While I was sitting in the waiting room and mulling over the examination process, my thoughts turned to the future. Farrah was a clear example of a girl who had talent and was being allowed to better herself. It wasn't clear what her responsibilities were exactly, but she had some status in the male dominated Dubai society. That gave me hope and lifted me out of my depressed state.

I was the last thrall left in the room when Farrah eventually returned. "The doctor will see you now."

I followed her into the surgery and climbed into the chair, whereupon the doctor refitted the clit clamp. I noted that my minder wasn't wearing one when she went through security. In fact, her clitoral meat was visible, so I had high hopes that my clamp was only temporary.

I was pleased to be leaving the doctor's surgery and even more relieved to be wearing the black tunic, even though it didn't quite cover my mons and ass. I carried the burka down the corridor to the registration office, which was a large room, staffed by two Arab men.

Major Fayed was sitting at one officer's desk and remained seated while I had my photograph taken against a wall with height lines painted on it. The rest was bureaucratic paperwork which the Major dealt with while I stood by his chair on one side and Farrah on the other. They were halfway through the details before I realized I was being registered under a different name - Rinah Fayed - as though I was related to the Major.

I couldn't protest or complain, so I had to stand through the question and answer session and silently accept the change. When the officer left the room, the Major lifted his left hand to my ass and gave it a squeeze.

"Rinah, what do you think of your new name?" Another squeeze. I couldn't speak but I could smile and part my legs, so I did both. "Good, girl," he said then slipped a couple of fingers into my slick orifice. "Rinah, you have come through every stage with ninety percent or above. Your master is going to be very pleased."

Having my name changed was the final piece of the puzzle. My body had been changed so that I looked like a thrall. My psyche was being trained to think and act like a thrall; and finally, I had a new thrall identity.

Rinah Fayed was a catchy name. It suited the thrall I had become but I hated it. The officer returned with the completed documents, stamped three times, indicating the process was over.

When we stepped out into the corridor, I expected to be led back to the lift, but the Major set off in the opposite direction. I walked beside Farrah who seemed slightly bemused, but she didn't question the Major.

"I'm turning your collar off," the Major informed me.

We turned a corner into another long, wide corridor. He looked at the doors as we passed them, reading the numbers, then stopped at number 18. He knocked and was called in, so he opened the door; and after putting his hand on my shoulder, steered me inside.

A thrill rose in my chest when I recognized Sheik Salim Husni wearing a grey suit and sitting in a chair by the window. Farrah and I bowed in the appropriate manner and as I pressed the sides of my hands between my breasts, I could feel my heart thumping in my chest.

Beside him on one side sat Rasha, his first wife, and on the other side, Masumi, his third wife. The contrast between the two women couldn't have been starker.

One had jet black hair and was dark skinned, while the other had blonde hair and fair skin. One had been a wealthy heiress before she married Salim and the other had been a lowly thrall like me. But the binding factor was that they were both stunningly beautiful and Salim had chosen them for his wives.

They made me feel inferior and inconsequential. I was but a slave and they were privileged billionaires. However, Masumi was living proof that the unlikely was possible, provided I was prepared to climb the ladder rung by rung. I needed a ladder to climb, and I dared to wish that Salim Husni would provide it.

Salim sat up and lifted his head. "Major, I want to thank you for bringing Rinah and Farrah to see us. Please take a seat while I have a few words with them."

"Thank you, Salim," he replied before kissing, first Masumi on the hand, and then Rasha. He then sat next to the dark-haired beauty.

Seeing the friendly discourse between the Major and Salim encouraged my hopes of a reprieve. I stood, waiting anxiously to find out what was going to happen next.

"Farah, Rinah, are you comfortable in those clothes?"

"No, Master, I'm not," replied the young woman standing beside me.

It was my turn. I knew what response was required. "No, Master. May I take my tunic off?"

"That would please me, greatly." His blue eyes flashed while a wide grin crossed his face.

My task was simple, I just had to lift my black tunic off, whereas Farrah had a jacket, skirt, blouse and finally a pair of white cotton panties to remove. It was the second time I had watched her slip them off and she was extremely deft at prolonging the procedure to maximise the moment. It was a lesson I vowed to learn so I could impress my Master if I got the chance.

We stood, side, by side, while four sets of eyes examined our bodies. They were similar in shape but different in colour. We both bore multicolour bruises on our asses and red stripes across our tits.

"Farrah, tell me what I'm looking at?" Salim demanded.

"Two thralls, Master, who are desperate to serve you."

He turned his dazzling eyes on me. "Rinah, what do I see?"

I put my hands together and extended my arms. "Yes, yes, Master. Farah is right. I want to serve you more than anything in this world."

He put his hand up to throw water on my enthusiasm. "Look at Farrah and tell me what you see."

I turned and examined the beautiful young woman. The tattoos and adornments, in my eyes, added to her attractiveness, possibly because her body was a reflexion of mine. "I see a beautiful young thrall, Master. She is a special person."

Salim turned to Rasha, who spoke for the first time. "Rinah, Farrah is a very special person. She is a member of my staff and has joined Major Fayed this morning to help you through the registration process, which can be quite gruelling for a young thrall. We needed to see how you managed and you came through with an exceptionally high score. The feedback from Sheik Halabi's staff has been satisfactory and Major Fayed has said some positive words about your physical fitness."

There was a pause before Salim turned to Masumi. The stunning blond continued. "Rinah, you never left the Husni estate. The contract I showed you was a loan agreement so you could be trained with the Halabi thralls. That won't change. What will change is the length of your stay with Sheik Halabi. We now think that around two weeks is enough before you come to our palace and join Salim's Harem..."

I couldn't contain myself. I rushed forward and fell on my knees before him, then grabbed his hand and started kissing it. "Thank you, Master. Thank you, Master. I will be your most dedicated thrall... You will never regret choosing me..."

He patted me on the head. "Rinah, up and sit here." He parted his knees and patted his right thigh.

I was crying with joy as I scrambled up and perched my naked ass against his leg. His aura of authority and power almost overwhelmed me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and when his hand rested on the side of my thigh, I identified it as the one I had seen in the examination room.

It felt as though electricity was crossing from his hand to my leg, the contact was that important to me. "Master, I want to be in your harem more than anything..."

He squeezed my leg. "Good. I hope that when I see you in two weeks' time, you are just as enthusiastic."

"I will be, Master. I promise, I will be..."

He pushed me back to my feet. "It is time for you to go back to the Halabi estate. You are forbidden to discuss your future with anyone other than the people in this room, do you understand?"

"I do, Master." I bowed and decided there and then that I wouldn't breathe a word of Salim's plan to anyone.

I couldn't quite believe it was true, but according to Sheik Husni the roadmap for my future was drawn. Two weeks of gruelling work in the Halabi household and then my reward would be a place in the handsome billionaire's Harem. A place in his bed and a place by his side. When that happened, if it happened, then I would be the happiest concubine on the planet...

His Harem: The Sequel- Part One.

7.1. ~ Shattering news.

By the time the house manager, Damien, arrived to announce dinner, the sun was setting beyond the main lawn to the west. The pool surround was gloomy, but the underwater pool lights cast a ghostly blue glow on his grey suited figure. Standing at the side of the pool, Damien announced that dinner would be ready at 18:30. That was the signal for the bathers to head for the steps and begin climbing out.

My Omani friend, Layal, and I had been designated as pool thralls for the afternoon. Apart from fetching drinks and snacks, we were responsible for providing a constant supply of dry towels. It sounded like an easy job, but with the amount of people coming and going, then returning for another dip, we were constantly on the go.

The men often demanded that we dry them, then provide them with sexual relief. Sheik Halabi disliked anyone but him having sex in the sun lounging area, but he turned a blind eye to us providing his male and female guests with oral relief. Even Damien had to be discrete.

The numbers in the pool had dwindled as the afternoon wore on which gave Layal and I a breather. We were ready for when the Halabi family members, their guest and the concubines climbed from the pool. We were holding a towel for each of the four men.

The concubines, who were the first to pass us, made do with the damp towels they had been using all afternoon. The three superior thralls hardly noticed or spoke to us common thralls. They slept and ate with our Master, so we only ever mixed when we were serving meals and attending fitness classes with Major Fayed.

Their lives were the opposite of ours in many ways, but they had to maintain their weight and fitness, or they would be discarded and be demoted to common thrall status. All five of us were naked and had similar body shapes. However, they were wearing gems and gold adornments in their piercings while Layal and I had stainless steel rings in ours.

There were other differences. We common thralls suffered many more punishments due to the nature of our duties. Our bodies bore far more evidence of the thrashings. Mine in particular because of my lighter skin. The concubines were treated leniently, probably because they often accompanied the sheik and had to create a good impression of the Halabi family name.

I watched the trio of concubines giggling when they passed us, just ahead of Sheik Halabi, his guest and Dawid. I was jealous of their higher status in the palace because they had something to look forward to. Their comfortable bed and good food were a complete contrast to our lumpy mattresses and scraps from the dinner table.

My suffering though, was only temporary. I hadn't heard anything for three weeks, but I was expecting a transfer to the Husni estate in the coming days. I couldn't wait to put my linguistic skills to good use and fill the vacancy Salim Husni had for an interpreter.

Three of the men approached and glanced in my direction. We were taught to stand with our feet 18" apart and our arms away from our body, with a towel over each arm. All three had been frolicking about with the concubines in the pool so I wasn't surprised to see the two older men with limp dicks. Dawid however, had a hardon.

