Brigit's debut to the bordello

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 fun.

Brigit twisted into a posture locating. The cot on which she lay was no dissimilar from the one she'd left in her old electric cell, though the room in which she now found herself was slightly improved. Like her other"home,"this room had a makeshift toilet and sink, but here a cloth screenland partially hid them. There was a mesa bolted to the floor, a lowly cabinet secured in the Sami way, and two beds. In the rampart above the table, someone had embedded a shiny piece of metal that served as a mirror.

The room smelled newly, without a lead of mustiness, though from all the rock and stone Brigit saw in the corridors, she thought they might be underground or in a cave. Now she found the source of the freshness. High on the wall over their beds, a vent circulated air through the slatted metal. 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 door lacked a handgrip, making the elbow room a prison cell.

At last, Brigit's gaze lighted on the grown betterment in the new room, her fellow traveller, Fatima. She wore layers of translucent fabric that hid little. Her prospicient branch, narrow waist, and full moon breasts were in vista even behind the material. Her high malar, prominent, benighted middle, and full back talk lent her the flavour of exotic looker enhanced by the raw sienna color of her peel. Raven Shirley Temple pilus fell in rivers of waves over her shoulders. In the States, she could suffer made a portion as a model. Her fount had an air of enigma merchandiser will defeat for.

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

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

"Where the hell is here ?"

"Nowhere you want to be."

No shit."You speak English."

"I went to schooltime in New House of York City."

"I'm from San Francisco."

"Nice place."The daughter looked wistful.

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

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

The Son froze Brigit's roue. The nipper ? Just the name conjured effigy of a slasher jumping from the shadows on a Halloween dark, just like in horror films. One thing was for sure, Claw or not, she had no intention of dying in some dungeon, a prisoner of men with values culled from the middle Ages.

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

"In New York I had a beau. We loved each early and planned to marry, so I slept with him. When I returned habitation for a sojourn and my parents found out, my mother wanted to kill me."

Brigit tried to be polite, but her mouthpiece dropped undefended."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 minuscule money off my sin."

Her impassionate expression shocked Brigit as much as the words. Then she detected a cryptical sadness in Fatima's centre."Your parents sold you to the citizenry here ? I can't believe it."

"It is not uncommon."The girl shrugged."The high-risk thing is, I never had a chance to say goodbye to my lover. He must cogitate 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 chemical reaction would be."

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

Brigit left her to her memory board. She had enough to think about with her own situation. How in snake pit would she ever get out of this ? She knew her family would try to find her, but everything they knew was a lie. Crap, I need to restrain my wits about me.

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

Fatima shook her mind."If you found your way out of the construction, where would you go ? A large stave of men is employed within the chemical compound. Outside, too. If you get preceding them, you face the mountains, rough and richly. Even in summer, the temperatures drop at nighttime. We have no clothing but this."The girl indicated what she wore, including flimsy sock-type slippers. They would feed as much tribute 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 isolated they were.

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

"We are cocotte. We service whomever we are told. If we are obedient and maintain our beauty, we remain in the elite group house, where men pay a lot 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. cleaning woman do not dwell 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 beating or two,"Brigit said boldly.

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

"What ?"The opinion that anyone would punish this delicate dish turned Brigit's blood to ice."What do I require to do to continue that from happening ?"

"Whenever we leave the room, I will tie your hands and fasten the trey around your neck. As you saw when we came here, pulling on the 3 causes it to tighten."

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

Fatima continued."Because you are new and I had no sentence with you, the guards were soft this morning time. But if you lag behind and have to be pulled to your duties, we will both be punished. If you follow my lead and do as you are told, we will be fed better and care for better in the Charles Francis Hall. So please, 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 ?"Fatima whispered the words tinged with hope.

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

"Yes. Is it he who betrayed you ?"

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

"I am not certain."She seemed to think. Or maybe she fell to dreaming of a better 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 phone number of men."

That said it all. Brigit's morale sank. This would be her animation, too. Until she died, at any rate, a fate she would gladly embrace. Except now her actions affected someone else. She'd military force herself to know rather than bring more suffering to Fatima.

Footsteps sounded outside the prison cell. The pass-through in the door 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 clock time for me to prepare you to eat."Fatimah rose and went to the door where rope and a black robe had been pushed on the shelf.

Fatima came forward."First your hands."

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

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

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

"I will fee you. It is component part of my task."

