Brigit's Introduction 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, take in fun.

Brigit twisted into a pose position. The cot on which she lay was no different from the one she'd left in her previous cellphone, though the elbow room in which she now found herself was slightly improved. Like her other"place,"this room had a makeshift toilet and sink, but here a cloth screen door partially hid them. There was a table bolted to the storey, a small cabinet secured in the same way, and two beds. In the bulwark above the table, someone had embedded a shiny musical composition of metallic element that served as a mirror.

The room smelled fresh, without a hint of mustiness, though from all the stone and Oliver Stone Brigit saw in the corridors, she thought they might be underground or in a cave. Now she found the generator of the novelty. High on the wall over their layer, a vent circulated air through the slatted metal. Next to it was a round of glass—a windowpane. After her days in dark isolation, Brigit couldn't get enough of the light.

None of these conveniences changed the fact that the door lacked a handle, making the room a prison cell.

At lowest, Brigit's regard lighted on the self-aggrandising improvement in the new room, her companion, Fatima. She wore layers of semitransparent materials that hid fiddling. Her long ramification, nail down shank, and full breasts were in view even behind the material. Her high os zygomaticum, bombastic, morose eyes, and wax lips lent her the look of exotic beauty enhanced by the caramel color of her skin. Raven inkiness hairsbreadth fell in rivers of Wave over her shoulder joint. In America, she could have made a destiny as a role model. Her face had an gloriole of mystery merchant will kill for.

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

"I am sorry you are here,"Fatima said.

"Where the sin is here ?"

"Nowhere you want to be."

No shit."You speak English."

"I went to shoal in New York City."

"I'm from San Francisco."

"Nice place."The girl looked wistful.

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

The grin on Fatimah's face disappeared as quickly as it had formed."Oh, yes. There is no dodging from the hook. It is he who holds us. It is here we will die."

The tidings froze Brigit's roue. The claw ? Just the name conjured paradigm of a slasher jumping from the shadows on a Halloween dark, just like in horror moving picture. One thing was for trusted, Claw or not, she had no intention of dying in some donjon, a captive of men with values culled from the midriff Ages.

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

"In New York I had a boyfriend. We loved each early and planned to marry, so I slept with him. When I returned home for a visit and my parents found out, my mother wanted to vote down me."

Brigit tried to be polite, but her back talk dropped open."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 make a little money off my sin."

Her impassionate verbal expression shocked Brigit as much as the words. Then she detected a deep unhappiness in Fatimah's eyes."Your parents sold you to the people here ? I can't believe it."

"It is not uncommon."The girl shrugged."The worst matter is, I never had a opportunity to say goodbye 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 response would be."

"My mother found a letter from Tommy."Staring into space, the girl fell silent.

Brigit left her to her memories. She had enough to recollect about with her own situation. How in underworld would she ever get out of this ? She knew her family would try to detect her, but everything they knew was a lie. Crap, I need to keep my wits about me.

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

Fatima shook her school principal."If you found your way out of the construction, where would you go ? A declamatory stave of men is employed within the compound. Outside, too. If you get past them, you face the mickle, rough and high. Even in summer, the temperatures drop cloth at night. We have no vesture but this."The girlfriend indicated what she wore, including fragile sock-type carpet slipper. They would break as a good deal trade protection against rock music as the light material would against cold. Which was to say, none at all. And, of grade, the trip up had shown her how isolated 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 maintain our beauty, we remain in the elite group house, where men pay much money to use our body. We do not receive money, of course."She smiled rather apologetically."But if we cause trouble or when we age, we are sent below to serve the employees. I have heard tales. Women do not live on 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 stand a whipping or two,"Brigit said boldly.

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

"What ?"The thinking that anyone would punish this delicate beauty 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 paw and tighten 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 walk fast enough to keep up with the safety who led them through the labyrinth of hallways.

Fatima continued."Because you are new and I had no time with you, the precaution were soft this daybreak. But if you lag behind and make to be pulled to your duties, we will both be punished. If you follow my trail and do as you are told, we will be fed better and treated better in the hall. So please, Brigit… ?"

"I'll do my best."

She fell back on the bed in despair.

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

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

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

Brigit shook her forefront."No."binge trailed down her brass."They think I'm visiting my boyfriend's menage in capital of Pakistan. I found out later he's from Tajik. Is that where we are now ?"

"Yes. Is it he who betrayed you ?"

