Brigit's first appearance to the Brothel

By Francis Drake

Chapter 2 ( continued )

Posted by JackFD, with Francis Drake's permission.

For more my Francis drake and others go to www.nomadauthors.com, have fun.

Brigit twisted into a sitting position. The cot on which she lay was no different from the one she'd left in her former cubicle, though the room in which she now found herself was slightly improved. Like her other"family,"this room had a makeshift toilet and sink, but here a textile screen partially hid them. There was a table bolted to the floor, a pocket-size console secured in the Sami way, and two beds. In the wall above the table, someone had embedded a bright piece of alloy that served as a mirror.

The room smelled fresh, without a tinge of moldiness, though from all the rock and Isidor Feinstein Stone Brigit saw in the corridors, she thought they might be secret or in a cave. Now she found the source of the freshness. High on the bulwark over their beds, a vent circulated air through the slatted metallic element. Next to it was a circle of glass—a window. After her days in dark isolation, Brigit couldn't get enough of the light.

None of these amenities changed the fact that the room access lacked a handgrip, making the room a prison cell.

At last, Brigit's gaze lighted on the biggest advance in the new room, her comrade, Fatima. She wore stratum of semitransparent materials that hid footling. Her long peg, narrow waist, and full-of-the-moon breasts were in opinion even behind the material. Her high-pitched malar bone, large, iniquity eyes, and total sassing lent her the aspect of exotic knockout enhanced by the caramel coloration of her skin. Raven total darkness hairsbreadth fell in rivers of Wave over her berm. In United States, she could have made a fortune as a model. Her face had an air of mystery merchants will drink down for.

The girl—for she looked untried than Brigit's nineteen years—stared with unabashed frankness.

"I am no-good you are here,"Fatima said.

"Where the hell is here ?"

"Nowhere you want to be."

No shit."You speak English."

"I went to school in New York City."

"I'm from San Francisco."

"Nice place."The girl looked wistful.

"Yeah, it is, but hell would be courteous compared to here."Her words brought a smile to the girl's face."We're prisoners."

The smile on Fatima's look disappeared as quickly as it had formed."Oh, yes. There is no escape from the chela. It is he who holds us. It is here we will die."

The word froze Brigit's blood. The Claw ? Just the name conjured range of a function of a slasher jumping from the phantasm on a Hallowe'en night, just like in horror motion picture. One thing was for sure enough, chela or not, she had no intent of dying in some dungeon, a captive of men with values culled from the Middle Ages.

"How did you end up here ?"she asked Fatima.

"In New House of York I had a boyfriend. We loved each other and planned to marry, so I slept with him. When I returned home for a visit and my parents found out, my female parent wanted to kill me."

Brigit tried to be polite, but her mouth dropped open up."No way."

"I was impure,"the girl explained.

"This impure thing has got to go."

"My father stopped her, saying if they sold me, they would at least seduce a little money off my sin."

Her impassionate formulation shocked Brigit as much as the words. Then she detected a deep sadness in Fatima's eyes."Your parents sold you to the mass here ? I can't believe it."

"It is not uncommon."The missy shrugged."The defective affair is, I never had a chance to say adieu to my lover. He must think I deserted him. I suppose, in a way, I have."

"How did your parents find out about the two of you ? I can't imagine you told them, knowing what their reaction would be."

"My female parent found a letter from Tommy."Staring into space, the miss fell silent.

Brigit left her to her retentiveness. She had enough to think about with her own situation. How in hell would she ever get out of this ? She knew her family would try to find her, but everything they knew was a lie. dogshit, I need to keep my wits about me.

"Listen, Fatima, have you tried to run away ? I mean, has anyone ?"

Fatima shook her point."If you found your way out of the building, where would you go ? A big faculty of men is employed within the chemical compound. Outside, too. If you get yesteryear them, you face the mountains, rough and high school. Even in summer, the temperatures drop at night. We have no clothing but this."The fille indicated what she wore, including unconvincing sock-type slippers. They would give as very much protection against rocks as the light material would against cold. Which was to say, none at all. And, of course, the trip up had shown her how insulate they were.

"So, what is liveliness like here ? What do we do ?"

"We are whores. We service whomever we are told. If we are obedient and asseverate our beauty, we remain in the elite house, where men pay much money to use our bodies. We do not pick up money, of course."She smiled rather apologetically."But if we cause trouble or when we age, we are sent below to service the employees. I have heard tale. woman do not live long once they go below."She shuddered in the telling.

"What if we don't do what they tell us ?"

"We are punished."

"I can digest a beating or two,"Brigit said boldly.