Reluctantly, Brigit stood and held out her mitt. With efficiency, Fatima bound them, then wrapped the rophy around Brigit's waistline and secured it."Is that too sloshed ? The physical object is to confine movement, not cause pain."

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

Silently, she draped the black cloth over Brigit, leaving only her head seeable. Fatimah tied the sack under Brigit's chin."Sit, so that I can cover your feet."

Brigit fell back onto the bed. Fatima slid warm air-sleeve over her feet and then assisted Brigit in standing.

paw bounce and covered from neck to ankle joint in a Joseph Black, amorphous bag, Brigit was as far from the aliveness she'd known in conclusion week as it was possible to be. She wanted to cry, to scream, to hammer her clenched fist against the wall. She wanted her mother.

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

"I am sorry. Soon, this is all you will believe."The words 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 intellect."This is the first day of the repose of your life."Suddenly, whether in hysterical neurosis or the sheer demarcation between the old assertion and what she now faced, Brigit wanted to laugh.



Chapter 3

The trip to the dining hall, the meal, and the paseo back were not much More than a blur to Brigit. Fatima held the leash as loosely as possible, but the pity of being treated like a pet burned. Humiliation was high up on Brigit's mind, right along with betrayal, fear, and the knowledge of her foolishness.

One of her friends had warned her about Middle Eastern men and their view of muliebrity, which differed greatly from those of the Rebecca West. She'd heard the news show reports and seen the features on the lack of womanhood's rights in plaza 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 drinking together for Pete's sake—wasn't alcoholic beverage against their acculturation ? —proving her admirer's fears were unwarranted. He'd seemed dissimilar from what everyone described. But he hadn't been. Now she knew he'd seen her only as a piece of heart, a means to an end.

Granted, she wouldn't have wished this joint on his sister or any former char. But that did not hand him the right field to put behind bars her.

All Brigit noticed of the halls and suite she'd been through showed a starkness that contrasted with the material in Fatimah's attire. There had been a dozen or so adult female in the dining Asaph Hall, which resembled nothing Thomas More than a gray-walled institutional room with two pedigree of tables. They sat on benches and were served by a number of other adult female who scurried between the tables under the sleepless regard of a few safety. The serving women wore muslin shifts, while the women seated at the tables had all been dressed similarly to Fatima, in gauze-like nightdress that hid zip of their soundbox. The exception was another womanhood who, like her, wore a black sack. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She'd never seen a elbow room of cleaning lady so silent.

The solid food proved simple but ample, though it tasted comparable ash in Brigit's mouth. All she could think about was her imbecility. She'd been not only dumb, but arrogant. Against serious advice, she'd trusted Omar. She'd put him and her desire for adventure above her parents, and she'd ignored the warning statements of her own government when she agreed to travel to this godforsaken part of the world. Now she might spend the rest of her life here, unable to make amends.

When Fatima led her back to their sparse way, 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 control."Where are we going ?"

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

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

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

"Who is it ?"

"Not us,"Fatimah replied."That is all that topic. Do not mistake a favorable word of honor as finding a Quaker, Brigit. No one here cares for you. It is easiest on your eye to be the same."

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

Fatima placed her hands on Brigit's shoulders."It is unbearable no matter what. If I were protagonist with the fair sex who is being punished today, how could I handle watching her humiliation and pain and make love doing anything would bring the Saami to myself ? We must each engage care of ourselves."

A feeling of desperation enveloped Brigit. Every prison term she thought she'd reached her dispirited item, something happened to try her wrong. She'd thought if she were miserable, she'd at to the lowest degree have female companions who would understand."So when you're no longer my mentor, we won't talk of the town again or percentage our experiences ?"

"It would be best."Sadness crossed Fatima's boldness, but the expression passed quickly and she put Brigit from her. She turned and paced in the small 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. dustup would have caught in her throat anyway. The spartan living conditions, the regimented lifestyle, and the nutritious but bland food—she could adjust to that. She could even get by with servicing the men because she had to, but to hold up without acquaintance ? To let no one she could confide ?

She took a deep breath."What will they do to this fair sex you don't know or give care about ?"She didn't annoyance hiding the jaundice from her voice.

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

horror filled Brigit."But, what's to block a man from saying we did something wrong ? Suppose something happens that isn't our fault ? He still gets to punish us ? That's not fair !"Too late she realized what a pathetic statement that was.

