and were never
needed.  The breeding operations assured a steady supply to fill domestic
needs readily as well as offer ample surplus stock which could be sold to
foreign buyers at exorbitant prices.. Slavers here took their breeding
operations seriously: selective breeding was rigidly enforced for all
matings on the slave farms; female slaves deemed suitable for reproduction
were kept almost continuously pregnant during their reproductive years;
studs were selected with great care for desired physical and psychological
characteristics and, once selected, kept busy around the clock.  Males
working locally at the slave farms not selected to serve stud (most of them
actually) were generally sterilized if they had access to slave women to
prevent unwanted genes ending up being reproduced.  Outside the slave
'mills.' as the breeding operations were called, Mauritanian slaves were so
carefully controlled that local law decreed any child who had one slave as
a parent (father or mother) was a slave himself instead of the more usual
requirement that only a slave mother could produce a slave. Thus, handsome
male slaves could be bought up by rich Arab mistresses wishing to enjoy
their bodies - any resultant offspring from such dalliance could simply be
sold off profitably as a slave eventually.(It was fashionable in Mauritania
for free women, both married and single, to indulge themselves by having a
handsome male slave at their beck and call.  Such 'pleasure' slaves were
often gifts from their fathers or husbands).  If a male slave impregnated a
free young girl who had become infatuated with his good looks or charm, it
wasn't a tragedy or social disgrace - the pregnancy simply produced another
slave for the local markets, the selling price going to the free women who
nourished a slave's seed within her womb.

     Manumission of a slave was unknown in Mauritania - once born into
slavery, one remained a slave for life, a fact assimilated from birth by
Mauritanian slaves who tended to readily accept their fate as the will of
Allah, and adjusted to their fate accordingly. Such strong religious
beliefs meant Mauritanian slaves were obedient to their masters, docile in
their behavior, and usually happy to serve, grateful for a good master who
looked out for them and provided them food and shelter in return for
unquestioning obedience. In return, slaves were assured a life of
unparalleled bliss in paradise, complete with flowing fountains of cool
water, an endless supply of sweet dates, and hordes of beautiful and
willing slaveboys and girls for their bed.

****************

     "Why are all these slaves showing hard?" John asked the interpreter as
he and Mark carefully stepped under the canopy of the waiting canoe.
"They're certainly well built boys," he added admiringly.

     As the interpreter translated from English into Wolof, John saw the
overseer smile and then reply in the strange tribal dialect used throughout
Mauritania.  The interpreter laughed as he replied to John in English.

     "The overseer says you'd be hard too if you had a peg up your ass.
All of the rowers are chained into their seats atop a huge dildo that
penetrates their asshole.  Each movement made while rowing stimulates them
and tends to keep them constantly erect.  It is not unusual, as soon as the
rowing back to the coast commences, that several of the slaves will
ejaculate from being fucked by their pegs.  It's good discipline for the
slaves and reminds them of what they are.  The overseer says he seldom has
to whip them to get top performance when they're properly pegged.  Would
you like to see one of the pegs?" the translator asked.

     "Yes, I would," John replied as he studied the jet black slave seated
nearest him.

     The translator said something to the overseer who promptly moved to
the slave nearest John and, loosening his chains and grabbing him under his
arms, roughly lifted him a good 12" from the bottom of the canoe.  With a
loud plop, a huge thick dildo emerged from the slave's well stretched hole,
slick with lubricant.  The slave gasped as his hole was suddenly empty.
But just as quickly, the overseer jammed him back on the rigid dildo and
once it was completely back into the slave's hole, tightened his chains
again so he could not wiggle loose.  The slave grimaced as the dildo was
driven up his chute, groaning as his hole was again stretched to its limit,
but seemed to relax into a low moan after it was completely in and the
tight constraints prevented him from wiggling around any more.  His prick
quickly resumed its full erection as his prostate was again massaged by the
embedded dildo.

     "Neat," Mark commented as the other five passengers in this canoe
murmured their approval of this novelty.