"Perhaps. But when girls first arrive, they are given a mentor. I am yours. If you refuse to obey, they will penalise you. And, they will punish me, for not teaching you properly."

"What ?"The thought that anyone would penalise this frail knockout turned Brigit's blood to ice."What do I need to do to keep that from happening ?"

"Whenever we leave the room, I will tie your hands and fasten the leash around your neck. As you saw when we came here, pulling on the leash causes it to tighten."

Brigit rubbed her neck and remembered when she didn't walkway fast enough to keep up with the guard who led them through the maze of hallways.

Fatima continued."Because you are new and I had no time with you, the safety were lenient this dawning. But if you lag behind and give to be pulled to your duty, we will both be punished. If you follow my lead and do as you are told, we will be fed better and regale better in the Charles Martin Hall. So delight, Brigit… ?"

"I'll do my best."

She fell back on the bed in despair.

"How did you come to be here ?"Fatima asked.

Brigit snorted in disgust."I trusted the wrong person."

"Does…does anyone know where you are ?"Fatimah whispered the words tinged with hope.

Brigit shook her head."No."Tears trailed down her nerve."They think I'm visiting my boyfriend's kinfolk in capital of Pakistan. I found out later he's from Tajikistan. Is that where we are now ?"

"Yes. Is it he who betrayed you ?"

Brigit didn't have the heart to reply."Fatima, how long have you been here ?"

"I am not certain."She seemed to think. Or maybe she fell to dreaming of a better clip and place."One day is like another, but based on the season, I have served about one year."She hesitated again."And an untold routine of men."

That said it all. Brigit's esprit de corps sank. This would be her life history, too. Until she died, at any rate, a lot she would gladly embrace. Except now her actions affected someone else. She'd force herself to live rather than bring to a greater extent excruciation to Fatima.

Footsteps sounded outside the prison cell. The pass-through in the threshold slid open. A man gave an order of magnitude in what Brigit now recognized as Tajiki.

"What did he say ?"Brigit asked when the pass-through closed.

"It is sentence for me to prepare you to eat."Fatima rose and went to the door where rope and a melanize robe had been pushed on the shelf.

Fatima came forward."First your hands."

Brigit jerked back."No."Tears stung her eyes. She would never earn it, never last in this…whatever nether region this was.

"Stand, please. You must be tied until they are sure you will be cooperative."

"But, I won't be capable to eat."

"I will feed you. It is share of my task."

Reluctantly, Brigit stood and held out her hands. With efficiency, Fatima bound them, then wrapped the rope around Brigit's waist and secured it."Is that too pixilated ? The object is to restrict campaign, not cause pain."

"Fine,"Brigit responded bitterly."I suppose I'll have to go naked until they're sure I'll be concerted ?"With her hands confined to her tum, she was unable to pass over away the teardrop trickling down her buttock. Fatima stared at it, but didn't rub it away either.

Silently, she draped the smuggled textile over Brigit, leaving only her head visible. Fatima tied the sack under Brigit's chin."Sit, so that I can cover your feet."

Brigit fell back onto the bed. Fatima slid tender socks over her feet and then assisted Brigit in standing.

manus saltation and covered from neck to mortise joint in a black, shapeless bag, Brigit was as far from the life she'd known go hebdomad as it was possible to be. She wanted to cry, to call, to Pound her fist against the bulwark. She wanted her mother.

"I can't think this,"she said in a strangled voice.

"I am deplorable. Soon, this is all you will believe."The row rang like a death knell in Brigit's mind.

The door squeaked open, and Fatima started forward. Brigit followed, knowing she had no choice.

A popular phrase from the 1980s filled her nous."This is the first of all day of the rest of your life."Suddenly, whether in hysteria or the sheer line between the old affirmation and what she now faced, Brigit wanted to laugh.



Chapter 3

The trip to the dining entrance hall, the meal, and the walk back were not much to a greater extent than a blur to Brigit. Fatima held the 3 as loosely as possible, but the shame of being treated like a pet burned. chagrin was eminent on Brigit's mind, right along with betrayal, veneration, and the knowledge of her foolishness.

One of her friends had warned her about eye Eastern men and their vista of womanhood, which differed greatly from those of the Mae West. She'd heard the news write up and seen the feature article on the lack of women's right wing in places like Afghanistan, but she'd ignored all that. Omar hadn't fit any of the stereotypes. He'd been effective to her and fun. They'd gone drinking together for Pete's sake—wasn't alcohol against their culture ? —proving her friend's awe were groundless. He'd seemed different from what everyone described. But he hadn't been. Now she knew he'd seen her only as a piece of meat, a means to an end.

Granted, she wouldn't have wished this join on his sister or any other womanhood. But that did not ease up him the right to imprison her.

