The sound of the metal bolt on our door being drawn was followed by the creaking of the hinges supporting the heavy wooden door. It was the gangmaster, Master Ali. He pointed at me. "Jasmin, you've got an early call. Grab your pan and follow me." He was carrying a thin whippy ratan cane which he used to make his point.

"Master, do you want me as well?" Zena asked.

"Button it, girl..." He gestured at her, then flicked me with the cane. "Get a move on, thrall."

I waited while Ali locked the cell door, then set off with him in the direction of the yard. As we approached the archway, Ali nearly bumped into the head lad, Mohsin. He was obviously on the way to wake up the thralls.

Ali stopped him. "Mohsin, who are you putting with Zena?"

"Hana, Sir. They get on well together."

"I don't want any slacking today. A five percent lead can be fritted away if the pairs aren't right."

Mohsin glanced at me. "I understand, Sir."

"Okay, carry on..."

We had to pause for me to empty my pan and rinse it out under the tap. Then, we were on the move again. The sun was just rising as we emerged into the open.

"Shower quickly, girl." Again, he pointed with the stick. I could tell that he was itching to swipe me with it.

I had to pull the cord with one hand and soap my body with the other. While I was enjoying the feel of the cold water falling on my head, Ali was joined by Malik. The pair of gangmasters stood and chatted while watching me wash my body. The lads agreed on something, then Ali departed, heading for the thrall's cells.

"Enough, thrall. Go and grab a towel," Malik ordered.

I scampered through to the adjacent yard and pulled a towel off the line. I noticed that all the garage doors were open and that four large wagons had been moved forward so they could be checked over in daylight. A fifth, smaller rig was standing at the end. All the light alloy vehicles gleamed impressively, obviously the result of many hours of buffing by the lads who worked in the garage.

Fearing what the young man had on his mind, even the delicious smells radiating out of the canteen's open serving hatch didn't distract my focus on the cane Malik was holding.

"Come over here..." Malik stopped halfway to the mobile canteen, next to a table. He tapped the bench with the cane. "Stand on here and give me the towel." I handed it to him and stepped up. "Turn and put your hands on the table." As I bent forward, I braced myself for more pain. The four welts from the previous evening's caning were still making their presence felt.

"Ugh," I said softly, which was meant to sound like 'sorry'.

"I gave you four last night and I'm giving you four this morning for speaking out of turn. Do you understand why you're being punished, thrall?"

"Ugh," I replied with a nod of my head.

"Legs apart, knees bent and shoulders down." I could see him raising the cane through my legs. I squeezed my eyes shut. Switt! Switt! Switt! Switt!

"Neiiiiiiiii!" I squealed when my buttocks exploded in a ball of fiery pain that sizzled with an almost unbearable burning heat.

The sadistic gangmaster had slashed the cane down on the diagonal, thus crossing the welts he created before I went to bed. I didn't collapse or move my hands, even though I was desperate to try and rub the fiery pain away. Seeing my tears pooling on the table's surface, I wished I could smear some on my sizzling flesh to douse the flames.

"Ugh," I exclaimed softly when Malik started to towel my legs dry.

It was an unexpected move by the young man who had just thrashed my butt. He went up and down my legs while studying my rear end and sex just inches in front of his eyes.

He stopped after drying my bruised butt cheeks. "Squat, push your ass back and rest your head on your arms."

He wanted me in the classic doggie shagging pose, on the bench. The previous evening, he punished me in front of the other thralls, then sent me to my cell. For the second half of the punishment, he had chosen to do it privately, with only the chef and the garage hands as possible witnesses.

I bent my knees and rested my head on my arms, knowing that both of my orifices were perfectly positioned to be speared.

"Urrrr," I sighed softly when I felt the young Arab's knob pressing against my soft entrance.

When he penetrated me, it dawned on me that my body had reacted to the thrashing by ramping up my arousal levels. My quim had become molten and liquified, so the impalement was swift.

"Urrrr," I groaned when my extremity halted his bludgeoning knob.

Having found the range, the young man ensured that he butted his knob against the barrier with every powerful thrust of the fuck. As soon as he was in full swing, he grabbed my hips and rocked my ass back to meet his incoming missile-like cock.

For my part, I remained still outwardly, but churned up inside when his jackhammer-like thrusts triggered a powerful, heart stopping orgasm. Being outside in the fresh air, in a foreign land and knowing that I was about to be secured to the shafts of a wagon, increased the aphrodisiac-like nature of my situation. I didn't want to be a slave, but my body felt as though it was craving the treatment that Malik and my other captors were doling out to me...