     There were at least fifty canoes, each powered by teams of 20 naked
black slaves, lined up to transport all of the passengers wishing to visit
the Mauritanian mainland.  It was primitive but amazingly effective.
Within 15 minutes, all passengers were on land awaiting ground
transportation.
 The black rowers were quickly unchained and lifted themselves off of their
embedded dildos before dragging the huge canoes onto the beach.  They then
ran at full speed to fifty large palanquins nearby and each team of 20
swiftly brought the palanquins, each carrying eight people including the
overseer and interpreter to a loading platform where the passengers again
lounged in soft cushions as the palanquins were hefted onto the slaves'
massive shoulders while the overseer ran a chain hooking the neck collars
of the slaves together.  Climbing aboard, the overseer flicked his whip,
whereupon the slave team took up a swift coordinated gait to the central
slave markets, about four miles away.

     "Never ridden in a litter before," Mark commented above the light
clinking of the chains connecting the slaves.  "It's fun."

     "A litter this big is something else again, Mark," John said.  "I've
never heard of a litter big enough to carry eight people with a team of 20
bearers under them.  The speed we're traveling is close to unbelievable
considering the load.."

     "Look at the sweat oozing out of those black's bodies, John," Mark
said admiringly.

     "Listen to those lungs wheezing," John commented. "What's really
remarkable is that the overseer hasn't had to really lace into them yet to
keep up this pace.  Why, their backs aren't even reddened much from his
whip so far."

     By the third mile, the overseer did have to urge them to keep the pace
up, but his admonishments were mild and almost fatherly, urging them on as
a matter of pride, rather than threats.  The whip flickered over their
backs and rumps for emphasis, but never bruised or cut into the flesh as
was customary in driving most slaves in this sort of task.  Within minutes,
they had arrived at the markets and the palanquins were gently set down for
the passengers exit, the slaves now kneeling with their eyes properly
downcast as the sweat rolled off them in riverlets, their lungs heaving in
unison as they struggled to get their oxygen levels back to normal, and a
look of pride and satisfaction on their overseer's face as he patted each
slave's head almost affectionately, softly congratulating them on their
fine performance transporting the country's visitors to the waiting slave
markets.  Already, each of the overseers was wiping the slaves' bodies down
so help cool them down and help them achieve a handsome appearance while
waiting for the visitor's return as the slaves licked their overseer's feet
as a gesture of their appreciation.

     "Slaves here in Mauritania are born into families," the interpreter
explained after seeing our curious looks at the slaves demonstrating their
gratitude.  "The overseer is assigned them shortly after birth and stays
with them until they die or sold off to a new master.  He is like a father
to them: he feeds them and finds them shelter, takes care of them if they
are injured or get sick, structures their life by telling them exactly what
to do and when, punishes them if they don't meet his expectations, and
rewards them, as you witnessing right now, when they do well.  The other
slaves in a team are considered brothers and they help each other out just
like brothers in a blood family would do.  But the overseer is the 'father'
of each family of, in this case, 20 slaves.  It's a system that works very
well here and means slaves seldom have to be whipped or punished beyond
instructional gestures.  Thus, an overseer has a fairly easy life if he
watches over the needs of his slaves carefully like a good father would.
Also, as you have probably already noticed, little restraint of the slaves
is very needed.  The chains on the canoes and on the palanquins are mainly
symbolic as far as the slaves are concerned, and make a great display as
far as the slave's owner is concerned.  Slaves never run away from their
families - where would they go?  And who would take care of them if they
did?  So where you see chains and shackles on the slaves - it's all for
display.  It's like the velvet on the cushions of the palanquin - just
there as decoration or like the dildos in the canoes - just there to assure
each slave displays himself at full erection for a good display."

     "I doubt if they're too eager to be sold, then," John replied.
"Leaving his 'family' and going off with a new master to God knows what
doesn't sound too appealing to them probably, no matter how much they bring
their master with their sale at the market."

     "Excellent point, sir," the interpreter replied.  "You often see
slaves crying and wailing when they are sold off from their families.  But
they've all been trained that if the master wishes to sell them, then it is
surely God's will, and it is their duty to be a good slave no matter who
owns them so they don't dishonor their God or the 'family' that bred and
raised them.  So, after the crying stops, they invariably turn out to be
excellent slaves, no matter what the demands placed upon them in their
future life.  Whatever it is - it is God's will," he said convincingly,
obviously believing it himself.

     "If, for some reason, you were enslaved yourself, and then sold off to
a foreign buyer to go to a new life in a strange land, would you still
believe it is 'God's Will'?"