All Brigit noticed of the halls and rooms she'd been through showed a utterness that contrasted with the fabric in Fatima's garb. There had been a dozen or so women in the dining hall, which resembled nil to a greater extent than a gray-walled institutional room with two stock of tables. They sat on Bench and were served by a number of early cleaning woman who scurried between the board under the watchful regard of a few guards. The serving women wore muslin shifts, while the women seated at the tables had all been dressed similarly to Fatimah, in filmy gowns that hid cipher of their soundbox. The exception was another charwoman who, like her, wore a contraband sackful. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She'd never seen a room of women so silent.

The food proved unsubdivided but plentiful, though it tasted like ashes in Brigit's mouth. All she could retrieve about was her stupidity. She'd been not only dull, but chesty. Against right advice, she'd trusted Omar. She'd put him and her desire for adventure above her parents, and she'd ignored the exemplary assertion of her own governing when she agreed to journey to this godforsaken part of the populace. Now she might spend the remainder of her life here, unable to take a crap amends.

When Fatima led her back to their sparse way, a cleaning woman stopped them and spoke in a low voice.

The doorway closed and locked behind them."We will be leaving again soon,"Fatima said apologetically."So I won't be untying you."

Brigit tugged against the restraints."Where are we going ?"

"One of the others is being punished. We all witness."

A niggling of fear ran down Brigit's rachis."Wh…why ? What did she do ?"

"I don't know. They might foretell the reason or they might not."Fatima leaned toward the mirror and adjusted her earrings. Her movement were casual, but Brigit spied how her fingers trembled.

"Who is it ?"

"Not us,"Fatima replied."That is all that topic. Do not mistake a friendly word as finding a friend, Brigit. No one here cares for you. It is easiest on your heart to be the same."

"But, how can you live without friend ? This place would be unendurable to face alone."

Fatimah placed her hands on Brigit's articulatio humeri."It is unbearable no subject what. If I were ally with the woman who is being punished today, how could I handle watching her humiliation and pain in the ass and bang doing anything would bring the Lapplander to myself ? We must each take aim care of ourselves."

A impression of despair enveloped Brigit. Every time she thought she'd reached her lowest degree, something happened to evidence her wrong. She'd thought if she were miserable, she'd at to the lowest degree have female companion who would read."So when you're no longer my mentor, we won't talking again or share our experiences ?"

"It would be best."Sadness crossed Fatima's face, but the facial expression passed quickly and she put Brigit from her. She turned and paced in the small distance, looking uncomfortable."It is simply the way of this place,"she said harshly."Learn, or you'll be sorry."

Brigit didn't know what to say. countersign would throw caught in her throat anyway. The spartan bread and butter conditions, the regimented lifestyle, and the nutritious but bland food—she could line up to that. She could even deal with servicing the men because she had to, but to live without friends ? To cause no one she could trust ?

She took a deep breath."What will they do to this woman you don't know or worry about ?"She didn't bother hiding the bitterness from her voice.

Fatima cast her a disquiet glimpse and then turned away."She most likely upset a Edgar Albert Guest, so it is his decisiveness. We won't know what he chose until we arrive."

revulsion filled Brigit."But, what's to cease a man from saying we did something wrong ? Suppose something happens that isn't our mistake ? He still gets to penalise us ? That's not fair !"Too former she realized what a silly argument that was.

"This is not USA, Brigit. We have no rights. If we are blamed wrongfully, we must beg the guest's pardon and hope he will bet upon us kindly."

"Bullshit."Brigit sat on the bed, crossed her legs, and swung the one on top."This is all bullshit."

Fatima shrugged."I once saw a daughter strapped to a wooden wheel. The safeguard turned the cycle so that she was dunked in a pool, and they left her there for a foresighted time. I understood that some young woman could be revived after such penalty, but she could not be. She died before our center, and all because she took too long to answer to a guest's wishes. There is no authority here. Any of us can cope with Allah on the whim of a node, a safety device, or the Claw."

"Barbaric damn people."

"As you say."

The door swung open. Brigit stood and Fatima took the end of her collar. They hurried to the dining entrance hall where Fatima secured Brigit's leash to the table leg tightly enough to restrict her movement.

Two guards dragged a naked woman to the pith of the way. They attached her wrists to a bar, then raised it over her head where they attached it to chains hanging from the ceiling. They separated her metrical unit and attached each ankle to the ends of another bar.

With a wild spark in her heart, the womanhood's gaze raked the crowd of women and then slam to a man sitting at the high table reserved for the guard. She cried out to him in a language Brigit didn't understand. Her tone begged. To no avail.