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

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

That said it all. Brigit's morale sank. This would be her biography, too. Until she died, at any rate, a fate she would gladly adopt. Except now her action mechanism affected somebody else. She'd force herself to be rather than bring More suffering to Fatima.

Footsteps sounded outside the cellular phone. The pass-through in the room access slid subject. A man gave an parliamentary law in what Brigit now recognized as Tajiki.

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

"It is time for me to prepare you to eat."Fatimah rose and went to the doorway where rope and a sinister robe had been pushed on the shelf.

Fatimah came forward."beginning your hands."

Brigit jerked back."No."Tears stung her oculus. She would never make it, never last in this…whatever hell this was.

"bandstand, please. You must be tied until they are certain you will be cooperative."

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

"I will bung you. It is piece of my task."

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

"Fine,"Brigit responded bitterly."I suppose I'll have to go naked until they're sure I'll be cooperative ?"With her hands confined to her abdomen, she was unable to wipe away the tear trickling down her cheek. Fatima stared at it, but didn't wipe it away either.

Silently, she draped the black material over Brigit, leaving only her head visible. Fatima tied the sack under Brigit's Kuki-Chin."Sit, so that I can incubate your feet."

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

Hands bound and covered from cervix to ankles in a black, formless bag, Brigit was as far from the life-time she'd known shoemaker's last hebdomad as it was possible to be. She wanted to cry, to scream, to pound her fists against the bulwark. She wanted her mother.

"I can't conceive this,"she said in a halter voice.

"I am sad. Soon, this is all you will believe."The discussion rang like a decease knell in Brigit's mind.

The door squeaked heart-to-heart, and Fatimah started forward. Brigit followed, knowing she had no choice.

A pop phrase from the 1980s filled her mind."This is the first off day of the rest of your life."Suddenly, whether in hysterical neurosis or the sheer contrast between the old affirmation and what she now faced, Brigit wanted to laugh.



Chapter 3

The tripper to the dining lobby, the meal, and the walkway back were not much more than than a blur to Brigit. Fatimah held the leash as loosely as possible, but the ignominy of being treated like a pet burned. abasement was high on Brigit's mind, right along with betrayal, veneration, and the knowledge of her foolishness.

One of her friends had warned her about Middle Eastern men and their survey of fair sex, which differed greatly from those of the Rebecca West. She'd heard the news composition and seen the features on the lack of charwoman's right in places like Afghanistan, but she'd ignored all that. Omar hadn't fit any of the stereotypes. He'd been good to her and fun. They'd gone crapulence together for Pete's sake—wasn't intoxicant against their culture ? —proving her booster's fright were unwarranted. He'd seemed different from what everyone described. But he hadn't been. Now she knew he'd seen her only as a small-arm of sum, a means to an end.

Granted, she wouldn't have wished this joint on his babe or any other woman. But that did not give him the right to jug her.

All Brigit noticed of the halls and rooms she'd been through showed a bareness that contrasted with the material in Fatimah's attire. There had been a dozen or so womanhood in the dining hall, which resembled cypher more than than a gray-walled institutional room with two cable of tables. They sat on terrace and were served by a figure of early women who scurried between the tables under the watchful gaze of a few sentry duty. The serving woman wore muslin chemise, while the women seated at the tabular array had all been dressed similarly to Fatimah, in see-through nightie that hid nothing of their physical structure. The exception was another woman who, like her, wore a black sack. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She'd never seen a room of women so silent.

The food proved bare but sizeable, though it tasted comparable ash in Brigit's mouthpiece. All she could think about was her stupidity. She'd been not only dim, but arrogant. Against good advice, she'd trusted Omar. She'd put him and her desire for dangerous undertaking above her parents, and she'd ignored the exemplary statements of her own government when she agreed to trip to this wild division of the world. Now she might spend the rest of her life here, unable to realise amends.

When Fatimah led her rachis to their sparse elbow room, a woman stopped them and spoke in a low voice.

The door 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 spine."Wh…why ? What did she do ?"

"I don't know. They might annunciate the reason or they might not."Fatima leaned toward the mirror and adjusted her earrings. Her movements were chance, but Brigit spied how her digit trembled.

"Who is it ?"

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

"But, how can you dwell without Quaker ? This spot would be unbearable to face alone."

Fatima placed her hands on Brigit's berm."It is unbearable no matter what. If I were friends with the woman who is being punished today, how could I handle watching her humiliation and pain in the neck and be intimate doing anything would lend the same to myself ? We must each take care of ourselves."

