SUBMISSION OF A CLAN GIRL

by Mark Stewart

copyright 2000 Mark Stewart

 CHAPTER 1

          The coffle moved quickly along the well trodden path through the forest. The six guards searched the surrounding area for hidden danger, at the same time ensuring that their captives made no attempt to escape.

          Escape was, of course, impossible. The captives were well secured by metal belts around their waists which were, in turn secured to a heavy chain that joined them together. Thinner chains joining their ankles allowed them to walk with short steps but prohibited any chance of breaking into a run.

          Conscious of the danger inherent in the forest, the guards remained silent, relying on hand signals to communicate with each other. The captives were kept silent by the ball gags which had been thrust into their mouths and secured behind their necks.

          Looking into the faces of the captives, the leader of the men was pleased to see the look of terror in their eyes. He allowed his eyes to rove briefly over their bodies. What he saw was pleasing indeed.

          Four young females. The thin garments that clung tightly to their bodies only added to the promise of the beauty that would surely be displayed once they were removed. The lightweight armour that they had worn when captured had been quickly removed as had their weapons.

          For a day and a night the small procession made its way through the forest. At night a short rest was taken and food passed round. The captives'gags were removed only to permit them to drink and feed. Any signs of them making a sound were dealt with by a sharp cuff that sent stars rocketing through their heads.

      The state of shock that had enveloped the captives when they had been ambushed and taken had receded with the passing of time. This had given way to a careful watchfulness for a chance to escape as they were marched away from the region of the forest with which they were familiar.

      On the second day the group emerged from the forest and the outline of buildings appeared some distance ahead of them. Eventually, much to the obvious relief of the guards, they approached two large heavy wooden doors set in a massive stone wall.

      A challenge rang out from high above them and, after the leader of the guards had replied, the doors opened slowly with much grinding and the party passed through.

      The captives were ushered into a building, down a flight of stone steps and thrown into a dark cell. The door slammed shut behind them with an ominous thud. The four women, still in the chain coffle, gagged and their wrists secured behind their backs, collapsed to the floor. They were too exhausted and frightened to take notice of their surroundings. All they were aware of was the dark and dampness. Being unable to talk, each sank into her own nightmare.

      Four days ago they had been cheerful and excited. They had set out on what they believed was a routine hunting trip. Their quarry had been elusive

and, not wishing to return empty-handed, they had strayed far from their territory. They had, mistakenly as it turned out, thought they were well away from the areas patrolled by the Urbans.

      To their chagrin, they had been taken by surprise and, although they had tried to put up a fight, the Urbans'patrol had been too quick and strong for them to resist for long. They were soon overpowered, their armour and weapons taken from them. Then, gagged and their ankles chained, they were secured to the heavy chain of the coffle.

      Dragged to their feet the long march had begun. The men had not spoken during the march and this had only served to increase the captives'fear. Now they huddled together, trying not to heed the terrible thoughts that raced through their minds.

      They were awakened from the troubled slumber into which they had sunk by the door to their cell being thrown open with a deafening thud.

      Two guards entered and roughly ushered the girls out of the cell, back up the stairs into a large hall. One of several doors leading from the hall opened and the four girls were roughly pushed through. They were dragged across the room to where an impressive figure reclined on a throne-like chair.

      The man signalled to the guards and the girls'chains and gags were removed.

      The tallest of the girls stepped forward and looked defiantly at the seated man. "Who are you?" She demanded. "Why have we been brought here like criminals and, anyhow, where is here?" "Silence wench." The seated man shouted back. "You will only speak when spoken to." The air of authority in his voice, and the unconcealed anger, made the girls quail with fear. They had heard many stories of the terrible fate that befell any girl who was captured by the Urbans. "You." The seated man said, pointing at the girl who had spoken. "Strip." "I certainly will not." The girl replied, trying to conceal the fear in her voice. "Strip, or I will have my guards do it for you." The girl looked quickly round. She did not fail to see the lecherous grins on the guards'faces as they took a threatening step towards her. Neither did she fail to see the vicious whip that suddenly appeared in the seated man's hand.

      Slowly, reluctantly, she peeled away her clothes until she stood naked facing the man, her eyes drawn to the coiled lash of the whip. "That is better."

      The man said, his eyes roving over her body, now displayed, "not bad at all. Perhaps we can make something of you, given time." The girl, conscious that she was the leader of her party, fought down her fear and, recovering her voice, repeated her earlier questions.

      She realised she had gone too far as the man's face reddened with anger.

      "You were ordered to remain silent. You must be taught obedience." His voice was strangely quiet yet filled with menace. He threw the whip to one of the guards. "Ten lashes." Before she realised what was happening, the girl was grabbed by a guard and pushed against a wall. Her arms were pulled up and outwards and her wrists locked into two clamps. Her long hair was pulled in front of her, rolled into a ball and forced into her mouth.

      She looked over her shoulder in time to see the guard with the whip raise his arm. Abject horror filled her eyes as she suddenly realised what was to be done to her. She turned her head to the wall and clenched her small fists. A sharp crack echoed round the room as the lash seared across her back. She managed to stifle a scream as a line of agony burned its path across her stretched flesh. In spite of the agony of the stroke, she vowed she would not let these men get the better of her.

      The other three girls, ignoring the danger they were courting, began to surge forward shouting abuse at the man. "Be still," the man ordered sharply, "unless you wish to take her place when her lesson is over." The guard's arm rose and another livid stripe joined the first on the girl's back. The other girls shuffled their feet angrily. They knew the dangers of being taken by the Urbans but, until now, these had only been stories told round the camp fire. Now they were seeing for themselves.

      The girl at the wall writhed, her fingers clawing at the hard surface of the stone, as the lash found her body again. Just before tears filled her eyes, she noticed for the first time that the wall near her hands was covered in scratch marks similar to the ones left by her own fingers testifying to the fact that she was not the first, by any means, to have been stood here and whipped.

      The seated man watched closely as the punishment was administered. The girl was certainly attractive and, once she had been cleansed from the stains of her journey, he thought she might well be worth spending time and effort on.

      Samantha Rema, for that was her name, felt the weals burning terribly across her back. She had never dreamed that such pain existed. Never had she been humiliated by being forced to strip in front of a man.

      Crack! The sharp report echoed round the room. Samantha screamed into the gag as her breasts and stomach were thrown against the wall by the force of the blow. She felt her legs begin to shake as her wrists and arms took the full weight of her slim body. Any thought of pride or stubbornness was erased by the terrible pain in her back. Through the mist that clouded her mind, her brain registered that she had taken four strokes. Only four! The seated ogre had said' ten lashes', she remembered, so she still had six to come.

      "Don't avert your eyes," the seated man shouted, as he noticed the other three girls look away, unable to bear the sight of their leaders' white back being marred by the evil thong. Not daring to go to her assistance, they had all turned their faces away from the ghastly scene. Too frightened to disobey, they forced themselves to watch as the guard sent the lash whistling through the air. A sharp crack of leather meeting bare flesh, a muffled scream from the suspended girl and the scraping of her finger nails on the wall broke the heavy silence in the room. Swish. Crack! Samantha's legs finally ceased to support her and her slim arms took the full weight of her young body. Six livid weals stood out proud against the girl's white back. That none had broken the skin showed that her punisher was well versed in using the whip.

      Swish. Thwack!

      Swish. Crack!

      Two more strokes that sent Samantha's body thudding against the wall. Her head fell back and her tear filled eyes turned towards the ceiling as the hair gag was forced from her mouth and a shrill scream rent the air.

      Twice more the guard's arm rose sending the wicked lash snaking across the stretched back. The guard altered his aim on the last sending the end of the whip curling round her side and the end flicking at the dark brown nipple of her right breast. Samantha, no longer caring that she was a leader, screamed and screamed at the agonising pain that erupted in her breast.

      His duty done, the guard handed the whip back and released the girl's wrists from the manacles. She slid down the wall and curled up on the floor, sobbing heavily.

      "Bring her here.

      A guard grabbed the girl by her hair, sending a sharp pain through her head, and dragged her in front of his employer.

      "Kneel properly before your Master."

      Samantha still dazed and sobbing from the whipping, drew deeply on her reserves of courage and began to rise to her feet, raising her eyes defiantly at the man who had ordered her flogging.

      One of the guards, seeing her intent, took hold of her shoulders and forced her to her knees. Roughly, he kicked her knees wide apart and manhandled her until she knelt, her buttocks on her heels and her hands, palms upwards, on her knees. "That is the position a slave must adopt in the presence of her Master." The seated man said. He turned his head and looked at the other three girls. "Strip and kneel," he ordered sternly, waving the whip at them.

      The sight of the whip, and of their leader's back, was enough to quell any thought of disobeying. Soon they were naked and knelling, immediately adopting the same posture as their leader.

      "Now I will answer your questions. Not because you asked but because it pleases me to do so." The man spoke softly. His voice was still menacing yet he was unable to hide his pleasure at the gift fate had bestowed on him.

      "You are now in my holding in the town of Ethra. I am the lord of the surrounding town and country. I am both a warrior and slave trader. As befits all females, except a privileged few, you are now slaves. You," he pointed at the still sobbing Samantha, "have just experienced a taste of what will happen if you forget your place.

      "My name is Andreas. Normally I buy and sell slaves acquired from the various auctions. Sometimes, as with you, my guards earn a bonus by capturing any of your patrols that stray too far into my domain."

      His words sent a shiver of terror through the kneeling girls. Their leader, Samantha, inwardly cursed her negligence that had led them into this terrible predicament. She silently vowed that, somehow, she would engineer their escape and take revenge on the men who had lit the furnace that blazed in her back. She also was a warrior and would take her revenge. This she secretly swore to herself.

      "You will now be handed over to Highrum who will be responsible for your training. I suggest you learn fast and well. He is short in temper and will not tolerate any nonsense."

      As if on cue, a huge black man entered the room. He wore baggy trouser suspended from a thick leather belt at his waist from which hung a thin cane. Above the belt he was naked displaying heavily muscled arms and torso. The very sight of him filled the girls with fresh terror.

      "These are your new charges," Andreas informed him. "See that they are taught well and quickly and don't forget to introduce them to your stable in the usual way. Her also," he added, seeing the questioning look in the black's eyes as he surveyed Samantha's back.

      "Follow me, slaves," Highrum ordered in a deep authoritative voice.

      Completely overwhelmed by his presence, the four girls rose to their feet and followed the black from the room. Outside they found two more half-naked black men who manacled each girl's left wrist to a length of chain. With other men on each end of the chain, they were led along a corridor, out of the building and across an open yard.

      They stopped in front of another windowless building where Highrum unlocked a heavy door. The small procession passed through into a large hallway. The door was locked behind them.

      The building, they later discovered, was in the room of a large hollow square. It was out into this square they were ushered and made to stand with their backs to a wall to which the ends of the chain were attached.

      "This is the training stable. Here you will be taught the duties of a slave and all that is required of you to please a Master." Highrum's deep voice vibrated round the square as he stood facing them.

      "There is no escape. You will obey at all times and you will be diligent and learn fast or you will earn my deep displeasure." He paused and looked at his charges. "First, however, you must be introduced to your new status as slaves."

      Highrum looked carefully at the line of naked females that were now in his charge. It was his task to ensure that, in the shortest time possible, they would be sufficiently trained to be put up for sale.

      "What is your name?" he asked, pointing at one of the girls.

      "Judy Daleson," the girl replied sullenly.

      "You will address me, and all men, as Master," he shouted.

      "You will only be known as Judy from now on. Understand?"

      "Yes," Judy replied then added quickly "Master."

      "I'll have you first. Perhaps this will teach you to answer properly in future." He turned to his assistants. "Prepare her."

      Two of his men released Judy from the chain and marched her towards where Highrum waited. The girl saw a thick post, a metre high sunk into the ground with another thick beam fixed across the top. The sight of this, and Highrum unclipping the long cane from his belt, left Judy in no doubt what was in store for her.

      She began to struggle fiercely but her efforts against the muscular black men were in vain. In seconds she was bent over the horizontal top beam and her wrists and ankles strapped to the base of the upright.

      The other girls watched in horror as Highrum first flexed the cane between his huge hands then brought it swishing down across Judy's taut bottom.

      The sharp crack of rattan meeting flesh echoed round the courtyard.

      "Aaaarrgghhh!" A long drown out cry of agony followed the report of the stroke. Judy shook her head in disbelief at the pain that erupted in her buttocks. Her long raven hair swept the ground sending up a small shower of dust. Highrum gave a satisfied smile as he saw a thin white line etched the full width of the girl's cheeks. A white line that quickly turned into familiar red tramlines.

      Samantha cursed quietly under her breath as she watched the cane bite into her colleague's bottom nine more times. Judy writhed as each cut into her. She was ashamed at the way she was unable to control the screams that each stroke wrung from her tortured body.

      At last her ordeal was over. The assistants released her bonds and dragged her back to her position at the wall where they made her kneel with her knees wide spread. Fear of another beating forced her to maintain this embarrassing position.

      "Your name?" Highrum demanded, pointing at the next girl in line.

      "Jacqueline, Master," the girl answered. She realised that she was to take Judy's place and thought that by answering as the man wanted she would please him and he would go lightly on her.

      She was soon disillusioned as, once secured in place, she felt the rattan lashed across her tender buttocks ten times. Sobbing with pain and humiliation she was returned to her place, kneeling with her knees spread and her face and short blonde hair soaked with her tears.

      The third girl, the long brown haired Stephanie Lang, was next to receive her ten strokes. She writhed and screamed with each stroke, her long hair sweeping the ground as she shook her head from side to side as the pain in her bottom increased with each stroke.

      The guards returned Stephanie to the wall where she also was made to kneel, spreading her knees wide.

      Highrum pointed the cane at Samantha. "Now you."

      Samantha, not believing she would be caned on top of the whipping she had received, hesitated a moment too long for Highrum's liking. "Five extra strokes," he said, "for slowness in obeying an order!"

      Samantha, choking down the hatred that welled up inside her, shrugged off the guard's hands and walked to the post. A deep moan escaped her lips as the pain in her back was rekindled when her arms were pulled to the base of the post and secured.

      Crack! Again the report of the rattan striking bare flesh echoed round the courtyard. Ashamed of the way she had screamed under the whip, Samantha gritted her teeth as a line of fire erupted in her buttocks.

      The cane lashed her bottom as another searing stroke was laid on. Again she remained silent. She was a leader of a troop and would show these men that she would not give in to their domination.

      Crack!

      As the pain built in her buttocks, Samantha bit her lips hard to hold back her cries and swore to herself that she would escape from this hell-hole at the very first opportunity.

      Thwack!

      Escape and take revenge on the man who was thrashing her and on he who, no doubt, had ordained the beating.

      Crack!

      Samantha writhed in pain. She tried to rub her thighs together and clench and unclench her buttocks. Anything to ease the terrible pain in her bottom. She felt a surge of pride as she realised she had now taken five strokes in silence.

      Thwack!

      The sixth stroke added to the fire in her bottom and drew a shrill scream from her lungs.

      Crack!

      Thwack!

      The punishing rod lashing her bottom sent new waves of pain through her cheeks. Now the strokes were falling on previous ones making the agony even worse.

      Swish. Thwack!

      Swish. Crack!

      The two strokes in quick succession, aimed at the soft area just above the join of her thighs and buttocks, sent two more screams echoing round the courtyard. Whilst her body wriggled and writhed in pain her brain, which was somehow keeping count informed her that she was two thirds of the way through her ordeal.

      Highrum, who had been watching the girl's performance under the rod carefully, sensed there was still a streak of defiance showing in the writhing body. He gripped the cane tight.

      Crack!

      An even sharper report echoed round the courtyard as Highrum put his full weight behind the stroke. A shriller scream was forced from the suffering girl as a thin line of red showed over the darker weals.

      The thin sheen of moisture that had, until now glowed in the sunlight, suddenly turned into heavy beads of sweat that flowed from the beaten body. Rivulets flowed down her pendant breasts to drop from her nipples forming puddles with the tears on the ground around her.

      Determined to break the girl, Highrum laid on two more vicious strokes that sent thin lines of red creeping over her writhing buttocks. Despite the pain and the fog that seemed to cloud her mind, Samantha realised Highrum's intentions. This knowledge added fuel to her determination. He would not break her.

      Thwack!

      Thwack!

      Smothering a sneaking regard for the girl's courage, Highrum lashed the rattan across the writhing buttocks for the last two strokes making each draw a thick line of red to mark its path.

      Samantha never could explain how but she managed not to scream as these last strokes sent sheets of pain through her cheeks.

      At last her ordeal was over and she was returned, shaking and sobbing violently, to kneel beside her friends, moaning as her heels dug into her tortured buttocks.

      Under Highrum's instructions, the guards led the four girls from the courtyard. Stumbling, trying not to jar their throbbing buttocks, the girls were led into the building and into a wash room. Here, several older women took charge of the girls and ordered them into a large sunken bath where they were ordered to scrub themselves clean.

      At first the hot water aggravated their weals, especially those on Samantha's back, but gradually it had a soothing effect and the girls began to find it not unpleasant. It was a relief to wash away the dirt of their journey and the ordeal of their beatings and feel clean again.

      Much to their dissatisfaction, they were not allowed to languish in the bath. They were ordered out and made to dry each other. Then the guards marched them out, along a short passage and pushed them into a cell. The door was slammed shut, the sound echoing ominously round the walls.

      As soon as they were sure they were alone, the four girls came together seeking solace in each others arms.

      Eventually they disentangled themselves and looked round the cell. The only light, which came from a barred window set high in one wall, showed that the cell was unfurnished save for some rugs on the floor and a bucket in one corner.

      For some time they were silent, each enveloped in a feeling of doom, until Samantha called them together in a corner farthest from the door. Here, they began to talk in whispers, trying to console each other.

      As the leader, Samantha soon exerted her authority. They would escape as soon as the opportunity presented itself. In the meantime, they would be docile and obedient and try to please Highrum and his minions. In this way, Samantha explained, they would hopefully lull their tormentors into slackness and at the same time avoid being beaten.

      Little did they know then that, not only was escape impossible, but the beatings they had received were very mild compared with what the future held in store for them.

  Chapter 2

      The following morning the girls were awaked from the troubled slumber in which they had taken refuge. The door to their cell opened and Highrum and several of his black minions entered. They released the girls from the chains by which they had been secured.

      Remembering what had been done to Samantha for speaking without permission the girls remained silent.

      The guards fixed a shiny metal band round each girl's waist from which hung a long thin chain. By this chain the minions led the girls to the wash room where they had bathed the previous day. Here they were again ordered to wash themselves thoroughly all over.

      They were then given a blow of thick gruel. Not having fed for some time, the girls were ravenous and quickly devoured the tasteless mess.

      "That will be your staple diet," Highrum explained as he saw the looks of disgust on their faces at the fare. "That is unless you please the Master enough to earn some sweetmeats."

      Having eaten, the girls were shepherded into an adjoining room where two older women waited. Under their supervision, the girls were ordered to apply cosmetics and scent. In the face of what she considered to be a demeaning order, Samantha forgot her resolve and nearly refused to apply the cosmetics but, conscious of the soreness in her back and bottom, just stopped herself in time.

      When their hair had been brushed thoroughly, Highrum inspected them closely. Satisfied with the result, he informed them they were to be taken before their Master and instructed on how they were to conduct themselves in his presence.

      Preceded by Highrum, the minions led the girls from the building, across the courtyard where their beatings had taken place, and into the main building. Eventually they were halted before an ornately decorated door. Leaving them outside Highrum entered.

      A few minutes later the door opened and the girls were ushered in. They were led across a deep pile carpet until they stood before a throne on which Andreas reclined.

      Obeying Highrum's instructions the girls knelt, spreading their knees wide. Their Master smiled to himself as he noticed the flush of embarrassment on the girls' faces. He looked them over carefully.

      "Not bad. Not so bad after all," Andreas mused, then turned to Highrum. "What do you think?"

      "They have improved with washing, my Lord," the black man said. "With your agreement, I think they can be turned to your profit."

      "Yes I believe you are right," Andreas replied. "The slaves Samantha and Judy move well. I think they may make passable dancers. The other two do not display such promise, they will only be trained as pleasure slaves."

      "Excellent choice my Lord."

      "See that their education begins immediately. The sooner they are ready for sale the better. See to it that they work hard. Any slackness, you know what to do."

      "Your ordered will be obeyed, My Lord." Highrum's hand stroked the cane that hung from his belt.

      Seeing this unconscious movement Andreas added quickly. "Punish them as necessary, but do not scar their bodies. At the moment that is all they have to commend them."

      "Of course, my Lord. Their value is safe in my hands. Rise slaves. Follow me."

      Conscious that their rear views already bore the marks of Andreas's ownership, the girls rose, turned, and followed Highrum from the room.

      The procession crossed the courtyard and entered yet another building. Here the girls were taken to a large room, completely bare of furniture.

      "This is where your lessons will take place," Highrum informed the girls as they looked round the room.

      "Kneel in a row against that wall." He pointed to the wall opposite the door by which they had entered.

      "The first lesson you will learn is that you are now slaves. Slaves of little value, even less than the animals in the Master's stable. Your sole purpose in life is to please whichever Master may be unfortunate enough to own two at the time."

      Highrum studied the kneeling females as he paused. He did not fail to notice a shiver of dread pass over their bodies. Fear, he knew, was a good teacher.

      "You will not speak until spoken to or without first begging, yes begging, permission. You will always address all men, even my assistants as Master. Failure to give perfect satisfaction at all times will result in a sound beating. The episode in the courtyard yesterday was but a slight sample of what is in store for you."

      Highrum raised his hand and the silence in the room was shattered as one of his minions cracked a whip in the air making the girls nearly jump our of their skins with fear.

      "For the first lessons you will be in charge of Naomi. She will teach you how to walk and move in a manner to please masters. You will learn quickly and obey Naomi at all times."

      Again the room echoed to the sound of the cracking of the whip.

      "Next will follow lessons in how to give pleasure to a man. Lianne will instruct you in this. You will practice on a masked male slave. In no way are you permitted to communicate with him. Remember, the lessons are to teach you to please a master, not to get pleasure for yourselves.

      "Yasmin will be responsible for teaching the slaves Samantha and Judy to dance. Whilst that is going on you other two will be given lessons to improve your value."

      Highrum signalled to one of his men who left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a dark skinned young woman in tow. The newcomer was naked and her limbs and body rippled as she walked to Highrum and knelt in front of him.

      "This is Sheena," he informed the slaves. She will see to it that you are thoroughly exercised before your lessons begin. A supple body is necessary if your teaching is to be of any use. She will start straight away. Remember, obey her."

      Highrum stalked from the room, leaving the slaves alone with Sheena except for one of his minions who went and sat cross-legged against a wall, a long thin cane on the floor at his side.

Thus the slaves' training began.

 Chapter 3

      For seven days, from early morning to late evening, Sheena exercised the girls. At first their bodies rebelled as muscles, until now hardly ever used, were awakened and toned to a fine pitch.

      To begin with the girls found the exercises hard and difficult and they did not perform well. This earned them many sharp cuts with a cane administered by whichever of Highrum's minions was on duty at the time.

      As the stiffness eased, the girls' bodies became supple and more fluent in their movements. Sheena was a thorough teacher and very strict with the slaves under her control. As the week progressed the exercises became more strenuous.

      The four girls began to hate her, especially when they were returned to their cell at night, their bodies aching in every muscle so that they fell into an exhausted sleep as soon as they lay on the rugs.

      Their hatred, however, became tempered when, one morning, they noticed that Sheena's firm buttocks bore the marks of a sound thrashing. When the guard's attention was distracted by a noise outside the room, Samantha risked whispering to Sheena and asked her what she had done to deserve the beating.

      "Highrum decided I was not pushing you hard enough," Sheena whispered back. "He gave me eighteen stroked of the switch."

      The four slaves, realising that Sheena was subject to the same discipline as themselves, made sure that Highrum's minions did not have the opportunity to complain again.

      The seven days of intensive exercises eventually passed. The slaves' bodies had changed noticeably. They were more supple. Their breasts had firmed and their waists narrowed seductively. Their legs, once those of sturdy warriors were now more shapely and feminine.

      On the eighth morning, they were again displayed naked for Andreas's inspection. As they knelt, knees spread before him, their Master surveyed them with a critical eye.

      One by one they were ordered to rise and walk round the room. Sheena, who had been ordered to be present, made them repeat certain of the exercises to show off their bodies.

      Andreas watched all this in silence until the slaves again knelt before him.

      "You have done well, Sheena," he said at last. "They have improved and show promise of becoming more than just kitchen slaves."

      "Thank you Master," Sheena replied, relieved that her Master was satisfied with her work.

      "I understand that Highrum had to discipline you for not working them hard enough. That should not have been necessary, should it?"

      "No Master."

      "Go now. Send Naomi to me."

      "Yes Master." Sheena turned and walked towards the door.

      "Sheena," Andreas called to her just as she opened the door. "After you have found Naomi, find one of Highrum's assistants and ask him for another twelve strokes."

      "Yes Master." Sheena's face paled as she turned and left. Some minutes passed until the door opened and Naomi walked in. She halted in front of Andreas and knelt. The slaves, seeing her for the first time, were taken aback.

      Naomi was considerably older than them. She wore her hair cropped short and there was a distinct

no-nonsense look on her stern face.

      "This is Naomi." Andreas addressed the slaves. "She will teach you how to deport yourselves in a manner to please a master. Again you will obey her as you would me."

      At a signal from her Master, Naomi rose and approached Highrum who was standing to one side of the room. He handed her the cane from his belt.

      "Stand slaves." Naomi's voice was deep and full of unexpected authority from a slave. "Form a line, six paces apart, face your Master. Bend, hold your ankles and do not move until given permission."

      The slaves, wondering what was to happen, obeyed.

      Slowly Naomi walked down the line behind them, looking carefully at the slaves' stretched buttocks. At the end of the line she turned and began to retrace her steps. As she passed behind each girl, she raised her arm and gave each pair of cheeks two sharp singeing strokes with the cane.

      Samantha was surprised at the force Naomi put behind the strokes but, apart from a sharp intake of breath, none of the four slaves made a sound or moved. This brought a smile to Andreas's lips. They were becoming accustomed to their new status!

      "Show your behinds to your Master, then follow me," Naomi ordered.

      The slaves obeyed and, as they walked behind her, did not fail to notice that Naomi still had Highrum's cane in her hand. She led them away and into the room where the exercises had been held.

      Another seven days passed under Naomi's tuition. She taught the slaves how to walk with short steps, how to stand tall and straight, and many other movements all designed to make their bodies more seductive and pleasing to a master.

      Whereas the days under Sheena's control had physically exhausted the slaves, they found the deportment exercises far less taxing. They had to mentally concentrate, going over each part of the lesson many times, until Naomi was satisfied. Any lapse on their parts earned them a sharp cut from the cane that Naomi always had ready in her hand.

      At night, once back in their cell, Samantha took advantage of the easier regime and, instead of falling instantly asleep, she began to converse in low whispers with her friends.

      Plan after plan was discussed, each with the object of escaping and returning to their clan. Each plan that came to mind ended up being discarded for one reason or another. The slaves had no illusions that escape would be easy. The building was to well guarded and as each idea was dropped, they grew more despondent.

      The days under Naomi's instruction came to an end and, once again, they found themselves kneeling naked before their Master.

      The slaves listened as first Naomi then Highrum reported on their progress. After asking many questions of the pair, Andreas appeared satisfied and dismissed Naomi.

      Then, under Highrum's direction, the slaves were made to move around the room, stand and adopt the various postures they had been taught, until finally they were ordered to kneel.

      "What do you think, Highrum?" Andreas enquired. "Are they ready for the next stage in their training?"

      "If the original plans remain unaltered, My Lord, I believe they are."

      "Good. They will be handed over to Lianne. She will instruct them in ways to give pleasure. You may have the use of any of the male slaves. See to it though that neither the men nor the girls themselves get pleasure. The girls especially."

      "Naturally, My Lord. Either I or one of my assistants will be present at all times. Your instructions will be carried out, I assure you."

      The four slaves followed Highrum back to the classroom where Lianne awaited.

      Lianne was a very pretty, petite girl with long flowing hair tied in a pony-tail. She was dressed in a transparent smock that seemed to emphasise the delicious contours of her small body.

      The slaves hardly noticed Lianne at first because of the sight that held their eyes and made them shudder in horror. Previously the classroom had been devoid of any furniture. Now, in the centre of the room was a naked man. His feet were spread wide and tied to rings in the floor. His arms were stretched out and upwards and tied to ropes suspended from the ceiling.

      The man had a magnificent body, rippling with muscles. His head was covered with a hood so that his features were obscured from their sight. The slaves' eyes took all this in at a glance then fastened on the junction of his thighs. A mass of dark brown hair failed to hide his thick flaccid penis that hung in front of the heavy sac of his scrotum.

      Highrum ordered the slaves to kneel facing the suspended figure and introduced them to Lianne. 

      "These are the slaves that you are to teach," Highrum said, looking sternly at Lianne. "It is the Master's wish that they learn thoroughly and quickly. Any suspicion that their lessons are not progressing to my satisfaction will earn them a thrashing and you a whipping. Is that clear?"

      "Yes Master," Lianne responded. Her voice was low and seductive, matching the promise of her body.

      Highrum, with all but one of his assistants, went and sat on the floor at the side of the room. The other uncoiling a whip that hung from his belt, stood behind the suspended man.

      Lianne, picking up a long thin cane from the floor, moved between the man and the kneeling slaves. Using the cane as a pointer she began to indicate the sensitive parts of the man's legs and body. At the first touch of the cane on his flesh, the man began to squirm in his bonds.

      Highrum's assistant lashed the whip across the man's back. "Keep still" he commanded.

      The lesson went on for some time. Lianne questioned the slaves frequently, making sure they were understanding and taking in her words. After the first lash of the whip, the man remained perfectly still.

      "Now I will show you how you can tell whether your efforts are pleasing to your Master," Lianne said. She stooped and picked up a long feather from the floor. Gently she began to stroke the inside of the man's thighs and slowly moved up until the end of the feather tickled his sac and penis.  

      A loud groan sounded from behind the hood, followed by the report of the lash on his back.

      Samantha shuddered in horror. She had no love for the male sex, her upbringing in the Clan had taught her to despise men, but she couldn't help  feeling sympathy for the man. It did not seem right that he should be tormented in this way.

      Slowly but surely the flaccid penis began to swell and stand out proud from the man's body. Samantha watched in dreadful fascination. She could hardly believe her eyes as the thing continued to grow. The muscles of the man's body strained but he was unable to prevent the reaction to the titillation that Lianne was inflicting on him.

      "That is how you must make a Master's body respond to your efforts." Lianne's soft voice failed to hide the satisfaction at the man's response.

      She went on to describe the many ways a slave could achieve the same effect and what she must do then to bring her Master to a climax of satisfaction.

      Samantha paid close attention to Lianne's teaching. It had dawned on her early that, if she could have this kind of effect on a master, it might be used to her advantage. A feeling of revulsion tainted her feeling of power when Lianne began to explain how a slave should use her tongue and mouth to excite a man. The thought of taking a man's penis into her mouth nearly made her sick on the spot.

      But, if she was to gain power in this way, she must overcome her revulsion at all costs.

The third day under Lianne's instruction saw a change intended as before, the man was lying spread-eagled on a divan, his hands and feet tied to posts at each corner.

      One by one, the four girls were led to the foot of the divan. Following Lianne's instruction, each took turns to kneel and lick softly at the inside of the man's ankles and calves. When her turn came, Samantha was pleased as the man's legs began to quiver under her attentions. She noticed a faint musky smell coming from him as his arousal began.

      When they were ordered to move above the man's knees to the inside of his thighs, his body stiffened as he fought hard not to respond, but still his penis reacted as when Lianne had tickled him with the feather.

      The fourth day of the instruction brought the dreaded moment when Lianne ordered them to take the now erect penis into their mouths. All four of them gagged at first but the pain of a few strokes of Highrum's cane across their buttocks made them follow orders.

      When Samantha's turn came, the burning in her bottom from the cane was soon forgotten as she felt the man reluctantly responding to her attention. Determined to learn how to put a man in her power in this way, she had been most attentive to Lianne's instruction. She felt a surge of satisfaction as the object in her mouth seemed to come to life and throb and her finger felt his heavy sac become damp with his desire.

      The final day came and another change. Four divans were in the classroom each with a naked man secured to it. The girls were each led to a divan and ordered to practise what they had learnt. Lianne went from one to the other correcting here and praising there.

      Samantha used all she had learned well and soon had the man groaning and gasping under her attentions. She became so carried away with her aptitude that she forgot the strict order that had been given. Not to let her victim climax. She had been working on the man for some time, feeling him tense and squirm, and enjoying the power that she felt welling up inside her.

      Her tongue had been stroking his penis for some time and her fingers exciting the heavy sac. Her mouth closed over his member as her lips moved up and down the shaft, feeling the swollen crown at the back of her throat.

      Suddenly, to her surprise, the shaft began to throb and the man's body shuddered violently. Unaware of what was about to happen, Samantha jerked her head back and away from the man's groin.

      Highrum, intrigued by Samantha's aptitude, had leaned over her shoulder to see more closely. As Samantha's head jerked back, he looked straight at the swollen crown as the slit widened and the man's semen squirted straight into his face.

      Pandemonium erupted in the room. Samantha was kicked violently to one side as Highrum jumped back wiping away the fluid. His face was purple with anger, disgust and humiliation.

      "You will be severely whipped," he screamed at the slave. "You disobeyed orders. I will have the skin off your back."

      It was that moment that Andreas chose to make an unannounced visit to see how well his slaves were progressing. He took in the scene at a glance, it was clear to him what had happened.

      "Jason!" he shouted at one of Highrum's men. "Take her to the courtyard. Have her bent over the bar."

      "Yes Mr Lord." The man answered and, grabbing Samantha by the arm, dragged her from the room.

      In what seemed no time at all, Samantha was tied naked over the bar. She shook with fear. She realised she had made a disastrous mistake. The indignity that Highrum had suffered would, she was sure, earn her a severe lesson with the whip. That she was bent over, instead of being tied to the whipping post, only served to increase her fear.

      She heard sounds behind her and, looking back past her legs saw her three friends, Andreas, and Highrum and his other men standing well to the rear.

      "Jason." She heard Andreas's voice break the silence that had descended on the courtyard. "Thirty strokes of the cane, and lay them on hard. The bitch must learn obedience. Her punishment will also serve as a lesson to the others."

      Samantha sensed Jason take up his position to her left. She gripped her ankles and clenched her teeth, awaiting the onslaught.

      Thirty! How could her bottom survive such a beating. A surge of rebellion filled her mind. Let them do their worst she thought, nothing not even thirty cuts of the cane, would break her.

      Swish. Thwack. A streak of fire erupted across the centre of her cheeks. She choked back the cry that threatened to leave her throat.

      Swish. Crack. Another line of fire. She shook her head from side to side and tried to rub her thighs together.

      The report of three more strokes echoed round the courtyard. Samantha writhed in her bonds, her buttocks clenching and unclenching spasmodically at the pain that seared in her bottom. She tasted blood in her mouth where she had bitten her lips to stifle her screams.

      Swish. Thwack. Samantha turned her head and bit hard at the flesh of her upper arm as a sheen of sweat began to glisten all over her body.

      The seventh stroke blazed a path across her taut buttocks. The pain was too much to control. Her head jerked up, her mouth opened wide in a terrible grimace as a scream of pain and surrender filled the courtyard.

      Her control broken, Samantha writhed and screamed as the cane lashed her suffering bottom another eight times.

      Somehow her mind registered that she had taken half of the prescribed strokes. She wanted to scream for mercy, even beg for it, anything to halt the unrelenting lashing of the cane. Even as the thought entered her head, her stubbornness and pride gained control. Thirty or three hundred, she told herself, it didn't matter. Nothing they could do to her would make her give in. Was she not a warrior? A warrior would rather die them surrender.

      Thwack. Thwack. The cane continued to bite into her buttocks. Her cheeks were swollen and, where stroke had landed on stroke, little globules of blood showed where the skin had broken. As the twentieth stroke added its quota of pain, a violent shudder swept over her body sending a shower of sweat cascading in the sunlight. A shrill scream of agony and despair echoed round the yard. The mist thickened before her eyes as her body slumped over the bar.

      Thwack. The force of the stroke sent a ripple through her blazing cheeks but she had sunk so deep into the mist of pain that her body had ceased to jerk. Now a low mewing sound, like a suffering animal, had replaced the screams that had, up to now, followed each report of the rattan striking her taut flesh.

      Seeing that, Highrum, who had been nursing a fierce disappointment that Andreas had not allowed him to whip the slave, inwardly smiled. The slave's stubbornness had been broken, he thought.

      Jason lashed the rattan across the swollen buttocks nine more times, each stroke leaving another weal of agony in its path and raising the mewing sound to a higher pitch.

      Through the mist of pain, Samantha realised that her ordeal was over as she felt her wrists and ankles released from the bonds that had held her in place. She shook her head to clear the mist.

      The thought entered her mind that she had survived the flogging. She was still alive! The furnace that raged in her bottom seemed to have spread throughout the whole of her body.

      She was still alive! With that realisation, her pride and stubbornness gradually returned.

      Placing her hands on the bar to give her support, she slowly straightened up and turned to face Andreas.

      Even though the tears that still flooded her eyes, Andreas was astounded to see the hatred and defiance that burned there. He had ordered thirty strokes thinking that, as many a girl had before her, such a flogging would break her spirit. He could not deny the grudging respect he felt for her courage.

      "Take the slaves back to their cell," he ordered. "Give them another slave to help tend her buttocks."