     "Of course," the interpreter said without hesitation. "We are not on
this earth to question what God has in store for us.  If Allah didn't want
such a thing to happen, it wouldn't of course.  But since it did happen, no
doubt there are opportunities for happiness in my new life I was unaware of
without God's help.  Every path has a destination, sir, and a path set by
God has a purpose.  If I were enslaved and sold, Allah would insure I would
find happiness with my new owner."

     "With an attitude like that," John smiled warmly at the interpreter,
"I'm sure you're right."

     Turning to Mark, he commented.  "No wonder Mauritanian slaves are so
prized."

     "No mystery to me, John" Mark commented.  "Too bad all slaves aren't
taught these beliefs.  It would make life a lot easier for both them and
their masters."

     "Allah be praised!" the interpreter said. "Another hour or so and I'll
have you both converted to the one and only true faith," he laughed.

**************

     The slave market was unlike anything either John or Mark had ever
witnessed before.  Slaves were displayed with no chains or other restraints
and were obviously treated with respect by the dealers selling them.  All
slaves had all their head hair trimmed, their bodies shaved and oiled, and
all had been allowed to purge themselves, as well as give their prayers,
prior to being displayed.  When a potential customers wanted to closely
inspect a slave's body, the slave was always asked if this was all right
before the potential customer was allowed to proceed. Invariably such
permission was readily granted, even for the inevitable anal probing and
stroking the slave to full erection.  Customers were encouraged to ask the
slaves any questions they wished as to their training, their previous
owners, and what the slaves themselves considered their best and worst
attributes for a future owner.  Customers were also encouraged to share
their expectations of the slave prior to any purchase so the slave's
reactions to his future life could be evaluated prior to purchase.

     Fortunately, the interpreter volunteered to accompany the two men as
they browsed the market.  Both Mark and John were overwhelmed with the
absolute cleanliness, the lack of any odors, the cheerfulness of the goods
being offered for sale, and the polite dignity of both the sellers as well
as those being sold.  They wandered around from dealer to dealer enjoying
the display of beautiful flesh, the cheerful demeanor of slaves being
examined no matter how intimately, the pride so evident by the dealers in
their stock, and the eager compliance of the slaves in reacting to the
demands of their potential new owners.

     "What is that slave saying?" Mark asked the interpreter as one of the
stock offerings, a magnificent handsome black, was being stroked to a full
ejaculation by a potential customer.

     "He's telling the customer he would make an excellent bed buck for a
new master and enjoys having his body bring pleasure to others," the
interpreter smiled.  "I'm sure he's right.  Just look at that magnificent
equipment about ripe to shoot off in the customer's hand.  As a slave
endowed with a body like that, no doubt he is well aware it is his destiny
to have such a body used to bring pleasure in this world."

     "Anything else would be a waste," Mark replied.

     "Yes, and the slave understands that better than any of us," the
interpreter said with satisfaction. "He would see himself as a failure if
his body wasn't used for the pleasure of others in whatever they desired.
Slaves here are taught that from the time they are conceived.  And
remember, fate is a big part of their religious belief."

     Another well-favored young male slave was having his balls massaged
while his prick was being stroked to full erection.  An older man was
undertaking the examination who, the interpreter explained, was interested
in buying the slave for use by his new young and energetic wife who needed
to be kept well satisfied in bed over and beyond his aged abilities. The
slave was being interrogated as to his interest and abilities in meeting
this challenge since, in the old man's view, the woman seemed insatiable.

     "What's his response to that?" John laughed.
     Turning to the interpreter, Mark wanted to find out the selling price
of the slave under scrutiny.

     "$800,000 because of his age," the interpreter responded.  "Slaves
this old are beginning to lose their value in the local markets. If he's
been owned by three mistresses as a stud, he's had a lot of use.  According
to him, that's nine years of bringing the utmost pleasure to an exacting
owner.  Women owning slaves like this put them to heavy use typically.
It's not only expected of them locally as a demonstration of their
femininity, but it just makes sense economically.  Why pay all that money
and not use the slave forcefully?"

     "I'll take him, decrepit and worn out as he is," Mark laughed.
"Perhaps he'll find servicing a master revitalizing after nine years of
constantly bedding down women."

     "The change in pace will be good for him," the interpreter laughed.
"As they say locally, it's always easier to be fucked than do all the
fucking yourself."

     "A strange comment," Mark laughed.  "Where did that one come from?"

     "Right here," the interpreter smiled, "in the slave pens.  Who would
know better?"