Sheik Halabi snatched a towel from my arm, but Sheik Izwah stopped after taking one from Layal. Dawid also collected a towel from my fellow thrall.

"Abdul, these two look out of place among your thralls," Our Master's guest commented. "A runner and a mix..." He grabbed my chin and turned my head. "Is this the reject you were telling me about?"

"Yes, Jaffar, she's the one."

"That was last week. Any idea when the Agent is shifting her?"

"I talked to Darwish yesterday. He recommends the Tiazz show for this thrall."

Sheik Izwah nodded thoughtfully while continuing to examine my face. "There'll certainly be plenty of interest from our dark friends. Any idea when the show kicks off?"

"No. The date's not in the public domain. Darwish is going to give me twenty-four hours' notice. It'll be this week though. That much he did tell me."

"What is she? European? Asian?"

"Her father is Japanese and mother white. English, I think," my Master correctly explained.

Although our collars were unarmed, we were not allowed to talk unless spoken to. Their conversation alarmed me, so I was desperate to ask my Master a question or two. What he was saying didn't tally with what I had been told before. Instead of being moved to the Husni estate, it sounded as though Sheik Halabi was making plans to sell me.

I was promised, at the registration bureau, by Sheik Salim Husni, that after spending two weeks on the Halabi estate, training, I would be transferred to his estate. They had kept me in the dark. I realized that it was naïve of me to believe Salim Husni. What I was hearing was unexpected, shattering news. The treatment I was suffering made me wary of speaking out of turn, so to avoid further punishment I remained silent. Instead, I would wait until I could speak to the Master when he was on his own.

In the three weeks that I had been living on the Halabi estate, my skin had turned a rich manuka honey colour. I was almost as dark as my Omani companion, but her colour was a dull dusky brown which didn't show bruising so easily. Half of the time we were naked while we carried out our duties. We worked every day of the week and at least 12 hours a day.

Our duties varied from laundry to cleaning around the palace. We helped in the kitchen when the chef required some extra hands. I had even spent a day with the garden contractors who normally brought their own staff. Layal warned me that it was going to be a terrible day and she was right.

They cuffed me to one of the trolleys and made me transport soil and shrubs around the gardens. The lads on the crew told me that access to my holes was part of their payment for the week's work. Thankfully, the foreman restricted their activities to their lunchbreak, but he didn't put the same restrictions on himself.

Sheik Izwah released my chin, then dropped his huge hand to my left tit and gave it a squeeze. He hurt me but I remained silent. That was one of the lessons drummed into me during my three weeks stay. He then dropped his hand to my belly and felt my firm muscles.

"I'd say she's ready," he commented.

My Master nodded. "The Major has toned her up nicely..."

"What are her numbers like?"

My Master's eyes narrowed when he looked at me. "They are high. Salim saw to that. Turn around girl and show my guest your assets."

Even though my head was spinning from my Master's comments to his guest, I instantly reacted to his command. In a short space of time - 3 weeks - I had become conditioned to respond without thinking. It was the only way to avoid the bite of the cane. After handing the dry towel I was holding to Layal, I turned and bent forward. After gripping my knees, I spread my feet 18" apart.

I had always thought that I had a pretty cunt and a shapely ass. The appearance of my sex changed when Sheik Husni insisted that I should wear a clitoral clamp. Nazira, his head thrall fitted the first one which looked pretty but hurt like hell. The two inch clamp was gold and encrusted with gemstones.

That one didn't last long. No sooner had I arrived on the Halabi estate, then it was removed and replaced with a plain stainless-steel one. Having my clitoral flesh imprisoned was a real pain. Prior to coming on the journey to Dubai, I was a habitual masturbator. It didn't matter as much as having to wear a shock collar, but I missed the pleasure those secretive rubs provided.

The last time I complained to Damien, about the pain, he threatened to have me trimmed if I moaned again. That shut me up because I knew that he was dead serious. The other reason why my sex had changed in appearance was that it had taken multiple blows during the punishments. Consequently, my lips were puffier, darker and more sensitive. The men intentionally kept it that way so that I and the other thralls obeyed their orders without hesitation.

Clumsy fingers felt the texture of my bruised and raw lips. My dry holes were gaping, but he resisted investigating their secrets. Instead, he gripped my left cheek and gave it a squeeze. "I like the shape of her ass," Sheik Iswah said. "How often does the Major work with your thralls?"

"While this thrall is here, Husni is paying for three sessions a week, so four with the one I pay for."

"Have you noticed any difference in your other thralls?"

"Yes, it's one of the reasons for taking the transit thralls. All my girls benefit. Come on, let's go and get some dinner."

Both sheiks walked off, but Dawid, the head lad, lingered. Slap! "Rinah, come with me... "As I stood up to face him, he turned to glance at the pool where Mohammed was still fooling around with his new thrall. "Layal, stay put." He grabbed my arm. "Come on, Rinah..."

He led me over to the corner of the sunbathing area, stopped by a sun-lounger and handed me the towel. "Dry me girl, then suck my dick while I tell you what I know."

Dawid got special treatment because he was Sheik Izwah's son. He lorded it over everyone. Even Damien trod carefully around him because he didn't want to upset our Master. Not normally sympathetic toward the thralls, I was prepared to do anything to him, just to find out what Sheik Halabi had planned to do with me...

7.2. ~ A clearer picture.

Dawid was proud of his clean shaven body. He was into bodybuilding in a big way and had an ego the size of a soccer pitch. I had to choose my words carefully, otherwise, he would lose interest in me and return to the palace.

"Did you have a good swim, Sir?" I began, having moved sideways and started to dry his back.

"The water was wet and the concubines even wetter, but I've saved some jiz for you."

In my old world, back home in England, I would have rolled my eyes, but I was facing a guy who could punish me for the slightest reason. I had suffered both physically and mentally since arriving in Dubai and wanted to avoid any more pain if I could help it.

"Master, thank you for thinking of me."

He held his arm up while I rubbed the fluffy white towel against his skin. "Rinah..." I hated them changing my name from Gina, but I was getting used to it. "...up until today we have deliberately avoided referring to your transient thrall status..."

I wiped his shoulders, his back, then his solid butt cheeks. I waited until I was facing him before asking him a question. "Is it true, Master, what Sheik Halabi said?"

"Of course it is. Never doubt your Master's word. His estate and his hospitality are the perfect way to facilitate and deal with thralls like you."

"But Sheik Husni told me himself that he wanted me to fill a vacancy among his staff."

"Huh!" He opened his stance when I dropped to my knees to dry his legs. He stared down at me. "Even though you're one of the more intelligent ones, you fell for those flashing blue eyes. Still, unlike some swindlers, Salim Husni is the real deal..."

"Master, I had no reason to suspect anything."

He paused when I dropped the towel and turned my attention to his fine upstanding cock. I used my left hand to gently grip his balls and my right to hold the base of his thick shaft. He waited until I closed my lips around his knob and begun lollypopping it.

"Ever since the attempt on Salim's life, Rasha, his first wife has worn the trousers. In your case, I'm guessing that she targeted you in England, used her husband to draw you into our culture, then arranged for my father to prepare you for your fate. Anything that Salim Husni said to you was to keep you sweet."

Tears welled in my eyes as I began to bob my head on the young man's dick. Dawid had hit the nail on the head, but why me? I wondered. Surely, I was more useful to the Husni's than selling me off at a seedy slave auction... He must have read my thoughts.

"We are never told by the Husni's what the motives are behind moving transient thralls through this estate. However, I suspect that Rasha wants to impress a billionaire client of hers who she doesn't want to be seen with. Possibly Ugandan or Zambian. Someone who's linked to Chinese money. Our Master mentioned Taizz. I know very little about the Yemen slave market there, but it's the perfect location for their buyers to close a deal on someone like you."

He took hold of my bunches and added his strength to speed up the throat fuck. "Uggggggh," I groaned as a slight panic set in, having lost control of my head movement. Surviving the onslaught temporarily took my mind off my predicament.

"Usually, I wouldn't bother to explain anything to... Sweet fuck, that's... Oh yessssssss, fuck yessss!" he exclaimed at the point of no return.

Moments later, I felt pulse after pulse of hot jiz jet down my throat. I cried with relief and unhappiness while the young man's cock exited my throat. He left his knob on my tongue long enough for me to suck the last drops before stepping back.

I wiped my mouth quickly and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Master for telling me what you know. Will I be seeing Sheik Husni before they come to take me away? He seemed keen to have me join his staff." I was trying to keep my voice even despite a panicky sensation rising in my chest.

He clapped his hands. "Rinah, I like you. That's why I told you what's going to happen to you. Now, you've got to accept your status, or the consequences will be ten times worse for you. You can do it the easy way or the hard way. That's up to you. Your attitude in the next day or two will determine whether you leave the estate in a cage or a burka. Now get back to work. Once the towels are in the machine, I want you two to report to the chef."

Naked as the day he was born, the young Arab man turned and strode off toward the rear entrance to the palace. I was dejected, miserable and stunned by what Dawid had told me. I turned to see Layal collecting the towels from the sunbeds not far away. When she spotted me alone, she dumped the towel on the trolly and approached me.

She looked upset. "What did Dawid say, Rinah?"

"Let's get the towels to the washhouse. I'll tell you on the way."