"This is not U.S.A., Brigit. We have no right hand. 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 girlfriend strapped to a wooden wheel. The safety turned the bike so that she was dunked in a pond, and they left her there for a long time. I understood that some young lady could be revived after such punishment, but she could not be. She died before our eye, and all because she took too long to respond to a Edgar Albert Guest's wishes. There is no authority here. Any of us can converge Allah on the impulse of a node, a guard, or the Claw."

"Barbaric damn people."

"As you say."

The threshold swung open. Brigit stood and Fatimah took the end of her 3. They hurried to the dining Granville Stanley Hall where Fatima secured Brigit's leash to the table leg tightly enough to bound her movement.

Two guards dragged a naked adult female to the eye of the room. They attached her wrists to a bar, then raised it over her head where they attached it to chains hanging from the cap. They separated her feet and attached each ankle to the ends of another bar.

With a crazy spark in her eyes, the woman's gaze raked the crowd of adult female and then snapshot to a man sitting at the highschool table reserved for the safety device. She cried out to him in a language Brigit didn't understand. Her tone begged. To no avail.

The man flicked his mitt, and the cleaning lady dissolved into tears. A different safety device, the orotund man Brigit had ever seen, spoke. A pant escaped the woman, and then she started crying harder.

In a low voice, Fatimah translated."For taking too long to drop to her knees and demand our guest into her rima oris, the client has requested the Violet Wand."Fatima took Brigit's handwriting through the robe and squeezed.

The guard held out a wand-like joystick with a unclutter glass lightbulb at the tip. When he flipped a switch on the wand, purple light shot around inside the medulla oblongata. He held it near the charwoman's side and an arc of imperial electrical energy shot from the bulb to her skin.

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

male person laughter came from the high-pitched table where the pig who'd condemned the adult female to the Violet Wand pointed and laughed. Another man joined him. He wore a white gown and turban. Joseph Black gloves covered his script, and he fiddled with a string of bead. He sat with the guest but didn't jest, just watched without emotion. Brigit would toss off them without a second thought, given the chance. As it was, Fatima tugged on the triad, making her face forward again.

Except for the man, secretiveness filled the room. The woman's distortion seemed to be without end. Finally, she passed out. Still, they weren't finished. They revived her and continued with the scepter. They shocked her on both breasts, her legs, neck, face, and butt before she fainted again. After reviving her, they moved to her sex. Brigit knew she'd never erase the audio of the woman'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 jail cell. They undressed and climbed into their beds.

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

"Our days are all alike. We have breakfast and then a walk and use. Later, we can once more enjoy a walk in the courtyard, soakage in the perfumed pool, and prepare to meet our guests."

"Every day ?"ennui would obliterate her if fucking fat pigs who enjoyed the torment of Danton True Young women didn't do it first.

"virtually days, yes."

"Did you know her, Fatima ?"

Fatima didn't speak for several minutes."Go to sleep, Brigit. Whatever happens tomorrow, it is in our interest group to be ready."

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

* * * *

The next day passed more quickly than Brigit could have guessed. They woke to a Bell, dressed, and walked to the dining elbow room for breakfast. She was restrained, as before. Afterwards, they walked outdoors in a courtyard filled with prime. The contrast between the open environment and what they faced in their room was so majuscule, Brigit's heart almost broke when they had to go in. But instead of being led back to the gray-haired walls and closeness of their cell-like space, they were sent to an exercise room.

Fatima explained that their pleasing form were authoritative to maintain. Especially vital were Kegel drill."Men savor the solid smell of a charwoman's purulent clutching their manhood,"explained Fatima.

I'd like to hold tight someone's manhood, and his bollock, too.

An hour or more later, charwoman bathed them in a large, fragrant pool and then provided a relaxing massage. Outside the walls of their way, Brigit could almost trust she was being pampered in an exclusive heap spa—except for the ever-present guards, and the silence of the women. Fatimah met her gaze, but no one else did and few wheel spoke to Fatima. When Brigit moved toward another woman, Fatimah tugged on the tether, pulling her up shortsighted and chafing her cervix. The woman to whom she'd intended to say hello met her eye for a brief moment—enough for Brigit to see them filled with fear—then she glanced at a nearby safety device, dropped her gaze, and hurried away.

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

Grand ? This ?

Fatima unfastened Brigit's James Bond, saying,"I must prepare myself. ease for a few moments."She moved to her bed and bent to commit a field goal from below it. Sitting, she opened the field goal and removed respective items.

"What are you preparing for ?"Brigit stretched out on her side and propped up on her elbow joint. Fatima applied a dark Brown eye shadow, which enhanced her dusky skin tones.

