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Munster coastline, 1613
"now strip!" bellowed the moorish chief, handing his scimitar to one of his pirates to wipe clean of the blood of the slain Irishmen, strewn
lifeless on the reddened beach sands.
The north African pirates had easily crushed all resistance from the Irish fighters of this little village. The women and children had already been taken aboard a corsair gallery. The aged had been killed. Now all the young men and boys of the village, still battered and sweaty from their failed scrap against the superior arms and skill of the moors, were lined up by the shoreline, hands commanded to be held behind their heads. Tadgh, 19 blonde, handsome and strong was among them. He had fought bravely, as bravely as could be expected in the violent confusion of this early raid upon his peaceful coastal village. But they were beat. No point pretending. But, what? Strip??
"get on with it" roared the pirate again in the garbled irish he had picked up from the enterprise of capturing white infidel slaves from these savage northern lands.
The lads had little choice. Achingly embarrassing though it might be, it was better than another beating from the whips and flails of these heathens. Tadgh and the lads pulled off their sweat and blood stained smocks and shirts and dropped their pants. There they stood, twenty or so fine, healthy Irish lads from late teens to thirty, naked as nature, their dongs swinging out and pale gaelic arses glinting white in the morning sun. One or two- Tadgh included, couldn't suppress the beginnings of rising boners. The pirates either scoffed or laughed when they saw this. These white monkeys were a primitive lot; lacking intelligence but strong enough, and good slaves if they could be properly broken and disciplined.
Tadgh looked to his side at his old pal, Seamus. The handsome strawberry blonde lad of 20 already sported a raging hard-on. Not surprising really. He had been aware that Seamus liked to pleasure some of the older village men on occasion. He was however surprised and not a little uneasy by the effect on himself of seeing Seamus's huge chunky schlong. Moreso by his fascination with that bush of red pubes. Did they run right between his legs to his crack? Tadgh's own man tackle rose irrepressibly.
As he was thus enthralled, the pirates were busy fixing collars around their necks and chaining them, hands behind their backs and to each other. So this was to be the lads fate; kept naked and chained up, shipped as another batch of white slaves to a life of bondage and toil for Moorish and Arab masters in the city ports of the Barbary coast.
A stinging crack across his arse cheeks from a pirate flail brought Tadgh out of his intoxication. The boys were to be taken -- driven- aboard the waiting vessel as soon as could be. They jogged down the shoreline in a coffle, weighed down and rendered awkward by the fetters, by constantly encouraged by whip smacks on their bare white Irish arses from their new masters. Even so, Tadgh simply couldn't help thinking about Seamus's enchanting pubes. He was chained behind him, so he couldn't see. He found himself -- in all this- the horror of a bitter defeat, beating, humiliation and now enslavement, and the even greater horror of the fate which lay ahead of them- longing to be able to see Seamus's pale ass shaking in front of him, and to be able to see if that fascinating red hair grew up in his crack. He nearly caused himself to cu, just at the thought of nuzzling his face up into Seamus's 20year old asshole and nibbling that strawberry hair.
The galley loomed ahead and the rowboats wainted to ferry them aboard. The irons in the stinking slave hold awaited too. Tadgh just hoped he would be shackled close to a Seamus.