      Samantha lay on her rug in the cell while the others tenderly applied the lotion to her weals. Even they, who were well aware of her courage as a warrior, marvelled that her small body could absorb such a beating. As they tended to her, Samantha cursed the men responsible for her suffering and whispered her determination to escape and take her revenge.

   Chapter 4

      Andreas ordered the slaves' tuition under Lianne to be continued for three more days. Samantha's failure had angered him no end. Lianne was ordered to be naked and display the whip weals on her smooth white back. She had received twenty lashes for not teaching the slaves properly.

      At the end of the three days, she informed Highrum that they had learned all she could teach them. The male slaves suffered greatly under the female slaves' attentions, many times they were brought to the brink of climax only for their needs to be frustrated. None of the slaves dared risk a repeat of Samantha's beating for going too far.

Five days after Samantha's punishment, the four girls found themselves again kneeling naked before Andreas. He questioned Highrum and Lianne on their progress until he was satisfied.

      The slaves Samantha and Judy have developed well and are ready to learn to dance. See to it that arrangements are made for them to be taken to Yasmin. Starting tomorrow. The other two can take their places with the house slaves and finish their education there."

      "It shall be done, my Lord, as you command."

      The slaves were ordered to follow Highrum back to their cell where they remained for the rest of the day and that night. Little did they realise that this was the last time they would be together.

The next morning, one of Highrum's assistants ordered the slaves Jacqueline and Stephanie from the cell. The girls hugged each other in farewell, whispering promises that they would soon be reunited and make their escape.

      Samantha and Judy were called for some time later. They were made to cover themselves in long hooded cloaks. Short chains were put on their ankles and collars, with leads round their necks. Highrum led them from the building.

      They heard familiar sounds, people talking, horses' hooves striking the stone cobbles, and the general melee of a town in day time. The two slaves only heard these noises but could not see for the hoods that covered their heads.

      Eventually they were halted. A sharp knock on a door, the grating of hinges, and, judging from the feel of smooth stone under their bare feet, they were led into a building.

      "So these are the slaves Andreas wishes to be trained in the dance." A soft female voice broke the silence. "Take off their cloaks and let me see what he has sent me this time."

      The collars then the cloaks were removed and the two slaves stood naked. As their eyes became accustomed to the light they saw that they were in a large room with only a few seats scattered around the wall.

      A young woman, dressed in a long, white, flowing robe, was scrutinising the slaves closely. Highrum introduced her as Yasmin. She was to be their teacher for the final set of lessons.

      "Not bad figures and unblemished skins," Yasmin mused quietly to herself. "That is a good start at least. Pity their legs are a little too long for dancers but they are shapely at least."

      She walked slowly round behind the pair.

      "It seems we have a troublemaker in this one," she said looking angrily at Highrum and pointing at Samantha's bottom which still bore the evidence of her beating.

      "She has learned her lesson," Highrum said. "You will have no problems with her. If she misbehaves, even slightly, she will be soundly whipped. Andreas has said so."

      "So be it," Yasmin replied. "I will take your word for it but any trouble from her and I will refuse to teach her, no matter how much Andreas may pay. It will be some time before they are competent to dance for men so we will start straight away."

      Under Yasmin's direction, the slaves were ordered to walk around the room and perform exercises. Yasmin studied them closely, watching how they moved and assessing the suppleness of their limbs and bodies. Naomi and Lianne had prepared them well and Yasmin's misgivings began to evaporate.

      She set the slaves a routine that they were to follow each day. First exercises to loosen their muscles followed by basic steps that would be incorporated into the dances they were to learn.

      Day after day, they went through the routines. Samantha soon realised that, whilst they were being trained to dance for the pleasure of men, they were also being given a weapon that they could use to their advantage in the future. She explained this to Judy and they both agreed to apply themselves studiously to the lessons. They would learn all Yasmin had to teach them, learn quickly and thoroughly.

      At night, they were returned to Amdreas's house where, after a wash and food, they were confined in their cell. They whispered together, going over plan after plan of escape, until they fell into an exhausted sleep.

      To Yasmin's pleasure, and Highrum's surprise, the slaves' teaching proceeded rapidly. This caused Highrum a little disappointment, he had hoped for many opportunities to have the slaves flogged. He fantasised often of having Samantha's naked body at the post and the heavy whip in his hand. The girls defiance and toughness made him long to thrash her into complete submission. In his imagination her graceful body would writhe and shudder under the lash until she was released to crawl to him and kiss her feet with all the humility of a truly submissive slave.

      Eventually, when Yasmin considered they had progressed sufficiently, three musicians were hired and the slaves began to learn to dance to various rhythms. Both Samantha and Judy were highly embarrassed at the presence of the men. The slaves were kept naked and did not fail to see the looks of lust in the men's eyes.

      Although Samantha's bottom had lost all trace of the beating, the memory was still strong in their minds. They fought to overcome their embarrassment even when Yasmin introduced set dances where they not only danced to the music but acted a part at the same time.

      Sometimes the dance required them to be new slaves dancing for the first time before a Master, nervous and frightened. At other times they were brazen slaves deliberately trying to seduce a men with erotic movements of their bodies.

When Yasmin introduced the 'Whip Dance' Samantha had no difficulty in acting since she had in reality felt the lash. The cracking of a whip to the rhythm of the dance by one of Highrum's men made their performances even better.

      One morning, they entered the 'classroom' to find that a long mirror had been placed against one wall. After their loosening exercises, Yasmin made them stand before the mirror. To one side there was a table on which were displayed a variety of cosmetics.

      Yasmin proceeded to instruct them in how to select and apply the appropriate colours to match the various dances, then the perfumes most suited to enhance the character they were to portray in the dance.

      Finally, for the first time since their capture, they were allowed to try on various costumes. These invariably consisted of a long transparent flowing skirt hung low on their hips from a jewel-studded belt. And a skimpy bolero jacket or breast cups held in place by thin chains from their necks and around their backs.

      A transparent veil to cover the lower half of their faces and jewelry and slave bands on their arms completed the ensemble.

      Seeing herself for the first time, fully made up and dressed, Samantha realised that, as much as she had fought all her short lift against being what a male would require a female to be, she presented a beautiful and desirable picture. Her thoughts were echoed by Highrum as he inspected them.

      The afternoon was spent dancing in their costumes and make up. Yasmin and Highrum were delighted. The girls moved and danced like true slaves and to their surprise and delight, she informed Highrum that they had now learned all that she could teach them. They were ready to dance for a Master.

      The lesson came to an end and the slaves were prepared to be returned to Andreas's house. They were surprised when they were allowed to keep wearing the costumes and make up. But the usual long cloak was put over them and the chains attached to their ankles.

      Instead of being washed, fed, and taken back to their cell, the cloaks were removed and they were led to Andreas's room. Here they knelt before him while Highrum reported on their progress.

      "So Yasmin said that, did she?" Andreas mused when his man had finished. "Take them to the exhibition room and summon my musicians. I would see for myself." The two slaves were taken to a large hall at the rear of the main building. They saw tiers of seats forming a half circle with and open space in the centre. A small stage was raised at the jaws of the arc in the centre of which was a tall pillar. A door at the side of the stage was closed.

      Soon several men carrying a variety of instruments entered and arranged themselves, sitting crossed legged on the stage. Andreas entered and sat down in the front row of seats.

      "The slave Judy first," Andreas announced. Take the other to the side room."

      One of Highrum's men took Samantha by the arm and led her across the stage and through a door into the side room. A bench was fixed along one wall and she was ordered to sit on it.

      She looked round. Apart from the bench, the room was empty. There was another door at the far end facing the one by which she had entered.

      The silence was broken by the muffled strains of music from the hall. Samantha listened and imagined just dancing before Andreas. She found herself wishing that Judy did well and pleased the man who was obviously judging her. To her surprise, Samantha found herself wanting Andreas to find her pleasing when her time came.

      Dance well she must, she knew. To displease him would only have one end. A severe beating. As she waited her turn, she promised herself that, although she would do her best to be pleasing, this was only to save herself more suffering, not to satisfy the man who insisted on being her master. No man would ever make her submit to being his slave.

      The strains of the music faded and, a few minutes later, a panting and perspiring Judy was led into the room by Highrum.

      "Now you." He said, pointing at Samantha.

      As she was led across the stage, Samantha whispered to the leader of the musicians. She hoped he would do as she asked. It is only a small sign of rebellion, she told herself, even if Andreas did not recognise it as such, she would know.

      Highrum led her to the middle of the empty area. She stood facing Andreas, her hands back to back above her head, her left knee slightly bent waiting for the music to start. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw one of the musicians take up a whip. So her request had been heard.

      With a roll on a drum, the music started. Samantha began to dance, just as Yasmin had taught her. She slowly and gracefully twisted and turned, making her movements as fluid as possible.

      In time to the rhythm, she stood perfectly still facing Andreas, her belly undulating so seductively that his eyes protruded from their sockets.

      So, Samantha thought to herself, it's true. A slave can, with guile, exert power over a man, even one who claims to be her Master.

      The sudden cracking of the whip sounded above the music. Instead of looking frightened, as was required of a slave performing the 'Whip Dance', Samantha allowed undisguised defiance to show in her eyes as she looked straight into those of Andreas.

      The dance followed the usual routine except that each time the lash was heard, the defiant look returned to the slave's eyes. Eventually, with a final roll on the drum, the dance ended and Samantha fell panting to her knees before the astonished Andreas.

      Highrum had said that the slaves were good, but Andreas had not been prepared for such a polished performance as these two had just provided. The satisfied expression faded from his face as he regained his poise. It would not be wise for the slaves to know just how good they were, he thought.

      "Fetch the other slave," he ordered Highrum, "and dismiss the players."

      Soon Judy was kneeling beside a still panting Samantha.

      "Yasmin gave you both good reports," he said, speaking in a low voice. "However your performance seemed to be lacking something. I fear you were not giving of your best. That will not do. Highrum." Andreas turned to his man. "They are to be auctioned soon. Teach them to try harder next time. No food tonight and the switch, I think. Fifteen strokes each before they are returned to their cell."

      "Yes my Lord. I will personally apply the lesson." He turned to his men. "Bring the slaves to the courtyard."

      Samantha and Judy were seized by the arms and hurried from the hall. As they were dragged into the courtyard, Samantha began to struggle. She had tried her best now she was to be beaten. It was not fair!

      "Strip," Highrum ordered as the slaves stood facing him. Knowing that resistance was useless against the man, the slaves obeyed. Judy stood, eyes downcast, trembling with fear. Samantha, burning with the injustice of the whole affair, raised her eyes and stared defiantly into Highrum's.

      "You first." He pointed at Samantha.

      Casting a last defiant look at the man whom was about to flog her, Samantha walked slowly forward and bent over the bar. Her ankles and wrists were secured.

      One of Highrum's men handed him the switch. He flexed the long thin leather-bound rod in his hands as he surveyed Samantha's pale cheeks, stretched taut awaiting her ordeal.

      Highrum had seen the looks of defiance in her eyes as she danced and as she had stared at him a few minutes ago. She must learn, he resolved, and I will teach her a lesson.

      Samantha shook the hair from her eyes and looked to her side where she expected to see her tormenter. He was not there!. She looked back past her legs and began to shake with fear as she saw Highrum several paces behind her.

      'He's not going to run at me?!' The terrible thought entered her head. 'Even he would not do that.'

      Her legs suddenly felt weak as she realised that that was exactly what he intended to do. She saw him take a pace forward. She turned her head away, screwed shut her eyes and gripped her ankles tight.

      She heard two quick footsteps, a whistling sound, then a sharp report as a streak of fire erupted in her bottom. She bit her lip to hold back the cry that welled up in her throat.

      Twice more the footsteps followed by two more sharp reports. Now three lines of fire blazed in her cheeks. She turned her head so that her mouth was against her upper arm and bit hard as the next stroke was applied.

      Thwack.

      Thwack.

      A fine sweat broke out over the slave's body. Sheer defiance had enabled her to remain silent for five strokes, only a gasp as each landed showing that the pain she was fighting was intense.

      Despite his strength and physical condition, Highrum was panting with the effort he was putting into the strokes. The slave's silent defiance fuelled his anger. He wished Andreas would let him loose on the girl. He would break her and drive out her rebellious spirit.

      Crack.

      "Aaarrrggghhhh." A long agonised moan from the bent slave followed the report of the impact. The stroke had landed diagonally across the previous parallel burning weals accentuating the pain already there as well as adding its own quota.

      Thwack.

      Crack.

      The rigid control that Samantha had somehow managed broke under these strokes. She screamed out loud and her struggles became violent, So much so that she slid sideways back and forth along the bar over which she was bent.

      Seeing this, Highrum shouted in anger to one of his men. The slave's gyrations were spoiling his aim and that would not do. His man ran forward and looped a strap round Samantha's hips and secured the ends to the bar.

      "Oh no. God help me," moaned Samantha as she vainly tried to wriggle her buttocks to ease the pain. She was held immobile, her cheeks a perfect, stationary target.

      Thwack.

      Crack.

      Two more lines of raging fire seared across the slave's cheeks. Such was the force Highrum was putting into his task that two thin lines of bright red showed where the switch had struck.

      Samantha screamed even louder. This was far worse than the caning or whipping she had previously endured. Now she could not wriggle or squirm to ease the agony. Her courage, control and defiance left her as did any thoughts that she was a warrior and leader of her band.

      "Please. Please. No more. I beg you Master!" The please echoed round the courtyard bringing a smile of success to Highrum's sweating face. He had succeeded. He had broken the slave.

      In case she was faking to save herself, Highrum laid on the remaining five strokes with added force. The screams and repeated cries for mercy that followed each convinced him that she had surrendered to her slavery. His satisfaction surged over him in a wave of delicious pleasure.

      Samantha was released from her bonds and dragged to the side of the courtyard where she collapsed on the ground, a sobbing, shaking slave.

      So deep was she immersed in her own pain and suffering, that she was unaware of Judy being tied over the crossbar. Highrum, exhausted by the efforts of administering Samantha's beating, handed the switch to one of his men who proceeded to apply the fifteen strokes of Judy's punishment.

      Some time later, Samantha surfaced from the mist of pain to find herself lying on the floor of the cell with Judy lying, moaning softly, at her side.

      The two slaves edged close and wrapped their arms round each other seeking solace in the closeness of her friend's body. Eventually exhaustion overcame the pain and hunger and they fell into a troubled sleep.             

  Chapter 5

      The switching, so soundly administered to the slaves, did not please Andreas. It forced him to defer his plans for their sale but, he consoled himself, they deserved it and the memory might well make them show themselves better when the time for the auction came.

He ordered one of the older female slaves to tend to the slaves' buttocks daily, applying creams and lotions to make the bruises disappear as quickly as possible.

During the days that followed, until all traces of the flogging had disappeared from the slaves' buttocks, they were made to exercise and practise their dances under Highrum's personal supervision.

      The memory of the beating did, in fact, remain vivid in the girls' minds. So much so that, when in the presence of Highrum or any of his men, their behaviour was perfect. The unspoken threat of any repeat of their ordeal was sufficient to ensure this.

      Their complete recovery coincided with a sale of other merchandise that Andreas had arranged.

      Yasmin was summoned to Andreas's house, and under her guidance, Samantha and Judy were prepared.

The slaves were not informed of the reason for the preparations and thought they were being readied to dance for their Master. The cosmetics and perfume applied to their bodies, and being dressed in their costumes, seemed to endorse this.

      At the appointed time, one of the men escorted them to the room where Samantha had waited before dancing before Andreas.

      There were about twenty naked girls in the room. Through the closed door to the stage muffled sounds indicated the presence of many men in the exhibition hall.

      "Are we to dance for his guests?" Judy whispered to Samantha.

      "So it would seem," Samantha whispered back.

      "Fools," whispered the naked girl to Judy's left. "This is an auction. We are to be sold."

      Any further discourse was cut short by one of the men ordered them to be silent.

      One by one the naked girls were ushered through the door on to the stage. Once the door was not shut properly and the girls heard a man, whom they assumed was the auctioneer, extolling the girl's virtues. The sound of men shouting bids, interspersed with the cracking of a whip as the girl was put through her paces, came clearly to their ears.

      Finally the last girl was taken through the door, leaving Samantha and Judy fretting on what was to be their fate.

      A very stern looking Highrum suddenly appeared through the other door and approached the two slaves.

      "You are both to dance at the same time. My Lord wishes to sell you as a pair. He has set a high reserve price on you so you had better perform well. He has told me to tell you that failure to meet the reserve price will earn you both a severe flogging with the cane and a switching followed by a thorough whipping. You have been warned."

      "What dance are we to perform?" Samantha asked, her voice trembling at the terrible threat.

      "The dance of the Seductive slave," Highrum replied. "It is the one you both do well."

      The sounds in the exhibition hall faded as the last girl's sale was completed. There were sounds of movement on the stage then the door opened.

      "Follow me."

      The two slaves rose and obeyed. As they neared the door their hands met in an encouraging clasp and their eyes met.

      "Good luck. Do your best," they whispered to each other.

      Highrum led them through the door, across the stage where several musicians were assembled, to the centre of the space between the tiers of seats. Samantha glanced quickly around at the sea of men's faces and her legs began to tremble.

      She was to perform a suggestive erotic dance before these strangers. She knew, if she was to avoid the terrible punishment that awaited failure, that she and Judy must please these men.

      In perfect timing, Judy and Samantha sank to their knees. An expectant silence filled the hall.

      Suddenly the strains of the opening chords echoed round the hall. The two slaves began to sway to the music. Rising to their feet, they danced. Danced as if their lives depended on pleasing the watchers, which it probably did. they were well aware of the fate that awaited them for failure. A fate that, if they earned it, would leave their bodies so marred that no one would wish to own them.

      As she danced around the open space before the seats, Samantha gave herself up to the music, overcoming her embarrassment at the suggestive movements her body was making to the men. Her eyes sought out first one then another man's eyes, flashing as seductively as she could make them.

      The dance progressed and Samantha sensed the interest of the men growing. This inspired her to greater effort and daring.

      The lessons with Lianne and Yasmin had led her to think that she could use her skill and body to influence men. Now, seeing the interest their dancing was arousing in the audience, she became certain that she was right. She would use the power this gave her and, if escape proved to be impossible, make any man into whose ownership she might fall, her slave instead of she being his.

      Eventually, with a crash of cymbals, the dance came to an end and the two slaves sank to the ground in front of Andreas, sitting in the centre of the front row. To their surprise, as the strains of the music faded, someone at the back began to clap. The example was taken up by others and soon the slaves were nearly deafened by the applause.

      At a signal from Andreas, Highrum took the slaves by the arm and led them onto the stage. The musicians had departed and their place had been taken by the auctioneer. The two slaves shuddered at the sight of the heavy whip in his hands. They were turned to face the audience.

      "Masters." The auctioneer's voice stilled the buzz of conversation that murmured round the hall. "You have seen the delights of these slaves as they danced for you. Now you may have the chance of making them your own."

      The audience, believing that the sale had been concluded with the last girl and that the dance had merely taken place for their pleasure, fell silent.

      They had seen and enjoyed the slaves' curvaceous bodies, and the seductiveness with which they had danced. Andreas, contrary to custom, had left the best to last.

      "When I tell you," the auctioneer continued, "that they are both virgins you will appreciate the favour that Andreas is granting you. However, they will only be sold as a single lot and the reserve price reflects the value Andreas puts on them."

      A hardly audible gasp escaped from Samantha as she glanced quickly sideways at Judy. How was it known that they were unsullied by a man? None of the four had let on, of that she was sure.

      Shouts of disbelief came from the audience. Virgin slaves were a rarity, even in the house of Andreas who had the reputation of only selling first class merchandise.

      "Masters," the auctioneer continued, "one night, while they lay in a drug induced sleep, they were examined by an expert you all know and trust. His certificate will accompany each girl. They were Clan-girls before their capture."

      A buzz of annoyance seeped round the hall. Clan-girls were notoriously difficult to manage.

      "Masters," he auctioneer quickly continued, seeing interest in the lot waning. "They have been well schooled in obedience and in the ways to give pleasure to a master. My Lord Andreas has seen to it that they are very experienced in the fate that befalls a slave who is found displeasing."

      Andreas must have given a secret signal for suddenly the hall echoed to the sharp snapping of a whip. Both slaves flinched visibly and cringed, even though the lash was nowhere near them.

      "Come Masters," The auctioneer continued, seeing interest restored at the slaves' reaction. "Who will start the bidding?"

      "Fifty talents." A voice called from the rear of the hall. "Masters," the auctioneer responded, "I have sold common serving wenches for more than that. Please, I beg you, do not joke with me."

      "Sixty talents." Another bid.

      "Seventy."

      For a short while the bids came fast and furious quickly reaching one hundred and eighty. At this sum, many of the bidders dropped out of the contest.

      "Remove your veils" the auctioneer whispered.   Hesitantly, the two girls obeyed, letting the veils fall to the floor at their feet.

      Seeing the two faces fully exposed, the bidders became more active. A bid of two hundred and fifty was reached.

      "Bare your breasts."

      The slaves' arms reached behind their backs and the breast cups joined the veils. Released from their covers the slaves' full firm breasts were exposed to view.

      Again the bidding revived, soon passing the three hundred mark before it began to flag.

      "Remove your skirts."

      The skirts fluttered to the floor. Now the slaves stood naked.

      "Raise your arms and turn round slowly."

      The slaves obeyed, feeling their breasts rise, accentuating their firmness and pointing the dark areolae and their even darker nipples to the ceiling.

      As they turned, the auctioneer expounded the virtues of their seductive backs and buttocks, tapping the latter with the handle of his whip making the slaves flinch beautifully.

      Yet again, seeing the slaves completely naked, the bidding resumed. The auctioneer began putting the slaves through sale paces, making them adopt various positions to better display their charms. The bidding continued. To Samantha's surprise she heard a bid of eight hundred talents called.

      As the bidding slowed, the auctioneer played his last card. A whispered order to the slaves and they fell to their knees spreading them wide in the submission position.

      Samantha, unaware that the reserve price had been passed at seven hundred talents, thought she sensed an air of disappointment in the auctioneer's voice. She remembered Highrum's threat. She could already feel the cane and switch lashing her soft bottom and the whip lashing her poor back.

      Determined to do all she could to avoid that terrible fate, she raised her downcast eyes and looked at the audience for the first time since mounting the stage.

      "Buy us, Masters. We promise you will not be disappointed." Samantha's seductive voice, trembling slightly with fear, overshadowed the low buzz of noise that had descended on the hall.

      "Please buy us, Masters." Judy's equally seductive voice supported her friend's plea.

      A stunned silence fell on the audience. No slave on the auction block had ever dared to speak out before and never to address the audience direct. The auctioneer shook the lash of his whip and stepped back.

      He was just about to flay the slaves' backs when the bidding suddenly started again. He dropped his arm and turned his attention to the bids. For a while these seemed to come fast and furious again until, with the last bid of sixteen hundred talents he raised his open hand high and closed his fist.

      The sale had been concluded. Samantha and Judy had been watching carefully to see who would become the new owner of their bodies, but the man's identity had eluded them.

      Still naked, the slaves were led from the hall into a side room where the transaction would be completed. They waited for a few minutes, standing alongside the auctioneer and his assistant until Andreas entered.

      The slaves shuddered with fear until they saw the satisfied smile on his face.

      "That was the mark of an expert," Andreas said to the auctioneer, "making the slaves beg to be bought. It added considerably to the price. To my knowledge, that has never been done before. You should do it more often. Your commission will be suitably increased."

      "Thank you, my Lord. It is a pleasure to do business with you."

      Samantha bridled inwardly at the sneaky way the auctioneer had taken the credit, and reward. She had only spoken out like that to save her and Judy from a terrible flogging. It was not fair. She inwardly boiled with anger, but the thought of punishment, they were still Andreas's until the purchase price was handed over, made her hold her tongue.

      The door by which Andreas had entered opened again. A shiver of dread passed over the slaves as they looked at the new arrival. He was a tall black man, the turban on his head increasing the impression of height. His face was hard with black, steely eyes and a firm mouth. He was dressed in long baggy trousers and an expensive looking cloak which fell open to display a broad muscular chest.

      "Your Master will be very pleased with your purchase." Andreas addressed the new arrival, bowing obsequiously.

      "I have no doubt." The new arrival answered in a high pitched but authoritative voice. "Pray have the slaves prepared for travel while we complete the formalities."

      While money and letters of ownership were exchanged, the slaves were made to put on long heavy black gowns. Their wrists were manacled together behind their backs and a hood of the same material placed over their heads. A narrow gauze strip concealed their eyes from view.

      Metal collars were put round their necks, anchoring the hood and a light chain attached to rings at the front of the collar. They were now ready for the journey to their new Master.

      His business completed, the black man took hold of the ends of the chains and led his new charges from the building.

      Outside, the two slaves were bundled by another black man into a covered cart and the chains locked to rings in the sides. Samantha and Judy were the only occupants of the cart and Samantha felt a tinge of pride that they were the only girls the man had bought.

      With a sudden jerk, that sent the girls sliding along the floor, the cart moved forward. The journey to their new captivity had begun.

 Chapter 6

      For several days the slaves suffered the bouncing in the cart as the journey progresses. At night they were allowed off the cart. They were fed and chained to a wheel to sleep. As the nights were cold, the black man in charge gave them a blanket each.

      Whilst she was grateful for this consideration, Samantha realised it was not for their comfort but to ensure they were not taken ill. The black was only protecting his Master's property.

      Other than to give orders, The men did not speak to the slaves. Listening to the men talking among themselves, the slaves learned that the black in charge was called Abdul and was his Master's chief eunuch and slave buyer.

      After four days of discomfort in the cart, the last two taking them over a baking hot desert, they came to a river. Abdul arranged for the local ferry man to transport his men and the cart across.

      On the other side they journeyed for another three days. The desert gave way to meadows and scattered woodland. Not the deep forests that Samantha and Judy had been used to hunting in but pleasantly cool after the desert.

      On the third day after the crossing, the two slaves saw signs of civilisation ahead. As they came closer, they could distinguish various buildings, one of which appeared much larger than the others. The other was surrounded by a high wall made of large heavy stones.

      They passed through thick wooden gates and entered a large square. The two slaves, peering through gaps in the cart's covering, felt their hearts sink. They had now travelled many leagues from the forests where their clans lived. The habitation to which they had been brought was well guarded. What was designed to keep undesirables out would also serve to keep them in.

      They had, in their snatched whispered conversations, never given up hope of escape. But now the prospect seemed even more remote.

      The cover was drawn back from the rear of the cart and the slaves ordered to dismount. Their hoods and cloaks were taken off them and they stood naked gazing round in a mixture of wonder and dread.

      They were standing in front of a beautifully designed building. Neat grass lawns, with beds of exotic flowers, surrounded the building. To each side three were more buildings, less imposing than the main one, some of which were plainly stables for the owner's horses but the purpose of the others was not immediately apparent.

      It was to one of these that Abdul led them. A fierce looking warrior guarded the only door which Abdul unlocked and ordered them to pass through. He closed and locked the door behind them.

      A shiver of dread passed over the slaves as they came face to face with another tall muscular black man. He was naked from the waist up and be appeared to be even larger and stronger than the giant Abdul. He wore long baggy trousers held up by a belt, from which hung the inevitable coiled whip.

      "Greetings Abdul," the black said in a high pitched singsong voice.

      "Greetings Mehmet," Abdul replied. "Take these new slaves and see that they are prepared to be presented to the Master."

      With an ever increasing feeling of doom, the two slaves followed Mehmet through another door and along a short passage. He opened a door at the end and they followed him into a large room. It was light and airy with one side open to a lawned garden.

      The air in the room was heavily perfumed and, as they looked round, the two slaves saw a number of scantily dressed girls. The girls ceased their chatter and looked at the newcomers.

      Almost at once, a dark skinned beauty rose from the couch on which she had been reclining, approached Mehmet and knelt in front of him.

      "Zoe. See that these new slaves are bathed and prepared. They are to be taken to the Master as soon as they are ready."

      "Yes Sir," the girl Zoe replied. Rising to her feet, she looked at Samantha and Judy and ordered them to follow her.

      The two new slaves followed Zoe as she led them into a beautifully tiled room with a sunken bath. As if their arrival had been expected, the bath was already filled with steaming hot water.

      Samantha and Judy lowered themselves into the bath as Zoe commanded. The luxury, after the long journey, was very welcome. To their joy, Zoe allowed them to soak in the bath for some time while she sat on a stool at the side and answered the many questions that they asked her.

      They learned that they were now the property of El Harren, a warlord who owned the palace to which they had been brought and the surrounding country for many miles. They were now part of El Harren's harem of which Zoe was the senior girl.

      Zoe questioned them on their past and began to instruct them on how they should conduct themselves.

      "You must always address El Harren as Master and only speak in his presence when answering him. Abdul and Mehmet are the senior eunuchs in charge of the harem who you must also treat with deference, kneeling before them and calling them Sir," Zoe explained.

      "El Harren is a strict and fair Master provided the slaves serve him well. Any act that gives him displeasure, however, is severely punished," Zoe continued. "The only person to fear is the Master's son, Sulieman, who enjoys seeing young girls in pain."

      Zoe ordered the slaves from the bath and, while she continued to explain their duties, supervised them as they brushed out their long hair and applied cosmetics and perfume to their faces and bodies. She then gave them clothing to wear very similar to the costumes they had worn at the auction.

      When they were prepared to her satisfaction, Zoe left them alone while she sought out Mehmet.

      "Don't give up hope," Samantha whispered to Judy just as soon as they were left alone. "We will outwardly submit to these men, although I will hate doing so, but we will escape and rejoin our clan at the first opportunity."

      "I hope that will be soon," Judy whispered back. "I hate to think what will be done to us in the meantime."

      Samantha was saved having to answer that, although she suspected that they were in for an unpleasant and painful time, by the entrance of Mehmet.

      He looked sternly at the pair. "Did Zoe not instruct you to kneel to me?" he asked as his face became red with anger.

      The question startled the two. Quickly they fell to their knees.

      "She did, Sir. Sorry Sir." Samantha tried to sound as meek and repentant as she could. She had quickly decided that it would be better to keep in with Zoe and not earn her enmity.

      "Do not forget again," Mehmet replied, "or you will be sent to Hassan for a lesson in respect. Stand."

      Breathing a sigh of relief, the two new slaves obeyed and stood still while Mehmet inspected them closely.

      Satisfied with what he saw, Mehmet ordered them to follow him. They were led from the building and into the main palace. Mehmet halted before and ornate door on which he knocked.

      The door opened silently and they were led into a luxurious room and towards a couch on which reclined a fierce looking man. The slaves halted in front of him and dropped to their knees.

      "So these are what you have brought for me," the man said.

      "Yes Sir," Abdul, standing behind the man, replied. "They are both very good dancers and, according to their sales certificate, are both virgins."

      "We shall assess these facts later. Meantime let me see if I agree with your report on their physical attributes."

      Abdul moved to stand behind the slaves. Following his orders they rose and removed the items of their costume, one by one. They turned slowly in a circle, conscious of the man's critical gaze taking in every detail of their naked bodies. When they again faced him, they knelt spreading their knees wide.

      "I approve your choice, Mehmet." The man's deep voice broke the silence. "If their dancing matches their looks your regard will be increased."

      "Thank you Sir. Your approval is regard enough."

      "You say that the man Andreas assured you that they had been well schooled? That any contamination from their clan days had been removed?"

      "He so assured me, Sir," Abdul replied. "If he misled me he is well aware of the consequences."

      "Look at me slaves," The man ordered.

      The slaves raised their eyes and looked into his. Dark, nearly black, piercing eyes that sent a shudder of fear through them. This was a man who would stand no nonsense was the clear message they read there.

      "I am El Harren," The deep voice informed them. "You are now my slaves. Escape from here is impossible. Serve me well and your lives will be pleasant. Fail me and the punishment will be severe." He paused for a moment, staring into their eyes.

      "Your bodies appear satisfactory. I will assess your dancing and other accomplishments another time."

      El Harren turned to Mehmet. "Take them to Hassan for their instruction."

      Mehmet ordered the slaves to rise, dress and follow him. As they crossed the courtyard back to the harem building, Samantha dared to ask the question uppermost in both their minds.

      "Sir. Who is Hassan and what is the introduction the Master mentioned?"

      "Silence slave. You ask permission to speak unless you are spoken to first." Mehmet's voice was quiet and lacked the anger his word suggested.

      "Hassan is your Master's executioner," he continued. "He is responsible for meting out punishment. All new slaves are sent to him for ten strokes of his special cane. This serves as a warning to be pleasing at all times."

      Wondering what was meant by the 'special cane' and trembling at the beating they knew would shortly be their lot, the slaves followed Mehmet into the Hareem building. They passed the door to the harem and came to a flight of stairs. Down' down under the building they went until they came to a large room with metal barred cages along one wall. They followed Mehmet as he led them into yet another very large room.

      As they entered, the sight that met their eyes turned their legs to jelly. All along one wall hung a variety of whips, canes, switches and what they could only assume were branding irons. Distributed around the floor area were items of furniture on which a victim could be restrained while punishment was administered.

      Three men, all naked above the waist were going about their duties. It was to one of these, a light brown skinned giant of a man with bulging muscles, that Mehmet spoke.

      "Greetings Hassan. I bring you two new slaves for the usual introduction," Mehmet said.

      "Did the Master give any special instructions?" a deep throaty voice replied.

      "No. Just the usual ten."

      Hassan turned to face the slaves.

      "Strip."

      When the slaves had obeyed, Hassan turned to two of his men and pointed at Judy.

     "She's first."

      The two men took hold of Judy's arms and led her across the room to a high padded stool. They lifted her so that her stomach lay along the top and pulled her legs and wrists down to the base of the legs and secured them with straps.

      Samantha looked at her friend's taut pale buttocks then turned her head to Hassan who had moved to the wall where the implements hung. She just managed to stifle a gasp as she saw him take down a long thin cane. They had both been beaten with a cane before but not one like this. It was half as long again as any used on them before.

      She watched in horror as Hassan approached her friend flexing the cane. His cruel mouth turned up in a smile as he contemplated Judy's position, and the shapeliness of the buttocks awaiting their caning. He gave a couple of practice swings through the air, then brought the cane down with a resounding 'crack' across Judy's buttocks. As the cane fell away, Samantha gasped again as she saw that the weal, already turning dark red, stretched right round both of her friends trembling cheeks.

      Unable to draw her eyes away from the ghastly scene, Samantha felt a surge of pride as her friend absorbed four of these vicious strokes in silence. The following six strokes forced long agonised screams from the bent girl as she writhed on the stool, her body jerking violently with each impact.

      At last her ordeal was over and the men released Judy's bonds.

      Samantha again felt proud of her friend as her feet slipped to the floor and she used the stool to push herself upright. Her friend had taken the beating bravely, not letting the pain overcome her pride.

      Judy walked gingerly back and resumed her place next to Samantha, her eyes streaming with tears.

      "Now her," Hassan said, pointing at Samantha.

      Encouraged by her friend's example, Samantha shrugged off the two assistants' hands and walked to the stool. She eased herself onto it. The men secured her wrists and ankles.

      She sensed Hassan take up a stance to her left, heard the rod whistle through the air and the sharp 'crack' as a line of fire erupted in her cheeks. She choked down a sob as her body jerked under the shock of the stroke.

      Hassan was well versed in thrashing the naked bottoms of the female slaves but he was surprised at the fortitude with which this pair took their beating. Word had already reached him that these were captured clan girls. He had heard that they were supposed to be tough and, when Samantha also stayed silent for four strokes, he began to believe the rumours.

      "Aaarrrgggh." A long drawn out moan escaped Samantha's clenched teeth as the fifth stroke took its toll on her control.

      From then on, she writhed and screamed as the five remaining strokes of the beating were applied to her buttocks.

      She felt the straps removed from her ankles and wrists. Summoning up her strength, she eased herself upright and walked to stand beside Judy. She couldn't stop the sobs that welled up in her throat but she, as Judy had done, managed to resist the temptation to rub her blazing cheeks. She would not give the men the satisfaction of seeing her show a display of weakness.

      Obeying Mehmet's order, the weeping slaves picked up their discarded clothes and followed him to the main room of the harem.

      As the door closed behind them, the two stood and looked around. The other girls stared at them. They had all received the introductory beating and were expecting these two to collapse as soon as the men's hands let go of them. These two, to the girls' surprise had walked in unaided and, apart from the tears lining their faces, showed no sign of the ordeal they had just endured.

      Zoe was the first to recover from her surprise. She called to another girl and ran across the room and between them they led the sobbing slaves to a side room where they laid them down on soft divans.

      "Lie still," Zoe said, "while Su Lin and I soothe your poor bottoms."

      Very gently Zoe and Su Lin applied a strong smelling ointment to the two throbbing bottoms. As her fingers glided over the raised ridges on Samantha's cheeks, gently easing in the unguent, she talked quietly to the prone slaves.

      "This ointment is made from a special recipe. It will not ease the pain immediately but it will make the bruises disappear in a day or so. Then your bottoms will be their usual colour with no sign that you have been beaten. Once it has sunk in, we will use cold cloths to ease the burning."

      "Thank you, Zoe," Samantha whispered. She had regained control of herself and had stopped sobbing and weeping.

      "That's alright," Zoe said. "We have all been 'introduced' this way. Just try not to earn a proper beating from Hassan. He has a very strong right arm."

      "No doubt about that," said Judy joining in the conversation.

      "Life here is really very pleasant, if you behave yourself and keep out of trouble," Zoe continued. "The Master is very strict but fair, if you are good and please him, you will see little or nothing of Hassan. The only thing to fear, as I told you earlier, is the Master's son. He has a cruel streak which the Master chooses to ignore. Try and keep out of his way."