Together we gathered the rest of the wet towels, then grabbed the long handle of the trolley and started pushing it toward the open double wooden gates. Once we were on the path, I went back and closed them before we resumed our journey toward the warehouse which doubled as a washhouse.

Thankfully, the trolley wasn't as heavy as it usually was. Bent at the hips and with our backs parallel to the ground, we were in the posture that Major Fayed often used in our fitness sessions. With my hands fastened to the handle, the fitness instructor timed us over a distance and used an electronic butt plug to hurt us when he thought we were slacking.

I had gotten used to having my peach and sex on display to such a degree, I wasn't thinking about it during the journey. "You heard the conversation, Layal," I began. "I've been tricked and lied to so many times," I said bitterly.

"They treat us like animals. They beat us. They lie to us all the time and they'll say stuff to stop us complaining," Layal said as we turned a corner. We trundled past a tennis court, then when we reached the end, we turned again and approached a large brick building.

"Layal, you hit the nail on the head. I'm so gullible. I still believe that Sheik Husni wants me to work for him."

"Then what's the problem?" We arrived at the double doors which were open.

We stopped. Someone was inside so I lowered my voice. "It was Salim Husni's wife, Rasha, who hired me. She had no intention of letting me work for her husband. Like I said it was all lies..."

I heard footsteps just before Youssef and Shariq emerged from the gloomy interior. "What the fuck are you two cunt lickers doing standing out here, chin wagging?" the former asked.

"They're skiving as usual," Shariq said. "Get those towels in the machine and be quick about it."

"Sorry, Sir. We just paused for a minute cos we didn't want to run you guys over," Layal said in a cheeky tone, knowing it would annoy the lads.

They stood either side of us and slapped are naked asses as we passed. Yousuf's blow hurt because it landed on bruises left by the last thrashing that the chef gave me. I received three whacks for dropping and smashing a plate. It wasn't one of the main service, thank God, otherwise I would have ended up hooded and in the tray.

We pushed the trolley as quickly as we could and parked it in front of the industrial washing machine and drier. The laundry was situated at one end of the general warehouse. It looked as though the lads had just loaded up a trolley to take to the main building.

Beside the washing machine, stood a large shelf unit which was normally filled with white and turquoise towels. On the other side stood the huge tumble dryer. We opened it, folded the dry towels one by one and placed them on the shelves. Then, after filling the tumble dryer from the washing machine, we transferred the wet towels into the empty machine. Finally, we stacked some clean towels on the trolley.

The lads stood with folded arms, talking quietly together, waiting for their opportunity to take advantage of us. I suspected that they were hatching a plan to fool around with us.

"Happy?" Yousef asked when we paused for a moment to count the towels.

"Sir, we have to be getting back to help in the kitchen," I pointed out. "Dinner is being served soon."

"We've got plenty of time. Who wants to be lubricated first?"

We were going to get into trouble, but the lads didn't care. If we argued, they were still going to shaft us. "I'll go first," I volunteered reluctantly. I bent forward, grabbed hold of the trolley handle and opened my stance, whereupon Layal moved in behind me and hunkered down.

"Back door first, this time, girls," Shariq said.

My Omani friend pulled my cheeks apart and pressed her face into the inner slopes of my firm peach. The lads leant over, one either side, to watch Layal's tongue fighting my tight pucker. She won the battle and began to thrust her writhing tongue in and out with a rapidity that sent shivers up my spine. Layal had taught me that anilingus was a great way to prepare for the cunny version.

"You see? These bitches love rimming each other," Yousef said. "Don't forget each other's cunts."

"I don't fancy having my coal chute cleaned out. Doesn't do anything for me," came the response from Shariq.

It was more difficult watching us penetrate each other's quims. I, like Layal, was dry but her circumstances were different from mine. I had been fitted with a two inch clitoral clamp to suppress my arousal levels while she had been trimmed by a previous owner. The effects were the same - dry holes. My friend did her best in the limited time available and gave me some pleasure while aggressively spearing me with her tongue.

Yousef pulled Layal off me. "That will do. Swap over."

Moment's later, I had my nose wedged between Layal's cheeks and my tongue fighting her tight ring of muscle. I too had an audience. The lads were fascinated by the sight of our intimate interaction. I tried to get as much saliva in my friend's holes as I could before they became impatient. I thought I gave Layal as good as she gave me before Shariq gave a tug on one of my bunches.

Once again, Layal and I were standing side by side, gripping the handle with our asses sticking out. Yousef, being the bossier of the two, chose me, but it hardly mattered. Our prep work thankfully saved us from a painful moment. Yousef was able to plunge in on the first thrust, oblivious to the discomfort he was causing.

Shariq caught up with my butt fucker until both lads were thrusting their cocks into our back passages in sync with each other. "Twenty Riyal says I last longer," he said in a confident tone.

"Huh, I'm not betting this time," Yousef replied. It was typical of the stunts the lads pulled. I was grateful they weren't playing target practice with wet towels.

"Uh, uh, uh," we grunted softly while the lads pounded their full bodyweight against our firm peaches.

"That's because you're a loser," Shariq said in an offhand manner.

"Huh, my cock's bigger so I come quicker in tight asses, like this thrall's." Slap! "What do you think Rinah?" Yousef asked.

"You both have splendid cocks, Sir," I replied diplomatically.

Thankfully, he was nearing his explosive moment. "Yes, I thought you'd say that... Fuck, this bitch's back door is tight... Ahhhhh! Fuck..."

Shafiq wasn't far behind. I suspected he was able to control himself more because he always took a few moments longer when they raced against each other. I had to grip the handle tighter, then after a frantic few seconds, Yousef withdrew, ending my ordeal.

Slap! "Time to thank your Master's cock for oiling your back door."

The lads liked us bending with our asses in a reachable position, when there were just the four of us. We assumed what they called the back/front position where Layal and I faced in opposite directions and stood beside each other with our hips and shoulders touching. So, while I sucked and licked Yousef's cock clean, he could play with Layal's sex.

Once my twin slippery holes were within easy reach, Shafiq couldn't resist thrusting his thumb in my anus and two fingers in my quim, while I reluctantly brought Yousef's impressive cock back to life. I gripped his manhood with both hands to steady myself, then went down a few inches, nudging it into my oesophagus. Once my throat was gripping his cock, I began to bob my head.

"How are you doing, Yousef?" Shafiq asked. "This bitch is outperforming herself. Shame to switch..."

"I'm ready, let's get on with it..."

Moments later, Yousef eased his rejuvenated cock from my mouth, moved foursquare behind Layal, then drove his glistening shaft into her succulent quim. "Ahhh," I sighed when Shafiq simultaneously impaled me.

In among all the pain, discomfort and disappointment of my new life in Dubai, vaginal sex provided a modicum of enjoyment. I let myself go, knowing there was a storm waiting for us in the kitchen...

7.3. ~ A torrid time.

In less than a month, the lads and managers on the Halabi estate had thoroughly educated me in every aspect of sexual servitude with a strong flavour of depravity. Their treatment had not only lowered my threshold for shameful behaviour, I felt that I was losing my identity. The girl who boarded the plane to Dubai three weeks earlier had ceased to exist.

A new version had evolved from Gina. My new name, Renah, and my deep tan were a major part of my new persona. Also, my short hair, thrall tattoos, stainless-steel rings through my nipple and pudenda piercings, gold collar and wrist cuffs, all amplified and cemented my transformation into an Arabic slave girl. I wasn't sure if my old friends would recognize me in a crowd.

Losing my individuality caused me to be more accepting of the lad's and manager's heavy demands. In the morning when we lined up for inspection, an onlooker would have seen ten naked young, North African women. We were all different shades of brown and black. One girl, Yara, from Egypt, had a white father. She was pale compared to some of us.

As soon as Yousef and Shafiq were satisfied that we had lapped every trace of our exudation from their upstanding shafts, they left us kneeling on the concrete floor. They had a trolley full of packaged goods from the warehouse shelves to deliver to the back door of the palace.

"Thralls, don't forget to close the doors on your way out. We don't want the place full of rats," Yousef shouted over his shoulder before disappearing into the evening gloominess.

"That's two rats less in here," Layal said as we climbed to our feet.

I wanted to hug her and kiss her cute little face. The poor kid had been treated terribly by her previous owners. It was a sobering fact that her life was far more tragic than mine. I managed to smile at her comment, before we both grabbed the handle of the towel trolley and hauled it backwards so we could manoeuvre it in the right direction.

"I made you smile at least," Layal said once we were on the right path that led back to the pool.

"I'm in a dark place, Lay. I'm fucked. My future looks bleak. And, the chef is going to beat us when we finally turn up."

"I'll explain what happened to him. He might be taking a day off from being a cunt."

"Fat chance..." I couldn't dislodge one thought from my head. "Dawid said that when they come for me, they might put me in a cage. That's what I'm terrified of. I hate confined spaces."

The solar lights hanging from a cable above our heads enabled me to see Layal's sad expression. Finally, she thought of something to say. "Well, somehow you've avoided the tray."

"Only because the estate is short staffed. You're going to have to work harder when I'm gone."

"Oh, the agent usually turns up with a new thrall when he takes one away."

"Does he bring them in a cage?"

Again, she didn't want to dwell on the point. "Usually," she muttered.

The pool area was such a tranquil scene, I imagined for a moment that I had just checked into a five star hotel. That thought was short lived though. After we parked the trolley in its spot, we set off for the kitchen. The thrall's entrance was close to the goods bay which was outside the palace's storage room. The lads were still unloading their trolley which they had pushed up against the raised platform.