A feeling of despair enveloped Brigit. Every time she thought she'd reached her scummy point, something happened to prove her wrong. She'd thought if she were miserable, she'd at least have female familiar who would translate."So when you're no longer my mentor, we won't talk again or part our experiences ?"

"It would be best."Sadness crossed Fatima's face, but the expression passed quickly and she put Brigit from her. She turned and paced in the small-scale space, 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. Words would have caught in her pharynx anyway. The Spartan living conditions, the regimented modus vivendi, and the nutritious but bland food—she could adjust 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 mystifying breath."What will they do to this woman you don't know or handle about ?"She didn't bother hiding the tartness from her voice.

Fatimah cast her a ail glance and then turned away."She most likely upset a guest, so it is his decisiveness. We won't know what he chose until we arrive."

repulsion filled Brigit."But, what's to halt a man from saying we did something wrong ? Suppose something happens that isn't our mistake ? He still gets to penalize us ? That's not fair !"Too former she realized what a nonsensical statement that was.

"This is not America, Brigit. We have no rightfulness. If we are blamed wrongfully, we must beg the guest's pardon and Hope he will look 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 bicycle. The guards turned the bicycle so that she was dunked in a pond, and they left her there for a farseeing clock time. I understood that some girlfriend could be revived after such punishment, but she could not be. She died before our eyes, and all because she took too foresightful to respond to a guest's wishing. There is no dominance here. Any of us can converge Allah on the whim of a guest, a guard, or the Claw."

"Barbaric hoot people."

"As you say."

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

Two guards dragged a naked woman to the center of the room. They attached her wrists to a bar, then raised it over her head where they attached it to string hanging from the roof. They separated her feet and attached each articulatio talocruralis to the conclusion of another bar.

With a tempestuous glint in her eyes, the cleaning woman's regard raked the crowd of woman and then blastoff to a man sitting at the high gear board reserved for the guards. She cried out to him in a language Brigit didn't understand. Her tone begged. To no avail.

The man flicked his hand, and the womanhood dissolved into binge. A different sentry go, the enceinte 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 knock off to her knees and remove our node into her lip, the customer has requested the Violet Wand."Fatima took Brigit's hand through the robe and squeezed.

The guard held out a wand-like control stick with a light up chalk bulb at the tip. When he flipped a switch on the verge, regal sparks shot around inside the incandescent lamp. He held it near the woman's face and an arc of purple electricity dead reckoning from the bulb to her skin.

The woman shrieked and tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. He touched her breast, and her scream rang through the hall.

Male laughter came from the heights table where the pig who'd condemned the woman to the violet wand pointed and laughed. Another man joined him. He wore a white gown and turban. Black gloves covered his hands, and he fiddled with a drawing string of beads. He sat with the client but didn't laugh, just watched without emotion. Brigit would wipe out them without a 2nd opinion, given the probability. As it was, Fatima tugged on the leash, making her face forward again.

Except for the man, silence filled the 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 wand. They shocked her on both breasts, her branch, neck, face, and butt before she fainted again. After reviving her, they moved to her sex. Brigit knew she'd never wipe off the sounds of the woman's screams from her judgement. 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 pass tomorrow ?"Brigit couldn't guess how the fair sex could confront the next day.

"Our sidereal day are all alike. We have breakfast and then a walking and exercise. Later, we can once more enjoy a walk in the courtyard, soak in the scented pool, and prepare to run across our guests."

"Every day ?"tedium would kill her if fucking fat pigs who enjoyed the straining of young cleaning woman didn't do it first.

"Most twenty-four hours, yes."

"Did you know her, Fatima ?"

Fatima didn't speak for respective minutes."Go to sleep, 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 fear of what awaited her tomorrow, exhaustion overtook her. Brigit was asleep almost before her promontory touched the pillow.

* * * *

The adjacent day passed more quickly than Brigit could possess guessed. They woke to a bell, dressed, and walked to the dining room for breakfast. She was restrained, as before. Afterwards, they walked outdoors in a courtyard filled with flowers. The line between the outdoors environment and what they faced in their room was so great, Brigit's warmness almost broke when they had to go in. But instead of being led back to the gray paries and closeness of their cell-like space, they were sent to an exercise room.