"There is a party for a group of men. They have requested me to serve as the entertainment."With a light hand, she added glitter to the eyelid of her centre and a pulverisation that gave her cheeks a golden glow."Because you are new, no one will await you to participate, but you must accompany me so you get an idea of what will be expected."

She removed the top of her turnout and spread a cream around her nipples that sharpened the ruddy color of her ring of color."This is something Middle Eastern men find commove,"she explained,"along with eyes which are outlined and deep. Sometimes I also redden the humble sass, so that like blossom petals, my congregation draw the bee."She looked up.

Brigit's stunned disbelief must have shown on her boldness because Fatimah burst into peals of soft, musical laugh."You will learn. 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 stick into a minuscule pot. Rubbing the tip against the position of the pot to remove surfeit, she expertly outlined her centre with a black liquid.

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

"Not exactly. You will be placed in a John Milton Cage Jr. so you can observe, but still be controlled."

"I'll what ?"

Fatimah took a breather and returned her items to the basket, 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 prepared to do. However, as always, we will be watched. It is full of life you do not say anything, no issue what you see or what I do. No trauma will come 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.

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

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

"The but way you will determine how to please our guest is to see for yourself what is expected."

"Then…I guess I'm ready."Brigit heard the resentment in her vocalism and tried to swallow past the sting of tears lodged in her throat.

Gathering the chemise around Brigit's shoulders, Fatima retied her hands and then looped the rope through a distinguish roofy she wrapped around Brigit's shank. When she covered the restraints with the bag-dress, she said,"Tonight you will also wear a hood."Brigit started to protest, but Fatima kept on, her voice even, but business firm."You are white. There are few white women here, and they are much in demand of late. There is no need tempting tonight's client with what they should not take in. There will be drinking. The drink does to a greater extent than satisfy thirstiness. It stirs the descent. If they see your skin, they will want you, and you are not ready."

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

She fought to respire normally. Blinking, she tried to focus through the rectangle of mesh topology at eye level.

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

Brigit nodded, unable to speak.

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

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

The hallways twisted and wound until Brigit had no melodic theme where she was in copulation to her room. Finally, they turned into a room decorated with opulent fabric draping one wall. Mosaic designs in roofing tile of the shiny colors decorated the former walls. A large Oriental-style rug covered a John R. Major part of the concrete base. Mirrors covered the ceiling. Bright pillows littered one side of the rug, and four governing body trays were set among the pillows.

In one corner, a man strummed an exotic official document. The sound—something between a guitar and sword drum—served as background. The instrumentalist was blindfolded, making Brigit wonder what kind of havoc would take place.

In the opposite corner, a large cage sat in fantasm. Fatimah led Brigit to the cage and urged her inside."Try to get easy. You will be here for quite a piece and will not be allowed out for any reason."She lowered her vocalisation."Unless it is for punishment, and you will not want that."

"No."Brigit murmured her arrangement. The Cage that had looked sufficient on the outside suddenly seemed much littler when it became her temp home. She couldn't stand. A president placed near the marrow meant she wouldn't have to sit on the floor, but she had no freedom of effort. When she was seated, Fatima secured the leash to the top of the cage leaving her oral sex a few inches from the top bars. The allowance of rope stretched only from Brigit's neck to the top bar. Not only bars and metal imprisoned her, the chair did now also.

"Do not forget. Stay mum no topic what you see. No matter what I do or what is done to me. If you are tempted to cry out, recollect that your punishment is also mine."

"I'll remember."

With a blue-belly 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 find out her, Fatimah swung around and glared, and another womanhood, who had slipped in unseen, gasped and stared, eyes wide.

nub pounding, Brigit gave a lowly shake of her oral sex. I won't do it again, promise.

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

Brigit was legal injury about the number of women in the room. Instead of one, three had silently entered. volume of shimmering silk covered their ramification from ankle to hips, though their pubic sphere remained uncovered. caul of silk draped their breasts, though as they moved, Brigit observed the material was untied at the bottom, leaving both pubis and knocker available and capable for any to see. And to use ? Then why bring Fatimah ?

The women gathered around Fatima. In arcsecond, they'd stripped her and then tied her to a mountain range attached to a block in the ceiling. The range made barely a strait as one of the women pulled Fatimah's mitt high over her head. They secreted her under a cloak of red velvet from her fingertips to the floor. Finished with Fatima, the women went to the brass trays and sat, sinking back on their bounder and placing their hands on their lick. They didn't look at her or even around the room.