We ignored them and pushed open the wooden door and stepped into the lobby. We each took a light blue cotton tunic off the shelf, slipped it on, then pushed open the kitchen door.

A blast of hot, moist air wafted past us, but it was the intense activity that captured our attention. The chef and his three male assistants were busy loading up the trays that needed to be taken through into the dining room. Two thralls, Tamara and Yamina, dressed in their smart yellow tunics were waiting to take trays through.

The chef turned his head to watch us approach him. "Layal, clear the tops. Rinah, you're washing." He turned back to the fish dish he had prepared. "Khalid, help me over here..."

I went straight to the sink and after putting the plug in, ran the hot water tap. Layal instantly started to stack the dirty dishes and pans on the countertop beside the sink. We were working in a nightmare scenario where the chef screamed and shouted at the lads, then the thralls when they turned up for more trays.

Our job was non-stop for an hour, while the chef prepared six courses for the guests. Each one was fraught with preparation problems which the chef magnified out of all proportion. The plates weren't clean enough, the sauce was too runny, the rice wasn't distributed evenly. On and on he complained and screamed at the lads, who's only utterances were, 'sorry chef''.

I became brain dead to the sound of his voice every time I helped in the kitchen. I was often on my hands and knees cleaning the floor while they prepared food and had to suffer being kicked when I got in the way. I was consumed by my own fate and kept my head down, scraping food into one of two huge bowls from cooking pans and returned plates. One pan was for edible scraps and the other for inedible foodstuff like bones or gristle. There was plenty of edible waste for us thralls to eventually eat.

However, we had to wait before we were given our bowls of scraps, until the Master, his family and guests had retired to the main lounge. Sometimes that took two hours. I had to resist eating scraps as I scraped them off the plates. There were four sets of eyes in the kitchen keen to spot me or Layal break the chef's rules. To the burly Arab, dressed in white overalls, we thralls were subhuman. He treated us like dogs.

Over an hour had passed when the remnants of the sweets and deserts started to arrive and stack up beside the sinks. By that time, both Layal and I were washing and two of the thralls who had disappointed the chef, were drying. Taslima and Safina looked shell-shocked, having been the butt of one of the chef's angry tirades after a complaint came back from the dining room.

They were told to discard their smart yellow tulle tunics and don the standard light blue tops while they helped with the dishes. I was nearing the end of my task when one of the thralls entered the kitchen.

Jamila approached the chef who was sharpening a carving knife. "Chef, the Master would like one more thrall in the gentleman's smoking room as soon as possible. The Master is going to play a game he calls 'thrall roulette'."

"All right, Jamila. I know the game." He turned to look at me and the other three thralls washing and drying the dishes. "Rinah, go toilet, clean your holes, put a dress tunic on and comb your hair out. Hurry, the Master wants you in the smoking room!"

"Yes, Sir," I replied.

I didn't bother to dry my hands. I hurried back to the lobby, then into the toilet. I was embarrassed by the dried jiz on the inside of my thighs. The chef must have spotted it and finally had to tell me to remove it. Once I was naked, I washed my nether region, removed the hair ties and combed my hair out. I was just slipping the yellow tunic on when the bathroom door opened.

"Well, well," Yousef crowed. "What have we got here?"

"Yousef, the chef will cut your balls off if you delay me. The Master wants me in the smoking room." I said firmly. As I pushed between the pair, Yousef pinched my arm. "Owww, that fucking hurt."

"We'll catch up with you later, bitch," Shariq said.

I ignored the kick from a sandaled foot and returned to the kitchen where the chef was preparing to punish Layal, Tasmina and Safina. They were draped over stools with their naked asses and sex high and exposed. The lads had gathered around to watch the girls being chastised.

The chef lifted the tawse and waved it at me. "You'll get yours later, girl. Now get going."

The first shrieks assaulted my sensibilities as I hurried up the stairs to the second floor where the Gentleman's smoking room was situated. Putting aside the dread I felt at the prospect of returning to the kitchen when I was dismissed, I wondered what my duties were going to be when I arrived.

The huge wooden door to the room was ajar. I pushed it open far enough to slip into the room. I had been in the room several times, cleaning the huge Persian rug that sat in the middle of the ceramic tile floor. After a night when the men smoked their smelly cigars and cigarettes, we were tasked with shampooing the rug clean. It made a change to be entering the room without cleaning equipment in my hands.

About eight huge cushions had been placed around a magnificent low, circular wooden table, which was about twelve feet in diameter. The table had a central section that was about six feet in diameter. Layal reckoned that it turned so that a selection of food could be offered to the guests without them having to move.

Four huge screens were hanging high above the table, presumably so that they could watch TV while they ate. During my cleaning visits I also noticed at least a dozen sophisticated cameras situated high around the room. If they were there to make sure we worked hard, then they did their job!

"Thrall!" Sheik Halabi, who was standing at the bar with his friends, called out, then gestured to me to go to him.

I counted seven more men, all of whom I had seen at the pool during the afternoon but couldn't remember their names. All the men were wearing white thawb and Keffiyeh headdresses and looked to be in a jovial, relaxed mood. As I approached, the seven guests formed an arc so they could cast their eye over me.

I stopped, raised my hands and bowed. "Master..."

"Rinah, remove your tunic and show my guests your assets," my Master commanded.

I was well versed with the ritual. The men weren't seeing me for the first time, but it was probably the first time that they noticed me. Tamara and Yamina, along with the concubines and Mohamed's new thrall, Zahra, were in the pool for the men's enjoyment. Layal and I performed oral on some of the men, but they weren't interested in our faces. Some of them covered our heads with a towel while they reclined and closed their eyes.

Having stood with my hands behind my head for a few seconds, I turned, leant forward. In that position, I was revealing every tiny detail of my firm, shapely cheeks and my deep divide, all the way down to my pucker and puffy cunt lips.

"A good choice for the first round, Abdul, she has a nice arse," one of the men commented.

"Rinah, up. Turn around." He waited until I was facing him. "We are going to play a game called 'thrall roulette'."

"Have you ever played roulette, girl?" one of the other Arab men asked.

"The thrall probably hasn't got a clue. Safir," another one said.

I nodded. "I know the game, Sir. The croupier throws a ball around a circle of numbers, then spins the wheel."

"Very good, I'm impressed..."

"Hummm," the others agreed and raised their glasses to their lips.

I was thirsty and hungry, but I guessed that it would be at least an hour before I was sent back to the kitchen.

Sheik Halabi put his hand on my butt cheeks. "Well, Rinah, you are going to be the ball. I'll explain the rules in a minute. Go and sit down over there." He pointed at a line of office chairs, in the corner, by a window. "The other thralls will be back in a minute. Dawid and Tamara will get you ready." He propelled me forward with his hand.

I didn't like the sound of their 'game', but my first impression of his 'thrall roulette' game was that it probably didn't have too much to do with depraved acts.

I couldn't have been any more mistaken...

7.4. ~ Spin and feel.

I didn't have long to wait. Dawid, carrying a box, entered the room, followed immediately by five thralls, Tamara, Zahra, Yamina, Jamila and Yara. They walked down the side of the room toward me while the men continued chatting and drinking at the bar. The girls were wearing pretty gauze tunics in a variety of colours. Their outfits weren't as fancy as what the concubines wore, but I was jealous that they had been allowed to wear nice clothes.

They had been given slippers but not underwear. After I stood up and bowed, Dawid placed the box on the rug by my feet. "Thralls, go and mingle with your master and his guests," he commanded.

Tamara stayed while the other four headed for the bar where the men were waiting to greet them. My attention was drawn to the box by my feet. When Dawid opened it, I gasped when I saw what it contained. It was full of enormous, odd shaped dildoes, hoods, collars and other items.

"Um, what's all that bondage gear for?" I asked Naively.

The pretty Saudi thrall picked one out and showed it to me. The dildo was at least 15" long and had a stout shaft that was thicker than any cock that had penetrated me. The surface was veined to a greater degree than a normal cock, but it was slightly flexible like the real thing.

The one she chose had the number five imprinted on the realistically shaped crown. At the other end, the base had a huge suction cap attached to it, the type where the air could be levered out.

"Rinah, I'm going to fasten eight of these onto the surface around the outside of the table. One for each gentleman in the room."

"You... you don't expect..."

"Silence, thrall," Dawid commanded. "Listen and keep quiet. We will explain everything."

I Studied his serious face and then Tamara's to try and judge the level of discomfort I was about to experience. I had to wait while Tamara removed all eight enormous dildos and placed them on the table. That left a couple of items in the box which were even more alarming than the dildos.

The first was a black leather hood similar to the one that Jamila wore when she spent a spell in the tray. The other item was a stainless-steel butt plug that had a long pointy end.

"I'm going to insert the butt plug first, Rinah, then before I fit the hood, I'll explain the game to you."

I was appalled. "Please tell me now, Sir."

"Silence. Bend over."

I reluctantly turned and assumed the position. Dawid wasn't aware that I had anal sex a couple of hours earlier, but probably guessed when the thick end of the plug breached my defences without too much bother. I groaned and winced until the oval jewelled end was nestled deep in my ass valley.

He slapped my ass. "Up."

When I straightened, he was holding the leather hood. "Rinah, the hood has speakers inside so that I can issue you with instructions from my handset." He fished a controller out of his pocket to show me.

I gawked at the hood. "It hasn't got any eye holes, Sir."