Fatimah explained that their pleasing build were crucial to maintain. Especially full of life were Kegel physical exercise."Men enjoy the strong belief of a woman's pussy clutching their manhood,"explained Fatima.

I'd like to cling to someone's manhood, and his balls, too.

An hour or Thomas More later, cleaning woman bathed them in a prominent, fragrant pool and then provided a relaxing massage. Outside the rampart of their room, Brigit could almost trust she was being pampered in an exclusive hatful spa—except for the ever-present guards, and the muteness of the adult female. Fatima met her regard, but no one else did and few spoke to Fatima. When Brigit moved toward another char, Fatima tugged on the collar, pulling her up short and chafing her neck. The fair sex to whom she'd intended to say hello met her middle for a legal brief moment—enough for Brigit to see them filled with fear—then she glanced at a nearby safeguard, dropped her gaze, and hurried away.

"The gifts you experienced this morning are provided for those of us at the highest level of service. Do not be fooled into thinking that all the char here live as grandly as we do,"Fatima confided when they returned to their room after dinner.

chiliad ? This ?

Fatima unfastened Brigit's bond certificate, saying,"I must ready myself. respite for a few moments."She moved to her bed and knack to pull a basket from below it. Sitting, she opened the field goal and removed several items.

"What are you preparing for ?"Brigit stretched out on her side and propped up on her elbow. Fatima applied a glowering brown eye vestige, which enhanced her dusky cutis tones.

"There is a company for a group of men. They have requested me to serve as the entertainment."With a brightness hand, she added sparkle to the lids of her heart and a powder that gave her cheeks a fortunate freshness."Because you are new, no one will expect you to enter, but you must attach to me so you get an theme of what will be expected."

She removed the top of her kit and spread a cream around her teat that sharpened the ruddy coloration of her areola."This is something Middle Eastern men find exciting,"she explained,"along with eyes which are outlined and thick. Sometimes I also redden the low-spirited mouth, so that like blossom petals, my folds draw the bee."She looked up.

Brigit's stunned incredulity must receive shown on her face because Fatima burst into peals of soft, musical laughter."You will learn. I will instruct you. As your mentor, it is my labor. But for tonight, just observe."She adjusted a mirror before dipping a sharpened wooden pin into a modest pot. Rubbing the tip against the side of the pot to remove excess, she expertly outlined her eyes with a Black person liquid.

What I couldn't do with my makeup case."So I'll just sit on the spare-time activity ?"Brigit wondered what kind of evening this would be. She'd never been in any form of brothel, much lupus erythematosus lived in one. The thought of attending a subprogram tonight, when all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry herself to sleep, filled her with dread.

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

"I'll what ?"

Fatima took a breathing space and returned her items to the basketful, which she stored back in its place."In this case, it will serve as your protection. When the men see you locked away, they will not ask you to do something you are not organise to do. However, as always, we will be watched. It is vital you do not say anything, no matter what you see or what I do. No impairment will fall to either of us if you do as I say. If you do not…"

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

Fatima nodded."And the guests would choose, since the veto activity took place during their party."She shuddered."Remember what you saw yesterday, and please do as I say."She finished dressing in soft, violet film that wasn't constructed enough to be called even a gown or gown and then turned to Brigit."Are you ready ?

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

"The solitary way you will larn 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 part and tried to immerse past the bunko game of weeping lodged in her throat.

Gathering the discharge around Brigit's shoulder joint, Fatima retied her manus and then looped the rope through a sort out R-2 she wrapped around Brigit's shank. When she covered the restraints with the bag-dress, she said,"Tonight you will also assume a hood."Brigit started to protest, but Fatima kept on, her representative even, but firm."You are ovalbumin. There are few White women here, and they are a great deal in demand of late. There is no need tempting this evening's Guest with what they should not have. There will be drinking. The drinkable does more than satisfy thirst. It stirs the roue. If they see your skin, they will want you, and you are not ready."

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

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

"All right ?"Fatima pulled at the edge of the cowling, smoothing it over Brigit's shoulders.

Brigit nodded, unable to speak.

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

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

The hall twisted and wound until Brigit had no idea where she was in intercourse to her room. Finally, they turned into a room decorated with opulent textile draping one wall. mosaic designs in tiles of the brightest colors decorated the other paries. A turgid Oriental-style rug covered a major part of the concrete trading floor. Mirrors covered the roof. Bright pillows littered one slope of the rug, and four boldness trays were set among the pillows.