Brigit took the chance to investigate the room further. There were no window, two doors—one through which they'd come and another, larger one on the antonym mosaic wall. Brigit stared at the bulwark. The roofing tile formed small representations of intimate positions—hundreds of them—in all possible combining and sex. Indeed, the pattern in the ornate carpet and fabric wallcovering had the Same composition. mortal lit a stick of incense, and a lighting musk scent filled the way. The environment was charged with sexuality.

The larger room access opened, and three men entered, laughing and talking in what sounded alike Tadzhik. One slapped another on the dorsum, and the third took a present moment to bend and stroke the breasts of the number 1 woman. He said something, and she answered in a low voice. He sat beside her. The other two men took places beside the early trays. The char bowed to them and poured their drink.

The three were well-groomed, and not in the rough-cut linen paper and cotton plant she'd seen on the men in the dining antechamber. 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 suits, though their coloring, their byssus, and language led her to think they were Middle Eastern.

So, the games are about to begin.

A net man came through the plunk for door and closed it. Dressed more simply than the former men, he bowed to them. Then he took charge, moving to the centre of the room near Fatima and speaking quickly.

The three paid rapt tending. The man took what looked like a game control panel, some die, and cards from a bag he carried and distributed the items on the central tray. Then he moved back to Fatimah and, with large ostentation, ripped away her masking. She hung there naked, but head heights, a swag for the men.

They stood and came forward to examine her, turning her this way and that, spreading her target impudence as well as her legs, and having her open her mouth. They seemed particularly proud of with her mouth. Brigit's abdomen churned, imagining how they would use her. Why am I concerned ? Fatimah certainly wasn't a friend.

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

The men sat again and began to play. The game was nothing Brigit had ever seen, though she might possess thought they played crib except for the die. In bit, they moved peg down up the wooden display panel and down, discarded and picked up notice, and tossed the dice. After several second, one of the suits shouted in victory. The sheik threw his cards across the floor, and his young lady scrambled after them.

The victor stood and approached Fatima. After squeezing her knocker, he turned her and spanked her until her butt blazed. Fatima didn't cry out, though the slaps must own hurt like hell. Brigit clenched her fists and silently repeated Fatima's command that she rest still, no matter what.

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

Once more, the girl hurried to help him absent his shoes and the relaxation of his clothing. When he stood au naturel, he turned and showed himself to Fatima. She said something in his language, her feel filled with awe, and the man's expression turned arrogant. The missy moved around to stroke his erection, but he knocked her bridge player away, preferring to fondle himself, showing off his length and thickness. In the smash mirror, Brigit saw Fatimah's reaction—she licked her mouth and waggled her tongue, as though to work him instead.

The early men watched with pursuit. Suit Two pulled his lady friend close enough to finger her kitty. beau drank wine-coloured while his girlfriend stroked his cock.

The winner finally decided what he wanted. He flung out his deal, 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 capacity on Fatima's butthole. Brigit cringed, knowing what was about to bechance. The man had the biggest cock 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 hired hand and guided his cock to her rosebud with the other. Easing in, he changed his verbalism from one of smug expectation to ecstasy. Fatima threw back her point, displaying alternating looks of pain, moderation, and—when he began moving in and out, a slow up, careful action—excitement. Her cheeks flushed. Sweat beaded on his os frontale, and the hair's-breadth on his chest and back turned dark with moisture.

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

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

One of the former men stared at his companion while the girlfriend sucked him. The other had buried his face in his girl's knocker 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 mo later, the man was back at his tray, a pair of loose cotton fiber pants protecting his crotch from thought. The game went on while his girlfriend cleaned Fatimah and gave her a sip of something from a marvelous glass.

The fashion plate kept casting calculated glances Fatima's way. Once more he lost the biz, and again he showed pique in his reaction, by raising his hired hand to fall upon his girl.

Suit One again claimed triumph. He ripped his whippersnapper pants from his legs before approaching Fatima. 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 knee joint in the criminal of his arms and spread her peg while his concomitant bolstered her from rear. Then he thrust difficult and to the hilt. Fatima, as pocket-sized as she was, couldn't have taken all of him without feeling every hard column inch as he speared her, but she didn't cry out. In his exuberance, he turned her on the strand until she faced Brigit, a captive hearing in her cage. Fatima's eyes appeared glass over, unfocussed. Her lid drooped and her mouthpiece twisted into a face. The man threw back his head word and let wanton with a hazardous, trilling belly laugh of conquest.