"That's the point of the game. You'll be blind so the cock you choose will be random. Our Master and his guests will be betting on which one you'll choose. A lot of money is going to change hands tonight and your actions will determine who the winners and losers will be. Now stand still while I fit the hood." He opened the back zip and pulled it apart. "Give me five minutes to connect the blue tooth. All you need to do is nod and shake your head to reply."

In fact, there was a projecting tongue/tube of leather that fitted into my mouth which effectively gagged me as the black leather closed around my face. The zip pulled down from the top. Dawid tugged it slowly so that I would gradually get used to having my head squeezed by the strong, unresisting leather.

"Ugggh," I groaned softly, then almost panicked when I realized that I was not only blind, but I couldn't hear a thing.

Dawid patted my shoulder, then guided me back to the seat I occupied earlier, or was it the same one? I wasn't sure. Staring into a soundless, black void was an unnerving experience and I hated it, especially as I was naked and defenceless in a room full of men.

The wait was awful but eventually I heard a welcome crackle, then Dawid's voice. "Rinah, Tamara is going to guide you into the centre of the table..."

I jumped when she clasped my arm. I stood up and went where she guided me. A hand gripped the back of my calf and lifted my foot. She followed me up onto the table and into the centre. Her insistent hands guided me down onto my knees and then further until I was hunkered down. Then, I was on my own. I had no idea as to the direction I was facing but at least I felt safe where I was.

"Rinah," Dawid started. "The gentlemen are getting into position and placing their bets. It's all electronic, so the table is clear, but we must wait for the link to go live on the dark web."

I was appalled to learn that what I was about to do was going to be viewed across the middle East, possibly the world. The one saving grace was that my identity was hidden by the hood. It was still a desperately awful event/ competition to make me participate in. The seconds and minutes ticked by. If my situation wasn't so desperate, I would have tried to doze off.

'Rinah!' I jumped and clasped my hands together to steady my nerves. 'I'm about to spin the centre of the table. You will end up facing in one direction. When the centre stops, you must crawl forward and clasp two phalluses. Think carefully, choose one to impale yourself on, then turn and do the deed. A buzzer will sound when the phallus's crown reaches your extremity. A timer will start and record the intensity of your orgasm. All those watching will be betting on your performance'.

The last part of his instructions worried me deeply. But my concerns went to the back burner when the centre section of the table began to turn. I hunkered down as the motor that was driving it increased the speed until I began to feel dizzy. Just when I thought that I couldn't take any more, I sensed that the motor had cut out and the circular section was freewheeling. It gradually began to slow down.

I imagined the men in the room, and the ones on the web, were anxiously watching my naked ass crack and hoping that it didn't stop, pointing at their number! The platform took an eternity to stop, giving me time to recover from the dizzy spell caused by the spin. I knew the dildos were just two or three feet ahead of where I stood on all fours.

I tentatively edged forward onto the static part of the table and reached out. Nothing! Then the back of my hand hit one of the monsters. Having got my bearings, I was able to stretch my arms out and locate a second and take a grip of both silicone dildoes. They were huge and much longer than my vagina, but being on my hands and knees meant I would have found it difficult to devour it if I had that much capacity.

'Rinah, wait for a minute. I'll give you the signal to choose one, then get on with it'. My hands were not big enough to grip the huge phalluses properly, but I held on in the knowledge that a small fortune would change hands when I made my mind up. 'Alright, Rinah, everyone is waiting with bated breath for your decision'. Dawid urged me on.

I decided to go with my left hand. I wasn't sure why, but it seemed like the better option. I released the other dildo and manoeuvred my feet so that my inside ankle bones were nudging the dildo, then reached between my legs to guide it into my honeypot which had been prepped a little while earlier by the lads in the warehouse.

However, the helmet shaped end and the sheer girth of the monster dick almost became wedged by the time my quim had gobbled only a couple of inches. "Ugggh," I groaned softly as I pushed, trying to get the monster cock to drill deeper and deeper.

Placing my hands on the table for purchase, I began to gently rock back and forth. That worked and I made some headway. Inch by juicy inch, my body adjusted as though it was welcoming the intruder. It had gone so deep, I felt I was running out of dick. Bzzzzzz! I didn't hear the sound, but I felt it through the fake cock.

I didn't know what to expect, so when the anal plug began to vibrate and the dildo started to move, I was shocked. My instinct was to rise up off the phallus, but I found that I was stuck fast. The only explanation was that the intruders were magnetic! I was at their mercy as the plug's vibrations and the dildo's cranked up.

"Ughhhhhhhh," I groaned as my body began to react to the intense and insistent stimulation.

It wasn't long before an orgasm began to build to a thrilling crescendo. Wave after wave of intense sensations began to career around my fragile nervous system like an out of control tornado tearing up the countryside. My head, my chest, my nether region, were all consumed in one mass orgy of forbidden, unrelenting carnal pleasure.

I moaned and swayed from side to side while the thrusting cock continued to pound against the roof of my cervix. Just when I thought that my brain was going to burst, the tempo began to drop. The dildo calmed and stilled while the vibrations emanating from the plug died. I gave a tug and discovered that I could finally slide my quim off the monster dick.

The moment I was free, I collapsed onto the surface of the table, exhausted and drained of energy...

7.5. ~ Lewd performance.

I assumed that it was Dawid who bent down and lifted me onto my feet. He helped me off the edge of the table, then sat me down on a chair. My suspicions were confirmed when he unzipped the hood and eased it off my head.

"Ahhhhh," I gasped the moment my sight was returned to me.

I glanced around the room to see that the 8 men were seated on the large cushions, studying notebook computers in their laps. Three of the four thralls were standing between two men, presumably to provide them with drinks and pleasure.

I noticed that Yara was having her ass felt while the owner of the hand stared up at one of the screens over the table. A little further around the table Jamila was cleaning one of the dildos free of my juices. The screens showed information on the betting odds of eight runners for the next 'race'. It was the most bizarre game I had ever witnessed or competed in.

"Rinah, on your feet..." Dawid helped me up. "Put your tunic on, then sit down and take a breather."

I was limp and could still feel the remnants of the massive orgasm, triggered by the twin intruders, so my reactions were slow. Having had the stuffing knocked out of me, I weakly complied.

"Sir, you're not going to make me do that again, are you?"

"Would you rather spend a day in the tray?"

I shook my head slowly. "No, Sir, I wouldn't." The non-removal of the butt plug ominously suggested that I was going to have to play the game again.

Tamara entered the room with Safina and brought her over to where I was sitting. Her eyes were puffy and her mood desultory. She was told to remove her tunic, by Dawid, then the rules of the 'thrall roulette' game were explained to her. I felt for the youngster as the head lad pulled a second leather hood onto her head and zipped it down. Because there were two, I wondered if the next game involved both of us.

Once the butt plug was fitted, Tamara guided Safina onto the table and into the centre. While crawling on, I noticed some fresh, ugly bruising on Safina's shapely peach, no doubt the result of several lashes from the chef's tawse. I suddenly wasn't so keen to report back to the surly man whose favourite sport was verbally and physically brutalizing thralls.

Dawid left me with Tamara, sitting side by side while he took up a position behind Sheik Halabi. There was a delay for the game to go live, then the picture on the screen changed to a long view of the complete table. It kept switching to various views of Safina's hunched up figure, then returning to the long view.

The numbers on the dildos weren't in sequence but could clearly be seen on the screen.

"This is an awful game, Tam," I said to my quiet but smiling companion.

She was a popular thrall and seemed to be happy with her station. It was easy to see why the men slightly favoured her over the rest of us common thralls. The Saudi youngster had a healthy, shapely figure, more voluptuous than athletic. Both her tits and ass were larger than mine and because she had a slim waist, her hourglass figure was more accentuated.

"Rinah, this is one of the milder games our Master gets involved with. Stop complaining or Dawid will put you in the tray."

The tray was used as an extreme threat by everybody to shut us thralls up. Because I had befriended Layal, the other thralls became reticent toward me. Not all the time, but I wasn't included in their clique. Layal was sweet and funny, but she was marked as a runner and considered to be unreliable by everyone on the estate bar me.

"The tray? I'll be gone in a day or two so it's not really a threat."

"Yes, I heard the rumour that the Major is finished with you."

"What did you hear?"

"I heard someone mention Taizz..."

"Yes, I think that's where they plan to send me. Do you know what it's like there?"

"I know it's in Yemen. That's a horrible country..."

She fell silent while Dawid issued Safina with her final instructions. Everyone could hear his words. They even came up as subtitles on the screen. His speech was almost identical to the one he gave me. I cringed inwardly when the centre section started to spin. The cameras followed her progress, then when the section started to slow, the men, who had been silently watching, suddenly became animated.

"Eight!" one sheik shouted out and was then quickly followed by several more shouting the number they had chosen.

I was stunned to see grown men on their feet screaming at the slowly rotating figure as if they could determine the direction her hooded head would point when she stopped. When she did stop, she was pointing at the numbers five and seven.

Some of the sheiks were euphoric and others, naturally disappointed. The latter group returned to their cushions while the three hopeful ones gathered at the edge to watch Safina crawl forward and grasp both dildos. Satisfied she had chosen two numbers, they returned to their cushions to start a rapid bout of betting. The losers were attempting to claw some money back, while the potential winners wanted to consolidate their winnings.

"It's like tossing a coin," I said to Tamara.