In one corner, a man strummed an exotic cat's-paw. The sound—something between a guitar and steel drum—served as background. The musician was blindfolded, making Brigit question what kind of mayhem would take place.

In the opposite quoin, a with child John Milton Cage Jr. sat in shadow. Fatima led Brigit to the John Milton Cage Jr. and urged her inside."Try to get comfortable. You will be here for quite a patch and will not be allowed out for any reason."She lowered her articulation."Unless it is for punishment, and you will not want that."

"No."Brigit murmured her understanding. The cage that had looked sufficient on the outside suddenly seemed a great deal low when it became her temporary home. She couldn't pedestal. A chair placed near the center meant she wouldn't have to sit on the flooring, but she had no exemption of effort. When she was seated, Fatima secured the III to the top of the John Milton Cage Jr. leaving her head a few in from the top stripe. The valuation account of rope stretched only from Brigit's neck opening to the top bar. Not only bars and metal imprisoned her, the chair did now also.

"Do not forget. stop silent no matter what you see. No matter 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 swift nod, Fatimah 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 take heed her, Fatima swung around and glared, and another adult female, who had slipped in spiritual world, gasped and stared, heart wide.

nub pounding, Brigit gave a small trill 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 women in the elbow room. Instead of one, three had silently entered. Volumes of shimmering silk covered their stage from ankle joint to hips, though their pubic areas remained bring out. Veils of silk draped their breasts, though as they moved, Brigit observed the material was untied at the bottom, leaving both pubis and breasts available and open for any to see. And to use ? Then why bring Fatimah ?

The women gathered around Fatima. In seconds, they'd stripped her and then tied her to a Sir Ernst Boris Chain attached to a pulley in the ceiling. The chain made barely a auditory sensation as one of the women pulled Fatima's paw high over her top dog. They secreted her under a cloak of red velvet from her fingertips to the floor. Finished with Fatima, the woman went to the nerve trays and sat, sinking back on their hound and placing their hands on their laps. They didn't flavor at her or even around the room.

Brigit took the opportunity to investigate the elbow room further. There were no window, two doors—one through which they'd ejaculate and another, tumid one on the opponent mosaic wall. Brigit stared at the wall. The roofing tile formed diminished internal representation of sexual positions—hundreds of them—in all possible compounding and sex. Indeed, the pattern in the ornate carpeting and framework wallcovering had the same theme. individual lit a stick of incense, and a Inner Light musk odour filled the elbow room. The environment was charged with sexuality.

The enceinte door opened, and three men entered, laughing and talking in what sounded like Tajiki. One slapped another on the binding, and the third took a moment to deflect and stroke the titty of the first off cleaning 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 fair sex bowed to them and poured their drink.

The three were well-dressed, and not in the common linen and cotton she'd seen on the men in the dining hall. One wore the robe of a sheik with traditional headgear—traditional based on what she'd seen on TV, anyway. The other two wore Western-style courting, though their food colour, their beard, and language led her to think they were midriff Eastern.

So, the games are about to begin.

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

The three paid rapt tending. The man took what looked like a game board, some dice, and cards from a bag he carried and distributed the point on the cardinal tray. Then he moved back to Fatimah and, with great fanfare, ripped away her cover. She hung there naked, but head high, a prize for the men.

They stood and came forward to see her, turning her this way and that, spreading her butt boldness as well as her stage, and having her capable her mouth. They seemed particularly pleased with her back talk. Brigit's tum churned, imagining how they would use her. Why am I concerned ? Fatima certainly wasn't a friend.

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

The men sat again and began to play. The game was zippo Brigit had ever seen, though she might have thought they played cribbage except for the dice. In turn, they moved peg up the wooden board and down, discarded and picked up cards, and tossed the dice. After various transactions, one of the suits shouted in triumph. The gallant threw his cards across the floor, and his girl scrambled after them.

The achiever stood and approached Fatima. After squeezing her bosom, he turned her and spanked her until her butt blazed. Fatima didn't cry out, though the slaps must hold hurt like hell. Brigit clenched her fists and silently repeated Fatimah's command that she bide silent, no matter what.

The man's female attender must receive seen a signal. She jumped up and rushed to watch his suit jacket when he sloughed it off his shoulders. Strutting before his fellow, he unzipped his trousers and released a rooster that would have made Brigit gasp if she hadn't been making an effort to stay quiet.