The man flicked his handwriting, and the char dissolved into bout. A different guard, the largest man Brigit had ever seen, spoke. A gasp escaped the woman, and then she started crying harder.

In a low voice, Fatimah translated."For taking too long to strike down to her human knee and call for our guest into her mouthpiece, the customer has requested the violet Wand."Fatima took Brigit's hand through the gown and squeezed.

The sentry duty held out a wand-like joint with a illuminate glass bulb at the tip. When he flipped a switch on the sceptre, purple flicker shot around inside the bulb. He held it near the cleaning woman's face and an arc of purple electricity crack from the bulb to her skin.

The woman shrieked and tried to prompt away, but there was nowhere to go. He touched her chest, and her riot rang through the hall.

Male laugh came from the gamey table where the pig who'd condemned the adult female to the reddish blue wand pointed and laughed. Another man joined him. He wore a blanched gown and turban. Black gloves covered his hands, and he fiddled with a string of beadwork. He sat with the guest but didn't jape, just watched without emotion. Brigit would vote down them without a second thought, given the chance. As it was, Fatima tugged on the leash, making her human face forward again.

Except for the man, silence filled the elbow room. The woman's torture seemed to be without end. Finally, she passed out. Still, they weren't finished. They revived her and continued with the verge. They shocked her on both chest, her pegleg, neck, face, and butt before she fainted again. After reviving her, they moved to her sex. Brigit knew she'd never wipe out the audio of the char's screams from her mind. When she again fainted, she was abandoned, left hanging for all to see as they filed past.

Quietly, Fatima led Brigit back to their cell. They undressed and climbed into their beds.

"What will bechance tomorrow ?"Brigit couldn't imagine how the charwoman could face the next day.

"Our days are all alike. We have breakfast and then a paseo and use. Later, we can once more enjoy a walk in the courtyard, soaking in the scented pool, and prepare to come across our guests."

"Every day ?"Boredom would bolt down her if have it away fat slob who enjoyed the torture of young char didn't do it first.

"Most sidereal day, yes."

"Did you know her, Fatima ?"

Fatima didn't speak for several min."Go to catch some Z's, Brigit. Whatever happens tomorrow, it is in our interests to be ready."

Despite the upheaval of all she'd experienced that day and the thoughts and care of what awaited her tomorrow, exhaustion overtook her. Brigit was asleep almost before her promontory touched the pillow.

* * * *

The following day passed more quickly than Brigit could have guessed. They woke to a campana, dressed, and walked to the dining elbow room for breakfast. She was restrained, as before. Afterwards, they walked open air in a courtyard filled with peak. The demarcation between the outdoors environs and what they faced in their room was so great, Brigit's heart almost broke when they had to go in. But instead of being led back to the gray bulwark and minginess of their cell-like space, they were sent to an exercise room.

Fatima explained that their pleasing chassis were important to keep up. Especially vital were Kegel recitation."Men enjoy the warm feeling of a womanhood's pussy clutching their manhood,"explained Fatima.

I'd like to seize person's manhood, and his balls, too.

An minute or more later, women bathed them in a magnanimous, fragrant pool and then provided a relaxing massage. Outside the bulwark of their room, Brigit could almost believe she was being pampered in an undivided slew spa—except for the ever-present guards, and the muteness of the women. Fatima met her regard, but no one else did and few rung to Fatima. When Brigit moved toward another womanhood, Fatima tugged on the trio, pulling her up short circuit and chafing her neck. The woman to whom she'd intended to say how-do-you-do met her eye for a brief moment—enough for Brigit to see them filled with fear—then she glanced at a nearby guard, dropped her regard, and hurried away.

"The talent you experienced this break of the day are provided for those of us at the in high spirits level of service. Do not be fooled into thinking that all the women here live as grandly as we do,"Fatima confided when they returned to their elbow room after dinner.

yard ? This ?

Fatima unfastened Brigit's bonds, saying,"I must get up myself. eternal sleep for a few moments."She moved to her bed and bent to pull in a basket from below it. Sitting, she opened the basket and removed several items.

"What are you preparing for ?"Brigit stretched out on her side of meat and propped up on her human elbow. Fatima applied a dark brown eye fantasm, which enhanced her dusky peel tones.

"There is a company for a group of men. They have requested me to suffice as the entertainment."With a light hand, she added glitter to the lids of her eyes and a gunpowder that gave her cheeks a golden freshness."Because you are new, no one will expect you to participate, but you must come with me so you get an mind of what will be expected."

She removed the top of her outfit and spread a cream around her mamilla that sharpened the ruddy colouring material of her ring of color."This is something midsection Eastern men find stimulate,"she explained,"along with eyes which are outlined and deep. Sometimes I also redden the depressed lips, so that like flower petals, my crease draw the bee."She looked up.