"Um, no. I heard Dawid say that anyone betting on the number Safina rejects, gets their money back. All the other men lost their money though."

"That makes sense..."

The moment of reckoning arrived. Safina chose the left hand dildo which was number five, then performed a turn and promptly impaled herself on the prong. I could hardly believe how easily her quim devoured about 12" of the stout, upright silicone dirigible.

Two sheiks were absolutely ecstatic, hugging each other and patting each other's backs, then they returned to their cushions to watch the live dildo action.

In fact, they were mainly interested in the intensity of Safina's orgasm. A large blue number was rising through the 60% range. It crept up to 75.5%, then started to drop.

"How on earth can they measure an orgasm?" I said in an incredulous tone.

Tamara picked up the hood I was wearing and showed me pads on the inside surface. "These sensitive electrodes press against your temples and measure your reaction. They use the hoods for lots of their perverted games."

It was all beginning to make sense. "So, I've got to do this all again?"

"Rinah, I haven't got a fucking clue what will happen next. Incidentally, the intensity of your orgasm reached seventy-eight percent. You made our Master very happy, and a couple of his friends."

"Is seventy-eight percent high?"

"You bet. Most of the other sheik's bets were close after they saw you struggle with the size of the dildo."

"You're not kidding!"

"Your quim obviously hasn't been stretched too many times."

"So?"

"It's a well-known fact that the tighter we are, the higher the reaction to being shafted..."

Tamara got to her feet and went to help Safina climb off the low table, then brought her back to the chairs. The naked thrall appeared to have coped with her ordeal more proficiently than I did. Dawid arrived in time to remove the hood, while Tamara waited to hand the youngster her tunic. The poor kid's face was red and sweaty while her hands were noticeably trembling.

Dawid clapped his hands. "You three can go to the bar and ask for a glass of orange drink. The Master is very pleased after the first round of games. I want you back here in ten minutes."

"Thank you, Sir," we all chorused, then hurried across the room, behind the seated sheiks who were more interested in their notebooks and the data on the screens above the table.

Shariq was standing behind the bar, talking to Yamina who was holding a small tray with two glasses on it. I guessed she was just about to deliver the glasses of whisky.

"Oh, here come the performers..." He slapped his hand onto the small counter. "What's it to be? Gin, whisky, Bacardi?" he guffawed at us.

"Shariq, Dawid says we can have orange juice," Tamara said.

"Oh, the stars of the show are allowed to drink at the bar!" he said sarcastically.

"The Master just won a lot of money," Tamara pointed out. "He's a very happy man."

Shariq poured orange into three decent size glasses and slid them in front of each one of us. "Make the most of it. In my experience, the scales will balance out as the evening goes on."

I gratefully drank the pure orange carefully, so as to enjoy every last drop. I got the impression that we were experiencing a rare treat in the Halabi household. Common thralls drinking at the bar was obviously an unusual event. Another thrall, Jamila, arrived carrying a tray with two empty glasses on it.

"Where's my orange juice?" she asked.

"Later, if you're lucky," the cocky lad replied. "Do your Masters want the same drinks?"

Before Shariq had sorted out two fresh drinks for Jamila, we finished our orange juice, so left them to get on with it and headed back to the corner of the room to find out what fate awaited us...

7.6. ~ Entertaining the sheiks.

Dawid was sitting, waiting for us when we arrived. "Tamara, the Master wants these two fitted with leg binders, mitts and tails. Help them get on the table, then I want them to trot around the edge. Safina, you know how to excite our guests..."

She nodded. "Yes, Sir. I know."

"Good. After our guests and our internet viewers have had a good look at the pair, we'll fit their hoods."

"What game are we playing next, Sir?" Tamara asked.

"We are going to play the 'raffle thrall' game, so once the thralls are on the table, remove two dildoes and spread the other six out."

"Yes, Sir," Tamara responded. She delved into the box and pulled out a bunch of leg binders. She handed them out to Safina and me. "Remove your tunics, put these on, then I'll do your mitts and tails."

During the three weeks, I had assumed the 'Puppy' position several times, so I knew exactly what was about to happen to us. One evening, Sheik Halabi entertained a guest who brought a Puppy-boy. Four of us were kitted out with binders, mitts and tails, then paraded in front of the Puppy-boy so he could select a mate for the evening.

Thankfully, he chose Jamila, so I avoided a torrid time on that occasion. It was my first experience of an even deeper world of depravity that I had no desire to be part of. Unfortunately, I had lost all control of my destiny which seemed to be heading in that direction!

Naked, we dropped to our hands and knees and started to pull the broad rubber bands up our folded legs. Dawid had left Tamara in charge while he went off to chat with our Master, so we three were able to speak freely.

"Do you know what's involved in the raffle game?" I asked the other two.

"It's bound to be some shitty way of choosing numbers," Safina said bitterly.

"Do you know, Tam?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I know what a raffle is. Like Saf says. These men are obsessed with betting on numbers or buying tickets. With only six dildos, there won't be many double digit numbers to choose from."

We had both finished pinning our folded legs together with the binders. She moved behind to do our tails. Choosing me first, she pushed the end of the tail, which had a metal jack, into the end of the dildo. After a click, I sported a short, bushy upright black tail!

Once Safina's was fitted, we sat back on our heels and waited for Tamara to fit the mittens. I saw where she was coming from with the figures. "Mmm..." I did a quick calculation. "Six numbers... If you can use the numbers twice that would produce thirty-six tickets. I wonder what each ticket costs."

"There are two of us, so I don't think we can fuck the same number," Safina pointed out.

"She's right, Rinah. There'll only be thirty tickets."

"That means each man around the table will have about four each," I mused, "I wonder what the tickets cost."

"Thousands of Riyal," Safina said. "They live in a different world to us."

She was on a downer, having been thrashed and then made to play the sheik's stupid games. However, she couldn't have been as disappointed with her life as I was.

"We had better get a move on," Tamara said. "We don't want to change our Master's mood."

We had to crawl between two sheiks who were sitting on their cushions, before Tam could help us up onto the surface. The height of the table was about 18", so as I took up an 'all-fours' stance, I realized that I was at the perfect height for any of the men to fuck me from behind.

I waited for Safina to lead the way, around the outside of the table. She stopped at the first dildo, turned through 90 degrees and started to rub her succulent entrance on the tip of the dildo. It was the perfect height and provided the nearest sheik and the internet viewers with lewd, explicit entertainment.

I was just about to crawl forward when Tamara put her hand on my shoulder. "Rinah, they want dirty action. Follow Safina's lead and make our Master's guests happy."

My eyes were glued to the bold thrall's actions just a few feet away from me. After steering her orifice to dock with the dildo's enormous domed shaped crown, Safina started to fuck herself on the top four or five inches.

"Wait until Safina moves on, then show our Master that all the Major's training wasn't wasted. Oh, don't forget to clean Safina's juices off the dildo before you shag yourself on it."

The Major not only worked on my fitness but also educated me in how to serve my Master, whoever it was. I already had a submissive nature, but his teachings showed me that I was capable of accepting the most extreme domination and brutal treatment. The chef's behaviour was a good example. He handed out more severe punishments than anyone, so in comparison everyone else's treatment became more tolerable.

Safina spent a good minute slowly shafting herself until she had driven down as far as she could go, then slowly eased her quim off the huge prong.

Tamara slapped my ass. "Go warm up the audience and your tight little cunt. Having your muscles stretched will help you when you are hooded."

"Oh, my god, Tam, I don't think I can do this."

"Don't be stupid. Get on with it. I'm going to remove two from behind you. Six cocks and you'll be back where you started."

The first cock was only a few feet away. It glistened in the sparkling halogen lights. I took a deep breath and crawled forward, then started to lick Safina's creamy juices from the realistically veined monstrosity, from the side. I was grateful that I only had to lick ten inches, but I had to manoeuvre myself around to get to all sides.

I noticed that the two nearest sheiks watched me intently, then I had to turn my back on them and begin rubbing my labia up and down the slippery shaft. I couldn't bend my rear legs, so I had to rock my ass back and forth. The dildoes were slightly bent and pointing inward, to the centre of the table, so when I raised my ass to the maximum height, the dildo's knob teased me by pressing against my juicy entrance.

From what Tamara said, I guessed that the next game involved me once again impaling myself on a dildo to provide the sheiks with a particular number. Simultaneously, I was going to provide the audience with some grossly lewd entertainment while readying my quim for what lay ahead.

I gasped while attempting my first tentative thrust. It felt as though my quim eagerly sucked the blunt knob inside me, so I stilled for a moment. My entrance had obviously become lax, after my earlier exertions. I began to rock back and forth and found the experience completely different. Of course, the first game only involved one penetration then I was static while the dildo did the work.

My movement measured about three of four inches but that was enough to reignite some of the vivid sensations that I enjoyed the first time. The stout cock was still difficult to fuck smoothly but I managed, without too much difficulty, to nudge it a little deeper with each backward movement of my body.

"Oh, fuck," I whispered when I felt the urge to thrust faster.

Looking sideways though, I saw that Safina had moved on. Fearing that I was too slow, I reluctantly eased off the fake cock and crawled the short distance to the next one. I found myself hurrying to clean the dildo so that I had more time shagging it. I don't know what I was thinking but as I backed up and started to tease my entrance with the new knob, I had to discipline myself not to immediately have my quim devour it.