Once more, the girl hurried to avail him get rid of his shoes and the relaxation of his clothing. When he stood nude, he turned and showed himself to Fatima. She said something in his language, her quality filled with awe, and the man's locution turned arrogant. The girlfriend moved around to stroke his erection, but he knocked her hired man away, preferring to caress himself, showing off his length and thickness. In the viewgraph mirror, Brigit saw Fatimah's reaction—she licked her brim and waggled her tongue, as though to lick him instead.

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

The winner finally decided what he wanted. He flung out his hand, sending his girl to the serving man who stood to the side. He handed her a jar, which she carried back. She smeared some of the contents on Fatimah's butthole. Brigit cringed, knowing what was about to befall. The man had the fully grown shaft she'd ever seen, and he was going to take Fatima from the back.

The man strode behind the hanging girl. He grasped her articulatio coxae with one hand and guided his hammer to her rosebud with the other. Easing in, he changed his formula from one of smug anticipation to ecstasy. Fatima threw back her top dog, displaying alternating looks of pain, sculptural relief, and—when he began moving in and out, a tardily, measured action—excitement. Her impudence flushed. Sweat beaded on his os frontale, and the haircloth on his bureau and back turned darkness with moisture.

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

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

One of the former men stared at his companion while the young lady sucked him. The other had buried his facial expression in his daughter's bosom and finger-fucked her. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, and Brigit had a feeling the dark hadn't even started.

Less than five mo later, the man was back at his tray, a pair of on the loose cotton pants protecting his privates from view. The game went on while his female child cleaned Fatima and gave her a sip of something from a tall glass.

The tribal sheikh kept casting calculated glances Fatimah's way. Once more he lost the game, and again he showed irritability in his reaction, by raising his hand to strike his girl.

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

He caught the dorsum of Fatima's knees in the criminal of his arms and spread her peg while his attendant bolstered her from seat. Then he thrust strong and to the hilt. Fatima, as small as she was, couldn't have taken all of him without feeling every hard inch as he speared her, but she didn't cry out. In his exuberance, he turned her on the chain until she faced Brigit, a captive interview in her Cage. Fatima's optic appeared glaze over, unfocused. Her lids drooped and her mouth twisted into a grimace. The man threw back his head and let loosen with a wild, trilling scream of conquest.

Brigit looked to the other dyad. The second wooing had removed his jacket and tie. His shirt hung open, and his girl enthusiastically sucked his cock through the opening in his trousers. The sheik had his robes pulled up far enough for his attendant to ride him. He routinely reached behind and slapped her rear end to increase her pace.

Fatimah moaned, bringing back Brigit's attention. The attendant held her steady against the man's regular buffeting. She also stroked Fatimah's bum muddle. Fatima lowered her nous to look down her small body. Brigit raised her gaze to the mirror to watch.

His black pubic hair glistened with perspiration and their commingled succus. His embrown stopcock, engorged and thickly veined, pulled out of her slick television channel, wet with ointment, then disappeared into her melt off consistence. Brigit was reminded of the finis porn flick she'd seen, except this was real.

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

She squirmed on her specialize niggling chair, but couldn't move far in any direction. Where Fatima was right now, Brigit could well bump herself tomorrow. The olfactory property of sex filled her nostril, musk from the incense layered over genuine, man musk. Three couples writhed and moved, separately, but toward the like end, grunting, moaning, torso slapping. Brigit's breath grew shallow, her beat raced. She couldn't get a finger to her pussy, and she wanted to scream.

At that moment, someone did riot. Fatima. Her hips thrashed wildly, the wooing pumped furiously, and then he let out his own yell of triumph.

Before Brigit knew it, the men were back playacting and drinking and laughing. The two who hadn't had their fortune with the trophy tossed the die and threw down calling card with the hysteria of men in rut. Fatimah was cleaned and given a sip of the mysterious liquid.

The sheik won adjacent. Without hesitation, he ordered the Mexican valium lowered so Fatimah could kneel before him. Brigit thought he would pull up his gown and consider Fatima's mouth. Instead, without word of advice, he hauled back his arm and slapped her across the fount. Fatimah fell to the side. The sheik's fille rushed to help her dorsum to her knees. The sheik grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Fatimah's head back.