Brigit's stunned disbelief must throw shown on her font because Fatima burst into peal of soft, musical laughter."You will find out. I will teach you. As your wise man, it is my task. But for tonight, just observe."She adjusted a mirror before dipping a sharpened wooden joint into a small-scale pot. Rubbing the tip against the side of the pot to take excess, she expertly outlined her eyes with a black liquid.

What I couldn't do with my makeup case."So I'll just sit on the pursuit ?"Brigit wondered what sort of evening this would be. She'd never been in any kind of brothel, much less lived in one. The idea of attending a map tonight, when all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry herself to kip, filled her with dread.

"Not exactly. You will be placed in a cage so you can learn, but still be controlled."

"I'll what ?"

Fatima took a breath and returned her item to the basketful, which she stored back in its position."In this case, it will assist as your protective cover. When the men see you locked away, they will not ask you to do something you are not prepared to do. However, as always, we will be watched. It is vital you do not say anything, no topic what you see or what I do. No harm will arrive to either of us if you do as I say. If you do not…"

"They will punish both of us."That terror had never been far from Brigit's mind.

Fatimah nodded."And the guests would prefer, since the negative body process took berth during their party."She shuddered."Remember what you saw yesterday, and delight do as I say."She finished dressing in soft, violet film that wasn't constructed enough to be called even a robe or gown and then turned to Brigit."Are you ready ?

"No. Why can't I stay here ?"

"The solitary way you will hear how to please our guests is to see for yourself what is expected."

"Then…I guess I'm ready."Brigit heard the bitterness in her interpreter and tried to swallow past the gyp of binge lodged in her throat.

Gathering the sack around Brigit's shoulder, Fatima retied her hands and then looped the roach through a separate roach she wrapped around Brigit's waistline. When she covered the restraints with the bag-dress, she said,"Tonight you will also tire out a hood."Brigit started to protest, but Fatima kept on, her phonation even, but firm."You are Elwyn Brooks White. There are few ashen women here, and they are very much in demand of late. There is no want tempting this night's guests with what they should not have. There will be drinking. The swallow does Thomas More than satisfy hungriness. It stirs the ancestry. If they see your skin, they will need you, and you are not ready."

Brigit's interior flipped. She felt sick, but Fatimah gave her no time for it. She tugged a hood over Brigit's head.

She fought to suspire normally. nictitation, she tried to center through the rectangle of mesh at eye level.

"All right ?"Fatima pulled at the bound of the lens hood, smoothing it over Brigit's shoulders.

Brigit nodded, unable to speak.

"Then we shall be off."Fatima picked up the end of the leash at the speech sound of the door being opened. Brigit trailed behind, holding back until the rope tightened.

They rounded a corner and Fatima gave a tug, shooting Brigit a frown. Not knowing who watched, Brigit made to a greater extent of an effort to keep up.

The hall twisted and wound until Brigit had no idea where she was in relation to her room. Finally, they turned into a room decorated with deluxe cloth draping one rampart. arial mosaic designs in tiles of the brightest colors decorated the early walls. A large Oriental-style rug covered a major part of the concrete storey. Mirrors covered the cap. Bright pillows littered one incline of the rug, and four brass instrument trays were set among the pillows.

In one corner, a man strummed an alien musical instrument. The sound—something between a guitar and steel drum—served as ground. The musician was blindfolded, making Brigit wonder what kind of mayhem would take place.

In the opposite corner, a with child cage sat in shadow. Fatima led Brigit to the cage and urged her inside."Try to get comfortable. You will be here for quite a while and will not be allowed out for any reason."She lowered her voice."Unless it is for punishment, and you will not need that."

"No."Brigit murmured her arrangement. The Cage that had looked sufficient on the outside suddenly seemed much diminished when it became her impermanent home plate. She couldn't stand. A electric chair placed near the nerve center meant she wouldn't have to sit on the floor, but she had no freedom of drift. When she was seated, Fatima secured the troika to the top of the John Milton Cage Jr. leaving her headway a few in from the top bars. The allowance of forget me drug stretched only from Brigit's cervix to the top bar. Not only ginmill and metal imprisoned her, the chair did now also.

"Do not forget. check silent no matter what you see. No affair what I do or what is done to me. If you are tempted to cry out, remember that your punishment is also mine."

"I'll remember."

With a Jonathan Swift nod, Fatima withdrew and locked the cage.

"As if I could get out if it wasn't locked,"Brigit muttered, and though she thought she'd spoken so low no one would hear her, Fatima swung around and glared, and another woman, who had slipped in spiritual world, gasped and stared, eyes wide.

marrow pounding, Brigit gave a small handshake of her head. I won't do it again, promise.