After leaving the second one, I began to resent having to clean the dildos when Safina wasn't having to. It meant that each time I penetrated myself, I didn't have enough time to reach a meaningful climax. However, even though I wasn't fully satisfied, I received a lot of encouragement from the watching sheiks.

Live porn right in front of their eyes was what they wanted and that's what Safina and I were providing. The spectacle was made even more entertaining by my enforced crawling stance and wagging, bushy black tail.

By the time I reached the sixth and final dildo, Safina was going around the table cleaning my cunt cream off the phalluses with a damp cloth. Tamara had finished repositioning the dildos and Dawid was waiting for me to finish. That meant that once again, I was stymied by having to perform a rapid fuck on the final dildo.

Dawid helped me down from the table. "Sit and wait for Safina," he commanded as soon as we were back to the servant's corner. It didn't take Safina long to finish her task and then join me sitting on the floor by the head lad's feet. "You two have pleased our Master," he informed us. "Put a good performance in on the last leg and he'll have the chef prepare you a proper supper."

Normally, in my old life, it would have been preposterous to offer me a decent meal for performing such a lewd and depraved act. But, ever since the chef returned, I had for weeks, been eating scraps out of bowls placed on the kitchen floor. The thought of getting a decent evening meal genuinely focused my mind...

7.7 ~ The second game.

Safina and I sat staring up a Dawid, waiting to hear what we had to do to earn a decent supper.

"We will do our best, Sir," Safina said with a tired voice.

"I hope we pick his numbers, Sir," I added.

"We'll see. You are both performing in this raffle game because we need a number from both of you. You'll be crouching side by side on the centre section. When it stops turning, Safina, move forward, claim a dildo and make sure your feet are off the turning section when you impale yourself on the phallus. You must wait for my instructions. The centre will spin again. When it stops, Rinah, find a phallus and claim it with your vagina. Then, you must wait."

"Wait for what, Sir?" Safina asked.

"Listen girl. As soon as you two squat on dildos, the audience will know which two numbers are on the winning ticket, but not the order. As soon as a rapid session of betting is over, I will give you the signal to start fucking your dildo. The first one to reach the seventy percent mark will dictate the first number. Again, I will give you the signal to stop. There are going to be two tickets for two pots of money, so after a ten minute rest, you'll be going again." He picked up one of the hoods. "This is yours, Rinah."

Twice! I wasn't sure if that was humanly possible. I remained silent while he fitted the hood. Being plunged into a totally black, silent world was a real challenge for me. Not only did I dislike confined spaces, but I was also uncomfortable in the dark. I always slept with the light on in the hall at home in England.

I was totally oblivious to what was happening around me. When Tamara put a hand on my butt, I jumped. She put pressure on my bare cheek, so I crawled forward, hoping I wasn't going to bash into anything. She moved up my body and guided me to the edge of the table, then helped me up onto it.

As I moved forward, I felt the narrow gap where the central section joined the outer ring, then let Tamara position me. A minute later, she guided Safina so that she was crouching next to me. I was comforted by her skin pressing against mine. Safina was hardened to her thrall existence, but I sensed that she was as uncomfortable as I was.

I pictured the scene in my head. Eight men, dressed in white thawb, sitting on their cushions, waiting for two naked thralls to start spinning in the centre of the table. They were hoping that we would choose their number. Would they get animated again as the centre section slowed? They were men with too much money in their pockets and too much time on their hands.

'Girls!' We both jumped. 'The table is about to start turning', came the advice from Dawid.

We crouched down as the rotating section picked up speed. It turned quite fast, but it didn't last long. However, the freewheeling part seemed to go on for ages until it finally stilled. Safina promptly moved forward, leaving me alone in my silent, black world. It obviously took a few minutes for her to sort herself out, then the centre section started to turn again.

I wondered if I might bump into her when I crawled off, but when the section finally stopped spinning, I was able to crawl forward and find myself a silicone cock to impale myself on. It was easier each time I attempted the tough feat because I was not only juicer, but my muscles were also laxer. I still wasn't able to devour the fake cock with one long thrust, but three shorter ones took care of it.

'Good girls. Remain still until I tell you to start shagging'. Dawid made us wait a few minutes. 'Girls, it's over to you. Go!'.

The previous session of visiting all six dildos had left me frustrated, so I went hell for leather, bobbing my ass so that my quim slipped up and down on the deeply veined surface at a breakneck speed. There was no encouragement from outside voices. I was on my own in my own little world, shagging the life out of a huge fake cock stuck to the surface of the table.

My orgasm arrived quickly and built to a crescendo like the first one I experienced on the table. However, there was something special about doing the work myself. I groaned and swayed my way through the heart stopping, mind boggling, nerve jangling, orgasm. I don't know what I was expecting, but Dawid remained silent. So, in the absence of instruction, I tried to raise the tempo of my thrusts.

I was experiencing incredible sensations while I used the dildo like a piston in the barrel of an engine. However, I wasn't a locomotive and it wasn't long before I ran out of steam. I tried to slam my ass down harder, but my efforts were becoming erratic and the orgasm unpleasant. Dawid must have noticed that I was struggling.

'Stop, girls and return to the centre.', came his command.

That was easier said than done while being wedged on a huge quim-busting prong. Wearily, I slowly lifted my ass and left the source of my pleasure trip behind. A hand on my shoulder guided me back to the centre, then left the two of us crouching side by side once again.

'Girls, relax. Your performance has determined the order of the numbers on both tickets so all you need to do on the second run is to choose a cock and fully impale yourself on it. This time, Rinah will go first. Wait for my order'.

There was another lengthy wait before he warned us the game was beginning. Once the central section had stopped spinning, I crawled forward, with my right hand searching for a huge dildo to fuck. "Ugh!" I grunted when my hand lighted on a real cock.

It suddenly dawned on me what the men were doing. Then, I remembered that Dawid used the word 'cock' instead of dildo. So, I had chosen a lucky sheik's cock to slide onto. It was long, but thankfully, it was nowhere near as stout as the fixed phalluses I had been shagging. I started to turn and almost immediately felt a pair of hands steer me in the right direction, then spear my salivating quim. Having anchored his dick in me, he stilled, presumably to wait for Safina to choose a cock!

I had to wait for what seemed like an interminable amount of time while skewered on the sheik's shaft. However, he didn't remain still. With his hands gripping my hips, he gently rocked me back and forth maybe half an inch at a time. I could feel his rock-hard cock twitching within me, obviously desperate to complete the fuck.

Then, without warning, he lengthened his stroke and picked up speed. My orgasm was pleasant but didn't reach the previous heights, probably because I was exhausted. On the other hand, the man probably achieved his aim when he spurted jet after jet of hot jiz into the depths of my bruised cervix.

'Girls wait where you are until Tamara comes to collect you', came Dawid's command.

It was a huge relief to return to the corner of the room and have the hood removed. I was sitting back on my heels when Tamara pulled the leather restraint off my face. She dropped it in the box, then removed Safina's. I had to wait while she removed Safina's mitts before she returned her attention to me.

"Rinah, the Master has decided to leave you in the Puppy-girl restraints," she informed me.

"Why? That's not fair," I blurted out.

"Dawid will explain when he returns with your collar controller."

"Please, Tamara, tell me what's going on."

Beside me, Safina had removed her leg binders and gotten to her feet. "Tell her what's going on, Tam. It's only fair cos she did a good job this evening."

We both waited to hear if Tam knew any more about my situation. She put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. "The agent will be here in the morning. He's bringing two new thralls and taking you and Layal to the shipping office. That's all I know. If you tell Dawid that I told you, I'll be in deep shit.

Tears started to roll down my face as a wave of bitter disappointment gripped my muddled thoughts. "Did you know earlier?"

"Rinah, I only know because I keep my ears open. Stop crying. You found out earlier you were leaving the estate so at least you now know what's happening to you.".

"You said Layal was going too..."

Dawid entered the room at the far end. I wasn't sure if I should say something. I was bitterly disappointed by the way I had been treated, not only by the lads and managers, but by some of the thralls as well. I felt certain that everyone knew what was happening to me before the game session in the smoking room. They probably even knew what the games involved. It no longer mattered though because they were coming to get me in the morning.

"Ah, good..." Dawid muttered when he arrived. He hunkered down in front of me and dropped a pair of knee pads on the floor. He immediately spotted tears rolling down my face. "So, Tamara has explained that you're leaving tomorrow?"

"Yes, Sir," I muttered.

"I'm going to switch your collar to canine sounds so that you can partially communicate during your journey."

"Is there no chance..."

He held his hand up. "Rinah, save it for the agent who will be in charge of you during your journey." He lifted the controller and pressed a button on it. "Your collar is live now. Any attempt to speak will be translated into canine sounds."

"Ruuuuf," I whined softly, trying to say, 'It's not fair'.

"Tamara fit the knee pads on Rinah." He didn't seem happy with the helpful thrall.

He had a chain leash wrapped around the other hand which he allowed to unroll, then clipped the dangling end to the back of my collar. He had to wait for Tam to slip the bands down, buckle the knee pads in place, then pull the bands back on. Having to wear knee pads was an ominous sign, the consequences of which didn't bear thinking about.

He jerked the leash impatiently. "Come, I'll take you downstairs myself."

As I trotted away from the other two thralls, I glanced over my shoulder at them. I didn't see a trace of pity in their faces, only relief it wasn't them! I had always been an outsider and it was just a matter of time, in their minds, before I was moved on to another place, far from the Halabi estate.