     "They have a point," Mark said as he paid the dealer the full sales
price and, taking the leash, fastened it to the slave's penile ring in
preparation for the walk back to the waiting palanquins and their journey
back to the Fantasia.

     "Enough buying in Mauretania?" Mark asked his friend John.

     "I wish I could afford 50 of them, but I can't afford the investment.
Besides, I too chicken to take that much risk on their resale value.  But
what about you, Mark?  Lord knows you can afford anything you want."

     "One's enough from here, John.  I have my souvenir. Besides, it's not
like we don't have plenty of others already on hand," Mark chuckled.

     "Yeah.  Battalions of them if my count if right. Let's get back to the
ship.  Let's see, you were going to fuck my new Mauritanian purchase while
I fucked 'Beauty'.  Then we trade. Is that right?"

     "Not a bad plan.  But don't you want to fuck this slave with a ring
through his prick?"

     "Not right now.  Let's stick with the original plan.  If that doesn't
work out, I take you up on the offer to bed down the boy on your leash,"
John responded, reaching over and jerking on the slave's leash to watch the
boy's long thick prick jerk in response.

     The trip back was uneventful.  The palanquin ride was as exciting
going back as it had been coming.  Both John and Mark thought their new
purchases would simply be leashed to the back of the palanquin for the trip
back, struggling as best they could to keep up the pace of the trained
bearers.  But, instead, the purchases were placed in the palanquin itself
along with their new owners - the explanation being that new owners usually
wanted to explore the pleasures their new purchases offered them.  The same
was true of the canoe ride back to the ship.  After the rowers had
dutifully lowered themselves down on the big embedded dildos and were all
firmly erect, both Mark and John did take the opportunity to play around
with the bodies of their new purchases, stroking them to full erection,
squeezing their balls until pre-cum started leaking out of the slaves, and
playing with their nipples.  Two of the other passengers in their canoe
weren't content with such simple pleasures however and while one had his
new slave suck him off, the other busily fucked his new purchase. As the
huge black rowers observed the action in the canopied area, they squirmed
on their embedded dildos until they began copiously shooting off, rowing
all the harder in their excitement.

     That afternoon, John fucked 'Beauty' while Mark enjoyed John's new and
very expensive purchase in Mauritania.  Mark then had the Italian steward
go down to the cargo hold and retrive his own new purchase who already had
his penile ring removed and was fitted with a shiny new genital band.  Both
men then fucked this blue-eyed and pencil-line bearded slave until they
were totally satiated.  Only then did they call room-service.  But, after
the repast, they again enjoyed the mouths and assholes of all three slaves.

     It was morning before the Italian steward found himself cleaning the
new slaves inside and out and returning them, well used by this point, to
the cargo hold for a well deserved rest.  But he knew as soon as his
masters woke up from a long exhausted sleep, they would probably be looking
for the first ass available and it would be him.  He smiled.  He loved
being fucked by his two handsome masters and he was sure he could prove he
was just as good in bed as any new slaves of his masters, expensive
Mauritanians or Mozambiques or not! Master Mark's new slave had striking
good looks but obviously lacked expensive in serving a man's needs.  It was
obvious most of his experience had been in serving stud to women owners.
Master John's new purchase was certainly a cheerful happy slave, and was
certainly cooperative in everything asked of him, but seemed uninvolved at
times.  And 'Beauty' was mighty pretty to look at, but had a lot to learn
before he became a really competent bed buck.  No, he didn't need to worry
about his masters losing interest in using him.  If only the all powerful
and super rich handsome masters could purchase him from the cruise line
like they were so readily purchasing all that stock held in cages down in
the hold worth millions and millions of dollars.  He'd never heard of any
of the ship's crew being sold to passengers, but anything was possible,
especially with a whole ship full of slave dealers making up the guest
list.  If he couldn't get himself sold to Masters Mark and John, he'd
probably end up entertaining guests like those that occupied his suite on
the last cruise - the ancient Spaniard and his equally old wife who enjoyed
nothing better than beating the steward to get their jollies.  Despite all
his rigid slave training telling him he had to accept what was, no matter
what, the Italian began scheming the sale of his body to the two Americans
who, at this point, had never even thought about the possibility of
permanently owning the sexy young Italian, always willing and eager to
please them in all ways possible!

TO BE CONTINUED

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