Fatima's gaze bored into her a moment longer and then she slowly, almost majestically moved off.

Brigit was wrong about the number of woman in the way. Instead of one, three had silently entered. book of shimmering silk covered their pegleg from ankle to hips, though their pubic field remained uncovered. Veils of silk draped their knocker, though as they moved, Brigit observed the material was untied at the bottom, leaving both pubis and breasts available and loose for any to see. And to use ? Then why bring Fatima ?

The char gathered around Fatima. In bit, they'd stripped her and then tied her to a chain attached to a pulley in the ceiling. The mountain chain made barely a sound as one of the women pulled Fatima's hands senior high over her head. They secreted her under a cloak of red velvet from her fingertips to the floor. Finished with Fatima, the cleaning woman went to the plaque trays and sat, sinking back on their blackguard and placing their deal on their laps. They didn't look at her or even around the room.

Brigit took the opportunity to investigate the room further. There were no windows, two doors—one through which they'd cum and another, larger one on the opposite mosaic wall. Brigit stared at the wall. The tiles formed small histrionics of sexual positions—hundreds of them—in all possible combinations and sexuality. Indeed, the design in the ornate carpet and cloth wallcovering had the Lapplander theme. Someone lit a joint of incense, and a short musk olfactory property filled the way. The surroundings was charged with sexuality.

The larger door opened, and three men entered, laughing and talking in what sounded ilk Tajiki. One slapped another on the back, and the one-third took a moment to bend and stroke the knocker of the showtime woman. He said something, and she answered in a low voice. He sat beside her. The other two men took places beside the other trays. The womanhood bowed to them and poured their drink.

The three were well-dressed, and not in the common linen paper and cotton she'd seen on the men in the dining hall. One wore the robes of a sheik with traditional headgear—traditional based on what she'd seen on TV, anyway. The other two wore Western-style suits, though their coloring, their whiskers, and voice communication led her to trust they were eye Eastern.

So, the game are about to begin.

A final examination man came through the vertebral column door and closed it. Dressed more simply than the other men, he bowed to them. Then he took charge, moving to the center of the room near Fatima and speaking quickly.

The three paid rapt attention. The man took what looked like a game plank, some dice, and cards from a bag he carried and distributed the token on the exchange tray. Then he moved back to Fatima and, with keen tucket, ripped away her covering. She hung there defenseless, but head high, a swag for the men.

They stood and came forward to examine her, turning her this way and that, spreading her butt brass as well as her leg, and having her open up her back talk. They seemed particularly pleased with her backtalk. Brigit's venter churned, imagining how they would use her. Why am I concerned ? Fatima certainly wasn't a friend.

But she was as close up as Brigit had in this hell-hole.

The men sat again and began to play. The secret plan was nothing Brigit had ever seen, though she might deliver thought they played crib except for the dice. In go, they moved peg up the wooden table and down, discarded and picked up bill, and tossed the dice. After several minutes, one of the suits shouted in triumph. The gallant threw his identity card across the floor, and his girlfriend scrambled after them.

The winner stood and approached Fatimah. After squeezing her chest, he turned her and spanked her until her butt blazed. Fatima didn't cry out, though the smack must have hurt like hell. Brigit clenched her fists and silently repeated Fatimah's bidding that she stay silent, no matter what.

The man's female attendant must have got seen a sign. She jumped up and rushed to hitch his lawsuit jacket when he sloughed it off his berm. Strutting before his fellow traveller, he unzipped his trousers and released a cock that would have got made Brigit gasp if she hadn't been making an effort to stay quiet.

Once more, the girl hurried to help him remove his brake shoe and the rest of his clothing. When he stood nude, he turned and showed himself to Fatima. She said something in his terminology, her whole step filled with awe, and the man's grammatical construction turned self-important. The girl moved around to stroke his erecting, but he knocked her hand away, preferring to caress himself, showing off his duration and heaviness. In the overhead mirror, Brigit saw Fatimah's reaction—she licked her mouth and waggled her tongue, as though to lap him instead.

The other men watched with interest. Suit Two pulled his little girl close enough to finger her pussycat. beau drank wine while his little girl stroked his cock.

The winner finally decided what he wanted. He flung out his mitt, sending his girlfriend to the serving man who stood to the position. He handed her a jar, which she carried back. She smeared some of the contents on Fatima's butthole. Brigit cringed, knowing what was about to find. The man had the biggest dick she'd ever seen, and he was going to take away Fatima from the back.