      "Thank you for the advice. We will try and remember it," Samantha said. "However, we do not intend staying any longer then we have to. We will try and escape at the first opportunity. We are not used to being shut away."

      "Have you not been slaves for long?" Su Lin asked.

      Samantha proceeded to tell of their life with the Clan, of the freedom of hunting in the forest, of only being subject to the rules of the Clan and the Clan leader.

      "Are there no men in the clan?" Su Lin asked.

      "No."

      "Have you never been taken by a man?" Su Lin asked as if such a thing was beyond her understanding.

      "No," Samantha replied to the girl's further astonishment. "To lose one's virginity is considered a weakness and no Clan girl can become a leader if she does. Once they have served the Clan as either leader or warrior, then they can take a man. But they will never be taken by him."

      By this time, the ointment had soaked in, cold wet cloths had eased the girls' pain, and they were lying on their sides propped up on their elbows.

      The other slave girls had gathered in the room and sat or stood listening as, in response to their questions, Samantha and Judy recounted all that had happened to them since their capture.

      Finally with all their questions answered, the slaves dispersed and Zoe took the new slaves to another room where they could wash, freshen up and replace the cosmetics. She explained that they must stay naked for the remainder of the day. This was a rule strictly enforced on a slave who had been beaten. The sight of her weals was to discourage other girls from being displeasing.

      When she was sure that they could not be overheard, Zoe led the girls to a corner and began to talk in a whisper.

      "I must warn you. Escape from here is impossible. I understand how you feel at losing your freedom but you must accept your fate. Life here can be very pleasant most of the time."

      "We must escape," Samantha whispered back. "We must go back to our clan, no matter how hard or dangerous the journey may be. We are, after all, warriors."

      "I can only advise you not try. If you do, and are caught, the penalty can be terrible. You would probably be publicly executed."

      "We are prepared to risk that. Death would be better than spending the rest of our lives locked away here," Judy said.

      "Then, if your must, please don't tell me anything about your plans. I am First Girl and am responsible for all the others. If you escape and the Master suspected I knew and did not report you, I would suffer the same fate as you."

      "You have been kind to us," Samantha whispered, "and we will not endanger you or any of the other girls."

      At this juncture, another of the slaves joined them and whispered that Abdul was in the harem.

      Zoe quickly ushered them back into the main hall where they mingled with the others. Samantha and Judy, being the only naked ones, felt slightly embarrassed and tried to hide from Abdul's view until he summoned them to him.

      Trying to hide their nervousness, they knelt before him.

      "Stand," he commanded. "Turn. Show me your behinds."

      Reluctantly the two slaves obeyed.

      "Bend. Hold your ankles."

      Again the slaves obeyed.

      "Hassan did his work well. I hope you learned from the warning and will be good slaves."

      "Yes Sir, we will," Samantha and Judy replied in unison. The words nearly stuck in their throats but they had no intention of giving him any excuse to send them back to Hassan. If may have been only ten strokes but it had been bad enough. They did not relish a proper thrashing from him.

      For a week or more, Samantha and Judy lazed around in the harem. The day after their beating they were allowed to replace their clothing. The ointment that had been applied to their buttocks had worked and all physical traces of their ordeal had disappeared as Zoe had promised. It was still tender to sit down but even this discomfort only lasted a few days.

      Abdul summoned Samantha and Judy to him one morning and said they were to begin exercising and to practise their dancing. Their Master, El Harren, would require a private demonstration soon and, if they were good enough, they would be required to entertain some guests at a forthcoming banquet.

      Fortunately, the break from exercises and dancing had not been long and the slaves soon regained any suppleness they had lost. Since they were the only trained dancers in the harem, Zoe persuaded them to practice in the main hall and arranged for some of the other slaves to provide the music.

      This diversion to the usual harem routine was welcomed by the slaves. Judy and Samantha did not mind being watched, in fact they picked up some useful hints from the other girls.

      Abdul and Mehmet took a close interest and soon reported to their Master that they were ready to perform for him.

      It was after one of the practice sessions that Abdul informed the dancers that their Master wished to see them for himself. They were to dance for him after the evening meal the next day.

      They was a great deal of chatter among the slaves that evening. Much to everyone's trepidation, Zoe had been told by Mehmet that the Master's son, Sulieman, would be present when the slaves danced.

      For the remainder of that evening and most of the next day, the talk among the slaves centered on the evening's program.

      Zoe managed to get Samantha and Judy on their own in a quiet corner for a few minutes and told them of the Master's son.

      Sulieman, being the Master's only son was terribly spoilt, she informed them. He was eighteen years old and was already a fearsome warrior. He had not yet been given a household of his own and, on the rare occasions when he was not carousing away with his friends, he stayed in the palace.

      When he was at home his father let him have the run of the palace and, when he wanted, the use of the slave girls. The girls all dreaded being sent for by him. Where El Harren was strict but fair with the slaves, the son had a cruel streak and took pleasure in inflicting pain on them, whether they had displeased him or not.

      Knowing that Sulieman would be present at the evening performance, Samantha and Judy became more and more nervous as the time when they would be summoned to prepare approached. It was a slight comfort to know that Zoe would be there as well to guide them through the evening.

      The preparations and practising for the evening had taken up most of the girls' time and had, to their dismay, prevented them from making plans for their escape. They did, however, keep a watchful eye on the routine in the harem so that they knew where most of the guards were stationed during the day and night.

      This knowledge they stored away in their minds for future reference.

  Chapter 7

      Mehmet came for the dancers late in the afternoon and led them, with Zoe and Su Lin, over to the main building. Zoe had asked for the Chinese girl to be allowed to come to assist in preparing the slaves. They were taken to a luxurious bathroom where Samantha and Judy were told to strip.

      They were ordered to lie on low tables and Zoe and Su Lin covered their bodies in a thick cream. Then, using very sharp knives, they proceeded to shave the whole of the slaves' bodies except their pubic hair, which was neatly trimmed into a heart shape.

      A hot bath followed then the dancers were stood before a mirror-covered wall while Zoe and Su Lin got to work on them. Their hair was brushed until it shone in long silky waves down their backs. Cosmetics were applied to their faces and nipples. Subtle perfume was dabbed all over them.

      Abdul entered at this juncture and closely inspected the duo. After much thought, he pronounced himself satisfied.

      "Samantha, you will dance first," Abdul informed her. "You will dance the 'Willing Slave Dance'. You, Judy will then do the 'Whip Dance'. After you have danced you will come back here to change, then, Judy dancing first, you will each perform the 'Veil Dance.'

      Both girls paled beneath their make up at this last order. Neither of them had actually performed the entire 'Veil Dance' although Yasmin had schooled them both in the steps and movements.

      "Now get dressed. The Master will soon be ready to judge your performance. See that he is not displeased with you or you will be sent to Hassan." So saying, Abdul strolled from the room.

      Zoe and Su Lin quickly helped the slaves to dress in the costumes for their first time. Long flowing transparent skirts, slit at the front, that hung from jeweled belts slung low on their hips. Skimpy boleros that scarcely hid their charms, but rather displayed them to advantage, half-covered their breasts and a thin veil hid the lower half of their faces. Finally, strings of tiny bells were tied to their wrists and ankles.

      Some five minutes passed until Mehmet entered and ordered the slaves to fallow him. He led them along a short passage and into a large room. On entering they found themselves behind a delicately carved screen. Through this they could see that, apart from a large throne like chair at one end, the room was unfurnished.

      El Harren was seated on this chair. Behind him stood Abdul. To one side, seated cross-legged on the floor, several musicians were tuning their instruments.

      Samantha inwardly cringed at the fierce expression on El Harren's face. It was against her will that she had to dance before any man, but to dance submissively again before a man who claimed he owned her and who had had her beaten was nearly more than she could accept. Nearly that is until she remembered the beatings and her plan to lull him into believing she was conquered. The plan that, if successful, would result in the relaxation of surveillance and lead to a chance to escape.

      Remembering this, she put aside her distaste for what she had to do and determined to try to be found pleasing.

      El Harren clapped his hands and the musicians fell silent.

      "Go. Do your best," Mehmet ordered.

      Trying to appear as seductive as she could, Samantha ran from behind the screen and fell to her knees in the centre of the floor.

      Again El Harren clapped his hands. The musicians began to play and Samantha rose to her feet. She tried to shut the presence of her Master from her mind and gave herself up to the rhythm. She danced. Moving around the floor, keeping time with the beat of the music, her body spun and twisted just as Yasmin had taught her.

      She was so lost in the dance that she nearly missed the snort of disapproval that came from the watchers. She suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be a willing slave. She stopped dead facing El Harren. She raised her eyes until they looked directly into his. She forced a low seductive smile to her lips as she began to undulate her belly.

      For some ten minutes the dance progressed. Desperately fearful of being displeasing, and knowing she had got off to a bad start, Samantha made herself move as seductively and submissively as she could, flashing her eyes at those of her Master. Never faltering in the steps, she used all the wiles that she had been taught to seduce the man before who she danced.

      With a quivering smile on her lips and inviting glances in her eyes she glided around the floor until, with a final clash of cymbals the dance ended and she fell, panting heavily, at her Master's feet.

      She remained perfectly still, awaiting the applause for her performance that never came, instead it was Mehmet who came and led her back in silence behind the screen.

      "Now you," Mehmet said to Judy. "Go."

      Samantha watched from behind the screen as, again, the sound of music filled the room. She saw Abdul move from his position behind El Harren shaking loose a long lashed whip.

      Judy danced beautifully. She perfectly portrayed a reluctant slave being forced to dance before her Master. To Samantha's relief she kept to the rhythm never faltering in the intricate steps even when Abdul cracked the whip across the floor narrowly missing her turning body.

      Eventually, Judy fell to the floor at El Harren's feet as her dance came to an end. Again an ominous silence filled the room as Mehmet went forward, pulled the girl to her feet and led her back behind the screen.

      Back in the room where they had been prepared, the two dancers were ordered to strip. Zoe and Su Lin bathed their perspiring bodies with cold wet towels until they cooled down. Then their hair was again brushed and their make up repaired.

      Zoe and Su Lin then dressed each girl in the seven veils required for their dance. These were arranged so cleverly that, as each would be discarded, a part of the girl's body would be revealed.

      The door to the room opened and Abdul entered to see that they were ready.

      "The Master was not over impressed by your earlier efforts. See that you do better with the 'Veil Dance' or your behinds will be sent for Hassan's attention," he said sternly "You especially Samantha."

      "Come Judy. Samantha, you will wait here."

      Abdul, followed by Mehmet leading Judy, left the room closing the door behind them.

      "I don't think El Harren was very pleased." Samantha said to the two others.

      "Don't read too much into what Abdul said," Zoe answered. "It is not in the Master's nature to let a slave know is she is pleasing, and never never refer to the Master by name. If you were heard you would be severely punished."

      "Please Zoe," Samantha entreated, remembering that Zoe was First Girl. "Please don't tell on me."

      "I won't this time, but don't do it again. I would have to report you if anyone else heard though."

      A silence filled the room as Samantha awaited her turn. She felt wretched. She had tried to dance well, not to please her Master but to further her own plans. That had been bad enough. Just as Judy was doing now, she would soon have to dance again only this time slowly removing the filmy veils until she danced naked.

      Not only danced naked but, remembering Yasmin's teaching, dance in such a way that no man watching would be able to resist her charms. Fear of the consequences of failure helped to push any thoughts of being a warrior to the back of her mind. One day, she consoled herself, I will escape and again be the warrior that earned the honour of being a patrol leader.

      Her thoughts were interrupted by Zoe whispering in her ear.

      "The Master will judge your performance against Judy's," she said. "The one who pleases him less could find herself sent to Hassan."

      "He wouldn't do that, would he?" Samantha whispered feeling her legs begin to shake.

      "You are the first trained dancers he has owned," Su Lin said. "Usually he hires dancers when entertaining his friends. He will expect a lot from you since you were sold as trained dancers."

      Any further discussion was stopped by Mehmet entering the room with a naked Judy in tow.

      "Follow me, Slave," he said looking Samantha.

      Mehmet halted her behind the screen. Peering through, she saw that a young man had joined El Harren and was perched on the arm of the chair.

      "Who is that, Sir?" Samantha whispered.

      "Sulieman. The Master's son."

      Samantha looked hard at the face of the young man. He had similar features to his father's but she quailed at the undisguised lust and cruelty that she saw there.

      El Harren clapped his hands and the musicians began to play. Summoning up all her courage, Samantha glided from behind the screen and commenced to dance.

      Remembering Zoe's words, she forced herself to play the part of a seductress. The advice that Lianne had given them came back to her mind.

      She had a good body, her teachers had told her. One that could send a man wild with desire, they had said. They had made her think of herself in a manner quite contrary to her clan upbringing.

      She determined to use these assets to her advantage. Now the time had come to see if what they had said was true. She put everything she had learned into the dance, casting aside any repugnant thoughts.

      Slowly as the dance progressed, She cast aside the veils one by one until only one was left to cover any modesty she might feel. She used her eyes and mouth to project as seductive an image as she could. Whilst El Harren's expression did not alter, she did not fail to see that his son's interest was thoroughly aroused.

      At last, to her hidden shame, the final veil floated from her body. She danced close to the watchers, gyrating her hips and undulating her belly to the rhythm in, what she would have said, was a lewd and abandoned manner.

      With the final strains of the music, she dropped to her back with her feet towards the watchers. As the final clash of the cymbals echoed round the room, she spread her legs wide and raised her hips from the floor, thrusting her auburn bush upwards as invitingly as she could.

      Some minutes later, naked and panting from her exertions, she followed Mehmet back into the room where she had been prepared. Horrified at the exhibition she had made of herself, she fell weeping into Zoe's arms.

      She had little time to find the comfort she sought for the door opened and Abdul marched in. All four slaves immediately fell to their knees for they knew he had come to pronounce judgment on the dancers' efforts.

      Abdul stood, feet apart and hands on hips, looking sternly at the quaking slaves. He was pleased to see that neither Judy nor Samantha dared raise their eyes to his. A smile of satisfaction flitted across his lips.

      "Your Master has pronounced his judgment," his high pitched voice announced.

      "The slave Samantha's first dance lacked the necessary air of submission and desire to please that the dance requires. Her second greatly improved the Master's first impressions. The ending, one he had not seen before, was most satisfactory."

      Samantha allowed herself to breathe a silent sigh of relief. She hadn't expected praise but Abdul's words raised her hope of not having been found displeasing. These thoughts brought a wave of horror and shame. Had she outshone Judy and, by doing so condemned her friend to a beating?

      "The slave Judy's first dance was acceptable but in the second she displayed unacceptable reluctance in discarding the veils. She was not arousing enough."

      Samantha peered sideways at Judy kneeling beside her. Judy's face had gone pale. She was trembling.

      "The Master had ordered much more practice for both of you. You must quickly attain the perfection required to dance for his friends. It is his birthday a month from today. You will dance at the banquet and your dances must be perfect. Failings will be quickly corrected. A dance teacher will be hired to ensure this."

      As Abdul's words, tinged with obvious regret, faded, he turned on his heels and left the room. The slaves' relief that they were not to be beaten, at least not then, was overshadowed by something Abdul had said.

      'Failings will be quickly corrected,' had been his words. If not a beating, what else could he mean, they wondered. Something unpleasant and probably painful for sure.

      Much to their relief, Mehmet conducted the slaves back to the harem quarters where they were subjected to many questions from the other girls.

      The next day Samantha and Judy were introduced to their new teacher. Her name was Ayesha and, although she appeared to be well into her forties, she lacked nothing in the way of stamina. She kept the two dancers hard at work for eight hours a day.

      Exercises and dancing steps seemed to fill their days. Ayesha came armed each day with a leather strap which she liberally applied to the girls' buttocks and things at the slightest pretext.

      The dancers' proficiency increased rapidly as Ayesha put them through their paces. Occasionally Abdul put in an appearance so that he could report back to El Harren on the slaves' progress.

      Ayesha was curious about Samantha's ending to the veil dance and demanded a demonstration. Much to Samantha's embarrassment she performed as she had done before her Master.

      After the demonstration, which Ayesha watched very closely, Samantha waited for the approval she expected. She was disappointed.

      "Not bad, I suppose," Ayesha said eventually, looking down at the panting girl. "El Harren was right though, your performance does lack a certain something. The sooner he carries out his plan to correct that, the better."

      Those words again. The two slaves shuddered as their imaginations tried to contemplate the meaning behind them. Various visions, all of which included pain and suffering, passed through their minds making the anticipation worse that the event could possibly be.

  Chapter 8

      It was not many days after their audition before El Harren and his son that they discovered what the 'Something' was to by.

      One morning, instead of being taken to the 'classroom' for dancing lessons with Ayesha, the routine changed.

      Mehmet came for them as usual but, instead of the 'classroom' they were taken across to the main palace building to the same room where they had been prepared before dancing in front of El Harren.

      Here several older women awaited them. The slaves, already naked, were ordered on to the low tables. Cream was spread over their bodies and two women commenced shaving them. Samantha forced herself to submit to this as she had done before.

      The two slaves still harboured plans of escape and were content to pursue their plan of appearing submissive hoping thereby to engineer a situation where an opportunity would occur.

      Samantha, indolently lapping up the attentions of the women, suddenly let out a shout of protest as she felt the blade begin to shave her auburn bush.

      The depilation over, they were ordered into the bath of hot water and made to scrub themselves.

      To the slaves' delight, they were allowed to soak in the bath for some time. It was half an hour later, therefore, when they stood before the mirrors. The women dried and brushed their hair and applies cosmetics to their faces.

      This was the same routine as before their dance, even down to the enhancement of their nipples and areolae with rouge. Samantha let out another protest as she was ordered to part her feet and one of the women knelt in front of her and began to paint the outline of her sex lips with kohl.

      Again the sudden appearance of Mehmet's cane before her eyes silenced her.

      Abdul arrived at this point and, having supervised the lavish application of a subtle perfume to their bodies, pronounced himself satisfied with the preparations.

      Samantha's ever increasing feeling of impending doom increased as, instead of being ordered to dress in their costumes, the slaves wrists were tied together behind their back and a blindfold placed over their eyes.

      Samantha stood still as the heard Judy being led from the room. Minute after minute passed and with their passing Samantha's dread increased. She expected any second to hear Judy scream with pain and, as the silence became protracted so her dread increased proportionately.

      She sensed Abdul's return. She felt him take hold of her arm. Pulling gently, he guided her from the room. She immediately lost all track of her whereabouts in the building and so also she had no idea of where she was being taken.

      Suddenly she was halted and gently pushed back until she felt pressure behind her knees. To her surprise her wrists were released and she felt herself eased backwards until she collapsed onto a soft surface.

      Immediately her wrists were taken above her head and her feet thrust wide apart. She felt ropes tied round her ankles and wrists and them pressure as they were pulled tight. She began to tremble with fear.

      Instead of a sudden blaze of pain, she felt soft fingers begin to gently stroke the inside of her calves, moving slowly, ever so slowly, over the inside of her knees and up her thighs. Other hands began to softly strike her breasts, kneading her nipples between gentle fingers.

      Strange things began to happen to her body. Things that she had never experienced before.

      She became aware that there was moisture seeping from her sex.

      She felt her body press upwards onto the fingers that were so pleasantly manipulating her. Strange desires welled up inside her. Desires that she did not understand but, at the same time, enjoyed. Her body seemed to be floating on air as the feelings took control of her.

Her body, which, as far as she could remember, had only experienced hard work and pain now revelled in the delicious sensations that were being induced in it. Tingles of excitement seemed to radiate through her from her nipples, and she shuddered in delight and moaned. Her breasts felt hard and tight. Deep in her belly it felt as though fires had been ignited, her whole body was on a journey of some sort, she knew it instinctively, but where was the destination? She was oblivious to everything except these sensations. Moaning more urgently now, she silently prayed that this exquisite new experience would go on forever.

      Suddenly to her dismay the attentions ceased. She heard girlish giggles fading away as something heavy seemed to land between her spread legs.

      A cry of horror sprung from her open mouth as she felt something hard and hot pressed against her sex lips. Then the thing was thrust deep inside her sending a sharp pain through her body.

      She uttered another cry of horror, this time mixed with distress, as it suddenly dawned on her that she was being raped. She had heard tell of this violation of a women's body many times round the camp fire long ago with the Clan. It had seemed something remote, something that had happened to others but would never happen to her.

      Now it had. Now she would never be considered a pure Clan member. Now she could never hope to be considered a candidate for clan leadership. She began to weep tears of sorrow and despair.

But even as this awful revelation crashed through her brain, still the thing was thrusting savagely up and down inside her. Still the delicious sensations were coursing through her body but now with increasing effect. Her thoughts whirled away as she felt her body take control and begin to thrust upwards to meet the intruder. Her hips bucked and swivelled the better to feel the shaft inside her, penetrating her very core. She felt her pubic mound grind against the roughness of another body, a male body and then at last felt spurts of hot fluid being injected deep into her being.

      Just as suddenly as it had started, the thing was withdrawn from her. The lovely sensations coursed through her still as she cried out in frustration. She had wanted this to go on forever, never to stop. She sensed that her body had been denied something, she did not know what, but there was definitely something missing.

      The blindfold was removed and, as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she saw several of the slaves from the harem clustered around her.

Samantha felt her face turn hot and crimson with embarrassment. She turned her head and saw Zoe standing beside her.

      "Welcome, slave, to your new self," Zoe said with a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

      "I've been raped," Samantha blurted out, not caring who heard her. "Who did this to me?"

      The delicious sensations that she had, for a short time, enjoyed now seemed shaming to her. Even more so when she recalled how her body, betraying her pride, had so completely responded.

      Zoe's greeting, as if something wonderful had been endowed on her, made her anger even worse. Did these stupid girls not understand what she suffered? That the act had deprived her of becoming a clan leader when she escaped? The one thing that she had desired above all others, that she had striven for ever since she could remember, had been taken from her.

      She felt the bonds securing her wrists and ankles removed. She flung herself from the couch on which she had been tied and started to run from the room, tears of shame and anger streaming down her face.

      She did not get far, however, for at that moment the door opened and Abdul and Mehmet marched in. They seized her by the arms and dragged her along to the preparation room.

      She was forced down onto one of the low tables and, while her shoulders were held down, her legs were raised up and spread wide. She felt something pushed between her sex lips and deep into her. A strong jet of liquid cascaded into her body washing out the fluid that had not seeped out onto her thighs.

      "This is to ensure that you do not conceive," Zoe whispered into her ear. "No slave is allowed to be got with child except when she is sent to the breeding farm."

      Instead of consoling the writhing slave, these words only increased her anger.

      "I demand to know who did this to me!" she shouted. "I will kill him for this insult!" The warrior inbred in her had surfaced and any semblance of submissiveness she had tried to cultivate deserted her.

      "Shush!" Su Lin whispered urgently in her ear. "To talk so will earn you a whipping."

      "You ungrateful bitch." Abdul's high pitched voice was raised an octave higher than usual as his anger suffused his fat face. "The Master will hear of this and you will be sent to Hassan for a severe flogging."

      "I don't care!" Samantha shouted back at him. "I have been insulted and I will kill the man who did it."

      The watching slaves gasped in horror. No slave had, in their memory, dared to speak thus to the Master's Chief Eunuch. They trembled at the fate that they knew Samantha had brought on herself. The Master's anger, when Abdul reported the matter to him, would know no bounds.

      "Take this slave to the punishment cell," Abdul ordered his assistants. "There she will await the Master's pleasure."

      Samantha was seized and dragged from the room. As she was pulled struggling along the corridor, she saw Judy being taken to the preparation room. As they passed, Samantha saw that her friend was weeping violent sobs. Dark bruises showed on her pale breasts where her flesh had on the inside of her thighs.

      Neither girl could bear to look the other in the face, so great was their shame and embarrassment.

      Samantha was eventually thrown into a dark cell and the door closed and locked behind her. A deep silence surrounded her and she suddenly began to tremble as she realised what she had done. There was no furniture in the cell and the only light came from a small window set high in one of the walls.

      A deep feeling of doom and despondency fell over her like a cloak. She sat down, her back to a wall, and began to cry softly to herself. Her shame and disgust at her own body had been the undoing of her. She had lost the tight control she had tried to exert over her feelings. Now, no doubt, she would be made to pay, and pay terribly, for her offence.

      She was left alone for the rest of the day and all the night. No one came near the cell. She was given no food, and hunger, and fear, cramped her belly. She eventually needed to relieve herself and the disgrace of having to do so on the cell floor nearly drove her frantic. Thankfully, whilst stumbling around the cell, she tripped over a bucket and was saved from this final humiliation.

      This time she knew she had gone too far. The terrible humiliation of the deed that had been done to her, and the ruining of her chances to become a clan leader if she managed to return to her forests, had been too much. She had thrown her carefully thought out plans away. Now if she returned, 'when she returned' she corrected herself, she would never be allowed to sit on the clan council.

      The opening of the cell door brought her back to her immediate predicament. Abdul stood in the doorway staring at her, a fierce look on his face.

      Samantha had the sudden urge to prostrate herself before the eunuch and beg his forgiveness and plead not to be punished for her offence.

      Her pride as a warrior, and the scowl on his face as he seemed to read her thoughts, made her hold back. She raised herself to her feet and, bracing her shoulders, looked him straight in the eyes.

      "Follow me, slave." Abdul's voice was tinged with the anger he had shown yesterday.

      The black turned and walked from the cell. Samantha, resigning herself to whatever was in store for her, followed as ordered.

      She was led to the preparation room where she was made to bathe under the watchful eyes of Mehmet and two older women. Except to give orders, no one spoke to her.

      Eventually, her hair brushed and cosmetics applied to her face and body, she stood naked. Abdul entered the room and inspected her closely to ensure that she had been prepared to his satisfaction.

      As she stood, carefully avoiding the black's eyes in case she read her fate their, Samantha thought of the ordeal ahead. She was sure she was to be thoroughly caned but how many of Hassan's vicious stroked was her poor bottom to endure. Fifty? A hundred? Would her young and soft body be able to stand such a terrible thrashing?

      Her thoughts were interrupted as Abdul, satisfied with his inspection, started giving orders to the two women.

      A large black sheet was thrown over her head, covering her completely. She felt a collar fixed round her neck and heard what she thought was a lead attached to it.

      "March, slave." Abdul's voice penetrated the sheet. She felt a tug on the collar and, trying not to trip on the covering, stumbled after him.

      She felt the coolness of the inside of the building give way to the warmth as she realised she had been led outside. The warmth of the sun, however, did not stop the shivers of fear that rippled through her body.

      She was brought up short by a tug on the lead. The collar then the sheet were removed. As her eyes became accustomed to the sunlight, she saw the girls of the harem and all the other servants sitting on the ground in front of her. Immediately behind them, on a raised dais, sat El Harren and his son, Sulieman.

      Samantha quickly dropped her glance to the ground at her feet. Shame flooded over her as she realised that the whole of El Harren's household was to witness her punishment.

      "The slave Samantha is guilty of extreme ingratitude and disrespect." El Harren's voice broke the silence that had descended on the gathering as she had been stripped.

      "It is and honour to be a member of the Master's harem, one for which a slave should be grateful." Abdul's high pitched voice echoed round the courtyard to where Samantha had been led.

      "Quite so," El Harren continued, his deep voice contrasting with that of his chief eunuch. "Let the slave's punishment be a lesson to you all."

      "Hassan," El Harren ordered, "the slave is to receive eighteen lashes. Proceed as I have already commanded."

      Having nearly convinced herself that she would be caned Samantha collapsed as she heard the sentence. She was saved this disgrace as two of Hassan's burly assistants stepped forward and grasped her arms.

      Samantha looked up at El Harren and his son, seeking some sign that this was nothing more than a dreadful dream from which she would awake any minute. El Harren's face betrayed no emotion. Sulieman, to her horror, did nothing to hide the cruel smile that spread across his face. Young though he may be, Samantha felt her heart miss a beat as she discovered that he really was quite handsome.

      Ashamed at this momentary feeling of weakness, Samantha meekly allowed the eunuchs to turn her round facing away from the spectators.

      She felt her legs begin to tremble as the sight that met her eyes sent spasms of terror through her. Two tall posts, some nine feet apart stood in the centre of the courtyard. Between them stood Hassan, an evil looking whip in his hands. As the eunuchs marched her towards the huge executioner, she could not draw her eyes away from the implement that was to punish her.

      From a thick handle hung a number of long strips of leather each some six feet in length and an inch in width. She had heard this spoken of by the other girls. It was known as a female whip, designed to inflict maximum pain without scarring a girl's tender skin.

      The eunuchs halted her between the posts. Her arms were pulled out and up and her wrists secured to ropes hanging from the top of the uprights. The eunuchs pulled on the ropes until she was suspended, her feet a few inches from the ground. Her ankles were tied together and secured to a ring in the ground. Even before the flogging began, Samantha was immediately in agony from the suspension. Her shoulders and arms ached from the first second her bodyweight came fully onto them. She couldn't restrain a groan, partly from the pain, but partly because she knew she was deliberately being made to suffer in this position to humiliate her. What a spectacle of helpless female flesh she must make, she thought. Her long, graceful back, narrow waist and curving hips and buttocks were all hung out on display. Her arms wrenched away from her and her ankles tied together, meant that she was stretched out perfectly for the whip but would be unable to anything more than scream as she was flogged, she wouldn't even be able to writhe. She would just have to hang there and take her lashes.

      Abdul, who had left the dais to supervise the flogging, stood in front of her and reaching behind her, parted her long auburn hair and pulled it forward over her breasts. He grinned cruelly as he did so, nothing must prevent the slave feeling the full impact of the whip.

      "Proceed with the punishment." El Harren's voice broke the silence that filled the courtyard.

      Samantha heard a rustle behind her, followed by a loud swishing noise. Immediately a blaze of pain exploded across her back where the blades of the whip had landed. The air was forced out of her lungs in a loud gasp.

      Not loud enough, however, to drown the sound of the watching slaves counting the first stroke.

      "One."

      "Two." The whip lashed the slave's stretched back tearing another loud gasp from the hanging girl.

      "Three." The count did not, this time, drown the deep groan that issued from Samantha's throat as tears sprung from her tight closed eyes.

Her hatred of the men who had ordered and were inflicting the pain that burned in her back had given her the strength to control the screams that welled up in her throat each time the leather lashed her body. She groaned as she felt this control slipping.

      "Four." "Five."

      Samantha had turned her head and had sunk her teeth into the muscle of her upper arm desperately hoping that she could take her mind from the agony in her back.

      The watching slaves counted the next six strokes as the whip continued its merciless assault on her soft flesh. Samantha broke and screamed her pain to the sky. Sweat broke out over her body running in thin rivulets over her buttocks and stomach and down her legs. She had released her grip on the ropes and her wrists took the full weight of her slim body nearly wrenching her arms from her shoulders as each stroke landed.

      As the next three strokes added their quota of pain, a thick mist clouded Samantha's mind. She no longer heard the count as her body swung slightly with each impact.

      Three more times the cringing watching slaves counted the lashes. Samantha had ceased screaming, the only sign that she was conscious of the agony of each lash being a jerk of her head each time the blades laced across her burning back.

      The eunuchs untied her ankles and released the tension on the ropes round her wrists. Slowly, the flogged slave collapsed in a shivering sobbing heap on the floor.

      Under Zoe's supervision, several of the slave girls carried the semiconscious girl back to the harem and laid her, face down, on a soft divan. They immediately got to work, applying cold cloths to the girl's burning flesh.

      The mist of pain gradually thinned and Samantha raised her head and looked around through tear filled eyes.

      "Is it over?" she mumbled as she tried to rise.

      "Yes. It's over," Zoe said. "Try not to move. The cold will help ease the pain then we can apply the creams and lotions."

      "Will I be scarred?" Samantha, who had cheerfully, risked injury and the resulting scars as a warrior surprised herself at the question. She could not understand why it suddenly seemed so important that her body should be unmarked.

      "No," Zoe replied softly. "Your back is badly bruised but not cut. The ointment will soon make the bruises go away and then three will be nothing to see."

      "Maybe nothing to see," Samantha answered angrily. "I will know, and will never forget, what was done to me today and someone, someday, will pay for it."

      "Hush slave," Zoe chided softly. "Will you never learn? It was speaking thus that got you whipped, or had you forgotten already?"

      "No. I have not forgotten. I'm sorry. I will try and control my tongue in future. I couldn't take another whipping like that."

      "I would try very hard, if I were you," Zoe said. "It may be the male whip they use next time and that would strip the soft flesh from your back and you would be badly marked for life."

      Samantha fell quiet as she digested this advice. The female whip was bad enough, she had no intention of giving them the chance to use the male whip on her. Su Lin had once seen a girl suffer this, a long plaited lash that had cut the girl's back like a knife.

      Exhaustion from her ordeal overcame her and Samantha slipped into a deep sleep, thankfully devoid of any dreams reflecting her punishment.

  Chapter 9

      Thanks to the creams and lotions that were liberally applied to her back, the physical evidence of the whipping soon disappeared from Samantha's back.

      The memory, however, did not fade. Fear of a repeat performance together with the thought that, next time, they might use the male whip on her, made her act with caution.

      Outwardly, she tried to make it appear that she had learnt her lesson. She reverted to her plan of lulling the eunuchs into a sense of false security so that they might relax their surveillance and offer her a chance of escape.

      Inwardly, her mind worked furiously exploring every possibility of getting out of the palace. The longer she was kept there the greater her longing to return to the clan increased.

      Day after day, Abdul insisted that she and Judy were kept well exercised and practiced their dances. The day of the banquet was rapidly drawing nearer. The slaves heard from Mehmet that their Master was boasting to his friends about the two fantastic dancers he had been fortunate enough to acquire.

      Well aware of the penalty for failing to please their Master and his guests, the two dancers worked hard to improve their act. They knew that nothing less than perfection would be tolerated.

      At last the fateful day dawned, sending the two into a state of terrified apprehension. Until mid afternoon, the girls were made to rest until Mehmet came to take them to be prepared. Word had spread throughout the harem that the banquet was being held in honour of their Master's son, Sulieman as well as their Master's birthday.

      The girls spent several hours in the preparation room where, under Abdul and Mehmet's supervision, four older women went to work on them.

      Their bodies were depilated. Their pubic bushes were carefully trimmed into a heart shape. Then, after a luxurious bath in steaming hot water, fragrant oils were thoroughly rubbed into their skins. Great care was taken by the women in applying cosmetics to the slaves' faces and nipples. Finally their hair was brushed until it fell in shining waves that cascaded down their backs.

      Looking at herself in the long mirror, Samantha caught her breath at the sight. Both she and Judy seemed to have increased in beauty as their period of slavery had grown. All traces of the clan warrior had disappeared and, to look at, they resembled perfectly trained slaves.

      Eventually, Abdul reappeared in the room and inspected both slaves closely. A few adjustments were made by the women before the chief eunuch pronounced himself satisfied.

      He ordered the slaves and the women to follow him as he strode from the room. Still naked the girls followed him until they entered a small room. Abdul gave them their instructions for the evening's performance.

      They were to perform several dances, some solo and some together. Whilst they were dancing for the pleasure of the Master and his guests, in their final dance, which would be solo, they were to dance only for the Master's son.

      A shiver of disgust crept through Samantha when Abdul declared that this last would be the 'Veil Dance.' She had great difficulty in repressing the rebellion that flashed through her. Visions of Sulieman's lascivious and cruel face swept across her mind. She shuddered as she imagined herself performing that most seductive dance for him.

      One wall of the room had a window, heavily latticed, which looked into the hall where the banquet was well under way. The slaves were allowed a quick glance into the hall.

      Huge tables, heavily laden with food and flagons of wine, surrounded a large empty area. Many men, of varying ages, were seated at the tables facing the centre. El Harren, his son and the most important guests occupied what was obviously the main table. All were very expensively dressed.

      Judging by the state of the tables and the condition of the men, the banquet was well under way and the time for the slaves' performance approached fast. Semi-naked slave girls fluttered from guest to guest attending to their needs and, judging from the frequent squeals, unsuccessfully dodging the men's groping hands.

      All the men appeared to be thoroughly enjoying themselves and, Samantha was pleased to note, had not over indulged in the wine.

      The slaves were called back from the window and the women began to dress them in their dancing costumes.

      There was a sudden increase in the noise filtering through the window as several musicians filed into the hall and took up their position to one side. The sound of instruments being tuned wafted above the general hubbub. Then, when that had ceased, El Harren's deep voice calling for the entertainment to begin rose above the noise.

      Abdul entered the room and beckoned the dancers to follow him. They waited behind a lattice screen in the hall until El Harren signalled the musicians to begin to play. As the first chords sounded, Samantha and Judy ran lightly to the centre of the cleared area and fell to their knees.

      Samantha let her body respond to the rhythm as the players began the music for the first dance. Rising to her feet, she moved gracefully around the floor letting her eyes settle on first one guest and them another, trying to look as seductive as she could.

      Gradually the hum of conversation died down as the guests turned their attentions to the two dancers. Many eyes focused on the pair. It had been made known that the slaves were captured clan girls and this increased the interest.

      Clan girls were notoriously difficult to break as slaves let alone turn them into acceptable dancing girls. The pair performing before them seemed to make a lie of this as they gyrated most appealingly to the music.

      At last, to Samantha's sank to their knees, panting heavily, facing El Harren and his son.

      The silence that had fallen as the music stopped was suddenly broken by a loud clapping and the thumping of hands on the tables. Mehmet ran forward and took the slaves by the arms. He pulled them to their feel and quickly ushered them from the hall.