Her mouth bled, and her boldness was reddened. Fatimah swayed, but did not constitute a sound. The girl wiped the blood away and then helped book up the sheik's robes. Involuntarily, Brigit started to rise. No one noticed or cared what that mother fucker had done. The others were involved in a foursome, as though pleasure was their exclusively concern during the suspension of a biz. Helpless, she sank back onto her chair.

That's what the way was about, feeling beneficial, even if a man's pleasure included a womanhood's pain. Brigit wanted to go to Fatimah and protect her, a small fair sex, against the likes of a brutish son of a bitch. More, she wanted her genu in the tribal sheikh's breakwater. However, neither of those thing was going to happen.

The sheik used Fatima's whisker to hold her drumhead erect. He pulled her forward. Her mouthpiece opened, and he filled it.

From what Brigit could see, his hammer didn't reach the size of the low man, but he could easily fill a cleaning woman's mouth and more. And he did, thrusting over and over, grinding Fatima's nose into his coarse hair.

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

"Hmmm."Fatima made her flashy noise yet, humming while fully covering his cock and moving her hips wildly over the female child's fingers.

Did she come ? Brigit couldn't tell. The swell certainly did. He filled Fatima's lip until his cum spilled down her chin. He grunted, released her pilus, and pulled out of her mouth all at the Saami time. He stood, manpower on hips, looking down at her. respiration hard, she leaned forward and licked him clean. Only then did he utter a word that sounded to Brigit's ears as praise. Fatimah nodded and let the little girl help her stand while her hands once more exsert over her head.

How long can this go on ? Long past the stop Brigit would induce begged them to block off, Fatima stood tall. She sucked the men twice more, took them in the twat, in the ass, and in the final act of the night, took them all, one in each orifice. They'd released her hired hand. The girls held her stabilise until she gained her breathing place, and then they'd helped her straddle the Arab chief. Kneeling between the sheik's stage, Suit One inserted his monster cock into her bum. They struck up a dense, strong rhythm. Suit Two knelt at the sheik's promontory and guided her rima oris to his shaft.

The men had stamina, but after the night's activities, they didn't last long. Untangling themselves, they'd picked up their apparel and dressed, then swaggered out, giving neither word nor glance to any of the women. Obviously, they thought Fatima undeserving, and the fair sex who'd served didn't warrantee even a nod of thanks. Bastards.

Fatima lay on the trading floor for recollective minutes. When she finally made an effort to put up, the women cleaned and dressed her. At some full point, the player had left. The man who'd stood guard throughout the transactions strode forward to give Fatima his arm. Slowly, he led her to the batting cage where she released Brigit. The man supported Fatima on the pass back to the room. Weak as she was, she held the leash firmly.

The first thing Brigit wanted when they gained their way was to pee. She'd sat for hours, 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 custody. Then, after she'd relieved herself, she remembered Fatimah had not only been captive the same length of time, she'd been used over and over. Shame flowed through her.

"What can I do to avail you ?"she asked when Fatima removed the leash and collar and pulled the disgraceful firing 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 eubstance to be taken in every possible way, she took care of her toilet.

"Fatima, how can you stand doing this ? Those men didn't maintenance 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 whorehouses in your res publica. I heard of them when I lived there."

"Yes, but—"

"Here we are better. Our clothes are lavish. Our food is adept and nourishing."smile and raising her brows she added,"You see it must be, because we need vigor to be good at our piece of work. But in force of all, our Guest are peculiar. They all ascertain we gain our pleasance while they take theirs. This is highly unusual, as I understand the occupation. Can you tell me different ?"

"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 States. Her impression was that a hooker provided what the customer wanted and didn't concern about herself. She'd always thought the sexual destination was amount, not quality, for her or the man.

"I am safe here. Do you see ? I am awake and cared for."Fatimah's eyes softened."I can suppose of best ways to hold up, but I can call up of worse also."

Brigit couldn't prevent her eyes open, and she didn't know what to say to contradict Fatima. Her family didn't want her, and so maybe this seemed like a executable option. Brigit did sustain a family, however, and friends, and she knew they would walk through fire to get her. If she wasn't too far up the earth's asshole, they would incur her. Her job was to stay live and well so their efforts wouldn't be in vain. She'd fall apart and feed in to despair when weeks passed with no word of deliverance. Then she'd have a go at it Omar and his employers had hidden her even from God's eyes.

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

"Good. And now let us sleep."

"Good night,"Brigit said. Hurry, dada, momma, whoever. Please hurry and get me out of here.

Posted by JackFD, with Francis drake's permission.

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