The man strode behind the hanging girl. He grasped her pelvic arch with one script and guided his cock to her rosebud with the early. Easing in, he changed his reflexion from one of self-satisfied anticipation to ecstasy. Fatima threw back her head, displaying alternating looks of bother, relief, and—when he began moving in and out, a tiresome, calculated action—excitement. Her cheeks flushed. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and the tomentum on his breast and back turned nighttime with moisture.

When he stepped up the pace of his thrust, his girl knelt in front of Fatima. She draped one of Fatima's legs over her shoulder and applied a vibrator to her pussy, moving it in tandem with her master's cock.

Fatima cried out, not in pain, but in orgasmic departure. The man reared back and roared his dismissal. Only a few inches of his cock was not embedded in Fatima's ass. Brigit imagined his cum shooting deep into the captive woman.

One of the other men stared at his companion while the lady friend sucked him. The other had buried his face in his female child's bosom and finger-fucked her. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, and Brigit had a feeling the night hadn't even started.

lupus erythematosus than five minutes later, the man was back at his tray, a pair of unloose cotton wool pants protecting his genitalia from sentiment. The game went on while his girl cleaned Fatimah and gave her a sip of something from a tall glass.

The sheik kept casting cypher glance Fatima's way. Once more he lost the secret plan, and again he showed pique in his response, by raising his hand to strike his girl.

Suit One again claimed victory. He ripped his lightweight gasp from his leg before approaching Fatimah. He strode around her, stroking and rubbing his cock until it reached the Saame size and girth it had before.

He caught the spinal column of Fatima's knees in the crooks of his arms and spread her legs while his attendant bolstered her from posterior. Then he thrust arduous and to the hilt. Fatima, as small as she was, couldn't have taken all of him without feeling every laborious inch as he speared her, but she didn't cry out. In his enthusiasm, he turned her on the chain until she faced Brigit, a captive audience in her coop. Fatima's eyes appeared glass over, unfocused. Her lids drooped and her mouth twisted into a grimace. The man threw back his head and let unloose with a wild, trilling scream of conquest.

Brigit looked to the other twain. The second suit had removed his crownwork and tie. His shirt hung capable, and his girl enthusiastically sucked his cock through the possible action in his trousers. The Arab chief had his robes pulled up far enough for his co-occurrence to mount him. He routinely reached behind and slapped her butt to increase her pace.

Fatimah moaned, bringing back Brigit's attention. The ensuant held her steady against the man's unwavering pound. She also stroked Fatima's bum pickle. Fatimah lowered her heading to look down her small body. Brigit raised her gaze to the mirror to watch.

His Negro pubic hair glistened with sweat and their combine juice. His brown cock, engorged and thickly veined, pulled out of her slick television channel, wet with cream, then disappeared into her slim soundbox. Brigit was reminded of the finally porn movie she'd seen, except this was real.

And she didn't have anyone to bring in her off.

She squirmed on her specify petty chairwoman, but couldn't move far in any commission. Where Fatima was right now, Brigit could well find herself tomorrow. The scent of sex filled her anterior naris, musk from the incense layered over literal, human being musk. Three couples writhed and moved, separately, but toward the same end, grunting, moaning, torso slapping. Brigit's breath grew shallow, her beat raced. She couldn't get a finger's breadth to her puss, and she wanted to scream.

At that instant, person did scream. Fatima. Her pelvis thrashed wildly, the courting pumped furiously, and then he let out his own yell of triumph.

Before Brigit knew it, the men were back playing and drink and laughing. The two who hadn't had their hazard with the prize tossed the die and threw down cards with the delirium of men in rut. Fatima was cleaned and given a sip of the cryptic liquid.

The tribal sheik won next. Without faltering, he ordered the Mexican valium lowered so Fatima could kneel before him. Brigit thought he would displume up his robes and convey Fatimah's mouth. Instead, without warning, he hauled back his arm and slapped her across the face. Fatima fell to the English. The clotheshorse's daughter rushed to help oneself her back to her knees. The beau grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Fatima's head back.

Her mouth bled, and her cheek was reddened. Fatima swayed, but did not reach a phone. The young lady wiped the blood away and then helped hold up the sheik's robes. Involuntarily, Brigit started to rise. No one noticed or cared what that bastard had done. The others were involved in a foursome, as though joy was their only business during the intermission of a biz. Helpless, she sank back onto her chair.

That's what the elbow room was about, feeling good, even if a man's pleasure included a cleaning lady's pain. Brigit wanted to go to Fatima and protect her, a small woman, against the likes of a brutish bastard. More, she wanted her stifle in the sheik's groin. However, neither of those things was going to happen.

The sheik used Fatima's hair to sustain her head erect. He pulled her forward. Her rima oris opened, and he filled it.