Dawid led me to the rickety old lift which the staff rarely used, then took me down to the ground floor. I assumed he was taking me to the thrall accommodation when he led me along a corridor that headed in that direction, but he turned into a short passageway that led to a side entrance.

It was late and dark. I hadn't had an evening meal, so I became even more disgruntled once I was gambolling along the gravel path, beside the palace. It suddenly dawned on me where we were going. There was an old wooden structure built on the back of the thrall accommodation that looked to be disused.

When I asked Layal what they kept in it, she said the building had four isolation cells that were used for punishment purposes. I thought no more about it, until that moment, just before I spotted it when we turned a corner. The window in the door glimmered with a flickering light, suggesting it had been readied to house me.

It was an inglorious end to my stay on the Halabi estate and a terrible sign for the future. The heavy wooden door opened without the need to unlock it. However, once we were inside, I saw that the four doors on the left all had locks and grills in the doors. The mini prison really was a throwback to the nineteenth century.

Windows on the right side of the passageway let light in during the day but they had hung an oil lamp at the midway point to illuminate the cell doors during the night. The smell of the burning oil was rank but that didn't seem to bother the head lad.

Dawid pulled a bolt on the door of the first cell and pulled it open. Some light filtered into the cell from a grill high on the far wall. I remembered seeing the grills on the other side of the wall, in the thrall accommodation.

There was enough light for me to see the curled up figure of Layal on one end of a thin, plastic coated mattress. Otherwise, the cell was empty, bar bowls of food and water. There was also a bucket in another corner. The stone floor was filthy and the bare wooden walls were strung with cobwebs.

Dawid reached down and unclipped the leash. He slapped my ass. "In you go, girl. Layal is leaving with you tomorrow, so you've got some company for the night. You won't see the new girls when they arrive, and they won't see you. It's best that way. Your supper and water are in the bowls. I'll try and rustle up some breakfast before you go."

I was too shocked to look around as he backed out of the cell. The dreadful sound of the door closing and bolt sliding into place sent shivers up my spine. It was without doubt the blackest day of my life. Any hope I had of escaping from my terrible predicament had just disappeared in a puff of smoke...

The End of Part Seven.

Sample of Part Eight

Chapter 8.1 ~ A dark day.

Thanks to my friend Layal, I managed to get some sleep during the terrible night I spent in the isolation cell. We could hardly see each other, but just like having Safina's presence on the turning table, Layal's warm body was the companionship I desperately needed during that final night on the estate. She had been prepared in an identical manner to me, with the exception of her collar which hadn't been activated.

I was bitterly disappointed that I couldn't tell the young thrall how much I was going to miss her if we were parted during our journey. The food that had been left for me, in a stainless-steel dish, was at least a proper meal, as had been promised during the earlier game session. Layal told me that the chef had prepared it and she carried it to the cell to make sure I received a decent meal.

She wasn't so lucky, for she still had to eat scraps, some of which were still in her bowl. I offered her some of my meal, but the Saudi youngster refused to take my food. In the event, I was so hungry, I scoffed every last morsel of the meal.

I was hoping that Layal had some information about our destination, but she had no knowledge of what they were planning to do with us. After I had eaten, and we were cuddled up together on the plastic covered mattress, she opened up to me.

"I think my luck has run out, Rinah. This time, I'm probably destined for the salt mines or a slave market in Central Africa."

"Ruuuuu." I tried to sound sympathetic.

"You heard the Master's guest's comments when we were handing out the towels. They have less respect for me than they have for their pets. I last about six weeks on an estate before the comments get to my Masters. They eventually think that I'm making their staff look inferior, no matter how hard I work."

She bore running 'R' tattoos to signify that she had tried to escape from a previous owner. They inked one on her neck and one on each of her inner thighs, two inches below her sex. It was a horrible thing to do to an attractive young woman who had so much to offer. I fell in love with her bubbly character and wished that we were friends back in England where we would have had a great time.

Being able to cuddle Layal in such appalling conditions got me through the night. Thankfully, when the sound of the outside door opening woke us, I felt refreshed and alert. I pushed myself up, off the mattress and stood on all fours, in the centre of the cell, on the grimy floor.

"How are you feeling, Rinah?" Layal asked. She struggled up into a sitting position. "I bet that's Dawid. He'll want to have one last dig at me before I leave."

I was so frustrated that I couldn't respond to her. I crawled forward and was pleased when she let me kiss her. "Ruuuu," I said. It was my way of saying 'I love you'.

"I won't forget you either. You're the only true friend I've had, Rinah, since I got caught trying to escape."

When I heard the cell door's bolt being drawn, I turned to see who had come to collect us. I was surprised to see the muscular figure of Major Fayed standing in the doorframe. Despite it being cool and just after sunrise, the Major was only wearing a pair of shorts and trainers.

"Major," Layal exclaimed. "We were expecting the Agent. Dawid said he was bringing two new thralls and we are leaving the estate."

"Yes, I've just had a chat with him. He's at the main entrance sorting out the delivery. I want you two outside quickly. Have you used the bucket?"

I shook my head. "Ruff, ruff."

The Major pulled a controller out of his pocket. "Dawid gave me this instead of handing it straight to the agent. He pointed the controller at me. "Rinah, your collar is disarmed."

"Thank you, Major," I said enthusiastically to amplify my gratitude.

"Okay. Now, use the bucket, then lap each other's cunts so you are clean and juicy. Hurry, then come outside."

He clearly didn't want to enter the filthy cell and I didn't blame him. We both assumed that he wanted us juicy, so that he could spear us one after the other. That was going to be his not unexpected parting gift to us. We took it in turns to pee in the bucket, tell each other that we would be friends forever, then performed quick bouts of cunny licking on each other.

I was in a better mood when we crawled out onto the gravel path. The Major was standing by a holdall waiting for us.

"Sit, so I can take your mitts off. You can do the rest,"

After removing all the Puppy-girl restraints, I was relieved to be back on my feet, in the open gravel yard. Both Layal and I stretched while the Major studied our naked bodies. Knowing that he was an ex-army fitness instructor, eased my embarrassment during our training sessions. In fact, I had become completely au fait with being naked in his company.

He glanced at his watch. "Run on the spot and I'll put you in the picture."

Keen to know what was happening, we began jogging, making sure we lifted our knees high to satisfy the Major's tough standards. Both Layal and I looked like we had been slaves all our lives. During the first week that I was living on the Halabi estate, they cut my hair short, then tattooed me with my thrall registration number - UG7942 - on my upper arms and just above my mons. A small capital 'T' was tattooed just above the number, but not the Halabi crest.

I learnt that the 'T' signified that I had been registered as a transient thrall, but I didn't really understand the implication of the term. Layal bore three tiny crests tattooed above her number which showed that she had three previous owners. In fact, she claimed that she had three more owners but didn't stay on their estates long enough to be registered.

Ordinarily, I would never accept that someone owned me, but after nearly a month in the UAE thrall system, it had become a painful reality both mentally and physically. We were both grimy from sleeping on the filthy mattress. Our hair was ruffled and our bodies bruised from countless blows, administered daily to out rear ends, legs and tits.

While we jogged on the spot the Stainless-steel rings hanging from our nipple and pudendal piercings flipped up and down in time with our movement. The Major walked around us several times, probably looking for the effects that his training had on our bodies. In fact, three weeks of strenuous exercise had made me a lot fitter than I had ever been.

My young Saudi friend had bright eyes and lovely, sensual lips which interested the men until they saw her 'R' tattoos. We were the same height and build, but she had slightly smaller tits than me. The Major had improved our fitness and toughened our bodies. His job was to improve our sale value which he didn't try to hide from us.

Finally, he was ready to explain what was happening to us. "You two are going to the same destination in Yemen..." My heart sank on that news, but I was pleased that Layal and I were going to travel together. "The monthly market in Taizz is a huge event, so you'll probably get split up when you arrive."

I shook my head and put my hands up in a praying gesture. Layal looked glum.

"Girls, you're in the system and will attract completely different buyers. You'll be put through a series of tests when you arrive at your destination. I have done my best to get you into a high grade, the rest will be up to you. Because you are both nineteen, they may put you in the same lot, at the same location. My advice is to behave yourselves and hope for the best..." He bent down and removed two plain beige tunics from his bag. "Here put these on. They belong to the agent."

The Major knew that I was 23 and not 19, which was on my thrall registration. Knocking four years off my age, I guessed, made me more valuable.

"Thank you for these and your advice, Major," I said.

"I told Karim that you have been well-behaved while living on this estate and that your registration classifications are misleading." A white van appeared, backing up the narrow track behind us. "Ah, Karim is here. You can stop jogging and take a breather."

A stranger dressed in a worn beige suit approached after getting out of the van's driver's seat. We both raised our hands and bowed at the man who I guessed was about to play a large part in our futures.

"This is where I say goodbye," the Major said, then handed the remote to the man.

After the pair had a quiet chat together, Major Fayed picked up his bag and walked off in the direction of the main entrance. I was going to miss working with the tough but fair trainer. I felt I should have said more after he had picked up his bag, but the chance was gone and I had other, more important things on my mind...

A terrible chapter of my life was closing but I feared that an even worse one was about to begin...

The End of the Sample.

I hope you enjoyed Part Seven of this series.

Please look out for Part 8, the second book

of a brand new continuation of Gina/Rinah's story.

Below is a list of my other books. Thanks. Amelia.

This book has been published by Stark Books

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Making a Pony-girl 3 (The Finale)

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