      Back in the side room, the women quickly set about changing the slaves' costumes and touching up their make up. Then the slaves were led back behind the screen in the hall. Alternately, Judy first, the slaves danced solo before the audience. After the first dance, the guests resumed their conversation paying little attention to the efforts of the two slaves.

      Eventually the moment that Samantha had been dreading arrived. The time for the 'Veil Dance.' She began to tremble with a mixture of fear and humiliation, tinged with a slight rebellion, as she thought that soon she would be performing naked before all those men.

      Abdul collected Judy, who was to perform first, and took her back to the hall, leaving Samantha alone with the women. The flush of rebellion had been mastered and she began to plan. The dance must be found pleasing, the consequences of failure did not bear thinking about.

      The door to the side room opened and Mehmet entered, dragging a panting, sweating and naked Judy behind him. He beckoned to Samantha to follow him.

      Taking a deep breath and summoning up her courage, she obeyed. As they waited behind the screen, Mehmet whispered in her ear.

      "The Master has ordered that you end the dance exactly as you did before but, this time, facing his son."

      "Yes Sir. I understand," Samantha answered, managing to prevent the disgust she felt from showing in her tone.

      A clash of cymbals heralded the start of her dance. Samantha, taking short steps, glided to the centre of the floor and stood facing Sulieman, trying to ignore the hard stare he directed at her. She raised her hands, back to back, above her head and bent her left knee slightly.

      To her surprise a silence had fallen over the hall. Just as she thought her legs would give way, the music started and she went into the dance. As she swept around the floor she couldn't help noticing that most of the men's eyes were feasting on her.

      It dawned on her, not for the first time, that her body was an efficient weapon in her armory, provided she used it right. Thinking this added a certain extra seductiveness to her dance which did not go unnoticed by her audience.

      Twisting and turning, moving her body as seductively as she could, she did her best to incite the men. When she made her belly 'dance' she forced an inviting smile to her lips and flashed her eyes challengingly at the men.

      One by one, the veils fell away each revealing a little more of her lithe young body. As the last one floated enticingly around her, she knew that the worst part of her ordeal approached.

      She cast the last veil aside and stood facing Sulieman. She stood motionless except for her hips which gyrated to the rhythm and her belly's undulations, quickening.

      Slowly she sank to the floor, on her back, her feet pointing at her Master's son. Her belly still undulating, she spread her legs wide and thrust her hips upwards, taking her weight on her heels and shoulders. She held this position until the final clash of cymbals when she fell onto her back. As a stunned silence filled the hall, she turned to her stomach, raised herself until she knelt with her knees wide spread and her hands together between her heaving breasts.

      Suddenly pandemonium broke out in the hall. Men jumped up stamping their feet and banging the tables until they shook. Voices were raised praising El Harren on the performance of his slave. Never had they seen and enjoyed the 'Veil Dance' executed in such an exciting way before, not even by the most experienced dancers.

      Mehmet rushed to the centre of the floor and, grabbing Samantha by the arm dragged her from the hall as if at any moment he expected the men to rush upon the girl and ravish her.

      "You danced very well," he uttered in her ear as he guided Samantha into the side room.

      To her surprise, Samantha saw that Judy was still naked except for a studded leather collar about her slender neck.

      The women quickly set about tidying Samantha, wiping the sweat from her body, brushing her hair and repairing her make up. A studded leather collar, similar to Judy's, was placed about her neck.

      Abdul entered the room, inspected the slaves and clipped long leather leads to their collars. He then gave them the instructions which they were to follow.

      They were led back to the hall. On entering, the slaves dropped to their hands and knees and, in this second position approached where their Master and his son sat. They were halted a few feet away from the seated men and immediately fell flat on the floor, their arms stretched sideways and legs together. Just as Abdul had instructed.

      El Harren called for silence.

      "My friends." His voice boomed round the silent hall. "As you know, today is my son's birthday. He has been showered with many presents. There is one last present left to be presented.

      "He is now, in my opinion, old enough to have his own household. My servant Mehmet will go as his major domo and some of my slaves will be given to him for his pleasure."

      El Harren paused for a while as the feet stamping and table thumping began again.

      "There is one more thing needed to complete the gift," El Harren continued as the noise ceased. He turned to his son.

      "Sulieman. You will need something with which to pass the evenings." A loud snigger came from the men. "You may choose one of these two dancers for your entertainment."

      Sulieman rose to his feet and studied the prone slaves. This was a birthday to remember. His own household. His own slaves and now the choice of these dancers.

      He thought hard. The girl Judy was pretty enough but he had not yet seen her fortitude under discipline. She had screamed and struggled too much as he had taken her virginity, thus reducing his pleasure. Also, she looked too meek and would not present a difficult enough challenge for him to conquer.

      He turned his gaze on Samantha. In this one, he suspected, he would find a challenge. She was a true clan girl. She had withstood the whipping with courage and bravery, even if she had ended up screaming delightfully. His father had said he had enjoyed taking her virginity.

      "I thank my Father for his most generous gifts," he said turning to El Harren. "If it please my Father, I choose the auburn haired slut."

      "Well chosen, my son. Enjoy her, she is yours."

      El Harren's words had, fortunately for her, drowned the gasp of dismay that had left Samantha's mouth as she heard the son's choice. Now she belonged to that young sadistic pup. This would tax her resolve and control to the limit. The sooner she made her escape the better, she thought.

      "Mehmet. Take the slave to my quarters," Sulieman commanded.

      "Yes. My Lord." Mehmet's high pitched voice clearly displayed his pleasure at his promotion.

      Samantha felt a jerk on the collar and rose to her feet, keeping her eyes lowered in case her new Master saw the hatred burning there. She followed Mehmet from the hall, through the palace corridors until they reached Sulieman's quarters.

  Chapter 10

      The next day, Sulieman moved his quarters from the palace. Samantha was taken from the building and ushered into a covered cart. Where she was to be taken was a mystery. To ensure she did not escape, her ankles were manacled to a ring on an iron bar running down the centre of the cart.

      While she waited to be taken to her new prison, she passed the time in thinking of possible means of escape. It was something that was always on her mind. Her plan to lull El Harren's eunuchs into relaxing their vigilance over her was no use now

      She had to think of something else. She was alone. Judy was still held in El Harren's household and there was no way of knowing where the others were. There would be no way of conspiring with them. She must look to herself.

      Her thoughts were interrupted by a slight commotion at the rear of the cart. The flap was drawn aside and five more girls were pushed in and their ankles attached to the iron bar.

      To her surprise, Samantha saw that one of the girls was Su Lin, the others she recognised as part of El Harren's harem. Now, it seemed, they were to join her in Sulieman's power. All the girls looked terrified and Samantha saw tears flowing down several girls' cheeks.

      Samantha leaned across the cart to whisper to Su Lin but, before she could utter a sound, Mehmet thrust his head into the cart and ordered them to remain silent.

      The flap at the rear was laced up and the cart began to move. The slaves, having nothing to hold on to, were bounced around the floor as the cart moved over the rough surface of a road. After a short while, several horse riders ranged themselves on either side of the cart.

      Samantha carefully lifted the covering a little and peered out. The riders were all young and dressed in Sulieman's livery and chatted freely as they rode along.

      The caravan, for there were many loaded carts which had joined the procession, travelled for several hours passing through open country until it came to a large village scattered round a dark imposing castle surrounded by a high wall.

      The caravan passed over a wooden drawbridge, through a gateway with its raised portcullis, into a large courtyard. Here the slaves were ordered from the cart.

      Looking round, Samantha saw many buildings, obviously stables, store rooms and guards quarters, built onto the inside of the high wall. Above these ran a walkway on which guards could see over the wall without exposing themselves to an enemy outside. She did not fail to see that the portcullis had been lowered behind the caravan. She felt her heart sink. She was in a trap from which escape would be very difficult, if not impossible.

      Under Mehmet's direction, the group of slaves were led round the side of the main building to a side door. Once inside, they followed a long passage until they arrived at a heavy wooden door with several heavy  metal bolts.

      A guard, already stationed at the door, drew back the bolts and pushed it open. Mehmet led the slaves through into a large room. An ornate fountain played in the centre.

      Several doors, all open now, led into smaller rooms. One wall consisted solely of heavy stone columns and opened out into a small lawned garden with flower-beds full of fragrant blossoms.

      "This is Lord Sulieman's harem where you will stay when not only way in or out and will be kept looked and guarded," Mehmet explained to the slaves.

      "Su Lin is to be the First Girl. You will obey her as you would me," the eunuch continued. "Any trouble from any of you will be severely dealt with. Hassan has not come with us but Gotha will administer discipline. His arm is as strong if not stronger, than Hassan's so beware."

      With this warning, Mehmet left the room. The slaves began to explore their new surroundings.

      The sense of doom that Samantha had felt on seeing the building increased as she wandered around. What Mehmet had said was true. The only way out was through the bolted and guarded door.

      Samantha strolled around the room exploring the many alcoves that led from it. These opened out into smaller rooms where the slaves would sleep at night. One was a wash room with a sunken bath. She passed through the columns into the garden to find this surrounded by a high wall.

      Seeking opportunities for escape, Samantha did not at first take in the beautiful decor of the rooms or the many colourful blossoms in garden. She had to admit to herself that escape from here was out of the question.

      She shrugged off the feeling of helplessness. She would have to be patient, lull the new guards into slackness in their duties and hope an opportunity would arise somehow.

      For two days the slaves were mainly left to their own devices, Mehmet and probably Sulieman being fully occupied in settling into the new abode.

It was the early evening of the third day that Mehmet entered the harem and spoke quietly to Su Lin. He then summoned Samantha to him.

      "The Master has chosen you to serve him tonight," Mehmet said to the slave kneeling before him. "Su Lin will prepare you. You are to be ready in half an hour. See that you please the Master."

      Mehmet left the room and Su Lin, aided by the other girls began to ready Samantha. Her body was depilated, even her pubes. A quick bath followed then her hair was brushed, cosmetics applied to her face, nipples and sex lips and a subtle perfume dabbed all over her.

      Samantha quietly submitted to all this. She had no illusions as to what was in store for her. She watched in a detached way as the girls busied themselves with her. She was concentrating all her resources on mentally preparing herself. She dreaded what she knew would be required of her but she also knew she must please the man she was to serve. To fail would surely mean a terrible whipping.

      All too soon Mehmet returned. He carefully inspected the slave who stood naked before him. Finally satisfied, he draped a long white sheet over her and, taking her by the arm, led her from the harem.

      Samantha heard the door close behind her and allowed herself to be led to her fate. The sheet that covered her not only hid her from view but prevented her from seeing where they went. This irritated her as she desperately needed to get to know the geography of the inside of the castle.

      She was halted outside a door on which Mehmet knocked softly. The door opened and Samantha was led through and halted again. The sheet was lifted from her and Mehmet and the other man inside left closing the door behind them.

      Samantha looked quickly round the room. She gasped at the beautiful ornate decorations and furnishings until her eyes lighted on bed.

      Sulieman lay on his back on the bed, covered by a large sheet, his eyes lightly closed. He was waiting for her.

      Samantha thought back to the lessons with Lianne which seemed a lifetime ago. She had been taught now she had to put the teaching into practice, no matter how distasteful she might find the process.

      Slowly, keeping her eyes downcast, she approached the bed and knelt at the foot. Although her eyes were still downcast, she felt her Master's eyes upon her.

      Samantha waited or the signal, each passing moment taxing her resolve. She had to go through with it, not to do so would entail dire consequences.

      She was conscious of her Master spreading his legs wide, the signal for her to begin. She gently raised the bottom of the sheet and draped it over her head. Slowly and gently, she began to lick at the inside of his ankles, using only the tip of her tongue.

      Gradually she worked her way up the calves of his legs, tickling the hairs with her tongue and lips. Past his knees the hairs became more abundant and she eased her hands up and stared to use her fingers as well as her tongue, stroking ever so lightly.

      Her nose detected a strange aroma as she inched her way up the inside of his thighs. Raising her eyes she saw a mass of dark hair from which protruded his half flaccid manhood. Even in a state of semi repose it seemed massive. She shuddered as she imagined it in its fully erect state forcing its way into her tight love tunnel.

      Gently she licked at the stalk while her finger tips tickled the heavy sac that hung beneath. She heard her Master's breathing quicken and his shaft came alive. It grew taller and thicker and began to throb.

Just as Lianne had taught her, so long ago it seemed now, she took the crown of the shaft between her lips and slowly slid them down until she felt the top rubbing against the back of her throat. She just managed to stifle a sneeze as the mass of hair at the base tickled her nose.

      She continued her ministrations, gradually increasing the tempo and tightening her hold on the shaft. Her efforts were rewarded as her master's breathing increased and the object in her mouth grew hot and throbbed harder.

      Suddenly a hand grasped her hair and pulled her head away from him. Samantha nearly panicked. Had she done something wrong? Was she not pleasing him sufficiently?

      Once he had wrenched her head back, her Master shifted his grip. Two strong hard hands grabbed her arms and pulled her up the bed, turning her onto her back at the same time. She felt her arms pulled above her head and manacled to the corner posts. Her legs were thrust apart and Sulieman knelt between them.

Samantha had screwed her eyes shut as his hands had gripped her hair, now she dared to open them.

      While she had been hidden under the sheet she had again experienced the feeling of power as she had manipulated her Master's body. She had imagined that he was 'dancing to her tune.'

      Now, flat on her back, she looked at the muscular torso before her. How could a soft girl even imagine she could overpower such strength? Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as, lowering her eyes, she saw the massive weapon that would soon impale her. She shut her eyes tight trying also to shut out the thought of the searing pain that she knew would surge through her love tunnel any second now.

      Two hands landed heavily on the bed either side of her shoulders. She felt the end of his throbbing organ brush lightly against her sex lips. His mouth descended on hers his tongue forcing her teeth apart as it sought her own.

      A hand cupped under her breast and began to squeeze lightly as his fingers closed around her nipple. To her horror she realised it was hard and erect. She felt strange stirrings in her loins.

      Delicious sensations flooded through her. Sensations that she had only ever experienced once before. She felt a pang of disgust with herself as it dawned on her that she was enjoying what he was doing to her. Just as before her body was responding directly, she had no control whatever.

      What was happening to her? She was a warrior, trained from childhood to hate all men. To do without them in every way. She tried to heave herself up and dislodge him, throw him off her body and scream her hatred but his weight pinned her down and his mouth on hers muted her cry. Then his manhood slid into her.

      The expected pain did not come. Then she understood. She had already lost her virginity and her sex was soaking wet, lubricating and easing the passage of the intruder thrusting inside her. Shame flooded over her as her body betrayed her and welcomed the invasion of her most intimate parts.

      She sensed the room beginning to spin before her eyes. No longer could she control her body from responding to the fires which were raging through it. She thrust her hips upwards to meet his powerful thrusts.

      "You will not come," Sulieman ordered, his words coming in panting gasps in her ear. "You are here only to serve my pleasure."

      The unconcealed threat implied in his words sent an icy shiver through her body. What did he mean, she wondered? How could she stop her body responding when she had lost all control over it? This was a situation that Lianne had not prepared her for.

      Samantha was startled as Sulieman's body suddenly arched above her and he let out a loud shout. At the same instant she felt his emission jettison into her.

      To her relief he rolled off her and lay at her side. She was surprised to see that his body was covered in sweat that ran in rivulets over his shining muscles. Even more of a shock was to find that her body also was sweating.

      She came out of the daze as he released her wrists from the post. Remembering Lianne's teaching, she slid down the bed until her face was level with his still erect penis. She took it into her mouth and began to lick it clean, tasting the saltiness of his ejaculation mixed with the muskiness of her own juices.

      After a while, her ministrations were interrupted. She was pulled back up the bed, turned onto her back and entered again.

      This occurred several times throughout the night. Each time Samantha thought he had fallen asleep, he suddenly roused himself and took his pleasure of her. Each time the sensations in her body were stronger and even her mind ceased to rebel at the way she was being used.

      The last taking sent her body arching rigid in a bow under him and her shout joined his as an all consuming ecstasy engulfed her, sweeping away all thought as spasms and ripples spread out from her burning sex, locking her for a timeless period at a strange peak of delight, the like of which she had never suspected could exist. This was what had been missing when she had lost her virginity. This was the end of the journey she had felt her body beginning. A deep darkness enshrouded her.

      She began to surface to find herself on the floor at the side of the bed and Mehmet shaking her into wakefulness. She struggled to her feet and allowed herself to be half led, half dragged, from the room. Glancing round, she was surprised to see that there was no sign of her Master. After a visit to the wash room where she was thoroughly douched she was returned to the harem.

      Here Su Lin awaited her and questioned her deeply on the events of the night. The Chinese girl was surprised not to see bruises and weals on her body, for Sulieman was well known among the slave girls for the cruel treatment he inflicted on them when using their bodies.

      When Samantha came to relate the strange thing that had happened to her on the last taking, Su Lin's face clouded with horror. She was astounded that Samantha was unaware of what had happened and told her she had had a woman's orgasm and explained what this was.

      Samantha listened to the explanation carefully. She was learning something new. No one had told her of this before and she was very perturbed that a man, especially one she hated, could have this effect on her.

      "Did he give you permission to come, to orgasm?" Su Lin asked at the end of her explanation.

      "He never spoke a word the whole night except, early on, say 'you will not come. You are only here to serve my pleasure'" Samantha repeated his words.

      "He didn't release you from the order?" Su Lin asked.

      "I didn't understand what he meant," Samantha replied. "He said not a word after that."

      Su Lin's mouth dropped open with horror.

      "Then, by coming yourself, you disobeyed him. I am surprised he didn't have you beaten on the spot."

      Samantha began to tremble with terror. Surely he would not have her beaten for something she did not understand and which he, himself, had forced on her.

      Nothing more was said and, as the morning drew on, the episode faded in her mind as Samantha dozed on one of the divans.

She was suddenly awakened from her slumber as the door to the harem opened and Mehmet called her name. She rose, ran to the eunuch, and fell to her knees at his feet. She hated doing this but it was what was expected.

      "Come," the eunuch ordered.

      Shaking with fear, Samantha obeyed. She was led back to her Master's quarters and into his library. Sulieman was seated on a large chair. She sank to her knees in front of him, not daring to look into his eyes.

      "The little slave of last night." Her Master's voice at last broke the ominous silence that had descended on the room. "Su Lin informs me that it was the first time you had pleasured a man. I was impressed, you were quite good."

      Samantha, taken totally by surprise at these words, raised her eyes to his not knowing if she was expected to respond. To her further surprise, she saw a smile, not the usual cruel one, on his mouth and his eyes seemed to be laughing. This was completely the opposite of what she had expected and contrary to his reputation.

      "I am pleased my Master is satisfied with his slave," she blurted out in her confusion.

      "Not completely satisfied," he said, the smile still in his eyes and on his lips. "You did disobey me at the end."

      A shadow of doom descended over the kneeling slave. Her hatred for the man flared. She had done her best, completely against her will, and he was accusing her of disobedience for something she could not help.

      "I should send you to Gotha for a whipping," Sulieman continued, "but you were good for a beginner. So you will take eight with Mehmet's cane now. If you move you will still be sent to Gotha. Find somewhere to bend over."

      Samantha, inwardly seething, rose and looked around. If she was to be beaten and take it without moving she needed something to hold on to. She saw a table to one side. She chose this and slowly walked over to it and stood at one end. She bent over, pressing her body hard against the surface, and gripped the sides with her small hands.

      "Stand up. Two paces back then bend over as before," Mehmet commanded.

      Samantha obeyed. Now her shoulders only rested on the table with her breasts hanging free. This position would make it nearly impossible to take the beating without moving. Mehmet seemed determined that she should be sent to Gotha for the whipping.

      "Straighten your legs and keep them straight."  Samantha straightened her legs. Her hatred for the black and the man watching flared inside her and it was only a supreme effort of control that made her keep silent.

      Turning her head, Samantha saw Mehmet move to her side and unclip the cane from his belt. She screwed her eyes shut and tightened her grip on the table.

      Crack. A line of fire spread across her bottom.

      Crack. A second joined the first. The bent slave resisted the temptation to rub her thighs together to ease the pain. Only six more to come, she told herself. Somehow she must avoid being sent to Gotha.

      Crack. Crack. Two strokes in quick succession nearly broke her control as a cry of agony echoed round the room.

      Somehow Samantha kept her hands clamped to the table, pressing shoulders hard down onto its cool surface, and somehow keeping her legs straight as Mehmet laid on two more searing strokes.

      Sulieman watched as the six distinct weals lined the slave's cheeks. To his surprise, she had not moved and he found himself willing her to remain still for the last two. There was something different about this slave. Something that held back his customary delight in watching a female arse suffering punishment.

      The thought seeped into his mind that he was getting soft over this clan girl. This would not do. He signalled to Mehmet. He would make her move, he thought.

      Correctly interpreting the signal, Mehmet laid the next stroke across the back of Samantha's quivering thighs. The pain, and shock, was intense. Samantha screamed but her hands refused to loosen their grip on the table. They still held on as Mehmet applied the last stroke just below the previous one.

      With her buttocks and thighs on fire, Samantha could never understand how she had managed not to move from position during the beating. Somehow her hatred and determination had won through the ordeal.

      "Come close, slave. Show me your arse." Sulieman's voice pierced her mind.

      Samantha straightened up and went and stood in front of him, presenting her bottom for his inspection. She felt his fingers gliding lightly over the raised weals renewing the pain. She clenched her small hands tight and gritted her teeth to stop her moving or crying out.

      "Return the slave to the harem," Sulieman ordered.

      "The Master likes you, slave," Mehmet whispered to her as he conducted her back to the harem. "It is a good thing or you would be at the post now, being soundly whipped by Gotha. The Master normally deals terribly with girls who disobey him."

      Fearing that if she said anything her voice would betray her hatred of the huge black, Samantha remained silent, inwardly laughing because she had thwarted his attempts to make her move.

      Back in the harem, Su Lin gently smoothed the healing balm over the hard raised ridges on Samantha's buttocks. In response to Su Lin's questions, Samantha told her what had happened in her meeting with Sulieman.

      "The Master must have taken a fancy to you." Su Lin echoed Mehmet's words. "Usually he has a girl severely whipped if she disobeys him."

      "I don't think he does like me," Samantha replied between winces as Su Lin's fingers passed over a more tender weal. "He expected me to move. That way I would be caned and whipped. I showed them what a clan girl can do though."

      "Don't talk like that," Su Lin warned. "I do not want to have to report you."

      Samantha looked up at the Chinese girl. "You wouldn't report any of us knowing that we would be flogged? Would you?" Samantha asked.

      "I would not want to," Su Lin replied. "When he made me First Girl, the Master threatened me with hot irons on the soles of my feet if I failed to report any girl who did not behave properly."

      "That's not fair," Samantha gasped in horror. "Why did you agree to be First Girl knowing that?"

      "I had no choice. It was do as he said or be flogged and sold to a brothel keeper," Su Lin said in a whisper as the very thought of that terrible fate made her tremble.

      Samantha lay still and silent while Su Lin finished easing the soothing cream into her still burning cheeks.

      The enormity of her situation fully dawned on her. With the power of Sulieman held over the slaves, Samantha realised she could trust no one, not even Su Lin who had befriended her.

      The sooner she escaped from this vile captivity the better, she thought. She subsided into a light sleep in which she dreamed of leading an army of her clan against Sulieman. In her dream the clan were victorious, freed the slaves, and subjected Sulieman and his minions to exquisite and terrible tortures.         

Chapter 11

      It was several weeks before Samantha came face to face with her Master again. In the meantime, life in the harem for Samantha fell into a dull routine. The other slaves were sent for to serve the Master and each returned displaying clear evidence of his sadistic nature in one way or another.

      Even the eunuchs left her alone. They found fault with the other girls, and the inevitable thrashing followed, but not with her.

      In the resulting boredom, Samantha had neglected her exercises and dancing practice. It came as a shock, one day, when Mehmet informed her that a rigorous course of both must start immediately.

      "Why?" Samantha asked in surprise, even forgetting to call him 'Sir.'

      "You will do as I order," Mehmet retorted angrily, "and you will address me properly, unless you want a thrashing."

      Samantha, whose buttocks and back had had a respite from being beaten, fell to her knees before him.

      "I'm sorry, Sir. It will not happen again." She did not wish her body to suffer again under discipline.

      "Do not repeat the offence, or Gotha will have work to do," the black answered, bringing his anger under control.

      So, under the supervision of one of Mehmet's minions Samantha started to exercise and practice her dancing. The stiffness in her movements soon disappeared and she became, once again, lithe and supple.

      She could not understand what it was all in aid of since Sulieman, from the day of her caning, had appeared to have forgotten her existence.

      Eventually all became clear. Sulieman had some special guests attending on him in a few weeks time and Samantha was to entertain them at a banquet. Sulieman had been heard boasting of 'his dancing clan girl' and some of the guests had demanded a demonstration. It was virtually unheard of for a clan girl to be tamed sufficiently to be a satisfactory slave let alone a dancer. This was a novelty they did not intend to miss.

      Apparently Sulieman's boasting had annoyed one of his guests and he had proposed a contest. He would bring his own dancer and the two slaves would compete, the other guests being the judges.

The afternoon of the banquet arrived and Mehmet ordered Su Lin and Samantha to the main building where the latter would be prepared. It was then that Samantha heard for the first time of the contest.

      The humiliation of again having to dance before a lot of men was bad enough, but that this was to be a contest against an accomplished dancer was nearly more than she could bear. It was only the thought of Gotha's whips that made her hide her feelings

      What was more, if she lost the contest she didn't dare think of the consequences. For her own sake, rather than for the perverted pleasure of the watchers, she decided she would try her best.

      She was prepared as she had been for the performances before El Harren and his son. She regarded her reflection in the long mirror. To all outward appearances most men would regard her as a delicious piece of slave meat. Fully endowed by nature for their pleasure. There was nothing to show that under the delightful exterior burned the hatred of a clan girl for all men.

      Mehmet came to inspect her and, being satisfied, led her from the preparation room to a side room where the guests were finishing their meal. It was here that Samantha met her opponent for the first time.

      Mehmet introduced Samantha to Melina the other dancer. Samantha looked the girl up and down trying to hind the dismay she felt from appearing in her eyes.

      Melina, already adorned in her flowing costume, was slightly the taller of the two. Her raven black hair, tumbling in waves down her back, seemed to accentuate the milky whiteness of her flawless skin. The sheer transparency of her skirt failed to conceal the luxuriant growth at the base of her belly. Her nipples, already hard and proud, poked through the holds in her breast cups allowing the gold rings that pierced them to swing seductively as she breathed.

      The beauty and poise of the girl gave Samantha a sinking feeling in her stomach. This was greatly increased by the look of undisguised confidence on the girl's face and the disdaining look she gave Samantha in return.

      A shiver of terror passed through Samantha as she realised even then that she would lose the contest and suffer a terrible fate. This was made even worse by the knowledge that her Master had bet heavily on her, or so Mehmet had said.

      'Gotha will have work to do this day' Samantha thought to herself.

      Any further thoughts on this line were quickly banished from her mind as Mehmet called for the two dancers to follow him. Side by side the two girls, ignoring each other's presence, walked slowly behind the eunuch across the banqueting hall floor. They sank to their knees before the seated guests.

      The next hour or so passed in a haze for Samantha. The girls danced alternately together and singly each trying to outdo the other in the perfection of their performances.

      That Melina was an expert dancer was soon obvious and her dancing earned much approval from the audience. Samantha danced as if her life, not just her hind, depended on the result and also received much applause.

      Finally, the two girls knelt before Sulieman. Under her lowered eye lashes, Samantha peered up at his face. She could expect to see anger there and was surprised that she could only detect concern. Was this for the money that he had probably lost or for his slave's certain suffering that must follow.

      "We will have one more dance from each," Sulieman announced. "Then we will put their performances to the vote. Each slave may choose whichever dance she wishes to perform. They have three minutes to decide."

      Melina's Master and his chief eunuch took her to one side and a whispered conversation ensued.

      Mehmet took Samantha by the arm and hurried her from the room.

      "You are losing the contest," Mehmet said to her as soon as they were outside the hall. "There is only one chance left for you. You must do the 'Veil Dance.' Just the same as you did before."

      "Oh no! Please Sir, not that. Not in front of all those men," Samantha pleaded.

      "The Master has wagered heavily on you," Mehmet said sternly. "If you lose, his rage will be terrible. He will order a terrible punishment for you for certain. The 'Veil Dance' is your only chance. Even then, you will need to be perfect."

      "I will try my best, Sir," Samantha replied, the threat of losing overcoming her embarrassment and feeling of humiliation.

      With Su Lin's help, Samantha quickly stripped and the veils were put in place. Mehmet covered her from her shoulders down in a long thick sheet and led her, trembling violently, back to where the audience awaited.

      "Melina will dance first," Sulieman announced.

      Mehmet took Samantha to one side from where they could watch.

      "My slave will dance the 'Whip Dance'," Melina's master announced from his seat.

      The music began. Melina danced. Her Master's eunuch moved on to the floor, uncoiling a vicious looking whip. As the slave danced the eunuch cracked the long lash, time and time again in tempo with the music. The long lash cracked alarmingly, barely missing the girl's twisting body.

      For some ten minutes the dance held the watchers mesmerised. Towards the end of the dance, Melina's body was streaming in sweat and she was plainly very tired. So much so that once she faltered in her step and the lash caught her on her breast making her cry out in pain.

      Finally, Melina took the whip from the eunuch and, as the last roll of the drum sounded in the hall, sank to her knees in front of her Master holding the whip to her mouth and kissing it lovingly.

      As the applause from the audience died down, the eunuch pulled Melina to her feet and led her to one side.

      Mehmet guided Samantha to the centre of the floor, removed the sheet and moved back to the side of the hall. Samantha raised her hands, back to back, above her head and slightly bent her left leg.

      As she waited for the music to begin, she stole a quick look at her Master's face. While his lips smiled, she saw extreme anger flashing in his eyes. Unlike Melina's escort, Mehmet had not introduced Samantha's dance-the veils she wore spoke for themselves.

      Samantha felt her heart beat faster at the look in Sulieman's eyes. Was he angry at the dance chosen for her? Did he not want the audience to see her slowly strip naked? Was it possessiveness and the knowledge that his guests would see her unadorned that had aroused his anger? Would she be whipped?

      Her alarming thoughts were suddenly banished from her mind as the first chords of her music were struck. She began to dance.

      Twisting and turning, gracefully and seductively, she moved round the floor to the rhythm, stopping now and again perfectly still, her belly undulating to the beat of the drum.

      One by one she allowed the veils to slip away, thus gradually revealing more and more of her luscious body. Finally only one veil remained. A fine transparent film that, whilst covering her entirely, failed completely to conceal her beauty from the audience.

      She tried to hide behind this inadequate covering as long as possible, prolonging the dance and postponing the moment of humiliation that she was dreading.

      Finally she knew she dared not evade the moment any longer. The last veil floated away and she danced naked before the audience, moving around the hall, pretending to offer her body to first one guest than another as she glided past.

      Judging the moment perfectly she fell to the floor before her Master ending the dance exactly as she had the first time.

      The strains of the music faded. Samantha turned to her stomach and spread her arms sideways. She lay there, panting heavily, conscious of the sheen of sweat that glistened all over her body.

      To her horror, silence had descended on the hall. She had failed to please. Her dance was not to their liking. She lay there, dreading the moment when she would have to rise and face the anger of her Master.

      Then one of the audience began to clap his hands. Then the others gradually joined in, stamping their feet and banging on the table to show their approval.

      Samantha breathed a sigh of relief as Mehmet came and pulled her to her feet and took her to the side of the hall. She looked at Melina and was surprised to see a mixture of fear and respect in her eyes.

      Sulieman called for silence and the hubbub gradually died down.

      "My friends," he announced. "The time has come to judge the two slaves' performance. Mehmet, collect the votes."

      The two slaves waited as Mehmet went between the guests collecting the votes. He laid the papers on the table in front of Sulieman and Melina's Master and stood back. There was a few moments of shuffling and discussion then Sulieman stood up.

      "Both slaves have the same number of votes, but we can not have a drawn contest. A decision must be found," Sulieman announced then sat down again.

      Everyone began talking, each suggesting a means of deciding the contest. Eventually, one of the guests went and stood behind Sulieman and whispered in his ear. A knowing smile spread across Sulieman's face as he began to nod his head.

      Sulieman banged on the table for silence. "We have seen and judged the slaves' artistry without a result. So the contest will be decided on the slaves' endurance."

      The guests looked at Sulieman wondering what he meant. They were well aware of his inventive mind and waited expectantly for his explanation.

      "The test will be one of endurance and control," he continued. "Endurance and control whilst under discipline. The slaves will be beaten with a cane, a single stroke applied alternately, the first one to move before a count of ten seconds after receiving a stroke will be the loser. To ensure the contest is a fair contest, the slaves will beat each other."

      Samantha and Melina looked at each other, astonishment clearly showing on their faces. This was something neither of them had expected. As she listened to the rules of the contest being announced the fires of rebellion flared to white heat inside her. It was bad enough that she had undergone the humiliation of exposing her body to these men while she had danced. But now she was to be beaten purely as part of the evening's entertainment. She could almost feel and hear how the cane would whistle down and crack over her buttocks, and in her mind's eye she pictured the lascivious gazes of the audience as their eyes drank in the sight of obedient slave girls being tortured for their pleasure. It was too much! She wouldn't do it! But if she didn't.... then Gotha waited..

      "First," Sulieman continued. "The slave Melina will also strip naked."

      "Mehmet. Give Melina your cane. My slave will receive the first stroke. Mehmet, you will be the time keeper."

      Mehmet unclipped the cane from his belt at his waist and handed it to Melina.

      "Slave." Sulieman looked hard at Samantha. "Go to the centre of the floor and with your back to us, bend and hold your ankles."

      Samantha turned, walked to the place indicated, and bent over. Desperately she tried not to think of how her sex pouch would be pushing out from between her spread thighs towards the audience. And how, just above it, her buttocks would look so smooth and inviting while they waited for the livid strips of the cane to be applied. Her small hands gripped her ankles tight. She tried to remind herself that once she had held position for eight strokes from Mehmet. This should be easy, if she could just control her disgust at how she was being treated.

      She heard Melina's bare feet pattering across the floor. there was a loud whistling sound, then a loud Crack! A line of fire laced across her taut cheeks. Samantha clenched her teeth against the sob which tried to escape from her. There was dead silence in the room as she held still and felt the appalling heat rise within her buttocks and spread towards her throat.

      "Time," Mehmet called. The slave had not moved.

      Samantha straightened up proudly and turned round. Humiliating and cruel this treatment might be, but she was determined she would salvage what pride she could by winning this savage contest. As she took the cane from Melina she noticed the girl's hand was shaking and there was a look of fear in her eyes.

      Samantha looked at Melina's bottom as the girl bent for her stroke. She had never beaten anyone in her life before, let alone another girl. And such a beautiful one, her buttocks taut, smooth and gracefully curved The idea was repugnant to her but she knew it was something she had to do, and do well, or lose the contest. It was either Melina or her who would be whipped, and it wasn't going to be her.

      She tried to pretend she was doing more than beating a carpet and brought the cane down on the offered buttocks with all her strength. Melina stayed perfectly still and remained so until Mehmet called 'Time.'

      Samantha handed over the cane and bent over again the whistle and Crack! And again she endured the slow build of heat from the stroke until her time was up. Then, in her turn she took revenge on Melina's bottom, this time watching how the soft flesh rippled under the impact, but again Melina stayed down, and took the cane from Samantha once more.

      The audience watched in total silence as the girls endured their strokes. Each had taken eight and neither had moved until the count. Both sets of buttocks were now well striped. The strokes may not have been laid on by men of Hassan's or Gother's strength, but both girls had good reason to put their full weight into each lash.

      Bending for her ninth stroke, Samantha felt the pain building up in her bottom as the skin was stretched. The strokes were not anywhere as hard as she was used to but, even so, it was becoming harder each time not to move, particularly as she had to remain still while savouring the full stinging burn of each lash. The very slowness of the punishment was telling on her. Each time Melina straightened up the cane would have to be handed over, she had to present herself to the audience, wait for the stroke and then endure the after effects.

      It was as Melina straightened up after her tenth stroke and began to rub her hands over the weals, that Samantha knew she could win. Of this she was sure and the certainty enabled her to take three more strokes without moving. But she was having to bite her lip to stay still now.

      Samantha saw Melina's legs trembling as she waited, bent over and vulnerable, for the thirteenth stroke. This was the sign she had been waiting for. By now Melina's buttocks seemed more weal and bruise than clear flesh. Anywhere Samantha chose to lay on her stroke would overlay an earlier one. She knew her own were in just as bad a state and she wasn't sure how many more she could cope with. She had no emotion left now, no sympathy for the girl, no rebelliousness. She felt nothing but an exhausted determination not to be sent for a further flogging. She took a second to wipe the sweat from her eyes, let her breathing steady, then she settled her grip on the whippy shaft and swung. She targeted the crown of the buttocks where the shaft would make most contact with the already burning flesh. Gritting her teeth she pulled her arm back as far as it would go and propelled it down with such force that she grunted with the effort.

      There was a deafening report as the cane struck Melina's tormented buttocks.

      "No! Oh no!" Melina shrieked. Her whole body was shaking but, for a desperate moment, Samantha thought the girl would manage to keep still. Would she now have to face a fourteenth stroke?

      Mehmet was on the verge of calling the time when Melina's hands flew to her bottom and rubbed it furiously. Although she was still bent over, she had moved and had lost the contest. Samantha breathed a sigh of relief as she realised she had won and escaped a whipping.

      Sulieman called for the two slaves to be brought in front of him.

      "My slave is the winner," he announced. "Take them away, Mehmet, while I collect my winnings."