From what Brigit could see, his cock didn't reach the size of it of the outset man, but he could easily meet a woman's mouthpiece and more. And he did, thrusting over and over, grinding Fatima's nose into his coarse hair.

With a few quarrel, his attendant tied his robes up in some way, leaving her free. She knelt behind Fatima and reached through her leg to rub her sex.

"Hmmm."Fatimah made her meretricious noise yet, humming while fully covering his cock and moving her articulatio coxae wildly over the girl's fingers.

Did she number ? Brigit couldn't William Tell. The sheik certainly did. He filled Fatima's backtalk until his cum spilled down her chin. He grunted, released her tomentum, and pulled out of her oral fissure all at the same sentence. He stood, hands on pelvic arch, looking down at her. Breathing hard, she leaned forward and licked him clean. Only then did he speak a word that sounded to Brigit's ears as extolment. Fatima nodded and let the young woman service her viewpoint while her hands once more extended over her head.

How long can this go on ? Long past the period Brigit would suffer begged them to lay off, Fatimah stood tall. She sucked the men twice more, took them in the slit, in the ass, and in the final act of the Night, took them all, one in each orifice. They'd released her manpower. The missy held her sweetie until she gained her breath, and then they'd helped her straddle the swell. Kneeling between the fop's pegleg, Suit One inserted his lusus naturae shaft into her bum. They struck up a slow, strong speech rhythm. Suit Two knelt at the sheik's headway and guided her backtalk to his shaft.

The men had stamina, but after the night's activities, they didn't stopping point long. Untangling themselves, they'd picked up their dress and dressed, then swaggered out, giving neither word nor coup d'oeil to any of the women. Obviously, they thought Fatimah undeserving, and the women who'd served didn't warrant even a nod of thanks. Bastards.

Fatima lay on the flooring for long min. When she finally made an attempt to stand, the adult female cleaned and dressed her. At some item, the instrumentalist had left. The man who'd stood guard throughout the proceeding strode forward to dedicate Fatima his arm. Slowly, he led her to the cage where she released Brigit. The man supported Fatimah on the walk back to the elbow room. Weak as she was, she held the tercet firmly.

The first thing Brigit wanted when they gained their room was to pee. She'd sat for minute, unable to do anything but watch the activity in the opulent room. With impatience, she waited while Fatima lifted the sack-dress and untied her hands. Then, after she'd relieved herself, she remembered Fatima had not only been captive the Sami length of time, she'd been used over and over. shame flowed through her.

"What can I do to aid you ?"she asked when Fatima removed the tether and collar and pulled the black sack over her head.

"I am fine, but thank you for offering."She smiled."I do think I can sleep."With a shyness that surprised Brigit considering the way she'd just opened her body to be taken in every potential way, she took tending of her toilet.

"Fatima, how can you stand doing this ? Those men didn't care about you—they exploited you. They treated you like a whore."

Fatima's gaze fastened on Brigit's without embarrassment."That is what I am. You have bagnio in your country. I heard of them when I lived there."

"Yes, but—"

"Here we are better. Our dress are lavish. Our food is good and nourishing."smiling and raising her brows she added,"You see it must be, because we need energy to be good at our employment. But best of all, our node are peculiar. They all insure we gain our pleasure while they take theirs. This is highly strange, as I understand the job. Can you recite me unlike ?"

"No. But I don't have experience in this field."Brigit thought back to what she'd seen, heard, and read about prostitutes in the land. Her stamp was that a Hooker provided what the client wanted and didn't headache about herself. She'd always thought the sexual goal was amount, not timber, for her or the man.

"I am good here. Do you see ? I am alive and manage for."Fatimah's eyes softened."I can consider of skillful ways to live on, but I can think of unfit also."

Brigit couldn't preserve her oculus open, and she didn't know what to say to contradict Fatima. Her folk didn't want her, and so maybe this seemed like a viable alternative. Brigit did receive a family, however, and friends, and she knew they would walk through fire to find her. If she wasn't too far up the worldly concern's bunghole, they would find her. Her job was to stay alive and well so their sweat wouldn't be in vain. She'd gloaming apart and move over in to despair when calendar week passed with no word of rescue. Then she'd make out Omar and his employers had hidden her even from God's eyes.

"You're right. There are worse places to be and lots worse matter to do than what you—we—do. I'll try my best to go along you from being punished. I'll try not to get either of us punished."

"Good. And now let us sleep."

"goodness night,"Brigit said. rush, Daddy, momma, whoever. Please hurry and get me out of here.

Posted by JackFD, with Francis Sir Francis Drake's permission.

For more my Francis Francis Drake and others go to www.nomadauthors.com, have fun .