      The eunuch took the slaves by the arms and led them from the hall, back to the room where Su Lin waited in the room where Samantha had been prepared.

      Samantha looked at Melina and saw that she was shaking and weeping silently.

      "I'm sorry," Samantha said as she took the slave into her arms. "If I had lost, I would have been severely beaten. So I had to hit you as hard as I could. I am truly sorry."

      "It's alright." Melina said between sobs. "I was trying hard as well. You see, when my Master gets me home, I will be flogged with a whip for losing. He said twenty lashes."

      "It's not fair," Samantha blurted out, forgetting that Mehmet was still in the room. "It's not right that men can treat us this way. They are savage brutes. They beat us just for their pleasure. It's not right!"

      "Shush!" Su Lin whispered in Samantha's ear. "You must not talk like that about your Master. You have already been warned. Several times."

      Samantha quickly looked around the room and saw Mehmet. Su Lin was right, she had been warned several times. She knew Mehmet must have heard her and that she was in trouble when she saw the look of anger on his face.

      Nothing more was said as Su Lin and Samantha were led back to the harem where they were plied with questions by the other girls, while once again Su Lin worked on Samantha's beaten body.

      Neither spoke of Samantha's outburst. They thought it best since the atmosphere in the harem was always strained when it was known that one of the slaves was waiting on a summons to attend Gotha.

      To Samantha's astonishment, she was not sent for that night nor the next day. The other girls noticed that she was unusually quiet and withdrawn but put this down to having had to dance naked at the feast.

      It was not until the afternoon of the second day that the dreaded summons came. Mehmet ordered Samantha to be bathed and prepared.

      When Mehmet was satisfied with her appearance he draped a sheet over her naked body and put a collar, with a short lead, round her neck.

      Mentally preparing herself for the whipping to come, Samantha was taken by surprise when, instead of being taken to Gotha, she was led to her Master's quarters.

      She was led into her Master's bedroom and, as the door closed behind her, Mehmet removed the collar and sheet. Scared of making matters worse for herself, Samantha immediately fell to her knees. She had seen Sulieman lying on a divan with a sheet covering him and this added to her consternation.

      "You may go, Mehmet," Sulieman commanded "and send in the boy Kalim."

      Samantha heard Mehmet leave the room behind her.

      "Rise slave. Stand at the foot of the bed."

      Samantha obeyed. She kept her eyes lowered as she stood awaiting the next order. Inwardly she began to seethe. If she was to be flogged, why hadn't she been taken straight to Gotha? She almost wished she had. At least it would get the ordeal over with quickly, instead of being played with and tormented as her Master was doing.

      "So." Her Master's voice broke into her thoughts. "This is the slave who labels men as brutes, especially me no doubt. Such talk from a slave deserves a severe whipping does it not?"

      "Yes Master," Samantha answered, her voice shaky with fear. This conversation was the opposite of what she had expected.

      "Do you deserve a whipping?"

      "I do not think that a person who speaks their mind deserves to be whipped for it." Samantha replied.

      "Ah, but you are not a person. You are a slave, an animal, a creature who exists solely to please her Master."

      "I am not a slave, I am a clan girl. We bow our heads to no man." The recalling of her past in the clan had restored her courage. She was a clan girl, and proud of it. If she was to be flogged, let it be for proclaiming her loyalty to the clan and not for this brute's pleasure.

      "It seems you do not fear the whip. Perhaps I will have to find some other way to conquer you."

      "I do fear the whip," Samantha blurted out. "No one enjoys suffering pain, but pain will not make me submit. Not to you or anyone."

      Samantha began to tremble as a deathly silence filled the room. Perhaps she had gone too far.

      The silence was broken by the door behind her opening and closing and the sound of bare feet walking across the room.

      A young boy, no older than twelve years Samantha guessed, approached and stood at the side of the bed. He was naked but for the pouch which covered his genitals. In his hands he carried a thin cane and a heavy leather strap.

      "Ah, Kalim." Sulieman looked up at the youth. "You know what to do?"

      "Yes, Master," Kalim replied looking Samantha up and down. "She has a fine body, this one, and a nice bum."

      "Stop gloating, boy, and get on with it."

      "With pleasure Master." The boy turned to face Samantha. "You will pleasure your Master." He ordered.

      She was just about to refuse to take orders from the boy when she saw the look of hopeful expectancy in his eyes. Surely I am not expected to submit to this kid, she thought, perhaps even to take a beating from him?

      "Begin slave!" Sulieman's voice thundered round the room as if he had read her thoughts.

      Samantha knelt at the foot of the bed, raised the sheet, and insinuated her head and shoulders under the cover. Slowly she began to creep further up the bed, licking and kissing the inside of her Master's legs. She heard him snap his fingers and immediately the cane lashed across her bottom.

      The stroke, being delivered by a young boy, was a lot lighter than she was used to but it did sting all the same, falling as it did over the bruises only just starting to fade. A feeling of shame and humiliation flooded over her as she realised that she was to be beaten as she served her Master.

      Three times Sulieman snapped his fingers ordering three strokes across her bottom before she had worked her way up until her face was level with her Master's semi erect manhood. She hadn't been able to restrain a choked off cry at each lash. Her buttocks blazed and throbbed as they were beaten once again.

      As her fingers began to stroke his heavy sac and her tongue licked his shaft, the sheet was whisked off her. Out of the corner of her eye, Samantha saw the boy lean forward to see more clearly what she was doing. She felt her face redden with shame.

      She was unaware of any signals being given, but three times the leather strap descended across her back before the shaft on which she was concentrating became fully erect. A feeling of relief washed over her. Now she would be turned onto her back and the cane and strap could not reach her.

      But such relief was not to come. Fingers entwined themselves in her hair and her head was pulled away from Sulieman's body. She looked up, startled, straight into his dark eyes.

      "Impale yourself" she heard her Master order.

      Feeling her face flush and redden with embarrassment Samantha knelt astride her Master's body. As she began to lower herself, Kalim's hand grasped the base of the thick penis and guided it until it brushed her own sex lips.

      Dreading the pain that she anticipated as the massive organ stretched her, Samantha pushed herself down onto it. To her surprise, it slid easily into her. She had not realised it but her love tunnel was already dripping wet making the entry of the shaft smoother. When she felt Sulieman's hand on her hanging breasts, she was suddenly aware that her nipples were hard and erect. Once again she wondered what was happening to her. She was being beaten while she was serving the very man who was ordering the beating, and yet still her body was excited.

      As Kalim lashed the leather across her back, she took the shaft deep inside her. Immediately the heat the blows from the strap were engendering merged with the heat in her loins as she felt the huge shaft fill her channel and probe her depths.

      "Remember slave, you are to serve me. You are forbidden to come," Sulieman ordered as he began to pant with desire.

      Panic surged through Samantha. Panic because her body began to make demands on her while her mind rebelled at the sense of submission that was taking her over. She kept reminding herself she was a clan girl and was only performing to avoid the whip.

      Kalim must have read her thoughts for the cane suddenly lashed twice, much harder this time, across her rising buttocks and she cried out at the excruciating pain.

      Up and down she moved on the shaft, feeling her muscles tightening on it and sending wild shafts of pleasure through her body. Her rebellious mind gradually lost the battle for control as her body's demands grew.

      Even the constant lashing of the cane across her buttocks and the leather on her back did not quench the feelings surging through her. She even began to move in time to them. The piercing stinging in her bottom driving her down to grind her hips against her Master's pelvis, and the unbearable burning on her back at each cracking lash of leather onto it, making her arch and rise from him, only waiting for the cane to send her down again. Each torment seemed to enhance the exquisite pleasure which was steadily building inside her.

      Despite the strict control Sulieman was exerting, his shaft began to grow hot and to throb inside his slave driving her needs beyond her control.

      "Please Master," she gasped. "Please permit me to come!"

      "It is forbidden," her Master gasped back. The slave was really putting everything into it now, each downward thrust in response to yet another slash of the cane driving the air from his lungs.

      Finally, when Sulieman could control himself no longer, Samantha felt his ejaculation pump into her. Holding back the sense of frustration and the hatred it aroused, she forced herself to milk him dry and then slid down his body and cleaned him with her tongue.

      Still Kalim continued to apply the cane and leather to her body, not hard enough to hurt badly now, just hard enough to send a crisp report around the silent room and make her flinch. The sight of Samantha's shapely young body, already well whip marked, writhing and jerking under the continual rain of blows, and the ardent attentions of her tongue, lapping slavishly at his sex had its inevitable effect on her Master.

      The organ, which Samantha was still licking and sucking, began to regain its rigidity.

      "Ride me again, slave," Sulieman ordered.

      Fearing to disobey but dreading the effect another taking would have on her body, Samantha obeyed.

      Once more she straddled him with wide spread thighs and holding him with her own hand this time, sank down onto his member. As her muscles again closed around the thick shaft, she felt her body being to respond yet again. She tried to alleviate the desires that were, against her will, mounting inside her by concentrating on the strokes of the cane and leather that Kalim rained down on her back and bottom.

      "Ahh!.... Please Master," she gasped as another lash cracked across her shoulders. "Ahh!.... Do not torment your slave. Ahh!.... Please give her permission to respond," Samantha begged, no longer able to deny the needs his possession of her body was arousing.

      "It is forbidden."

      The command sent shivers of hatred and submission through her. Her mind shouted to her not to give in to his determination to master her, while her body screamed for blessed relief from the torments that were devouring her.

      Somehow, she never knew how, she managed to control herself until his semen was again injected deep into her. And all the time, maddeningly, the strap and the cane licked at her, making her writhe on the shaft which impaled her, and stirring dark pleasure deep within her. Twice now she had begged him. The remembrance of her weakness only added fuel to the sense of disgrace that filled her mind. She wondered if she would ever be able to look another woman, let alone another clan girl, in the face, knowing how the whip and her Master's shaft had driven her to such delights that she had had to beg for release.

      She prayed that, now that he had used her twice and made her beg on both occasions, she would be dismissed and allowed to curl up in a corner of the harem with her disgrace. To her consternation, her prayer was not to be answered.

      She had just about finished cleansing him for the second time when she felt a hand grasp her hair. She was pulled up the bed and turned onto her back. She looked down her body, between the aching breasts whose nipples were sore from the attentions of Sulieman's fingers, and a cry escaped her lips as she saw his hard erect penis.

      Realising that he was about to take her yet again, Samantha began to struggle. She could not endure the humiliation of begging him again nor the thought of the terrible whipping that she would receive if she came without permission.

      It was certain to her that, as sure as day followed night, she would do one or the other.

      Her small young body was no match for his powerful strength. Her legs were forced apart, two hands gripped her swollen breasts, and he descended on her, driving his hard shaft deep into her. She writhed under him, rubbing her sore back and buttocks on the material beneath her while the rock hard shaft plundered her stinging sex and his weight pressed her down onto her weals and bruises so that even though she was saved from the arousal of the strap and the cane themselves, their legacy of pain forced her to grit her teeth against the rising tides of joy.

      His took his pleasure of her fiercely until she began again screaming for his permission to release her slender control.

      Looking up into his face, Samantha saw the smile of cruelty on his lips. He knew the torment he was causing to the writhing slave beneath him. He increased the force of his plunges and looked with undisguised satisfaction into the pleading eyes of his slave. In that moment he knew he had conquered, or so he thought.

      "You have my permission to come," he panted as, with a final violent thrust he went even deeper inside her and released his juices.

      His permission came just in time for the slave. Her body arched, lifting him high. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as a shattering explosion threatened to blow her mind apart. Stars and lightning flashed before her eyes as the slave experienced the orgasm of her young life.

      The darkness began to clear, giving way to a white mist. Samantha opened her eyes to find herself in Mehmet's arms. He carried her back to the harem where he dropped her unceremoniously onto the floor in one of the side rooms.

      Samantha, still naked, looked up to see the other girls crowded in the room. She was suddenly conscious of her nakedness, of the marks of the cane and leather on her body, the bruises on her breasts, and worst of all the stream of sticky fluid on the inside of her thighs.

      Unable to face the looks of concern on the girls' faces and her own shame, Samantha crawled into a corner of the room, curled up and burst into a torrent of tears. Su Lin and the others tried, unsuccessfully to comfort her and finally gave up and left her to her misery.

  Chapter  12

      After that shattering experience, Sulieman did not send for Samantha for several weeks. During this time, with the help of Su Lin and the others, she gradually regained her composure. At least outwardly.

      Inside her a battle continued to rage between her body and her mind. She felt disgusted and ashamed, not so much at the way she had been used, but at the way she had allowed herself to be manipulated into screaming her submission. For that was what begging to succumb to her needs had meant.

      She knew that, if she was subjected to that sort of treatment too often, her mind would lose the battle and she would totally submit to her body's desires. Once that happened she would be lost. She would become a total slave, not just to Sulieman but to any man who used her body for his pleasure.

      She must resist that at all costs, even if it meant enduring frequent visits to Gotha. No man could tame her with the cane or whip alone. Pain only fuelled the hatred against the men who could inflict such treatment on her.

      There was only one answer to her predicament. She must escape. Escape away from the clutched of men and the desires they could arouse in her. She must return to the clan where she would be safe.

      She was constantly on the look-out for a means of getting away but the design of the building gave no help and she was too well guarded. Periods of despair between bouts of determination became more frequent.

      Although she was not summoned to Sulieman's bed, a relief for which she was thankful, she was ordered to dance for him, quite often when he was alone and sometimes to entertain some favoured guests. Her ability as a dancer had become widely known and to be invited to see her dance was considered a great honour by her Master's acquaintances.

      One evening she had just finished performing the 'Veil Dance' for one particular guest. She was still lying prone on the ground, panting with exhaustion when she heard the guest address her Master.

      "I would beg a boon, my friend," the guest said. "I am entertaining a very prominent person next week from whom I desire a great favour. It would assist in making him more amenable to my requests if I had a dancer of her ability to entertain him. Would you consider hiring this slave to me for the evening?"

      Samantha stifled a horrified gasp. She hated dancing, especially naked before men. Only the threat of the whip made her obey, but she felt a pang of pleasure that she should be considered good enough to be hired out.

      "I'm sure we can come to some arrangement," she heard her Master reply. "But she is not to be used for pleasure. If you get my meaning."

      "It will be difficult to abstain. She has such a luscious body. However, if those are your terms, I agree."

      "Then consider her at your disposal. There is, as a matter of fact, a service you can perform for me in return," Sulieman whispered as he leaned toward his guest.

      Samantha heard no more of the conversation. Mehmet pulled her to her feet and from the room back to the harem.

      For the next few days, Samantha was preoccupied. The prospect of being hired out, just like an animal, made her angry until she realised it would mean being taken out of her Master's palace. Would she get a chance to escape? The one barrier that she had been unable to overcome, the prison where she was confined, would be removed even if only for a short time.

      She was so deep in these thoughts that several times she failed to obey an order from Mehmet or one of his minions. Eventually the eunuch summoned her to one side.

      "Your disobedience has not gone unnoticed," he said in his high pitched voice. "You are to remain unmarked until after you have entertained Lord Sayed and his guest. The Master has so ordered. But, on your return, you are to be taken to Gotha for a sound taste of his lash. Now attend more diligently to your duties."

      Samantha shivered with fear. She had not, no far, suffered a whipping from the huge giant but she had seen two of the girls who had. The sight of their pale backs, covered with a mass of terrible weals, had made her feel really sick. The idea of being sent to him herself was unthinkable.

      This was an ordeal she must avoid at all costs. After her performance for Lord Sayed it was now imperative that she did not return here.

      The day of her loan to Lord Sayed eventually came. She and Su Lin were taken from the harem. Mehmet manacled their wrists behind their backs and a thin long black cloak and hood was put on them. To Samantha's relief, there was a small square cut in the front of the hood, covered with a fine gauze, through which she was able to see.

      The two slaves, together with cases containing Samantha's costumes and cosmetics, were loaded onto a covered cart.

      The cart, with Mehmet and one of his minions on the driving seat, set off at a steady pace. Samantha breathed a sigh of relief as the doors of the palace closed behind them. The journey lasted about an hour and Samantha spent the whole time taking careful note of the route and the surrounding countryside.

      Her spirits gradually rose as she smelt the prospect of freedom. This would be a golden opportunity to escape she decided. The main problem would be getting out of the cart unnoticed sometime during the return journey. Hopefully this would take place in the late evening when, if not already night, darkness would not be far away.

      They arrived at Lord Sayed's mansion in the late afternoon and the two slaves were conducted to a room near his banqueting hall. This pleased Samantha as she did not want to be ogled by the harem slaves.

      Under Mehmet's supervision, Samantha allowed herself to be bathed and groomed by Su Lin. As she stood naked before a large mirror Mehmet stood close behind her.

      "Dance well this evening slave," he whispered in her ear as his large hands slid down her back and over her bottom. "If you fail to please, your visit to Gotha tomorrow will be even more painful."

      Samantha choked back a scathing retort. She must make the eunuch so pleased with her, make him think that she was totally submissive, that this vigilance would be less strict.

      "I will do my best, Sir," she replied as demurely as she could. "Lord Sayed will send back a very good report, I promise."

      "Good." Mehmet gave her backside a gentle pat. "See that he does."

      "What dances am I to perform, Sir?" Samantha asked, keeping her voice soft and submissive.

      "Whichever you think you do best," Mehmet replied. "But you must include the 'Whip Dance' and end with the 'Veil Dance.'"

      "I understand, Sir." Samantha answered. "Will you be my whipper for the 'Whip Dance'?"

      "Of course."

      "Then please make it snap very close, but not so close that it touches me."

      "It will be close. It is up to you to see that it does not hit you, slave." A wicked leer spread across the eunuch's face.

      Samantha thought it wise not to pursue this topic any further and stood silent while Su Lin applied the cosmetics to her face and body, bedecked with jewelry and helped her don the costume for her first dance.

      Mehmet carefully inspected her and then left them alone as he went to advise Lord Sayed that the slave was ready.

      It was some half hour before Mehmet returned to say that the time had come for Samantha to perform. Hardly a word was spoken between the two slaves during the interval and Samantha used the silence to think herself into the right frame of mind to perform well.

      She was led by Mehmet into a large room, one corner of which had been screened off. Su Lin, carrying the other items of costume into which Samantha would change, settled herself behind the screen.

      Samantha performed several dances. As she moved around the floor she studied Lord Sayed and his guest. Whereas the Lord was fairly young and still handsome, the guest was much older and running to fat. His pig-like eyes never left Samantha for a moment as she danced and his fixed gaze made her feel uncomfortable.

      She tried to avoid looking at the man, but was still conscious of the lechery in his eyes. Only the threat of Gotha's strong arm and the whip in his hand made her try her hardest to be pleasing.

      The evening progressed. Samantha performed, receiving some encouragement in the stilted applause that followed each dance. She lost her concentration for a second during the 'Whip Dance' to be rewarded by the lash stinging her left flank. From then on she was more careful.

      Finally she went behind the screen to be readied for the last time. The 'Veil Dance' Lord Sayed had told Mehmet to order her to perform this exactly as she had done when he saw her before, but this time she was to concentrate on his guest and dance for him alone. This order nearly shattered the tight control she had exerted so far.

      As she moved out onto the floor to begin, she tried to visualise in her mind's eye the scene that awaited her on her return. Gotha holding the whip that was to lash her body.

      She began to dance, directing her attentions on the fat man as she had been ordered. Several times she just managed to avoid his groping hands as she danced close to him. One by one the veils were discarded until only the one fine film was left. One film that did nothing to hide the desirability of the body beneath.

      Samantha turned and twisted provocatively, using the final veil to seduce her audience until she could put off the moment no longer. She came to a standstill before the repulsive fat man and, undulating her belly rapidly, shed the last veil. Naked she danced for some time until, as the music came to an end, she sank prone on the floor her watchers.

      "I must have that slave for the night," she heard the fat man shout. She could not see him but she shuddered as she imagined his face suffused with lust for her.

      "My friend," Lord Sayed answered. "If she were mine, I would be honoured to grant your wish. However she is not mine. She is on loan to me on the express understanding that she delights us with her dancing but nothing else. Her owner, Sulieman, is not one to cross. Besides I may wish to hire her again."

      "I must have her." The fat man wheezed. "I have never had a clan girl nor one that sets my blood running as she does."

      "I regret that to grant your wish is not in my power. I suggest you approach her Master and see if you can make an arrangement with him."

      "Remove the slave," Lord Sayed said turning to Mehmet.

      Fortunately for Samantha, she heard nothing more of the debate. Mehmet pulled her to her feet and, calling to Su Lin to collect the rest of her costumes, escorted the two slaves from the room. As she passed through the door, Samantha saw the fat man beckon to his servant. The servant nodded as the fat ogre whispered in his ear.

      Mehmet seemed in a hurry to leave Lord Sayed's residence, so much so that he failed to secure Samantha's wrists properly behind her back.

      Seated again in the cart for the return journey, Samantha was glad to be away from Lord Sayed and his repulsive guest. As the journey continued, her relief was short lived as the prospect of the meeting with Gotha got nearer.

      Her thoughts were violently interrupted as a sudden commotion erupted outside the cart. There was the sound of fighting, of heavy blows. Suddenly the covering at the rear of the cart was pulled apart and two muscular arms reached in and dragged her out.

      She fell to the ground and the impact released the manacles on her wrists. She quickly recovered her wits and looked around. Several men had engaged Mehmet and his assistant in a rough brawl. The man who had pulled her from the cart had slipped in the mud and lost his balance.

      Samantha realised this was the chance she had been praying for. She got to her feet and began to run. Being late evening, it was quite dark and she soon found that she had outrun any pursuit.

      She stopped running and waited, perfectly still, until she had regained her breath. She had escaped! Her dream had come true! But even so her troubles had only just started. Under the cloak she was naked. The cloak itself was a giveaway but, if she discarded it, her nakedness would mark her as an escaped slave immediately.

      She must find alternative clothing. But how? She could steal something but, if caught afterwards, her fate would be beyond thinking about.

      She had to get well away from the area and quickly. She decided that she might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. She must steal, not only some clothes, but also a horse.

      She removed the cloak and, with her teeth, torn at the seam that attached the hood. This came away easily and she replaced the cloak and used the material of the hood to make coverings for her feet. The disguise, if it could be called that, would only protect her in the dark. It would not help much in daylight.

      She started off again, heading in the direction she thought would lead away from Lord Sayed's domain. For most of the night she stumbled through thickets, over fields until she came to a shallow stream. She waded along this until the cold of the water numbed her feet. She climbed back on to the bank reluctantly. Had she gone far enough in the water to throw any trailing dogs off her scent?

      Fatigue overcame her desire to put as much distance between her and any pursuit. She burrowed her way into a dense thicket and instantly fell asleep.     

  Chapter 13

      She slept soundly and awoke just as dusk was falling. She washed away the remnants of drowsiness in the cold water of the stream and set off again on her journey.

      After a while she approached some buildings. Carefully avoiding the main dwelling she headed for what she hoped was the stables. Holding her breath, she eased the door open and slipped inside. It was a stable with several horses tethered in their stalls.

      Cautiously, using the skill she had been taught in the clan, she approached one of the horses. Gently stroking its muzzle she untied its halter and led it out of the stable picking up several empty sacks from a pile as she passed through the door.

      She left the door open, hoping that the owner would think the horse had escaped rather than been stolen. Once out of hearing from the buildings, she leapt onto the horse's back and urged it into a fast trot.

      Keeping well away from any signs of habitation, she rode for the whole of the night, stopping only to rest the horse and gather berries to eat herself. As day dawned she found a secluded glade in the forest through which she had been travelling, tethered the horse and settled down to rest. She was, she decided, too near the domains of Lord Sayed and Sulieman to risk travelling by daylight.

      When evening came she set off again and eventually saw signs of a small village in the distance. By now she was suffering from acute hunger and decided to risk entering the village once night fell to search for food and clothing.

      Under cover of darkness and leaving the horse tethered in a copse, she crept into the village. The buildings were in darkness and, fortunately, no dogs roamed loose.

      Silently she tried several doors until she found one that the occupier had failed to close properly. She tip toed into a kitchen and began to look around. She soon found the food larder and began helping herself, being careful to take a little from here and there so that nothing would be missed.

      Clothing was another matter. Whatever she took would surely be missed at daybreak. She was about to give up when she saw a large chest in a corner. She lifted the lid and found it full of old clothes. She delved deep and pulled some articles from the bottom.

      Carefully clutching her loot, she slipped out of the kitchen and made her way back to the horse. She sank to the ground and greedily began to eat some of the food. The rest she decided to save.

      Having eaten, she examined the clothing. To her joy, she found this was man's wear. She dressed herself and bundled her hair under a cap. from a distance she thought she might pass as a man. The rest of the clothes and food she wrapped in the cloak to tie on her back.

      She must have dozed off for the next thing she knew day had broken and warm sunlight played on her refreshed body. She shook herself awake, mounted the horse, and set off once again. In case her thieving had been discovered, she decided to risk travelling by day from now one.

      She drank in her freedom as she rode. She had escaped and was, she was sure, well away from any chance of pursuit.

      Certainly Mehmet, smarting terribly from Sulieman's anger, would not think she could have got so far away and would be searching much nearer to Lord Sayed's domain.

      Samantha continued for several days and nights, taking only a little sleep now and then to give the horse a chance to feed and rest. Farther and farther she travelled away from the regions controlled by Lord Sayed and Sulieman. Her hopes of returning to her clan rose with every league travelled, until she was sure her escape had succeeded.

      However, fate had decreed that Samantha would never have the happiness of rejoining her clan.

      The prospect of success made her make the fatal mistake of allowing her concentration to lapse. She had been thinking of the reception she would get from her fellow clan girls when they heard of her escape from captivity. It was considered stupid to get captured in the first place, but any girl, once caught, who escaped and returned to the clan was treated as a heroine.

      She was passing through a small wood door when three rough looking individuals sprang out of the trees at her side. Before she could recover, one seized the horse's halter and brought her to a halt.

      "What have we here?" one called to his friends.

      "Not much worth stealing," another replied.

      "Let go of my horse," Samantha ordered trying to make her voice sound like that of a man.

      "Get down off it," the first brigand ordered. "At least we can sell the beast. We will not go empty handed."

      "I will not," Samantha replied, still keeping her voice as deep as possible.

      "Sure you will," the third brigand, who had moved behind her, said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ground.

      Samantha fell heavily. Her cap fell off her head and her auburn hair shook loose.

      "Well. Well. Look what we have here," the leader said in amazement pulling Samantha to her feet. "A woman trying to disguise herself as a man."

      "What would a woman be doing riding alone?" asked the third brigand. "Her horse does not even have a saddle."

      "There's some mystery to this," said the leader thoughtfully. "Hold her."

      Fear suddenly stirred Samantha into action. As one of the men reached to grab her arms, she shot her clenched fist at his face. More by luck than judgment the blow, not hard enough to do damage normally, caught the man on the end of his nose.

      The shock of the blow, and the tears that streamed into his eyes, halted him in his tracks. Samantha took advantage of the confusion and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Sounds of pursuit behind her spurred her on. She looked behind her and, not seeing anyone, began to circle back to where she had left the horse. She needed it to ensure a quick getaway from the area.

      Very gently, holding her breath, she parted the bushes and saw the horse grazing at the side of the track. She crept forward and reached out towards the halter. She was about to jump onto the horse's back when two strong arms encircled her waist. Her sigh of relief turned to a cry of dismay as she realised she had fallen straight into the obvious trap.

      "I've got the bitch," the man called to his companions.

      With a great deal of noise, the other two men pushed their way through the bushes and stood facing her.

      "Who are you?" demanded the leader. "What's your name?"

      Samantha, still trying to bluff her way out of the situation, kept silent. The last thing she wanted was for the men to discover her identity.

      "Lost your tongue, have you?" the leader said menacingly. "Strip her. See if she has any money hidden on her."

      Stripping her took only a matter of seconds. The men stood looking first at her then at the pile of sacks that she had been wearing under the cloak. They all had puzzled looks on their faces.

      Samantha stared back at them trying to look as haughty as she could. Then a smile spread across the leader's face as the truth dawned on him.

      "I do believe we have caught an escaped slave girl," he said. "I wonder if her Master has put up a reward for her return? We will keep her with us until we get to the nearest town. The authorities will have details of all escapees."

      "If she is a slave, she has no right to strike a free man," the one Samantha had hit said. "That calls for severe punishment."

      "It will be a few days before we reach the town," the leader said. "She can be our slave until them. That luscious body will pay for her food and our effort."

      "What about her punishment? My nose still hurts."

      "Go ahead, but don't damage her too much. Take her deeper into the wood. I'll follow with the horse."

      Held by each arm, Samantha was marched deeper into the wood until they came to a clearing. A rope, one end tied tightly to her wrists, was thrown over a branch of a tree. The rope was pulled taut and Samantha's body was stretched as they continued to haul her up until her feet dangled helplessly several inches above the ground. Turning her head to look over her shoulder and trying to ignore the pain in her arms, she watched him walk to her left and raise his arm. He held a switch.

      "This will teach you to keep your hands to yourself," he said as the switch whistled through the air.

      The switch laced across her bottom leaving a white line that quickly turned red. Samantha gritted her teeth.

      Stroke after stroke rained down on her buttocks, back, the back of her thighs and even the back of her calves. Her body swung on each impact as she struggled and twisted to try and avoid the lashing. Somehow she managed not to cry out.

      "She's a stubborn one," her punisher said as he gasped for breath with the effort of flogging her. "Perhaps this will make her yell."

      Through the tears that clouded her eyes, Samantha saw the man move forward to her other side. As he raised the switch a look of disbelief flashed across the suspended girl's face.

      'Not there,' she thought. 'He wouldn't hit me there.'

      She had seen the man's eyes feast themselves on her upthrust breasts. That was exactly where the switch struck next. Right across her nipples. A loud scream rent the air as Samantha's body jerked violently with the pain.

      Four more strokes across her breasts and one between her writhing legs, cutting across her sex lips, wrung more screams from her and broke her control. The haphazard method of the beating, the strokes lashing her all over her body, was a new and terrifying experience.

      She saw the man's arm rise again and knew the switch was aimed at her flaming breasts. Her pride and self control broke.

      "Please. Please. No more!" she screamed. "I will do anything you want but don't whip me there again."

      The leader grabbed the man's raised arm. "That's enough. At least for now. We have other things in store for this one."

      The rope was slackened off and her wrists untied. The sobbing slave collapsed on the ground, huddled in a bundle, trying to ease the pain in her body that felt as if it had been stung all over by vicious insects. Inwardly she smiled to herself. Her ruse had worked and saved her from further punishment.

      Her elation was short lived however. She was turned to her back, her arms above her head, and her legs spread wide. First the leader then the other two took turns to use her. Her back, buttocks and legs suffered as each man thrust inside her and took his pleasure. She lost count of how many times she was used.

      Eventually, the men tired of their sport and they decided to make camp where they were. Watched carefully, Samantha was made to cook their meal and serve them. Despite the fire that burned where the switch had struck, she was ravenously hungry and, sinking her pride, gratefully accepted the meager scraps they fed to her.

      She spent an uncomfortable night lying near a tree, her ankles and wrists securely tied to its trunk.

      For the next two days the group trekked across the countryside, camping at night. The men kept a close watch on their captive, never allowing her out of their sight and tying her securely at night. She was made to cook their meals and groom the horse and submit to their use of her whenever the urge took them. Any sign of lack of cooperation on her part earned her a sound switching with the rod that the leader kept with him.

      At last they reached a large town and the leader put the cloak over Samantha to hide her from prying eyes. First the men sold the horse then took her to the authorities.

      Standing face to face with the local magistrate, Samantha tried to bluff her way out of the situation. She gave a false name and history and accused the men of attacking her, robbing her and misusing her.

      The magistrate heard her out in silence then started to guffaw loudly.

      "A very pretty story," he said when his laughter had subsided. He reached for a pile of papers and began to read from one. He read out a very accurate description of Samantha, even pointing out the tiny mole on the inside of her left thigh. There was no doubt she fitted the description perfectly.

      "Congratulations." He addressed the brigands' leader. "This girl is the escaped slave Samantha. The property of Lord Sulieman who has put up a reward for her. I will take charge of her and send a message to her owner. When he confirms her identity, the reward is yours."

      Samantha was kept locked in a cell in the local prison for six days. She was kept in solitary confinement well away from the other prisoners. Twice, during this time, she heard the sounds of some unfortunate suffering under the local executioner's lash. Each stroke making her shudder as it foretold what was in store for her once she was returned to her Master.

      On the seventh day, she was dragged from her cell to again confront the magistrate. This time he was accompanied by Mehmet. Her true identity was quickly established and she was handed over into the care of the huge eunuch.

  Chapter  14

      The journey back to Sulieman's palace took three days. Completely hidden in a black cloak, Samantha was tied on the back of a horse during the day and locked in some building or other at night. Mehmet gave her no chance to escape again.

      The nearer they came to their destination the greater Samantha's apprehension grew. She was a recaptured slave and knew her Master would show no mercy. The only consolation she could find was that, no matter how strong his anger, he would not waste money to get her back just to kill her. Or would he? It would tally with his perverse nature to do just that!

      She prayed that at least her life would be spared and the opportunity to escape again might come her way.

      On arrival to her Master's palace, Samantha was locked into a cell deep in the dungeon under the building. Here she spent the remainder of the day and the night dreading the retribution that would surely be wrought on her young body for her sins.

      She was taken from the cell the next morning. With sinking heart she mounted the stone steps to ground level. She was taken to a wash room to be bathed under the supervision of three older women. Her hair was brushed and cosmetics applied. Not for the first time Samantha wondered why a slave was made to look her best before being taken for punishment.

      When she was prepared to Mehmet's satisfaction, she was led before her Master. As she knelt before him she looked into his eyes. She saw nothing but anger there.

      "So you ungrateful bitch," Sulieman spat his words at her. "You will learn to appreciate my hospitality. Normally an escaped slave is put to death. In your case that would be too quick."

      In the short pause that followed, relief at the removal of her worst fears made Samantha breathe a silent sigh of relief.

      "I believe you intended to try and return to your clan," she heard her Master continue. "I understand that a girl who wears a brand is never accepted back into the sisterhood. To discourage any further aspirations in that direction, you will be taken to Gotha and branded."

      Samantha began to shake. It was a fact. No girl who permitted herself to be branded was ever allowed back into any clan.

      "Before you were sent to entertain Lord Sayed, you were under sentence of a whipping for disobedience. After the branding that sentence will be carried out. Twenty lashes. Also you will receive a hundred strokes of the cane for the bother you have caused by your escapade. The caning to be spread over two sessions."

      Samantha raised her eyes and looked in horror at her Master. The whipping and caning was only to be expected. To be branded, on the other hand, was the worst thing that could be done to her.

      She was about to throw her pride to the wind and beg for mercy when she saw the unforgiving look in his eyes.

      She saw Sulieman give a signal and two of Mehmet's eunuchs pulled her to feet. She was led from the room to one of the open courtyards in the centre of which two thick wooden posts had been erected in the shape of an 'X'.

      Still shocked by the fate that was about to be inflicted on her, Samantha was placed with her back to the posts. Her body was spread eagle and tied to the frame. She tried to wriggle but she was held secure. She could not move any part of her except her head.

      As she awaited her ordeal, the courtyard gradually filled with people. She saw her sister slaves, all the eunuchs and the guards and other servants. Then Sulieman arrived and sat on a chair facing her.

      The silence that had descended over the gathering was broken by a gasp from the slaves as two guards entered carrying a brazier containing white hot coals. They set this down in front of the slave.

      "The slave, Samantha, is guilty of attempting to escape," Sulieman announced. "She will now be marked for her crime. Let this serve as a warning to all. Escape is not possible and any caught attempting such will receive the same treatment."

      As his words died away, Gotha entered the courtyard. He stopped in front of Sulieman and bowed.

      "Proceed," Samantha heard her Master order.

      The executioner put on a pair of heavy leather gloves and turned to the brazier. Samantha watched in horror as he withdrew a branding iron from the coals. The end, fashioned in the shape of the letter 'S', glowed white hot.

      Gotha raised the iron in front of Samantha's face so she would see the instrument with which she was to be marked. The heat made her break out in a fine sweat. Slowly the iron was lowered. Samantha followed it with her eyes until it stopped level with her left thigh.

      She felt the heat on her thigh increasing. Then, as Gotha pressed the iron into her immobile flesh, a searing pain erupted in her thigh. The stench of her burning flesh filled her nostrils as she threw back her head and screamed and screamed to the sky above.

      Gotha held the iron against her for at least half a minute, pressing it deep into her flesh. Unable to move to avoid the pain, Samantha continued to scream as her whole body became drenched in sweat. She prayed and cried out for unconsciousness to release her from the agony. After what seemed an eternity of unendurable pain the iron was removed and the stench under her nose became less intense. At last her mind could stand it no longer and she slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness.

      Slowly the darkness receded and she gradually became aware of her surroundings. She was strapped to a cot in one of the dungeon cells. Her thigh throbbed unbearably with the pain. Another vile smell mixed with the lingering smell of her burnt flesh. It seemed to come from some substance that had been put over the wound.

      She felt a damp cloth laid across her forehead. She turned her head and saw Su Lin at her side. Concern and pity showed in the girl's face as she refreshed the cold cloth.

      Realisation of what had been done to her quickly returned. She began to weep. She had been branded. No longer could she dream and plan of returning to her clan. No longer could she think of herself as a clan girl. The iron that had probed deep into her flesh had seen to that.

      "You poor stupid slave," Su Lin's voice broke into her thoughts. "Why did you do such a terrible thing? Did you not realise that you had no chance of escaping? Now look what has been done to you."

      "I had to try," was all Samantha could think of in response. The wound in her thigh burned and itched terribly and she tried to move her hand to scratch it but her wrists were bound to the cot.

      "You must stay like this until the brand heals," Su Lin said, seeing what Samantha was attempting. "You must not touch it in case you spoil the clear outline."

      "How long will that take?" Samantha asked.

      "I am not sure," Su Lin replied. "I have not seen a girl branded before. I expect five or six days. You will be allowed to get up tomorrow but your hands will be tied behind your back."

      "Am I to be kept here all that time?" Samantha asked, looking round the cell.

      "Yes. Once the brand has healed you are to be taken for the rest of your punishment."

      In her distress and the pain in her thigh, Samantha had forgotten. Now she remembered. A hundred strokes of the cane and twenty lashes of the whip awaited her. How could she face such an ordeal now that she could no longer fortify herself with the thought that she was a clan girl?

      Samantha spent six days locked in the cell. On the second she was released from the cot but, as Su Lin had said, her wrists were locked behind her back, between her shoulder blades. The dressing on her thigh was renewed twice daily.

      On the fifth day no covering or ointment was placed on the wound and Samantha was able to see this for the first time. The wound had healed completely apart from a slight redness around the edges. She saw a perfect 'S' clearly and deeply imprinted on her white thigh. She wondered if this was merely to show she was a slave or was it the name of her Master. Both words began with the same letter.

      With the healing of the wound, Samantha realised the time for the rest of her punishment was drawing nearer. What would be first, she wondered, the cane or the whip?

      Her question was answered all too soon. On the morning of the sixth day in the cell, One of Mehmet's minions came for her. She was taken and bathed, made up and ordered to dress in one of her dancing costumes.

      Mehmet arrived and inspected her. Apart from the fear that shone in her eyes, the reflection that looked back at her in the mirror was that of a beautiful slave. Samantha felt a tive of all her Master's slaves, she was sure.

      The moment quickly passed when Mehmet, satisfied with her preparations, ordered two of his men to escort her to the courtyard.

A shiver of horror passed through Samantha as, entering the courtyard, she saw the crossed beams to which she had yard except herself Mehmet and his two minions and her Master. She fell to her knees before him.

      "This morning," Sulieman's voice broke the silence. "You are to be punished for the bother you caused by your attempt to escape. You will have the first session of fifty strokes of the cane. Stand and strip."

      Thankful that it was not to be a public flogging, Samantha rose to her feet and, as seductively as she could removed her filmy garments. Even at the last moment, she hoped her Master would show some mercy and spare her buttocks if she appeared to be submissive. She stood before him, shoulders back thrusting her firm breasts at him, and with a soft smile on her lips, looked him in the eye.

      She thought her ruse had worked when his eyes, softening visibly, played up and down her body finally coming to rest on the brand on her thigh.

      "You did well with the iron," he said turning to Gotha who had entered the courtyard and stood at his side.

      "Thank you, my Lord," the huge black man replied a smile of satisfaction on his lips.

      "Now teach the bitch a lesson in gratitude for the honour of being my slave."

      Samantha felt hands grip her arms. She was turned facing away from the monster who had not fallen for her trick. Rebellion welled up inside her. She hated all men, especially Sulieman who had ordered the thrashing she was about to endure and the one who would inflict it. To struggle was useless, and would only give them more satisfaction. She would show them they could not break her with force.

      She was marched towards two parallel beams in front of the wooden cross where she had been tied for the branding. She was halted a yard or so away from the nearest one which was slightly wider than her hips. The hands released her arms.

      She turned and faced her Master, gave him a cold stare, then turned back to face the beam. She took two firm steps forward until the edge touched the base of her stomach. She bent forward.

      The two minions spread her legs and tied her ankles to rings set in the ground. A hot flush spread across her face. In this position she realised the cleft in her cheeks was opened displaying her dark brown bud. Her sex was also well on view. A sense of degradation nearly overcame her strong determination to defy their attempt to make her submit.

      As she bent over, her shoulders rested on the farther beam. This was much wider than the first and she stretched her arms along its length and gripped it with her small hands. Her wrists and upper arms were strapped tightly to it.

      She began to tremble slightly as she saw the giant Gotha approach cane in hand. The very long thin cane! He checked her bonds and took up his position to her left. She clenched her teeth and gripped the beam tighter with her small hands.

      The cane whistled through the air and landed with a sharp report across her taut bottom. The slave shut her eyes tight to stop the tears that the terrible stroke brought to them. She heard Mehmet's voice as he counted the stroke out loud.

Five more times the cane rose and fell, each stroke leaving behind a long white line that quickly turned red. True to her resolve, Samantha had stayed silent apart from a quick intake of breath as each line of pain added to the previous ones.

      Although she cried out and yelled on each of the next ten strokes, she heard the count as Mehmet's voice tolled out her punishment.

      The sixteenth stroke seemed a long time in coming. Samantha felt hands on her bottom.

      The hands cupped her cheeks lifting them up and outwards. The pain increased with the pressure so much that she hardly noticed something touch her sex  opening. She let out a shrill scream of pain and disbelief as the thing forced its way deep inside her.

      Two hands grasped her pendant breasts gripping them tight as the thing thrust back and forth inside her. Fingers tweaked her nipples which had suddenly become hard and erect.

      "No. Oh no!" She screamed as it dawned on her that, part way through her flogging, her Master was raping his slave. Her protests served no purpose other than to make him chuckle and increase his momentum.

      Disgust and humiliation swept over Samantha, not only at the way her body was being used but at the response the usage was creating inside her. She began to moan and whimper as her body, totally against her wishes, became aroused. She was given no opportunity to savour the feeling. She felt her Master eject his satisfaction into the depths of her and withdraw.

      She just had time to feel his secretion, and hers she realised with horror, seep down her thighs before the cane resumed its onslaught on her buttocks.

      She writhed and screamed as Mehmet counted out another fifteen strokes. The perspiration poured from the slave's pores until the whole of her body was soaking wet. Droplets coursed down her breasts, over her nipples, and joined her tears on the floor below.

      Through the mist of pain she heard the count of 'thirty' again there was a pause as the next stroke failed to arrive. Samantha, anticipating what was to come, let out a long moan of distress. The caning she could just about withstand but if she was to be taken and used during her beating she knew her body's desires would conquer any attempt at resistance, no matter how hard she might try.

      Her eyes shot wide open in disbelief. She felt the hot crown of his manhood touch her anus.

      "No! No!" She screamed, humiliation sweeping over her as she realised his intention. "No! Not there!" She pleaded.

      Her Master again took his pleasure of her. This time more slowly and thoroughly. His entry sent sharp pangs of agony through her as her body was stretched until she was sure her flesh would tear. To her horror her body responded sending fresh shivers of humiliation over her.

      Delicious waves of delight flooded through her as her Master took his pleasure. Each time he thrust against her, the impact sent fresh surges of pain from the weals left by the cane. The slave had already given up all hope of resisting the feelings that his usage aroused in her. As his body thumped against hers, sending waves of pain surging in the cane weals, she suddenly realised that the spasms of pain were accelerating the rapid rise of the orgasm that was building up in her.

      "You are forbidden to come."

      Her Master's order made her cringe with shame. He knew that he could, in his using of her, subdue the rebellion in his slave's attitude. She prayed that he would never discover that the pain his taking was fuelling in her buttocks was also arousing her.

      This was not new to her! She had suspected for some time, since she had been beaten by Kalim, that the pain and domination of a beating could have this effect. But had he also realised this? She hoped not!

      Her Master continued to use her. She felt her body responding, gripping his manhood as tight as she could, trying to hold him inside her and prolong the erotic and delicious sensations that coursed through her. Sensations which mingled so strangely with the raging pain in her devastated backside and wide stretched anus, and which would not be denied even though her most private entrance was being publicly violated.

      Just as she thought her control would snap, he ejected his seed into her. As she felt him begin to withdraw, she gripped him even tighter trying to capture him inside for ever. To let him escape, she knew, would herald a fresh onslaught of the cane as her punishment was resumed.

      Still twenty more of those terrible strokes to come, she thought with dread as his manhood slipped from her. Her sweating body was still fighting back the orgasm his taking had made soar inside her, when the rattan lashed across her blazing cheeks.

      Samantha screamed as Gotha lashed the cane across her bottom nine times, screamed with pain and the arousal that the strokes fuelled. Her breasts ached and her nipples were so hard and erect that she thought they would burst under the pressure. Her sex was dripping with her juices and those of her Master that had already seeped down her thighs.

      Only ten strokes now left to endure! Samantha prayed that the black would lay them on quickly before her arousal broke through her control.

      Had she miscounted? Had she misheard Mehmet's count? The thrashing had stopped, had the full sentence been carried out?

A cry of dismay and disbelief was wrung from her as, again, she felt her Master's rigid penis brush against her dripping sex.

      This was not fair, her mind screamed inside her head. She was only a weak female. If he was to use her yet again how could she keep control of her body and not disobey him?

      But he did use her again! Slowly and throughly! The slave bucked and writhed as his possession sent her orgasm soaring.

      Somehow, to her amazement, Samantha managed to keep the orgasm as bay as her Master used her body. The last ten strokes had added their agony to her bottom and her Master's body thudded into these making her buttocks blaze with fire. At last, to her relief and disappointment, he came deep inside her with a sudden violence and, just as suddenly, withdrew.

      Samantha allowed her body to relax over the beam. She had survived the beating and had restrained the orgasm. She had not disobeyed him.

      Her body suddenly went rigid with shock, her head jerked back and she screamed. She had miscounted! The cane lashed her bottom again! So she still had more strokes to come! How many?

      Such was the pain that raged, not only in her bottom but the whole of her young body, and the stimulation of her Master's usage of her that the slave no longer was aware of her surroundings. She was being caned and used, over and over again.

      Even after Gotha had lashed her buttocks with another nine searing strokes of the rattan, she was unaware that her beating had ended.

      A bucket of cold water, thrown over her head, quickly brought the slave back to reality. Her buttocks felt on fire from the attentions of the cane, her breasts ached with her desire and the fierce handling from her Master as he had used her. Her love tunnel and anus were sore and throbbed from the savage taking during the beating.

      She felt the bonds on her wrists released and her hands flew backwards to rub her blazing cheeks. As she rubbed her behind, her ankles were released.

      Her arms were grasped and the slave was pulled upright. She was marched to the wooden cross posts. Her arms and legs were pulled wide apart and secured spread-eagling her body. She felt the place where the posts crossed rub against her sex. What was going on? Was she to be exhibited as a warning to the others?

      Her Master stood in front of her and pulled her hair forward over her upthrust breasts.

      "Oh no! Please not straight away." She looked into her Master's dark eyes. Surely he didn't mean to have her whipped before she had time to recover from the caning!

      The impassiveness of his face and the stern look in his eyes answered her question. He did!

      Samantha cast a fleeting glance over her shoulder, just in time to see Gotha take up his position. She cringed as she saw him shake loose the long plaited lash.

      "Twenty lashes. Proceed."

      Her Master's voice heralded the start of the second stage of her punishment. The whipping!

      Samantha shut her eyes tight and clenched her small hands into fists.

      Five times Gotha lashed her stretched back with the whip. Five screams of agony echoed round the yard. The bound girl writhed as the leather burned paths of fire across her flesh. Pain, and the sheer dominance of her Master, the helpless subservience of her own situation fuelled the arousal that the cold water had partially quenched.

      Samantha felt her needs soaring through her body. She knew she must not orgasm under the whip but she had no strength left to fight with.

      Another five strokes added to her torment making her struggle helplessly against her bonds as her screams rebounded from wall to wall.

      Her young body, writhing under the lash, was drenched in sweat and tears flooded from her eyes completely obscuring her vision.

      She therefore did not see her Master move close to her. Suddenly he held her head still in a vice-like grip as his mouth descended on her own. One hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her face hard against his.

      She felt his teeth forced apart by his tongue as, once again the leather was laid across her back. She screamed into her Master's mouth as the pain built up.

      Again she creamed into his mouth, but the lash had not fallen. Her Master's free hand had gripped her mons, one finger pressing her throbbing lips then slowly inserting its way inside her. Delicious and erotic feelings surged through her. She was helpless under her Master's fingers, and her Master's whip. Control began to slip away from her.

      The slave received the last nine lashes of her whipping as her Master continued with his savage kiss. His free hand moved over her body, stroking her breasts, tweaking her nipples and rubbing fingers inside her tunnel.

      Samantha, unable to avoid his attentions, felt her orgasm soar as she pushed her body forward. Not to avoid the lash but to press against the hand that was sending such exquisite delights flashing through her young body. She had never experienced anything like it before. The pain, and her vulnerability in the face of her Master's cool ability to inflict pain and pleasure whenever he liked were driving her into a frenzy of desire.

      Gotha had hardly applied the last stroke before her bonds were released. Instead of being allowed to collapse on the ground, the slave was turned around and again tied spread-eagled to the posts. For a moment she was able to blink her eyes clear of tears.

      She could hardly believe what she saw! Her Master, now naked, stood in front of her and, as she looked down, she saw his penis hard and erect.

      He raised his hands and stroked her aching breasts running a finger over the weals where the lash had curled round her side and flicked her tender flesh. She felt his body press against hers as his rampant organ slid deep inside her sex.

      Slowly at first, then rapidly gaining momentum, her Master took his pleasure of his slave.

      Samantha, her back and buttocks screaming with the pain that her savage punishment had inflicted there, felt her orgasm rekindled rapidly. No longer could her mind fight against the raging desires of her body and, as her Master spilled his pleasure deep inside her, she surrendered. Spasm after spasm of delicious pleasure took control until she descended into blissful darkness.

      Sulieman and his servants departed from the yard leaving the unconscious girl at the posts, suspended from her wrists.

      Gradually the oblivion, to which she had succumbed, faded. The fog slowly cleared from her mind and she became conscious of the strain her weight was placing on her arms. She realised she was still bound to the posts. Her mouth was dry. Her back and bottom throbbed terribly. Her body felt hot and sticky where the sweat had dried on her.

      The slave began to remember where she was and what had been done to her. She had taken the whipping and caning like a true warrior should, bravely and without surrendering. The man who insisted on being her Master had failed, once again, to break her by the application of pain.

      The joy of self congratulation suddenly faded as the slave remembered how he had used her body during the punishment. How he had nearly driven her out of her mind, not with pain but with the desire that his attentions had aroused. A shudder of fear passed over her as she remembered that she had lost control and allowed herself to orgasm, thus disobeying his order.

      She remembered the brand that he had had burned into her thigh, the brand that would excommunicate her from a clan, not only her own but any other. Furthermore, she still had another fifty strokes of the cane to come. If he again used her during this beating, she knew she would not last out. Her complete submission to him would be inevitable.

      A deep sadness descended on her. She was lost! She could no longer be a clan member and escape now would be pointless. She had nowhere to go. Her head lowered in defeat and tears of misery flowed from her eyes.

      Time passed slowly for the suspended slave as she hung by her wrists from the posts. The depression into which she had sunk clouded her mind so much that she was hardly aware when her bonds were released and she fell in a heap to the ground.

      She felt a cold cloth rubbed gently over her face. She opened her eyes to find Su Lin at her side and two of the guards standing looking down at her.

      Under Su Lin's careful supervision, the guards lifted the slave to her feet and walked her slowly back to the harem where she was laid, face down, on a divan.

Once the guards had left, Su Lin and several of the other slave girls set about bathing Samantha and tending to the frightful network of crises-crossing weals on her body.

      When they had made her as comfortable as possible, Su Lin insisted that Samantha drank a goblet of sweet lemonade. Su Lin had pleaded with Sulieman and persuaded him to allow her to lace the drink with a potion.

      Almost before she had drained the last drop, Samantha slipped into a merciful sleep.

      When she eventually awoke, she found Su Lin at her side. The girl gave her a cool drink and some food, then led her to where a refreshing bath awaited. Samantha sank into this gratefully and let its soothing effect ease the stiffness in her body, particularly her back and buttocks.

      As the last vestiges of sleep were washed away, she remembered that she was still to receive the remaining strokes of her caning.

      "Am I to be taken for the rest of my punishment?" She asked.

      "No." Su Lin replied. "That had been postponed until you are fully recovered."

      Samantha shivered at this news. She would have preferred to have got it over with straight away. Waiting for it to happen was worse than the beating itself. It dawned on her that her Master was using every means to break her.

      Suddenly it was all too much for Samantha. She burst into tears and, as Su Lin tried to comfort her, told her friend all that had happened in the courtyard.

      Su Lin heard her out in a stunned silence. She had never heard of a slave being treated in that way, not even by Sulieman. She felt disgusted as Samantha told her how the Master had used her during her caning.

      "I do not understand," Su Lin said when Samantha had finished. "I have never known a slave treated in this way before. Perhaps, knowing that a clan girl would suffer the most terrible tortures rather than a betray her clan, he is hoping to break you this way rather than rely on pain alone."

      "Perhaps he is right." Samantha whispered, shaken by her friend's perceptiveness. "I would never give in to beatings but I do not think I can withstand many sessions like that. He makes my body go completely out of control."

      "Then why fight it?" Su Lin whispered back. "He has prevented you returning to the clans by branding you. Why not let your body take control? Surrender to the pleasures that you could enjoy. That way you would serve the Master better and not get so many terrible thrashings."

      "That is easier said than done," Samantha replied wistfully. "I was brought up in the clans since I was a baby. We are taught to hate all men and never to surrender to them."

      "But you are not a clan girl any more. You are only a slave the same as the rest of us. Try and forget your teachings."

      "I will have to think about it," Samantha answered.

      Further discussion was stopped as one of the slave girls came to them and said that Mehmet was in the harem and asking for them.

      Samantha and Su Lin hurried to the main room and fell to their knees before the chief eunuch.

      "You will both come with me," he ordered.

      The two slaves rose and followed him from the harem.

      They were led before their Master in his library and sank gracefully to their knees before him.

      "I have received a request from Lord Sayed. It appears that his guest before whom you danced desires a night with the slave Samantha."

      "NO! I refuse. NO!" Samantha shouted.

      "You refuse your Master's order?" Mehmet exploded in anger. He had never heard the like of it! A slave girl openly refusing to obey! "You have gone too far this time!"

      "Please Master," Su Lin risked speaking without first asking permission. "The slave did not mean what she said. She is still suffering from her punishment and not thinking properly. Please do not punish her."

      "I was thinking clearly," Samantha shouted. "I would rather die than give myself to that man. He was fat and ugly and he smelt horrible."

      Sulieman had sat silent, listening with mounting amusement at the interchange. Both slaves had spoken without permission. No doubt Mehmet would deal with that offence. But the slave, Samantha, had openly refused to obey an order.

      To his amazement, she had spoken most rudely, if correctly, about the merchant, and said she preferred to die rather than to serve him. This girl completely baffled him. What did he have to do to break her?

      He had loaned the girl to Sayed on condition she was not used. Why? He had never cared if men used his slaves before! Why not her also?

      "I only said he desires a night with you. I did not say that I would grant his wish, and I do not intend to, at least not yet."

      "I would rather die than be given to that ogre." Samantha continued to shout her disgust at the thought.

      "If I so ordered, you would obey," Sulieman began to get angry at the slave's insolence. It was no longer amusing!

      "I would not!" Samantha responded, still unheeding the consequences of her outburst.

      "Remove them, Mehmet." Sulieman commanded his eunuch. "Both slaves have spoken without permission, see to them."

      He looked down on the kneeling slaves. He saw a shudder pass over their bodies as they anticipated his next words. He beckoned to Mehmet and whispered in his ear.

      "Follow me," Mehmet ordered.

      The two slaves rose and followed the eunuch from the room. Instead of taking them to Gotha, he led them back into the harem.

      "Strip," he commanded. "Lie down."

      The two slaves quickly obeyed.

      Mehmet called two of his minions and whispered orders to them. They hurried from the harem and returned some minutes later with two lengths of rope. The slave's wrists were bound and the ends of the ropes thrown over a beam in the ceiling. The ropes were pulled tight until the slaves stood. Mehmet tied a gag on each.

      Then the ropes were again pulled until the slaves were suspended several feet from the floor and secured.

      "You will stay there until you learn not to speak without permission."

      Leaving one junior eunuch in charge, Mehmet strode from the room. He was not well pleased. The slaves would suffer from a long period suspended, but he would much rather have taken them to Gotha. Their offence certainly deserved a sound thrashing. Was the Master getting soft? It was most unlike him not to have a girl flogged for the smallest offence!

      Su Lin and Samantha were left hanging for several hours. The strain on their arms sent spasms of cramp and pain through their shoulders. The gags made it difficult to breathe and their mouths became dry. None of the other dared go near the two to aid them Mehmet's minion on guard saw to that!

      At long last Mehmet returned. The suspended slaves watched in dread as they saw a heavy leather strap in his hand and he looked hard at them.

      "I trust you have learnt your lesson," he said. "You will now be released but first you, Su Lin, will get ten strokes of the strap, just to make sure you do not speak without permission again."

      He moved behind the slave and lashed the strap across her buttocks ten times. The force of the blows, and the girl's writhing to avoid them, sent sheets of agony through her arms and shoulder as the strain on them increased.

      The gag stifled her cries, but hot tears ran down her face at the pain.

      Samantha saw him stand in front of her.

      "You," he said looking up at her, "have greatly displeased the Master. Not only did you speak without permission but you dared to threaten to disobey an order."

      Samantha, believing that she was about to be beaten, began to struggle. The pain in her arms and shoulders made her scream into the gag.

      "The Master has not yet decided what to do with you. You will be released and wait his pleasure."

      Mehmet gave ordered to his juniors and strode out of the harem. The eunuchs untied the ropes and the two slaves fell to the ground.

      The other slaves gathered round them and helped them to their feet and on to couches. They proceeded to massage the girls'arms and shoulders and apply cooling cream to Su Lin's bottom.

      Samantha lay on the couch in a daze. What punishment was in store for her, she wondered? She already had a severe caning to come! What more could the Master order for her?

      She could no longer think of herself as a clan girl and must come to terms with the fact that she was, for ever destined to be a slave.

      Day after day she expected the dreaded summons. It did not come! The anticipation of whatever was to be done to her fuelled her imagination. The longer she was made to wait the greater was the dread that built up inside her.

      Her back and buttocks recovered and all signs of her ordeal disappeared. Still the dreaded summons did not come! Was this some terrible game the Master was playing with her?

      She went around in a daze for some time, her body shaking violently each time Mehmet came into harem.

      As time passed, she began to try and convince herself that the Master had forgotten her offence and that her young body had escaped further punishment.

      The more she tried to convince herself that this was so she found that her body was becoming restless. Why? She puzzled over this for hours, even standing naked in front of a mirror and asking herself the same question time and time again.

      The answer finally came to her as she stood, dressed in her dancing costume, looking at herself in the mirror.

      The reflection that looked back at her was that of a slave girl. As the realisation came to her she felt her nipples harden and a shiver of expectancy course through her sex.

      Had the clan girl in her head, at last, been erased to be replaced by a slave?

  Chapter 15

      Samantha saw nothing of her Master for three weeks. The thought of the remainder of her punishment, and the retribution for her insolence at the threat of having to serve that fat merchant, were never far from her mind. Also she had orgasmed during the punishment, thus adding disobedience to her crimes.

      Su Lin, and the other girls, did not fail to notice the change in her. One day, as Samantha lazed on a couch in the cool shade in the garden, the First Girl sat dawn at her side.

      "There is something different in you," Su Lin said quietly.

      "Is there?" Samantha replied.

      "Yes, the others have noticed it also. You move differently, more like a slave. You have lost that haughtiness that marked you as a clan girl. Also you are more submissive to the eunuchs."

      "Perhaps that is because I can no longer be a member of any clan. The brand on my thigh has seen to that."

      Samantha's fingers gently stroked the mark where the iron had burned her flesh. It was true. Since that time she had stood in front of the mirror and accepted that it was a slave looking back at her, a feeling of peace and serenity had descended on her. She had come to terms with her situation and, to her astonishment, found that she was happier than she had been for a long time.

      The only cloud on her horizon was the lack of attention from her Master. Her body craved to be used and, at night she had to fight hard to prevent herself screaming her frustration as her needs soared inside her.

      She even prayed for the long awaited punishment to be carried out so that, in watching it, her Master might be aroused by her body and take his pleasure of it.

      A month after her ordeal her prayers were answered. A summons from Mehmet early one evening saw her in the preparation room being groomed ready to dance for Sulieman.

      She was taken to him at the end of the evening meal and, for an hour or so, danced for his pleasure. Dance followed dance and all the time Samantha concentrated on seducing him with the eroticism of her movements.

      She finished her performance with the veil dance. As each veil was seductively discarded she watched her Master's face carefully, seeing the undisguised lust burning in his eyes. As the dance approached its end, she sent the last veil fluttering through the air to land on his lap.

      As the final chords echoed round the room, Samantha lay on the ground supported on her heels and shoulders thrusting her shaven sex mound towards him in the most suggestive way she could contrive.

      To her joy her ruse worked. No sooner had the last notes faded away than her Master ordered Mehmet to have her prepared and taken to his bed.

      Mehmet's impatience as she bathed and prepared herself was second only to her own. Soon she was ready and the eunuch led her to her Master's sleeping quarters.

      As she walked naked behind the huge black, she knew that her Master desired her. It was true. Her young soft body, a body accustomed to pain and servitude, was a weapon she could use to captivate him. To turn the tables and make him her slave.

Her certainty was increased as, tied spread-eagled on a divan, she watched Sulieman approach her. He cast aside the robe he was wearing and Samantha smiled inwardly as she saw his manhood already erect in anticipation of the pleasure her body offered.

      His first taking of her was fierce and quick. So quick, in fact, that her own body had hardly time to become aroused before he spilled his seed deep inside her.

      After that first taking, her bonds were released and she set about pleasing him using all the tricks and wiles she could remember.

      Her efforts were rewarded as, after the fourth taking, she lay in her Master's arms as he gently stroked her sweet body. His fingers sent delicious sensations coursing through her, reawakening her needs.

      Satisfying thoughts of her conquest of her Master fluttered in her mind, making her throw caution to the wind. She slid her hand lightly, over his firm stomach, and down to his flaccid penis. Softly, she stroked him letting her fingers stray under his heavy sac, tickling and stroking gently, listening to his breathing become quicker.

      His manhood grew until it was rampant. Suddenly he turned her on her back and entered her.

      Sulieman had had many girls but never one that excited him like this one. Her soft yielding body beneath him strained to give him pleasure, sucking him into a mist of exquisite pleasure that he didn't want to end.

      Samantha looked up into his face. A face usually so hard and stern that one look could send shivers of dread through even the toughest adversary but now relaxed with a smile of utter contentment on his lips.

      Looking up into her Master's face, Samantha thought that her scheme had succeeded. She had made him want her more than any other girl in his harem. Now she could begin to take her revenge on him.

      She held her own orgasms under tight control as his body arched above her, driving his manhood deep into her and, again, shedding his satisfaction with a cry of joy.

      He had collapsed at her side but she was not finished with him yet. As he began to stir, she slid down and began to lick his flaccid penis and the heavy sac. A deep groan escaped his throat as he felt his desire rekindled.

      Samantha turned and straddled his chest, giving him a close up view of her luscious back and buttocks. Slowly she bent forward, knowing that he would be able to see her engorged and opened sex lips, and the brown bud of her anus. He would be able to see the traces of his spend where it had flooded out from her and clung to the insides of her thighs. She recommenced her attentions with her mouth on his organ. Her small fingers stroked his thighs and sac gently until she felt his manhood respond.

      Pressing hard down on his chest, letting her breasts sway and brush his body gently the slave used all her training and wiles. Time and again she brought him to the edge of a climax, only to ease off at the last minute. She smiled secretly to herself as she heard his groans of frustration and felt him try to rise up under her.

      She was deliberately trying to drive him to distraction with his needs for satisfaction. She had vowed to use her body and skills to turn the tables on him and make him her slave, if only in the confines of this room. This was the perfect opportunity and she intended to make the best of it.

      "Does my Master wish to come?" She asked softly as he bucked beneath her.

      "Yes, now." He commanded, his voice hoarse with desire.

      "Does my Master beg his slave to satisfy him?"

      "Do it, slave," his voice thundered in the room.

      Samantha, glowing in the satisfaction of her conquest of the man under her, decided not to press her luck, She took his manhood into her mouth, feeling the throbbing tip at the back of her throat, and worked on him until she felt his ejaculation shoot into her mouth. Time and again she swallowed eagerly, feeling the hot spurts against the back of her throat.

As she lay at his side, looking at the serene expression on his relaxed face, Samantha tasted the triumph of victory. She was sure that this night's work had bound him to her tighter than any chains. He was hers! Her victory was complete!

      As she noticed the first stirrings as he ascended from the oblivion into which she had driven him, she put her mouth close to his ear.

      "Does my Master love his slave? Did she please him well?" She whispered in his ear.

      The only response was a deep satisfied sigh as he sank again into the arms of a contented sleep.

      As dawn sent the first rays of light into the room, Samantha awoke. Her Master was coming awake. She slid from the bed and knelt, knees spread wide.

      Sulieman stirred, a smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked at the kneeling slave.

      "Is my Master pleased with his slave?" She asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

      Slowly, as memory of the night returned, the smile disappeared to be replaced by a stern, angry expression as his eyes hardened. He realised he was becoming fond of this slave and that would never do!

"Your performance was acceptable," he said slowly, "but if you thought to escape the punishment owing to you, you are gravely mistaken. You have a caning to come and there is the threatened disobedience to my wishes to account for. Also you disobeyed me and came during the beating."

      Samantha looked up at him, her eyebrows raised questioningly.

      "I seems you have forgotten?"

      "No Master, I know I still have the rest of my punishment to come."

      "It seems you have forgotten," Sulieman's tone hardened. "You said you would refuse to please Lord Sayed's merchant friend, if I so ordered."

      The kneeling slave's face blanched with fear as she recalled the outburst to which he referred. She had forgotten but it seemed he had not.

      "I remember, Master," Samantha replied in a whisper.

      "Good! It is time you paid for your rebellious outburst. You will be sent for. Now return to the harem."

      Samantha rose and, casting a fleeting glance over her shoulder, left the room. On the way back to the harem she cursed herself for a fool. She had exerted all her wiles in an attempt to make him a slave to her body. She had failed!

      As she made her way back to the other girls, terrible pictures of the ordeal she must suffer flashed through her mind.

      Sulieman had not waited to summon Mehmet as escort. She was alone! A terrible ordeal, she was sure, awaited her. She looked around, seeking a way of escape.

      Then she remembered the brand burned deep into her thigh and the way Sulieman's dwelling was guarded. Too well guarded to permit any chance of escape and, if she could get outside the walls, where would she go. There was nowhere!

      Resigning herself to her fate, Samantha entered the harem and awaited the dreaded summons. Su Lin, noticing that the girl was not her usual cheerful self, asked what was amiss. On hearing Samantha's reply, Su Lin tried her best to comfort her friend.

      Samantha was inconsolable. She had failed in her attempt of seduce her Master into submitting to her charms. He had guessed her intent and, to put her in her place had reminded her of both the caning due and also the other serious offences she had committed. The caning would be bad enough, but what other torture would she be made to suffer.

      She prayed that, whatever was in store for her, her Master would not take her during the punishment, as he had before. Another session like that would break her for good, she was sure.

      Shaking these thoughts from her mind, Samantha joined in the daily routine of the harem and awaited the summons to meet her fate.

  Chapter 16

      To her consternation, the summons did not come. Not that day nor the next. The waiting played on her mind until she was ready to fall on her knees and beg Mehmet to ask the Master to have her punishment carried out.

      Much as she tried to put it out of her mind, she couldn't. What if he did use her again during the beating? Would she be able to control her body and defy him? Deny him the satisfaction of conquering her?

      The answers to her questions were easy to find. The very thought of heaving to submit to the beating made her nipples harden and sweet stirrings to tingle in her vagina. She knew in her heart she was now nothing but a slave who craved her Master's attentions. Whether this be with the whip or his commanding manhood was debatable.

      As she sat quietly in the garden, she had to admit finally to the truth. She could no longer evade what her body was telling her. Much as she dreaded the pain, she revelled in the ecstasy of the domination under which she was forced to submit. It was like a drug! The more she suffered the more she craved.

      Sulieman made her wait for three days for the summons. When it finally came, mid morning on the third day, Samantha almost cried with relief. Now she would, she thought, know herself truly for what she was.

      Conscious of the veiled glances of pity from her sister slaves, Samantha walked behind the eunuch as he led her from the harem.

      Two older women depilated her then supervised her as she bathed. They brushed her hair and applied cosmetics to her face and body then helped her to dress in her dancing costume.

      Mehmet returned and, having inspected the slave, made her stand facing a mirror as he buckled leather bands to her wrists and ankles. Looking at herself as she was prepared for her ordeal, the slave felt the first signs of arousal begin to course through her body. These grew stronger as the eunuch whispered in her ear instructing her carefully on the way she must conduct herself.

      Waves of dread and delicious anticipation flowed over her as she halted at the door which led into the courtyard where her last flogging had taken place. The door opened to Mehmet's knock.

      Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Samantha walked slowly through the door, into the courtyard. She saw her Master seated on a throne, on a raised dais at the far end.

      Keeping her eyes demurely lowered, she slowly approached her Master and fell to her knees before him.

      "Your slave begs permission to speak, Master."

      Sulieman, keeping the stern expression firmly fixed on his face, looked down on the luscious body of his slave. He smiled inwardly as he recognised the pure submissiveness that showed in the softly spoken question. Now he knew she was truly his!

      "Permission granted."

      "Master. Your slave humbly begs to be punished for the displeasure she has caused. Punished severely, if it pleases her Master so to do."

      "You have fifty strokes of the cane to come from your previous beating. There are also three other offences to be considered. First, your disobedience in coming during the beating. Second, you dared to threaten rebellion if I ordered you to serve Lord Sayed's merchant friend."

      Sulieman paused, looking down on the girl, and a smile of satisfaction tinged his lips as he saw her body shudder. But he hadn't finished yet!

      "The third offence is the most serious. You attempted to use the delights of your body to gain supremacy over your Master."

      Samantha nearly fainted with shock. Not only had her scheme failed, it had also not gone unnoticed. For the first time since she could remember, she felt her face redden with embarrassment.

      "This morning you will be given the second fifty strokes of the cane. Then twenty lashes with the whip for the first offence and twenty five strokes of the switch for the third offence."

      The sentence, which had been spoken in the sternest voice, was followed by an ominous silence as the severity of the ordeal ahead made Samantha tremble visibly

      "When you have recovered from this morning's thrashing," Sulieman continued, "you will atone for the second offence. You will be sent to Lord Sayed's merchant friend and will serve him for one night. If you fail to please him completely, you will be whipped with a cat-o-nine tails until your back is raw then sold to a brothel in a distant port."

      Samantha began to shake violently. She just managed to refrain from screaming her disgust out loud. The very thought of being sent to the merchant made her fell sick inside, but she realised she had no choice. She was a slave and must obey!

      "Have you anything to say now, slave?" Sulieman taunted her, remembering her outburst.

      "No, Master. I will obey and do my best to please the merchant." She realised that, as she uttered these words, she had surrendered herself, once and for all, to her slavery.

      "Proceed, Mehmet."

      Obeying Mehmet's order, Samantha rose and removed the items of her costume. She stood naked before her Master.

      Another order from the eunuch and she turned to face the centre of the courtyard where the two parallel beams and the whipping post awaited her. Gotha stood between them, his long cane, the thin flexible switch and the whip lying on a table to one side of him.

      Taking a deep breath, Samantha walked slowly towards the beams. She halted as the nearer touched her mound and bent over, laying her shoulders on the farther and stretching her arms along its length. Mehmet quickly tied her ankles, wrists and upper arms.

      Silently praying that her Master would not use her this time during the punishment, Samantha shut her eyes, gripped the beam, and waited for the thrashing to start.

      Sulieman rose from his chair and moved a few paces behind his bent slave. Her pale bottom, thrust out awaiting the cane, seemed to be tempting him. He fully intended that this morning's beating would finally reduce this girl to a perfect slave. He had no reservations about sentencing her to the severest flogging he had ever ordered for a girl.

      "Proceed." Sulieman gave the order for the slave's punishment to begin.

      He watched carefully as the cane lashed across her buttocks raising a white line, which quickly turned red, the full width of both cheeks. He heard her sharp intake of breath as she steeled herself against the pain.

      As the fifth stroke left its imprint, he heard a deep groan escape the slave's clenched teeth. The sixth wrung a shrill cry and the eighth a loud yell. The sight of Samantha's body writhing and squirming against the beam was most satisfying and erotic. The tram lines on her buttocks and the sheen of sweat that covered her body sent waves of desire through his loins.

      As the twentieth stroke blazed a trail across her heaving buttocks, Sulieman signalled Gotha to stop. He had resolved not to use the girl during this flogging but the scene before him had raised his desire to a height that would not be denied.

      The slave under punishment sensed the hiatus in the proceedings. She had prayed that being used would not be part of her ordeal this time. Now, as she felt her Master's hands on her bottom and the heat of his manhood stroke her opened sex lips, she knew her prayer had gone unanswered.

      "Please Master," she began to plead, unheeding the offence she was committing by speaking without permission. "Please Master do not rape your slave."

      Her plea also went unanswered as her Master fiercely took his pleasure of her body injecting his satisfaction deep into her.

      Sulieman stepped back from the slave and called Gotha to him and whispered in the executioner's ear.

      Samantha, struggling to contain the arousal that the beating and her Master's usage was fuelling tensed herself to receive the renewed onslaught of the cane.

      Gotha, in accordance with the Master's instructions put his full weight behind the stroke, making the sharp report echo round the courtyard followed immediately by a terrible scream from the girl. He left a long pause between each of the next nine strokes letting the girl absorb the full pain of each before administering the next.

      As was usual during a beating, Samantha's brain had managed to count the strokes. In the pause after the thirtieth, she felt her buttocks cheeks pulled apart. He was going to use her again!

      Her cry of distress echoed round the courtyard as she realised it was her anus, not her sex, that was to receive his weapon. She tried to relax her muscles as she was penetrated.

      Sulieman again took his pleasure. Then again after another ten strokes had been applied to the slave's writhing bottom.

      The pain of the beating and her Master's usage sent Samantha's arousal soaring. He took her again after the fiftieth stroke, his hands sliding over her sweat drenched breasts as he released his seed deep inside her love tunnel.

      Samantha's world had shrunk around her. She was conscious only of the furnace that raged in her bottom and the repeated entry of her Master's manhood into her anus and sex. She prayed that consciousness would desert her, would save her from the terrible pain and the arousal that tortured her body. She knew no relief would come! The potion she had been made to drink during her preparation would see to that!

      A bucket of cold water, thrown over her head, brought her back to reality. She guessed she had now taken the caning and expected to be moved to stand at the whipping post but, to her surprise, her bonds were not released. She shook the tears from her eyes and glanced back over her shoulder.

      Through the mist of tears, she saw her Master hand the vicious switch to Gotha. Disbelief flooded through her mind. Surely she was not to be lashed with the switch straight away! Her poor bottom needed some respite if she was to survive!

      After three strokes of the switch, Samantha collapsed on the beam, no longer able to squirm and writhe. She needed all her strength to control the orgasm that raged within her. Control it she must, or suffer yet further punishment for disobedience.

      To her relief, her Master refrained from using her during the switching. Slowly but surely, Gotha applied the twenty-five strokes to the now immobile buttocks. Samantha had ceased to scream and only a deep mewing, and the flinching in her bottom each time the switch struck, betrayed the fact that the slave was conscious of the intense agony that was being inflicted on her soft young body.

      Another bucket of cold water, thrown over her head, dispelled the mist and informed her that, again, she had survived yet another part of her punishment.

      The bonds on her wrists, arms and ankles were removed. She tried to stand upright but her strength seemed to have deserted her. She felt her arms grasped as two eunuchs eased her up and turned her to face her Master.

      Samantha blinked the tears from her eyes and looked at her Master. Despite the excruciating agony that seemed to rage through the whole of her body, she suddenly realised that the hatred she had felt for him until now had totally disappeared. He had, by the mixture of pain and his usage of her, completed his conquest.

      There could be no denial now. She was truly his slave!

      "Master." Samantha looked directly into the deep dark pools of Sulieman's eyes. "I am your slave and I love you as a slave should love her Master."

      Sulieman inwardly smiles his triumph. He had broken her at last! But had he? Was this yet another ruse on her part to escape the whipping, or even being sent to the merchant?

      While he pondered these doubts in his mind, Samantha continued to look into his eyes.

      "Master," she said, sensing his doubts, "I submit myself as your slave and humbly beg that you will now have me severely whipped and complete my education."

      The sincerity in the tone of her words finally convinced Sulieman of his victory. He decided to celebrate this in a most appropriate manner. He signalled to the two eunuchs.

      To her astonishment, Samantha found herself led, not to the whipping post but made to stand between two upright posts set some ten feet apart.

      Her wrists were attached to two ropes running from the top of the posts. The ropes were pulled tight lifting her from her feet. Her ankles were tied to more ropes and tightened pulling her legs wide apart.

      Her Master gave further orders to Gotha then stood in front of the suspended slave. He reached behind her neck, parted her hair and drew it forward in front of her, tying it in a knot.

      Sulieman took his slave's head in his hands and crushed his mouth against hers. As their lips touched, Gotha laid the lash across Samantha's taut back three times. The slave screamed into her Master's mouth as he pressed his own hard against her inviting lips.

      Samantha could not believe what was happening. She felt her Master's hand on her breast, his fingers tweaking her swollen nipple. His other hand slid down over her rounded belly and sought her soaking wet sex.

      Another three lashes curled across her back.

      Then the slave's eyes, clearing for a moment of the tears that cascaded down her face, saw her Master discard the robe he was wearing. He was naked.

      His hands cupped her throbbing buttocks, drawing her towards him as Gotha laid another three lashes on her back. The hands slid onto her thighs as she felt his manhood enter her love tunnel.

      "I love you, Master." Samantha cried her submission aloud.

      The lash found the softness of her relaxed bottom. The force of the stroke made her thrust forward impaling herself hard onto her Master's lance driving it deep into her tunnel.

      Sulieman proceeded to use his slave, fiercely and thoroughly, as Gotha laid on the remaining strokes of her punishment, the lash seeking her back and buttocks indiscriminately.

      Despite the indescribable agony that blazed in her back and bottom, Samantha again revelled in the wonderful sensations of love and submission that the sheer helplessness of her situation generated in her. Giving herself up completely to the joys she had previously only glimpsed made her wish that the whipping and taking would go on for ever.

      As the lash seared her bottom with the last stroke, she felt her Master shed his juices into her. The cause of her pleasure was withdrawn and she let out a deep moan of contentment. She had, somehow, managed to hold back her own orgasm but, this time, she felt no resentment.

      Her Master's conquest of his slave had been finally and totally accomplished!

      Samantha felt her ankles released, then the ropes holding her arms were slowly lowered. She collapsed, a beaten and whipped slave, on the ground at her Master's feet. The ropes were untied from her wrists and she crawled forward on her stomach until her lips found her Master's feet. She smothered them with loving kisses.

      Sulieman looked down on his slave's body. The weals left by the flogging seemed to cover all of her back and bottom. There was scarcely any part where the paleness of her skin could be seen.

      As usual, the slave had taken the punishment well and controlled herself. He remembered the thrill of using her as the whip had lashed her body. The taking had been more satisfying than ever before.

      He watched her body shuddering from the furnace that blazed within her, as she kissed his feet.

      He had thoroughly enjoyed the experience. He had not used a girl while under punishment before. It came to him that, even then, her attempt to captivate him with the delights of her body was succeeding. He fought off these thoughts. No girl, slave or otherwise, would get the better of him. In that moment, he decided that he must rid himself of this 'witch' before he fell completely under her spell.

      Giving orders to the eunuchs, he replaced his robe and strode purposefully from the courtyard.

      The eunuchs grasped the flogged girl and returned her to the harem. Su Lin and several of the other girls carried Samantha to a couch and began attending to her back and buttocks.

      Once soothing lotion had been gently applied, Samantha slipped into an exhausted sleep.

      She awoke some hours later to find Su Lin kneeling at her side. Samantha, conscious of the pain that still raged through her, pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked at her friend.

      "Will I be marked for life?" She asked the question that evidenced her fear each time she was flogged.

      "No," Su Lin replied softly. "Your back and bottom have suffered badly again but the marks will disappear."

      "Thank heaven for that." Samantha heaved a sigh of relief.

      "You must try and please the Master," Su Lin said. "Your body may be able to take beatings like this but I fear what will happen to your mind."

      "Don't worry," was the reply from the girl on the couch. "I have at least learned to accept my slavery. I love my Master and will joyfully accept whatever he cares to do to me."

      "That I am pleased to hear," Su Lin answered, breathing a sigh of relief. "Now you will not displease him so badly or so often and will not be beaten so terribly."

      With Su Lin's help, Samantha rose from the couch and went to wash herself. Naked, displaying the marks of her beating, Samantha joined in the daily routine of the harem. She smiled inwardly each time one of the girls expressed sympathy. The clan girl had been exorcised from her body and mind. She was now, truly, nothing but a slave.

      A week passed during which Samantha was tended by Su Lin and the other girls in the harem. Slowly her weals healed, the bruises began to fade, but the memory of that morning in the punishment yard remained in her mind.

      She joined in the routine as before but now with a joyfulness that astounded the other slaves. Whilst her natural vivaciousness did not diminish, she was more subservient to the eunuchs and to Su Lin. She was after all First Girl.

      On the seventh morning after her ordeal in the punishment courtyard, Mehmet entered the harem and summoned Samantha to him. She fell to her knees, bowing her head to the floor.

      "Come slave."

      Wondering what was now to happen to her, the trembling girl followed the huge black. She did not have far to go. He stopped outside a door guarded by another black eunuch, holding a curved sword across his chest. Mehmet opened the door and ushered Samantha inside.

      Tentatively, she entered and found herself in a pleasant room, one side of which opened out onto a small garden.

      "You are to be confined here until you are ready to be sent to Lord Selim Shah," Mehmet informed her.

      "Permission to speak, Sir?"

      "Speak."

      "Who is Lord Selim Shah, Sir?"

      "He is the merchant friend of Lord Sayed who you are to serve."

      The reminder of the ordeal still to come made the girl shiver as if a cold wind had blown over her.

      Mehmet clapped his hands and two older women appeared from a side room.

      "These women," Mehmet said pointing at them, "are to attend to you. They will ensure your body is perfect to please Selim Shah. They are under orders not to speak to you except to give an order, which you will obey."

      Samantha looked the women over. They were a lot older than her and had serious expressions on their faces.

      "You will exercise and practise your dancing," Mehmet ordered.

      The eunuch was not pleased by the turn of events. This girl, who had caused so much trouble, was to be treated well. He would have much preferred to have her naked at the post being thoroughly whipped by Gotha. He had been ordered by the Master not to discipline the girl and he must obey.

      Unknown to both Mehmet and Samantha, Sulieman had, after that last session in the punishment courtyard, decided that this girl must go before he fell under the spell of her body. He feared that she would bewitch him and that must never be allowed to happen.

      For several days Samantha gave herself up to the ministrations of the two women. They bathed her frequently and massaged her body with fragrant oils. The weals on her back and buttocks were treated with special ointments until they disappeared, leaving her skin milky white and smooth.

      Under their supervision, she exercised and practised her dancing for hours each day. The women were most critical, forcing her to greater efforts to satisfy their requirements.

      At other times, Samantha was left on her own and the time crept by slowly. She missed the company of the other girls. At night, her body yearned for her Master's use and, until she was caught in the act one night by Mehmet, she tried to console herself by stroking her breasts and sex lips with her own fingers.

      She spent ten days confined thus before she received a summons to wait on her Master.

      Naked, she followed Mehmet into her Master's presence and fell to her knees, spreading them wide, before him.

      "Stand. Turn slowly," she heard Sulieman command.

      Sulieman surveyed the naked body displayed before him. He looked hard at her back and buttocks seeking the slightest sign of the flogging she had received. There was none! He felt desire surge through his loins as she stood facing him again. She was certainly the most luscious slave he had ever owned.

      Inwardly he heaved a sigh of regret at his decision to get rid of her, but get rid of her he must. She was too desirable. He had taken a rebellious clan girl and turned her into a submissive pliant slave and, in doing so, had nearly caused his own downfall. Yes, she must definitely go! There were many other luscious slaves in his harem that would satisfy his sexual appetite.

      "You are to be sent to Lord Selim Shah today. You will please him perfectly in all ways," Sulieman announced. "You will be his to do with as he wishes."

      "Yes, Master. I understand and will serve him well. I will bring back a very good report from him," Samantha replied softly. She had made up her mind to satisfy the merchant, not to please him but to earn the favour of her Master before whom she stood.

      She looked into her Master's eyes seeing her nakedness reflected there. Her body suddenly yearned for him to take her, to use her fiercely and thoroughly and satisfy the needs that had built up in her.

      "Mehmet. Collect what is necessary and see you deliver the slave safely to Lord Selim."

      "Your order will be obeyed," Mehmet replied. "Come slave."

      Unable to conceal the affection she felt for her Master from her eyes, Samantha fell to her knees, kissed his feet, and then rose and followed Mehmet from the room.

      The two old women had packed her dancing costumes and cosmetics into a box. One of the eunuchs picked this up and disappeared with it. Mehmet shackled Samantha's wrists behind her back and her ankles with a light chain. He placed a long black hooded clock over her nakedness and a collar and lead round her neck.

      This time there was no gauze panel to see through and Samantha and lifted her into a covered cart. Two eunuchs, heavily armed, climbed into the cart behind her. Four more, mounted on horses, formed an escort.

      Mehmet remembered the last time he had escorted this slave and was determined she would not have a chance to escape again.

      Much to his relief, the six hour journey passed without incident and the cart and escort halted before the gates which led into Lord Selim Shah's palatial residence. The gates opened and the cart and escort passed through, up a long drive, through yet another gate and came to a halt before a large building.

      The heavy door opened and Lord Selim and his major domo emerged. The merchant waddled down the steps and halted in front of Mehmet who bowed deeply to him.

      "You have brought the slave?" Lord Selim enquired.

      "She is in the cart, Sir."

      "Micha. Take the slave inside and hand her over to Achmed. He has his orders."

      Samantha felt herself lifted down from the cart and led inside the building.

      "You have the papers?" he asked.

      "Yes, Sir. You have the money?"

      Money and papers were exchanged and Mehmet remounted the cart and, with the escort, they disappeared through the gates, heading back in the direction they had come.

      Inside the building, Samantha felt the collar removed then the cloak. She blinked in the bright light until her eyes became accustomed and she looked around. She was in a large room with windows set high in the walls through which the sunlight streamed. A half naked muscular black man stood facing her. She instinctively fell to her knees.

      "Stand up, girl," the black ordered and, when Samantha obeyed, removed the shackles from her wrists and ankles. The box containing her costumes and cosmetics lay on the floor at her side.

      The black clapped his hands and a beautiful young girl ran into the room and fell to her knees before him, dropping her forehead to the floor.

      "This is the slave, Samantha, who is to dance for your Master this evening. You will assist her to prepare." The black's stern voice echoed round the room.

      "Yes Master," the newcomer replied demurely.

      Samantha watched Achmed leave the room, locking the door behind him. The girl rose to her feet and looked Samantha over critically.

      "My name is Suki." The girl's voice was soft and gentle. "Come, I will show you around."

      Samantha watched in astonishment as Suki walked across the room and pushed a panel in the wall. The panel swung open to reveal another room with a sunken bath in the center of the marble floor.

      She went to another panel in the adjoining wall and pushed it. Again it swung open this time to reveal a small but beautiful garden.

      "These are the quarters of the Master's favourite," Suki said. "She has been moved out to make room for you."

      "I'm sorry. I hope she does not mind. It is only for one night."

      "She does not mind. She had been demoted," Suki said as a tear slipped silently down her face.

      Samantha looked hard at the girl for the first time. She was very beautiful, her long wavy dark hair surrounding a sad but lovely face. Her superb figure showed clearly through the translucent robe that covered her from head to foot.

      "This is your room." The truth suddenly dawned on Samantha. "I'm sorry, I really am."

      "It was my room," Suki answered as she turned back into the main room. "I displeased the Master the other night and am no longer his favourite."

      Samantha's eyes followed the girl and it was then she saw, clearly through the robe, that the girl's back and buttocks had been soundly whipped.

      Any further discussion was cut short by the return of Achmed. Suki immediately fell to her knees at his entrance but Samantha remained standing, still thinking of the welts on Suki's body.

      "When I enter a room, you kneel!"

      Achmed's shout brought Samantha back to awareness. As she slipped to her knees beside Suki, she saw the black unclip the cane that hung from his waist. He held it before her downcast eyes.

"Next time you forget, your backside will get the taste of this."

      "Sorry Sir," Samantha stammered.

      "Master! You will call me Master!" Achmed yelled, his temper surging. This girl needed discipline, he thought, it was plain that Lord Sulieman's harem lacked a proper teacher. Still, she would soon learn. For the present, Lord Selim had forbidden any chastisement of the slave. For the present!

      ""Sorry Master. Please forgive me." Samantha hurriedly pressed her forehead to the floor at his feet.

      "Remember in future," Achmed said, his anger cooling. "This lack of respect will be remembered. You have earned five black marks."

      Samantha cringed at the ferocity in his voice, until she remembered that she would be returned to her Master on the morrow. Until then she would be more careful. She didn't want to take back a bad report!

      Achmed clapped his hands and two slave women entered carrying trays of food which they set down on low table to one side.

      "Eat now." Achmed ushered the women from the room. "Then the dancer must be prepared." So saying he left the room, locking the door behind him.

      The two slaves rose and sat at the table and began to eat the food. It was quite tasty and Samantha tucked in, she hadn't realised how hungry she had become.

      "What did Achmed mean by black marks?" Samantha enquired as she finally wiped the last crumbs from her lips.

      "Black marks are awarded for minor transgressions," Suki began to explain. "Every Friday, the slave girls are summoned to the punishment hall. The five girls with the highest marks are given ten strokes of the birch followed by one stroke for every mark. All the others, except any without marks against them, get one stroke of the cane for each mark."

      "That is terrible!" Samantha was aghast. "What if a girl has already been beaten?"

      "She still has to take the punishment. Achmed says that it keeps us on our toes if we are always competing against one another. If we are already sore, he says the lesson is more instructive. The rules are strictly enforced."

      "But that means that some girls could be beaten every week," Samantha exclaimed. "Thank goodness I will be sent back to my Master tomorrow. I don't think I would like to be a slave here."

      Any further discourse on the topic was prevented by Achmed's return, followed by two young slave girls.

      The time for Samantha's preparation had come. The two newcomers led her to the side room where they depilated her body, trimming her auburn bush into a heart shape with a shaven circle in the centre where her sex lips pouted through. A luxurious bath in hot water followed after which the girls brushed her hair and applied cosmetics to her face and body.

      Suki stood to one side while the preparations were carried out. Looking at Samantha's body she felt a tinge of jealousy and envy. She was considered very beautiful herself, but this new arrival certainly outshone her.

      Finally, Samantha was dressed in her costume and bangles and bracelets, with many tiny bells attached, were placed on her wrists and ankles. She was ready and Achmed was called to inspect her.

      He made one or two minor adjustments then expressed himself satisfied. He ordered the two young slaves to bring the box with the rest of the costumes and cosmetics and, followed by Samantha and Suki, led them from the room to where Lord Selim awaited the evening's entertainment.

      Achmed halted them outside an ornately decorated door on which he knocked. The door opened and the party entered finding themselves behind a latticed screen at one end of a large room. Behind the screen there were several chairs and a table on which the girls placed the box. Towels and a basin of water stood on another table.

      Looking through the screen, Samantha saw the fat merchant, Lord Selim Shah, seated on a huge throne-like chair. Slightly behind him, to his left, stood a light brown skinned man, like the merchant, expensively dressed. He held a staff in one hand and a coiled whip in the other.

      In the corner, to the merchant's right sat several young slave girls dressed in transparent shifts, beneath which they were naked, holding a variety of musical instruments in their hands.

      Achmed whispered instructions in Samantha's ear. She nodded silently. She must dance for the ogre, dance naked eventually, dance as if she was enjoying it, and most importantly ensure that he was satisfied with her performance. This ordeal, as she saw it, was bad enough. It was the way she must satisfy him after the dances that made her feel sick.

      She mentally shrugged these thoughts aside. Whatever her feelings, she must please him and take back a good report. Not to do so would incur consequences that were unthinkable.

      The man standing to the merchant's left banged his staff on the floor twice. The musicians raised their instruments and struck a chord.

      Taking short quick steps, Samantha ran to the centre of the floor and stood with her arms raised above her head, in the usual stance. She kept her eyes downcast.

      The musicians began to play and Samantha's body began to sway to the music. Oblivious to all except the rhythm she danced round the room. Occasionally her eyes flashed at those of the merchant and saw the undisguised lust that shone there.

      Samantha performed several dances, each one increasing the lustful gleam in Selim's eyes. She was aware of the desire her young body was rousing in the merchant and only the thought of returning to Sulieman on the morrow held her feeling of disgust at bay. That and the threat of what would be done to her if she returned with a bad report.

      Achmed joined her in the centre of the area as she began the 'Whip Dance'. Skilfully, Samantha weaved and turned, feeling the rush of air on her body each time the lash 'cracked' within millimetres of her flesh. Selim's eyes glowed brighter as the dance progressed and each time the lash narrowly missed her he leaned forward to see if her body had been marked.

      At last. Samantha was led behind the screen to be prepared for the finale, the 'Veil Dance'. This was to be the real test of her self-control before the final act of degradation of submitting her body to him.

      "You are a beautiful dancer," Suki whispered to her as she sponged Samantha's sweating body with a cool wet cloth." I wish I could dance like you."

        "Don't ever think that," Samantha whispered back. "All my dancing has brought me is trouble and pain."

      All too soon, the veils were in place and the cosmetics and perfume re-applied to her face and body. She was ready.

      Achmed gave a signal to prolong the dance as much as possible. Slowly one by one, the veils fluttered away, each exposing more of her seductive body. She was conscious of the merchant leaning well forward in his chair, his breathing becoming louder and heavier as each veil was discarded.

      Only one veil remained now, the one fixed to the metal ring on top of her head which flowed down all around her gyrating body. The slave's bare feet seemed to glide above the floor as, with a resigned sigh, the last veil fluttered through the air and landed with a whisper at the merchants feet.

      For a few minutes more she danced, her nakedness tantalising the fat merchant, until the final moment could not be delayed any longer. Slowly, seductively, Samantha lowered herself to her knees before the gross man. Taking a deep breath she turned onto her back and, as the music ended with a roll on the drums, spread her legs wide, raised herself onto her heels and shoulders thrusting her open sex at the man's suffused face.

      Achmed and Suki hurried her from the room, back to her own quarters where she was ordered to bathe. Everything seemed to be done in a mad rush. The bath, her hair brushed and cosmetics and subtle perfume applied. Before she realised what was happening or where she was, Samantha was led naked to Lord Selim Shah's bedroom.

      Naked, tied spread-eagled on a large divan, she waited for the final part of her ordeal to take place. Certain that her dancing had pleased the man, she now steeled herself to ensure that what she was about to endure would more than satisfy him, no matter what the cost to her night be.

      She longed to be returned to her Master, Sulieman. To be welcomed to his bed and surrender to his pleasure. This depended on her performance this night. Failure and the consequent lashing with the cat-o-nine tails and transportation to a port brothel did not bear thinking about.

      The door to the room opened and closed. She heard bare footsteps approach and the sound of heavy wheezing filled her ears. She looked down her body, past her upthrust breasts and saw Selim standing at the foot of the divan. Her horror at the blatant lust in his eyes as he looked down at her nakedness was only surpassed by the sight of his thick rampant penis that was disclosed as his robe slipped from his shoulders.

      Samantha closed her eyes to shut out the repulsive sight of his grossly fat flabby torso. She felt him kneel between her legs. Suddenly the air was forced from her lungs as he descended upon her, his penis forcing a passage between her sex lips and into her love tunnel.

      It had been some time since her last taking by Sulieman and, to her horror, she felt her body responding, closing around the intruder, as if welcoming his entry. She felt her body trying to rise under his suffocating weight.

      Two hands found and squeezed her breasts as he shed his pleasure into her. Samantha breathed a sigh of relief as his body slid onto the divan at her side. Now only one last act of humiliation and her ordeal would be over. Wheezing with the effort, Selim Shah released her bonds. She eased herself down the divan until her face was level with his weapon. Steeling herself, Samantha took it into her mouth and began to lick him clean.

      If she had thought that her ordeal would be over this easy, she had been terribly mistaken. The merchant mat have lacked in many things but his libido and stamina were not among them. Time after time his desires were reawakened and Samantha lost count of the times she was used. Her body, if not her mind revelled in the experience and, she was sure, it was only her disgust for his obesity that prevented her from coming herself.

      Totally exhausted and disgusted by the night's events, Samantha welcomed the first rays of sunlight that heralded the dawn of day. The day she was to be returned to her Master, Sulieman.

      Achmed came for her before Selim awoke and returned her to the quarters that had been allotted to her. Suki awaited her and, after a bath and refreshments, persuaded Samantha to rest. No sooner had she dropped onto the couch than her eyelids closed and she slipped into a deep sleep.

      When she finally awoke, refreshed, she found Suki again at her side. Another bath and more food and she was ready for her journey back to her Master.

      Achmed came for her. Instead of being taken to the entrance hall, she was led to another room, the one where she had danced the previous evening. Lord Selim Shah was again seated on the throne. Samantha approached and fell to her knees before him.

      "This slave begs permission to speak, Master," Samantha said quietly. The words nearly stuck in her throat, but she was playing her part, as she must, to ensure she took back a good report.

      "Granted."

      "I hope that Master has found this slave pleasing and will send her back to her Master with a good report."

      "I must admit, I did find you pleasing. More than I had hoped for."

      Samantha inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. However she was in no way prepared for what was to follow.

      "As for sending you back to Sulieman," he continued, "that is out of the question."

      "Why?" Samantha blurted out, completely bewildered.

      "Simply because you are no longer his slave. He sold you to me. You are now mine."

      Samantha raised her eyes to his, shocked disbelief on her face. This couldn't be, she tried to tell herself. Her Master loved her and would never sell her.

      The look of triumph on Lord Selim's face told her she was wrong.

      Utter panic took control, she leapt to her feet and turned to run from the room. She did not manage two paces before two hefty eunuchs grasped her arms and turned her about to face Selim.

      "This cannot be!" Samantha started to scream at the fat merchant. "I belong to my Master, Sulieman. He would never sell me. He loves me!"

      "Silence!" Lord Selim's voice thundered in the room.

      "I will never serve you, never be your slave! You are repulsive and fat and you stink!" Samantha continued her tirade at the man, completely oblivious to the danger to which she was exposing herself.

      "Micha." The merchant turned to his major domo who had watched all this from one side of the room. "You have the papers. Read them out loud. Convince the slave that she is now mine."

      Micha stepped forward, unfolded a sheet of paper and began to read.

      Samantha, her mind in a turmoil, hardly heard the words he spoke, but she heard enough to understand the truth of her situation. She was now the fat merchant's property. Realisation of the seriousness of her outburst suddenly fell on her.

      "Achmed." Selim's voice thundered in the room. "The slave has spoken without permission. She has insulted me. She must be taught submission. Here and now. See to it."

      Everything then seemed to happen in slow motion for Samantha. She was thrown to the floor and, with a eunuch holding each wrist and ankle, she was spread-eagled as they pulled her limbs taut. Another coiled her hair and pulled it above her head.

      Achmed unclipped the whip from his waist, stood to one side and proceeded to lash the slave. Her back, shoulders, buttocks and thighs felt the terrible thong as it was laid across them. She screamed and struggled but she was too securely held.

      Samantha felt the lash seeking out and biting into every inch of the soft flesh which was offered up to it. She struggled to no avail. This was something to which she was not accustomed. A heavy sweat broke out all over her body as she screamed with pain and terror. Her wrists and ankles hurt where the eunuchs' hands held them in a fast grip.

      The lashing stopped. She heard Lord Selim bark an order. The hands holding her firm were released. Was it over? She could hardly believe it as suddenly she was turned onto her back and her limbs stretched out in the same vice-like grip.

      She shook her head clearing the tears from her eyes. She creamed in terror as she saw Achmed raise his arm. She watched in dreadful fascination as the lash descended yet again. A searing pain erupted in her breasts as the stroke found both her nipples. The next raised a line of pain across her stomach then her sex lips suffered similar treatment.

      Samantha lost all sense of reality as Achmed flayed her succulent body sending her terrified screams echoing round the room. Then her mind could stand the pain no longer and she sank into the blessed relief of unconsciousness.

      The mist began to clear and, with the return of consciousness, she was aware of the agony that seemed to be consuming the whole of her body. She tried to scream only to find that a ball gag had been inserted in her mouth. She felt a strange weight pulling on her arms.

      The mist finally cleared and she discovered that she was suspended by a rope tied to her wrists. Lines of fire burnt her body, back and front, recalling the memory of what had been done to her. Used as she was to being punished, this flogging bore no resemblance to the many chastisements she had been subjected to previously. And this suspension after such a savage flogging, this was pure spite.

      She looked around. She was hanging from a rafter in the ceiling of a large luxurious room. She saw several girls in the room, some naked, others dressed in transparent revealing garments, lounging on cushions or couches. To one side stood a half naked black man with a coiled whip and cane hanging from the wide leather belt at his waist.

      She didn't know how long she hung there. The agony from the whipping and the strain on her arms made it seem like weeks. It was, actually, four hours before the ropes were relaxed and she was lowered to the ground. She fell in a crumpled heap on the cool tiles of the floor. The ball gag was removed from her mouth and she gasped, drawing air into her lungs.

      Suki and another girl helped her to her feet and supported her as they guided her to a side room and laid her down on a couch. They commenced bathing her face and body with cloths soaked in cold water.

      The two worked on her in silence. Samantha, remembering what Lord Selim had told her before the flogging, was too stunned to try and make conversation. Her Master, Sulieman, whom she had come to love had sold her to the gross merchant. She felt alone and dejected. Why had he done this to her? What had she done wrong? What was now to happen to her?

      The more she thought on these things the more desolate she felt. Try as she might, she couldn't find the answers to the questions that raced around in her brain. The only conclusion that kept returning was that she was a slave and any man who owned her could do to her whatever he wished. It was not for her to question why!

      Several days passed during which Samantha got to know the other occupants of the merchant's harem. Suki took her under her wing and explained the rules. Slowly, thanks to the ointments and creams that were liberally applied to her body, the bruises from her flogging receded until only faint marks remained.

      Like most harem slaves, the girls were not required to work and the time passed slowly. Samantha was not summoned to Lord Selim, for which she was grateful, and spent the time lounging in the harem itself or the adjoining garden. Suki and the other girls questioned her about her past life with interest, it was the first time they had met a clan girl and they plied her with many questions.

      The position of First Girl remained vacant and it was a topic that was not discussed. None of the girls wanted to be chosen as this meant they would be required to serve the Master most a task that none of them relished.

      Samantha learnt that discipline in the harem was strict and, as she had found out already, any transgressions were severely dealt with. Much to the girls' delight, the 'Friday Court' following Samantha's arrival, was cancelled, although their joy was short lived when Achmed informed them that 'Black Marks' would be carried over to the next.

      This, they found out, was because Lord Selim would be away for a few days on business and he always insisted in being present. Micha and Achmed had accompanied the Lord and, for a while, the strict regime in the harem was relaxed.

      The slaves took full advantage of these absences and their mood was happy and relaxed.

  Chapter 17

      Lord Selim's return on the Monday saw a return of the strict regime. The easy going attitude that the slaves had enjoyed disappeared as if by magic and they concentrated on keeping out of trouble. Not an easy task with Achmed ensuring his minions were more attentive to their duties.

      Samantha was called upon to entertain the Master after the evening meal most evenings but, to her relief, he refrained from summoning her to his bed. It was always some other girl who was selected for this pleasure.

      The Friday after Lord Selim's return saw Samantha attending her first 'Friday Court'.

      All the slaves were ordered to dress in the 'Court Costume' baggy trousers, gathered at the ankles and a tiny bolero jacket that only covered the lower half of their breasts.

      Achmed led the girls, in single file, from the harem to the room where the 'Court' was held each week. They filed into the room and along one side until, at an order from Achmed, they halted. Another order and they turned to face into the room and knelt.

      Samantha shuddered as she saw a heavy wooden stool in the centre of the room and a table on which lay a long thin cane and, what she assumed was the birch. Her eyes fastened on this horror. A bundle of long straight canes, very thin, tied together at one end to from a handle. It looked very threatening, lying there on the table. She remembered Suki saying that each stroke was worse than a dozen with the single cane!

      The silence in the room was eventually broken as Lord Selim entered and sat down on a chair on a raised dais to the slaves' right. His major domo stood at his left.

      On Lord Selim's entrance, the slaves had placed the palms of their hands on the floor in front of them and bowed until their foreheads touched the floor. They heard, but could not see, Achmed and two of his minions take their position on the other side of the table.

      "Proceed. Achmed." Lord Selim's voice broke the silence.

      "Rise!" Achmed commanded.

      As one, the slaves raised their heads from the floor and sat upright, their buttocks resting on their heels. They kept their eyes fastened on the stool, their hands placed, palms upwards, on their knees.

      Samantha peered out of the corner of her eye at Suki who knelt to her right. She saw a tremor pass over her friend's body and remembered what she had told her-the rules that applied during the carrying out of the sentences.

      No girl was aware of the number of 'Black Marks' against her name and prayed that, if her count was not 'nil', she would not be in the top five.

      A feeling of expectancy descended on the line of kneeling slaves as Achmed walked to stand between the table and the stool, facing the line, a board in his hands.

      "The following slaves have no 'Black Marks'," his high pitched voice echoed in the silence. He then read out five names. As each girl's name was announced she rose and stood in a line several paces behind the stool.

      "Yasmin. Four 'Marks'," Achmed announced.

      Samantha saw one of the kneeling girl rise and walk nervously and stand by the stool, facing the Master. A girl from the standing line stepped forward and drew the slave's trousers down to her knees and returned to her position.

      "Four strokes."

      Samantha watched as the girl at the stool bent over, gripped the front legs tight and raised her eyes and looked directly into those of her Master.

      One of the minions picked up the cane and walked to the bent girl's left.

      Samantha saw the girl tighten her grip on the stool legs. She must be keeping her eyes fixed on her Master's throughout the beating. She must keep perfectly still and silent except for counting the strokes as each was applied. These were the rules that Suki had explained to her earlier that morning.

      The minion lashed the cane across the proffered buttocks for the stated four strokes leaving a short pause between each. The girl remained still as the cane raised red weals on her pale cheeks. The only sound she made was to count the strokes, the last one in a hurried gasp. Even after the last stroke she did not move until given permission by Achmed. Then she rose and, rubbing her bottom frantically, returned to kneel in her place, tears flowing from her eyes.

      Samantha saw three more girls bend over the stool and receive their beating, two received five strokes and one six.

      "Samantha. Eight 'Marks'" Achmed announced.

      Relieved that she was not one of the group to feel the birch, Samantha rose and walked to the stool. She felt her trousers lowered to her knees and bent over clamping her small hands to the front legs of the stool. She raised her eyes until they focused on the face of her Master.

      A feeling of disgust shuddered through her as she saw the undisguised lust and enjoyment on that fat repulsive face. She tried to blot out the image from her brain. She must keep still and silent and count the strokes. Any other sound, any movement or miss-counting would, she knew, cause the stroke to be repeated.

      She sensed the minion take up his position, heard the swish of the cane as it descended. The stroke landed across the centre of the cheeks creating an immediate line of fire.

      "One." She heard her own voice begin the count.

      She was well versed in the receiving of thrashings but, later in the harem, she found it hard to believe that she had survived eight of those searing strokes without moving or breaking silence except for the count which, to her surprise, she got right.

      On Achmed's order, she rose and, forcing herself not to give her Master the pleasure of seeing her rub her buttocks, resumed her place kneeling in line.

      As it turned out, she was the last girl to be caned.

      "The remaining slaves are the top five," Achmed announced.

      A heavy silence filled the room. Samantha looked sideways at Suki and saw that her friend was visibly trembling. She was one of the last five.

      "Melina. Nine 'Marks'." The words echoed round the room as the named girl rose from her knees.

      To Samantha's surprise, instead of going to the stool, Melina moved to stand in front of the Master. Slowly she stripped herself naked and knelt before him, her forehead touching the floor.

      "Master, your slave begs to earn forgiveness." The soft husky voice rose from the prone girl.

      "Earn it then, slave," Lord Selim replied, his hard voice sending shivers through the girl.

      Melina rose and walked to the stool and stool there, her back to her Master.

      Two of Achmed's minions stepped forward and grabbed the girl. Roughly they forced her over the stool and tied her wrists to the legs. The feet were pulled wide apart and her ankles tied to rings in the floor, her position exposing her sex and anus to her Master's gaze.

      Achmed, this time, removed the embroidered jacket he was wearing and, picking up the birch, took his position.

      Samantha, still feeling the burning in her own bottom from the cane, cringed as she watched the eunuch raise the birch high and bring it whistling down on Melina's taut buttocks. A deep groan of pain escaped the girl's clenched teeth.

      Not daring to look away, this was expressly forbidden, Samantha watched Achmed lash the birch across Melina's buttocks nineteen times. She tried to take the thrashing bravely, but, after five of those terrible strokes, she was writhing and yelling as the agony built up inside her.

      Melina was followed by three more slaves who each received twenty strokes. Their writhing and screams as their punishments were meted out sent strange sensations flowing through Samantha. Her own caning had awakened an arousal. This was the first time she had witnessed other girls being flogged for a long time and she was ashamed at the effect the beatings were inducing in her. As she joined with the others counting the strokes aloud her arousal intensifed.

      The birch raised livid weals on the girls' buttocks and, after each had received ten strokes, the rest drew lines of bright red where the swollen skin had been cut. This, far from nauseating Samantha as the knew it should, only seemed to increase the stimulation the beating was having on her.

      As the fourth girl to be birched returned, weeping heavily and walking very gingerly to her place, Samantha heard a soft plaintive sigh come from Suki at her side. She had been left to last and would, by custom, received the worst flogging. Suki, as a disgraced First Girl, had expected this!

      "Suki. Fifteen Marks." Achmed announced, his voice cutting above the quiet sobbing that still came from the birched slaves.

      Samantha felt a surge of pity as her friend rose gracefully from her knees and walked slowly towards her seated Master. Samantha was in for a nasty shock. Knowing that she was most likely to be the one with the highest penalties, Suki had omitted to tell her friend one of the rules.

      Suki halted before her Master. Her fingers fumbled slightly as she seductively discarded her clothing. She stood naked for a moment or two before sinking to her knees. Slowly she stretched herself prone on the floor, her arms reaching forward until her finger-tips touched her Master's slippers.

      "Master, Your slave begs to earn forgiveness."

      Samantha heard her friend utter the required incantation but was unprepared for what was to follow. "I have disgraced myself by being the worst offender this week," Suki continued, "I humbly ask my Master to increase my punishment by ten strokes."

      "Earn your forgiveness. Your request is granted."

      Samantha let out a gasp of disbelief as she realised her friend was to receive thirty strokes of that terrible birch, and she had actually asked, begged in fact, for ten of them. Her friend must either be mad or desperate to be reinstated as First Girl.

      Suki regained her feet and turned to face the stool. Taking a deep breath she walked towards the place where the other girls had earned their forgiveness. She halted at the stool and turned her head to Achmed.

      "Master." Her voice sounded soft and strained in the silence. "This slave humbly begs to earn her Master's forgiveness. Please punish her with thirty five of the severest strokes of the birch on her bare bottom."

      Samantha just managed to stifle another gasp as she heard her friend's request. Her eyes opened wide as she noticed Suki's nipples swell and harden as she draped her curvaceous body over the stool. The two minions stepped forward and tied the slave's wrists to the stool legs, spread her ankles wide and tied them to the rings then tightened a wide leather strap over her waist forcing the slave's belly hard onto the padded leather top.

      The echo of rattan on flesh and the slaves' voices counting was all that followed the first six strokes. Somehow Suki managed to remain silent, uttering only a short gasp each time her buttocks were stuck.

      As the punishment progressed, stroke by stroke, Suki's groans turned to cries which in turn became shrill screams. With her waist pinioned to the stool, she was unable to writhe to ease the scorching agony that built up in her bottom and spread to the whole of her body.

      Samantha watched in dreadful fascination as Suki's buttocks turned from their usual pale colour until their entire area was dark red. She even thought she could feel on her face the heat was being generated in her friend's bottom. Gradually the dark red turned to a bright red in more and more places.

      In unison with the other slaves, Samantha counted the strokes out loud. With each lash she felt the arousal building up in her body at the sheer eroticism of the utter domination being unfolded before her. A feeling of shame and guilt flowed over her as, seeing Suki collapse over the stool on the twentieth stroke, she realised her hand was frantically rubbing her open sex.

      She felt her face redden as she quickly snatched her hand away hoping that her offence had not been seen. She looked up and saw one of his minions looking straight at her a smile curling his mouth. Her heart missed a beat as she realised her act of self indulgence had been seen.

      Neighing and mewing in a fog of agony, Suki suffered the remaining fifteen strokes of her thrashing. As Achmed returned the red flecked birch to the table, his minions released the slave's bonds. She slid to a crumpled sobbing heap on the floor.

      One of the slaves who had not, that day been punished, ran forward and wiped a cold wet cloth over the suffering girl's face. Suki shook her head from side to side trying to dispel the mist before her eyes. She pushed herself up on to her hands and knees and crawled towards her Master. She stopped before him and lowered her forehead to the ground.

      "Your slave thanks her Master for her beating." Slowly, hesitating with pain, Suki uttered the words that would signify the end of her ordeal, at least for this time.

      She slowly crawled back to her place at Samantha's side and, uttering a deep groan, knelt, lowering her raging bottom onto her heels.

      With the final penance having been suffered, Samantha expected the 'Friday Court' to be dismissed and the slaves to be sent back to the harem to tend to each others' sore bottoms. However, they were signalled to remain kneeling as one of the minions whispered in Achmed's ear.

      A look of anger flushed his face. He, in turn, approached Lord Selim and leaning close, whispered to him. A shocked expression filled the Lord's face as he slowly nodded his head. Achmed strode back to the centre of the room.

      Achmed turned to face the line of kneeling slaves who had now been joined by those who had not been beaten.

      "Samantha." Achmed barked the name and pointed to the ground in front of him.

      The slave rose and stood where he pointed, facing him.

      "You know what offence you have committed?"

      "Yes Master." The hardness of his tone forbade any other answer.

      "Strip."

      With fumbling fingers, Samantha quickly removed the bolero and trousers and stood naked before him, conscious that the eight cane weals on her bottom were now displayed.

      "Lay down. Face up."

      Samantha obeyed. She felt a eunuch take hold of an ankle each and raise her legs, spreading them well apart. Two feet were placed on her stomach, pressing her to the ground. Her feeling of deep shame at the way she was now displayed turned to panic as she saw Achmed stand in front of her, the terrible birch in his hand.

      "If any ask why you were punished thus, you will answer them with the truth. Understand slave?"

      "Yes Master."

      The gasped words had hardly left her lips before Samantha saw the birch descending between her spread legs. Her sex mound exploded in agony as her scream echoed round the room. She tried to struggle but the eunuchs held her firm. She screamed and screamed in pain and humiliation as the birch descended another four times, each stroke sending exquisite agony from her sex lips deep into her love tunnel.

      The eunuchs released their hold and Samantha jerked into a ball, her hands frantically rubbing her flaming mound and vulva. The very offence for which she had just been beaten but the pain was so intense she didn't care.

      Slowly, agonisingly, she crawled back to her position, her face bright red with shame and humiliation and tears flowing down her cheeks. It was with great difficulty that she regained her kneeling position beside Suki, who was still weeping silently with the pain of her thrashing.

      The walk back to the harem was a series of agonising steps, especially for Samantha. The five girls who had not been beaten had their work cut out attending to those who had.

      Suki, Samantha and the other four who had been birched received the most attention. Samantha cringed with humiliation as soothing cream was smeared over the place where she had been birched but, to her surprise, no one asked why she had been beaten there.

      It was some time later, when she and Suki were reclining on couches in the garden, that Samantha decided to 'come clean' with her friend before questions were asked.

      "Suki. I have a confession. I was..."

      She got no further. Suki put her fingers to Samantha's lips halting her words.

      "You don't need to explain." Suki whispered. "We all know. Do not feel bad about what you were doing. We all have the same urge when watching a thrashing, we have just learnt to control ourselves. Most of us have been beaten there for being caught. You were lucky it was only the birch, when I was caught I felt the whip."

      "You weren't whipped there?" Samantha asked incredulously, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. It seemed barbaric to beat a woman there anyway but to use a whip defied belief.

      "I was. Really!" Suki answered. "A girl, who has since been sold, was being whipped, not as usual on her back, but on her breasts. I was so aroused by it that I lost control and was seen. Unfortunately for me, it was the many thonged whip being used at the time. I was struck five times the same as you. It is the standard punishment."

      Samantha digested this in silence. So her offence did not horrify the slaves as she had expected. This knowledge eased away the burden of guilt that had clouded over her since she had been caught in the act.

      Many more 'Friday Courts' were held and, no matter how great the temptation, Samantha kept her hands firmly on her knees. A repeat of her ordeal was not to be risked!

  Chapter 18

      Samantha lay on a couch in the garden. It was several weeks since her first appearance at the 'Friday Court'. She still found these sensations extremely arousing but, due to that experience with the birch she had resisted the temptation to touch herself there.

      Twice she found that she was in the top five and was beaten with the birch, these times across her tender bottom. As Suki had said, the birch was far worse than the cane or whip and the increased arousal it induced was almost beyond her ability to control. But control it she did, the fear of another birching 'there' outweighing her need for release.

      Several times a week, she was called to dance for Lord Selim and, on occasions, his guests. Her Master never failed to inform the guests that his slave was once a clan girl. This added to their interest and made him the envy of those who enjoyed her performance.

      Due to the weekly 'Friday Courts' and the imposition of the strict regime in the harem, her bottom never seemed to be free of the evidence of punishment. The frequent beatings, hers and those she was made to watch, caused her extreme torment as her body reacted and the arousals were never satisfied.

      Her occasional summons to her Master's bed did nothing to help. Although she did her best to please, she had no choice if she wished to avoid a severe flogging, she received no pleasure. The obese body which she had to serve dampened any desire for fulfilment she would otherwise have craved.

      Night was the worst time. She lay on her divan suffering such sheer frustration that she was frequently heard weeping softly into the pillow on which her head rested. She fought hard to resist the temptation to make herself orgasm and quell the burning need. The ever watchful eyes of the eunuchs prohibiting this. The certainty of discovery, and the eusuing penalty, kept her hands well away from her aching sex.

      Worst of all, however, was her desire to be held again in the arms of Sulieman. To feel his strong muscular body against hers and his manhood taking his pleasure of her was her greatest wish. No matter how long she was separated from him, she still thought of him as her true Master.

      She became moody and frequently sought her own company, as far as she could within the confines of the harem, as a deep depression descended over her. These moods affected her dancing and many times she found herself being thrashed because her performance had not pleased her Master.

      Lord Selim Shah became tired of the girl. She had become a great disappointment to him. The novelty of having a clan girl in his harem had worn off. Her dancing no longer entranced him as it had done, and she had never given him the sexual pleasures he had anticipated.

      He decided to be rid of her! To sell her!

      He invited one of his distant cousins, a slave dealer, to dine with him and ordered Micha to ensure the girl danced for them, and danced well.

      Samantha was summoned to Achmed and given instructions.

      Under Achmed's careful supervision, Suki and another girl prepared the slave ready for the entertainment Lord Selim had ordered.

      The two slaves stood behind the screen in the dining hall waiting for Achmed to come and send Samantha out for her first dance.

      "So it's true," Suki whispered as she looked through the screen at the guest seated at the dining table.

      "What's true?" Samantha asked, not really interested in the answer. She was feeling more depressed than usual.

      "That is Abdul Shah at the table. The Master's cousin. He is a slave dealer."

      "So what!" Samantha replied belligerently.

      "Don't let on what I told you or I will be terribly whipped." Suki whispered. "I heard a rumour that the Master intends to sell you. Perhaps that is why his cousin is here. To assess you."

      The depression that had sunk over Samantha suddenly lifted. If what Suki had said was true, she was to escape from the terrible imprisonment of Selim's harem. As much as she liked her friend, any chance to get away from the fat merchant seemed like a ray of sunshine in a storm.

      Her thoughts were interrupted by several musicians taking their place in the hall and Achmed returning to tell her the time for the performance had come.

      Believing that the slave dealer held the means of deliverance from her present private hell, Samantha shrugged off the final shreds of her lethargy. If she performed well maybe he would agree to put her for sale in his establishment. Then, if she was lucky, she might be brought by a handsome Master. He would not be her Sulieman but anyone would be preferable to the ogre she was made to serve here.

      The signal was given and the musicians began to play. Samantha moved from behind the screen and began to dance to the rhythm. She performed several dances including the 'Whip Dance' and ended with the 'Veil Dance'. Risking earning her Master's displeasure, she concentrated her attentions on the slave dealer it was, after all, on him that her future depended.

      Finally, at the end of the 'Veil Dance' having thrust her sex at the slaver as seductively as she could, she turned and knelt before her Master, her forehead to the floor.

      "Well. What do you think?" she heard Selim say.

      "She shows promise. I understand she was once a clan girl. They are notoriously difficult to manage."

      "The clan girl has been well beaten out of her," she heard her Master say quickly.

      "That is as may be," the slaver responded doubtfully. "Can she do anything else apart from dancing?"

      "She pleasures satisfactorily," Lord Selim replied. "You may see for yourself later if you wish."

      Samantha continued to kneel, listening to them discussing her as if she were an animal. She so much wanted the slaver to find her acceptable.

      "She has one other attraction that your clients may find interesting."

      Samantha heard her Master say. She wondered what he meant. She was soon to find out.

      Lord Selim turned to Micha who was standing behind him and whispered an order. The major domo left the room only to return almost immediately with two eunuchs carrying a high padded bench which they set down in the centre of the room. Samantha heard the sounds but could not see what was being prepared. Something for her discomfort, no doubt, she thought.

      "Stand slave," Lord Selim commanded.

      Samantha rose to her feet and stood facing her Master and his guest, conscious of the latter's appraisal of her nakedness.

      "Proceed with my instructions, Achmed."   Samantha felt her arms grasped as she was turned round facing away from the seated man. A gasp of dismay escaped her lips as she saw the bench and a eunuch standing near it, the long thin cane in his hands. Then she noticed something. A thick round wooden prong, some eight or nine inches high, with a rounded end had been fixed near one end of the bench. It was canted over at an angle.

      It suddenly dawned on her what was about to take place. The arousal bubbling inside her from her dancing began to flare. It came as no shack to her when she was led to stand astride the bench with the post between her legs.

      She felt her ankles tied to the legs of the bench and, as Achmed ordered, she bent over until her shoulders rested on the other end. Her wrists were quickly tied to the legs. She felt the rounded top of the post brush against her sensitive sex lips. She felt them swell and peel open at the touch.

      "You will find this most interesting, I am sure," Lord Selim said to his cousin as they both rose and moved neat to the shivering slave.

      "Keep off the post, slave," Achmed ordered, then nodded to his minion.

      Samantha heard the swish as the cane descended and bit into her bottom. The force of the stroke made her edge forward making the top of the post rub against her sex, stimulating her arousal.

      Eight times the cane curled round her taut buttocks, each stroke increasing the effect on her sex. She took the strokes in silence except for a slight gasp as each added to the fire in her cheeks.

      "Is she ready?" she heard Lord Selim ask.

      A hand cupped her mound from behind as a finger slipped between her sex. She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a groan of despair as needs were further fuelled by the touch.

      "Not quite, My Lord. Six more should do it," Achmed replied.

"After another six, then. Make them harder."

      "Impale yourself after the the six," Achmet whispered in her ear.

      Samantha tightened her grip on the bench legs. Her head jerked up and she screamed as the cane bit viciously into the softer flesh of her bottom, just above the junction with the thighs. She took the next five strokes with her bottom thrust up as far as she could, holding her vulva away from the post as much as she could.

      Samantha concentrated on counting the strokes and after the sixth cut into her bottom, thrust herself down on the post. Her scream that had followed the stroke was followed by a cry of relief as the smooth wooden post disappeared into her tunnel.

      Completely oblivious to the men watching at her side she began to fuck the post frantically. Her needs were driving her wild and she was unaware of the cane continuing to lash her buttocks, and even the backs of her thighs, as she strove to satisfy the orgasm raging in her body.

      Achmed's minion continued to thrash her as release finally came in the form of a multiple orgasm. Spasm after spasm reached through her body as she continued to pump up and down on the post until finally she slumped exhausted on the bench, the wooden implement deeply impaled in her sweating body.

      The eunuchs lifted her off the bench and threw her to the floor in front of Lord Selim and his cousin. Slowly, Samantha surfaced through the mist that clouded her mind. She became conscious of the fire throbbing in her buttocks and of the two men talking.

      "Most interesting," she heard the slaver say. "She may prove of interest to one of my customers who is always seeking something out of the ordinary."

      "You'll take her then?"

      "I don't see why not. Have her cleaned up while we discuss prices and commission."

      At a sign from Lord Selim, Samantha was pulled to her feet by two eunuchs and, half walking half dragged, taken from the room. She was made to take a quick bath and then led, still naked, to the main hall of the building where Lord Selim and the slaver were waiting.

      The slaver gave a sign to his man. Samantha felt her wrists manacled behind her back and a strap secured her upper arms pulling her elbows nearly together. Manacles separated by a short chain, were attached to her ankles. Finally, a blindfold was tied over her eyes.

      Exchanging farewells with Lord Selim, the merchant strode from the hall to a carriage that stood in the courtyard. Samantha was led by the arm and lifted on to a small platform at the rear of the carriage. More chains secured her in place.

      The carriage set off. A flush of embarrassment and excitement reddened her face as she realised that she was fully exposed to all who chose to look at her. A sense of relief raised her spirits as she mentally bade farewell to the terrible place that had been the scene of so much unhappiness and pain.

      The journey seemed to take all day. Samantha, her eyes covered by the blindfold, had no idea where they were. She occasionally heard lewd comments called to the merchant as they passed through cobbled streets. She felt the warmth of the sun on her naked body reminding her how exposed she was to the eyes of all they passed.

      Samantha contemplated the unknown future ahead of her. She may have seen the last of Lord Selim and his flabby body that had disgusted so often but what fate awaited her? She was to be sold, she knew, and the thought sent shivers of excitement through her.

      What form would the sale take? Who would buy, and then own, her body? Would she become the property of a Master who would conquer her and make her love him, as her Sulieman had? These questions raced through her mind, chasing one another in circles, but no answer came.

      The journey eventually ended. Samantha was lifted from the carriage and led into a building. Her eyes were uncovered and, as they became accustomed to the light, she found herself in a large hall. She was led through a door, down a flight of stone steps and along a corridor. She passed several doors until one was opened and she was pushed through.

      She looked around her and shuddered as she saw a row of metal barred cages along one wall. Several were occupied by naked females, of varying coloured skin but all very beautiful. The frightened looked on their faces told her that this place was not going to be pleasant.

      One of the eunuchs escorting her ordered her to remain silent at all times, then pushed her into one of the empty cages. The door was shut with a loud clang and locked. Her escort disappeared back up the steps leaving her curled up in the cage, shivering with fear.

      Samantha lost count of how many days she spent in the cage. The females were let out, one by one, twice each day and made to exercise by running round the room. They had to scrub the floor of the cage every other day and then stand in a depression at one end of the room as cold water was hosed over them. They were fed twice a day with a vile tasting gruel which they were made to eat, licking the bowl clean. The guard on duty carried a long switch with he ensured they obeyed instantly.

      The room was quite cold and the switch, applied to their bare flesh, stung terribly. After a couple of strokes, the females made sure they obeyed so as not to feel its sting again.

      The routine changed one morning. Instead of the slaves being pulled from the cages singly, they were called out one by one and a metal band placed round their waists. This was fixed, at intervals, to a long chain. It was by this they were led up the stairs, along a corridor and into a washroom. A large sunken bath filled most of the floor with steam rising from hot water.

      The metal bands were removed and the girls ordered into the bath. Samantha gasped as she slowly sank into the water. Then, as she became used to the heat, lazed back to enjoy the pleasant sensation.

      Under the supervision of one of the eunuchs and an old woman, the slaves were given a sponge and a bar of soap and ordered to wash each other. The eunuch unclipped a long lash from his waist and watched the slaves carefully.

      Once he was sure they were thoroughly clean, the eunuch ordered the slaves from the bath. They were made to dry each other and brush one another's hair until it shone. The old woman then took charge as each girl was ordered to apply cosmetics to her face and body.

      These preparations having been completed, the metal bands were replaced and the line of chained slaves led from the room. The coffle was taken along corridors until they found themselves in a room with a long wooden bench along one side. They were ordered to sit on this and each end of the chain was attached to rings in the wall.

      The slaves waited there, wondering what was to happen to them. They were not kept in suspense for long. A heavily built Negro entered. He informed them that they were now to be sold and instructed them how they were to be have on the sale platform. He then went to a door at the other end of the room, opened it and held a brief conversation with someone on the other side.

      Although they could not see out of the door, the slaves heard the sound of many voices, mostly male, coming from the next room. Samantha shivered with apprehension as she relised that the owner of one of those voices would soon be her new Master. Or Mistress? She squirmed at the thought and prayed that she would not be unfortunate enough to become the property of some woman.

      The door opened again and the first girl in line released from the chain and led through. As the door closed a silence fell on the far room.

      Samantha strained her ears, trying to decipher the faint sounds that came through the door. Only the faint sound of a whip striking bare flesh and a squeal from the unfortunate recipient were distinguishable.

      One by one, girls were removed from the chain and taken through the door. As each one left, the coffle moved up one space. Slowly but surely, Samantha found herself nearing the door until she was next in line.

      The door opened and she was released from the band attaching her to the chain. She stepped through the door and found herself on a large platform. The slaver, himself, took her arm and turned her face into the room. She looked out on a sea of faces that seemed to stretch far away until she realised that the room was in semi-darkness. Only the platform on which she stood was brilliantly lit.

      "My Lords and Ladies." The slaver's raised voice quelled the buzz of conversation in the room.

      "The next lot on offer is a dancer..."

      Samantha stood still, looking out at the sea of faces as the slaver read out her particulars. He extolled her ability as a dancer and as a pleasurer of men. He apologised for the fact that she was not a virgin, a comment that brought hoots of laughter from the gathering.

      Samantha was made to turn her back to the crowd while the finer points of her body were praised by the slaver. And then she was made to adopt various attitudes the intention of which was to accentuate her finest points.

      At last, the slaver having run out of points to praise, she was made to kneel, spreading her knees wide, facing the audience.

      "Now Lords and Ladies, what am I bid for this beautiful piece of slave meat?"

      As the bids were shouted, it was this last comment that sank in to her mind. She, her body, was being sold like an animal. 'A beautiful piece of slave meat' the slaver had called her. Samantha hung her head in shame. So this was what the proud clan troop leader had descended to! Then she reminded herself that she had, long ago, ceased to be a clan girl and had accepted herself as a slave.

      Her fingers strayed to the brand on her thigh and she remembered with pride that she had once been the slave of, and had loved, her Master, Sulieman. She raised her head and looked out at the audience, a sad smile on her lips. The slaver cracked his whip on the floor behind her, making her jump and bringing her wondering mind back to her present predicament.

      She stole a quick glance at the slaver's face. He did not seem well pleased! Perhaps the sale was not going well. Perhaps he was not getting the price he had hoped for her!

      Samantha, wondering what would happen if Abdul Shah did not receive the price he desired, shivered in dread. Would this mean that she would be returned to Lord Selim's harem? This would surely also mean a severe whipping as his anger was vented on her!

      "Beat me, Master," Samantha whispered as she looked up at the slaver.

      A smile spread across his face. The slave had reminded him of her performance in his cousin's hall. He gave instructions to one of his minions who hurried from the auction hall, a puzzled expression on his face.

      "My Lords and Ladies," Abdul Shah called over the buzz of conversation that had begun as the bidding had faltered, "the slave, as you see, is very beautiful. Although she was a clan girl, this has been beaten out of her and we offer an accomplished dancer and a well trained server in giving pleasure to a Master, or Mistress."

      Abdul Shah paused. He had only repeated what he had been saying for some time. He hesitated for a moment. Would his punters appreciate the display he was about to give them? Would this excite them enough to raise the slut's price? He had told his cousin that he had a customer who might be interested in her 'speciality', as he chose to think of her performance. In fact he had invited several prospective buyers to the auction today who might find this aspect of the girl appealing.

      His thinking was interrupted by the return of his man. He was pleased to see the fellow had carried out his orders, although the 'apparatus' he had carried in lacked the professionalism he would normally prefer.

      Samantha peered sideways and saw the bench placed on the platform. Being so openly displayed to a crowd of strangers had awakened her body and she already had the beginnings of an arousal tingling inside her vagina. The sight of the bench being brought on to the platform, and knowing what must follow, gave her further stimulation. She felt her breasts swell and the nipples harden expectantly.

      "My Lords and Ladies." Abdul Shah addressed the crowd, making them fall silent as they wondered what the slaver was about to do. The bench, with its strange attachment at one end, had aroused their curiosity.

      "This slave," he continued, "has a special quality which I am sure will appeal to you. A quality not unknown but still very rare. My principal had given permission for this to be demonstrated to you today in the hope that it will make the bidding exceed the reserve price which, I regret to say, has not yet been reached."

      He whispered an order to the kneeling slave who rose and positioned herself over the end of the bench. The slaver's man secured her ankles and wrists.

      Samantha felt the simulated penis brush against her sex lips, which immediately engorged and spread, ready to receive it into her tunnel. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Abdul Shah remove his jacket and take a long thin cane from his minion.

      He began to lash Samantha's buttocks with the cane.

      Determined to put on as good a display as possible, Samantha received the first six strokes in silence. Each, however, made her body jerk rubbing her sex against the wooden post.

      "Come closer, My Lords and Ladies," Abdul Shah called out. "See how the slave's body is reacting. Note the enlarged breasts and nipples and the moisture glistening on her sex. Surely this enhances her value?"

      He handed the cane to his fellow who continued to rain stroke after stroke on the proffered buttocks. Samantha began to cry out and scream as the heat in her bottom built up and her arousal heightened. Through the onslaught, she heard the bidding start again. The reserve price must be passed!

      "Six more strokes, then impale yourself," she heard the slaver whisper in her ear.

      Samantha counted the six strokes, aware that the minion was laying them on harder than ever. She writhed and screamed and, after the sixth, thrust herself down on the wooden 'penis'. To her horror she felt it to be thicker than she expected and it was not smooth. She was terrified that she would get splinters piercing her vagina as it gripped it tight.

      Fear of being returned to Lord Selim urged her on. She rode the post for all she was worth, the screams of pain and arousal echoing throughout the exhibition hall as she pumped herself to orgasm after orgasm while the cane lashed her mercilessly. Through the mist, she heard bid after bid shouted at the slaver as her performance excited their interest.

She lost all consciousness of the bids and even of the cane lashing her swollen buttocks. The orgasms raging within her consumed her completely until, with a final scream of satisfaction her body was racked with such a devastating climax that she finally collapsed, totally unconscious, on the bench. Sweat poured from her, falling in pools on the floor beneath her.

      Unknown to her, the bids continued to be shouted until, with a very satisfied smile on his face, Abdul Shah raised his fist high and closed it. The slave had been sold!

      Samantha was in a semi-conscious daze. She felt herself lifted off the bench and dragged across the platform and through the door. As she became fully aware of her surroundings, she saw that she had been taken to a side room where Abdul Shah's clerk sat at a table, a pile of forms in front of him.

      He continued to scribble away as Samantha, remembering where she was, scrambled to her knees. She let out a low groan as her heels sank into her still throbbing bottom.

      A man entered. The kneeling slave peered up through her eye lashes and caught her breath in surprise. The man was tall, dark skinned and dressed in what appeared to be a long black cloak. A black turban sat on his head and a black cloth covered the lower half of his face. The eyes above the cloth were dark and menacing.

      "The necessary forms are ready?" he asked of the clerk.

      "Yes. You have the money?"

      Samantha watched from under her downcast eyes as the forms and money were exchanged.

      'So this is the man who had bought me' she thought. 'My new Master'.

      "Thank you for forewarning me about the sale," the newcomer said as he pocketed the forms. "My Lord will be pleased with this new toy."

      Samantha stifled a gasp. If this man was only a servant what must his Master be like?

      "My Lord thought she may be of interest, Shelim Bey. I trust El Raschid will not be disappointed."

      "He will not be," Samantha heard Shelim Bey reply. "We have ways of ensuring that slaves give nothing but perfect pleasure."

      Samantha shuddered with fright at these words. To what fate had her destiny now committed her, she wondered.

      "Have the wench prepared. I must be on my way. The journey will be long," Shelim Bey ordered.

      Samantha was ordered to stand. Her wrists were taken behind her, bending her arms so that they were between her shoulder blades. She felt them manacled together. More manacles, separated by a short chain, encircled her ankles. A long black hooded cloak was put over her and a collar tightened round her neck. She breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes looked out through a fine gauze panel in the hood.

      A tug on the collar and she was led from the room and out of the building. Shelim Bey ordered her to climb into a cart where her ankle chain was attached to a ring in the floor. She felt the cart begin to move.

      The journey lasted several days. They halted once or twice during the day and Samantha was lifted from the cart and allowed to stretch her legs. To ensure that she did not attempt to escape, Shelim Bey's assistant attached a long chain to her collar the other end of which was locked to a wheel of the cart.

      Apart from the discomfort of the cart, Samantha found that she was treated reasonably well. She was fed and given a sweet beverage to drink. Once, when they halted by a small stream, her cloak was removed and she was allowed to wash in the slow moving water. Her escorts kept a sharp eye on her and she heard them discussing her body in favourable terms.

      Neither of her escorts spoke to her, except to give an order, which she obeyed instantly. She was too frightened by their fierce countenance to dare ask permission to speak. She therefore learned nothing about where she was being taken or who her new Master was to be.

      At night, as the temperature dropped, she was chained in the cart and given blankets to lie on and cover herself with. To her surprise, even when dilatory in carrying out an order, she was not cuffed or beaten.

      She was able to see, through the gauze panel, the countryside through which they passed. After two days, the greenery gave way to sand as the party entered the desert. The heat became intense, especially during the middle of the day, and Samantha sweated under the cloak and suffered a terrible thirst which was only quenched as they halted for the evening meal.

      On the third day in the desert, the cart suddenly came to a halt. Samantha looked over the front of the cart and saw that they had breasted a high dune. The ground sloped away from them and, in the distance, she saw a large building nestling in amongst a large number of smaller ones. Tall trees grew all around and she thought she could see what appeared to be quite a large lake.

      Shelim Bey raised a large horn to his lips and blew, sending a deep note echoing over the sand. An answering note bounded back, obviously a signal that all was well and the cart could approach.

      Still looking over the front of the cart, Samantha watched as the buildings grew nearer. Selim Bey's assistant drove the cart through the tangle of smaller buildings and striped tents until they halted at two hung wooden gates in an even higher light brown wall that surrounded the large building.

      The gates swung open, groaning on their hinges the ominous sound sending a shiver down the slave's spine. The cart moves and passed through. Samantha heard the gates groan again as they were closed coming together with a loud clang that seemed to say she would never escape from this new prison.

      There were a lot of people moving about, mostly soldiers Samantha assumed judging by their attire and the weapons that they carried. She did see a few woman but these were dressed in long concealing robes so she could not determine whether they were young or old.

      The cart travelled round the main building until it halted near a door in the rear. Samantha was ordered out and through the door which was opened by a young black man who bowed deeply to Shelim Bey.

      "This is a new slave." Shelim Bey told the man. "Take her and make her ready to be presented to the Master."

      "Yes Sir." The young man answered, then looking at the slave. "Come."

      Samantha followed the black until the halted her in a room with a sunken bath. This was already filled with hot water. An older woman waited to one side.

      "Prepare the slave for the Master," the black ordered.

      "Yes Master."

      Obeying the woman's instructions, Samantha removed the cloak and lay down a bench. The woman proceeded to cover her in a perfumed cream and then, picking up a very sharp knife, shaved the slave.

      "Tch, Tch," Samantha heard the woman say to herself as she saw the fading cane weals on the slave's buttocks. "We will have to do something about those."

      After a good scrubbing in the bath, the woman painted the slave's face and body, carefully rubbing rouge onto her areolae and nipples and outlining her sex lips with kohl. She made the slave bend, holding her ankles, while she applied more cosmetics to the girl's buttocks, until all traces of the weals were hidden.

      A fragrant perfume was added and then Samantha was handed a garment and told to put it on. This consisted of two panels of fine transparent chiffon held together at the shoulders and sides by fine silver chains. A veil of similar material covering the lower half of her face completed the ensemble.

      The woman stood back to allow Shelim Bey to inspect work.

      The eunuch made one or two minor adjustments then ordered the slave to follow him. Through the door, opposite that by which she had entered, and along a corridor until she was halted outside a door guarded by a massive half naked black who held a large curved sword across his chest.

      Shelim Bey unlocked the door and ushered Samantha through, relocking the door behind him.

      "You are now in the harem quarters." He informed the slave, rather unnecessarily she thought. "From here there is no escape. Come."

      As she followed Shelim Bey, Samantha was stunned at the sheer magnificence of the decor. El Raschid must not only be an important person, she decided, but a very rich one. She wondered what he would be like, old ugly and fat, she thought. Just like her last Master, Lord Shelim.

      Her escort led her into a large room, ordered her to stand still in the centre, and then left.

      The room was light and airy and Samantha detected the fragrance of many flowers that wafted in on the light warm breeze. The furnishings and decor were so lavish that Samantha caught her breath in wonder as she glanced around.

      She heard a door open behind her. Soft footsteps approached over the highly polished wooden floor. A man came into her line of vision and halted in front of her. He was dressed in a long white robe, a turban the tail of which covered most of his face, and slippers. A richly studded belt disclosed a narrow waist and Samantha gasped as she saw the rings on his fingers, each one shining with precious jewels.

      Samantha took all this in at a glance. What really held her gaze was his eyes. Apart from his hands, they were all she could see of him as they studied her intently.

      Samantha's knees suddenly felt weak. Who was this man who exuded such magnetism and power that she felt faint just standing there before him? Could this be her new Master? A sudden panic surged over her. She was standing in his presence! A serious offence!

      Praying that he would not have her beaten for her disrespect, Samantha fell to her knees and lowered her forehead to the floor at his feet.

      "Forgive your slave, Master." Even to her, her voice sounded soft and seductive.

      "I am your Master, El Raschid."

      Samantha nearly swooned at the sound of his voice. Soft, deep, yet dripping with authority.

      The kneeling slave was at a loss for words. She didn't know if he expected her to reply so she remained silent.

      "Stand."

      Samantha hastily obeyed, keeping her eyes demurely lowered.

      "You were once a clan girl? A troop leader?" He asked.

      "Yes Master." She replied, wondering if her honest reply would displease him.

      "I am told the clan girl in your has been beaten out. Is that true?"

      "It's true that I have been well beaten, and frequently Master," Samantha replied softly. "Whether the clan girl has been beaten out of me, I don't truly know."

      El Raschid scrutinised the girl standing before him. She had replied honestly and that pleased him. Perhaps there was still a little of the clan girl left in her! He clapped his hands and Shelim Bey entered.

      "Bring me two swords." El Raschid ordered.

      Shelim Bey hurried from the room and returned a few minutes later carrying two curved swords which he handed to El Raschid and moved to one side of the room.

      The Master held one of the swords out towards his slave. "Take it," he ordered.

      Samantha looked at the sword and then at her Master. She quickly put her hands behind her back.

      "Please Master," she said. "It is an offence punishable by death for a slave to even touch a weapon."

      "Take it, slave. You will not be punished for obeying an order."

      Samantha slowly reached out and took the scimitar. It seemed years since she had last held a weapon, yet it immediately felt comfortable in her hand. She looked up at her Master's face questioningly. What strange game was he playing with her?

      "Good," El Raschid said, stepping back a pace or two. "Now defend yourself."

      Samantha saw the sword flash in his hand as it swept towards her. Instinctively, she parried the blow with the sword in her hand.

      El Raschid thrust and lunged at the slave for several minutes, smiling to himself as she countered each attack. At first she was clumsy but soon her instinct overcame her slave attitude and her, once famed, dexterity returned.

      "Very good" El Raschid stepped back and halted his attack. "Now it is your turn. Try and kill me."

      "No!" Samantha gasped in horror. "No Master. I would not dare to. I may hurt you and then I would die."

      "You will not hurt me, slave." El Raschid laughed. "Neither will you die. Now do as I ordered -  or was it a lie that you once led a clan troop?"

      Samantha was completely stunned at the situation in which she found herself. He had doubted that she had led a clan troop! Very well, she thought, I will show him.

      Her long latent skill returned and began to attack him, using all the skills and cunning that had earned her the promotion in the clan. El Raschid defended himself, turning aside each attack the slave made at him, until he saw the signs that she was tiring.

      With a sudden movement, judging the moment expertly, his sword lunged and sent Samantha's weapon spinning from her hand across the floor. She stood panting and frightened, not knowing what was to happen next.

      "You are quite good." The smile was still on his lips. "Now I believe you once led a troop."

      Samantha looked up at him and, for the first time noticed that his face was uncovered. The weakness returned to her legs as she saw that he was young and handsome.

      "I was curious," she heard her Master say, "when I heard that a slave, who was once a clan leader was for sale. Shelim had my order to buy you whatever the cost."

      Samantha was even more confused at these words. Why would he want a clan leader as his slave? Why would he be prepared to pay any price to get her?

      "Well done, Shelim. She will complete the team perfectly. Now I can put my plans into effect. Go and fetch the others."

      Her confusion growing by the minute, Samantha watched the major domo leave the room.

      "I have dreamed for a long time of a special entertainment for my friends and guests. Something that no other has thought of before. You, my slave, will make that dream come true."

      Samantha heard the door open behind her and the sound of bare feet approaching. Then three slave girls, dressed the same as she, entered her field of vision and fell to their knees before El Raschid. Shelim Bey, a wide grin on his face, halted a few steps to one side of his Lord.

      Samantha had had only a fleeting sight of the slaves but it was enough to make her dizzy with surprise and shock. The three slaves, kneeling demurely before El Raschid were none other than her three friends who, as part of her troop, had been captured with her so long ago. Judy, Jacqueline and Stephanie.

      She looked down at her sister clan girls. Their long hair was gathered in pony tails that hung neatly down their backs. Their pale skin, clearly showing through the transparent material bore no signs of having been beaten, yet they all three seemed to be totally submissive in their attitude.

      "You seem surprised," El Raschid said, as he looked at his new slave. "You did not expect to see your friends again? Now that I have got all four of you the training can begin. You will learn and obey and you will be well treated but, be warned, you are still slaves."

      El Raschid turned to his major domo and ordered him. "Take the slaves back to their quarters. They will begin their training tomorrow. Today they may enjoy their reunion."

      The four girls followed Shelim Bey from the room. They were led down a short corridor and through another door. A half naked black giant, with curved sword held across his massive cheat, stood guard outside.

      Samantha's surprise at seeing her three friends again was overshadowed by the sheer opulence that awaited her as she passed through the door. A luxuriously decorated hall, the ceiling supported on thick marble pillars, with many couches and cushions scattered around on which several naked girls reclined. One side of the hall opened out onto a paved colonnaded patio which gave way to bright green lawns and flower beds filled with exotic blooms.

      Shelim Bey, chuckling quietly to himself, turned and left the hall by the door through which they had just entered. Samantha heard a key turn in the lock. She looked quickly round, trying to take in the fabulous sight, when she saw two half naked black men standing to one side.

      As one of these approached the group, Samantha saw her friends kneel. Not wishing to feel the ever present cane that hung from the belt at his waist, Samantha followed suit. Peering sideways at her friends, she noticed that all three bore the marks of an iron on their thighs.