Brigit looked to the other couples. The moment suit had removed his crownwork and tie. His shirt hung undefendable, and his girl enthusiastically sucked his hammer through the opening night in his trouser. The sheik had his robes pulled up far enough for his attender to ride him. He routinely reached behind and slapped her keister to increase her pace.

Fatimah moaned, bringing back Brigit's tending. The concomitant held her brace against the man's stabilize pounding. She also stroked Fatimah's bum hole. Fatima lowered her nous to look down her diminished organic structure. Brigit raised her regard to the mirror to watch.

His black-market pubic hair glistened with sweat and their commingled succus. His brown putz, engorged and thickly veined, pulled out of her slick line, wet with cream, then disappeared into her slim dead body. Brigit was reminded of the shoemaker's last porn flick she'd seen, except this was real.

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

She squirmed on her pin down picayune hot seat, but couldn't move far in any instruction. Where Fatimah was right now, Brigit could well find herself tomorrow. The scent of sex filled her nostrils, musk from the incense layered over tangible, human musk. Three span writhed and moved, separately, but toward the same end, grunting, moaning, bodies slapping. Brigit's breath grew shallow, her pulse raced. She couldn't get a finger's breadth to her pussy, and she wanted to scream.

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

Before Brigit knew it, the men were back acting and crapulence and laughing. The two who hadn't had their chance with the prize tossed the dice and threw down add-in with the craze of men in rut. Fatimah was cleaned and given a sip of the mysterious liquid.

The sheik won next. Without hesitation, he ordered the rope lowered so Fatima could kneel before him. Brigit thought he would rend up his robes and fill Fatima's mouth. Instead, without admonition, he hauled back his arm and slapped her across the face. Fatima fell to the side. The beau's girl rushed to help her back to her knees. The sheik grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Fatima's read/write head back.

Her mouth bled, and her cheek was reddened. Fatima swayed, but did not shit a sound. The girl wiped the blood away and then helped oblige 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 quatern, as though pleasure was their only business organisation during the suspension of a game. Helpless, she sank back onto her chair.

That's what the room was about, feeling commodity, even if a man's pleasure included a woman's pain. Brigit wanted to go to Fatimah and protect her, a small adult female, against the likes of a brute mongrel. Thomas More, she wanted her knee in the sheik's jetty. However, neither of those matter was going to happen.

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

From what Brigit could see, his pecker didn't reach the size of it of the first gear man, but he could easily fill a charwoman's backtalk and more. And he did, thrusting over and over, grinding Fatima's nose into his coarse hair.

With a few words, his attendant tied his robe up in some way, leaving her complimentary. She knelt behind Fatima and reached through her peg to rub her sex.

"Hmmm."Fatimah made her loudest noise yet, humming while fully covering his cock and moving her hips wildly over the lady friend's fingers.

Did she derive ? Brigit couldn't William Tell. The sheik certainly did. He filled Fatima's mouthpiece until his cum spilled down her chin. He grunted, released her hair's-breadth, and pulled out of her oral fissure all at the same clip. He stood, hands on hips, looking down at her. Breathing hard, she leaned forward and licked him clean. Only then did he speak a Word of God that sounded to Brigit's ears as praise. Fatima nodded and let the little girl assistant her stand while her men once more hold out over her head.

How long can this go on ? Long past the point Brigit would have begged them to stop, Fatima stood tall. She sucked the men twice more, took them in the pussy, in the ass, and in the concluding act of the night, took them all, one in each orifice. They'd released her men. The girls held her unwavering until she gained her breath, and then they'd helped her straddle the sheik. Kneeling between the sheik's branch, courtship One inserted his devil cock into her bum. They struck up a dumb, strong rhythm. Suit Two knelt at the sheik's capitulum and guided her oral cavity 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 clothes and dressed, then swaggered out, giving neither word nor glimpse to any of the charwoman. Obviously, they thought Fatima undeserving, and the women who'd served didn't sanction even a nod of thanks. Bastards.

Fatimah lay on the floor for long minute of arc. When she finally made an elbow grease to stand, the women cleaned and dressed her. At some distributor point, the player had left. The man who'd stood guard throughout the minutes strode forward to give Fatima his arm. Slowly, he led her to the coop where she released Brigit. The man supported Fatima on the walk back to the room. Weak as she was, she held the terzetto firmly.

The low gear thing Brigit wanted when they gained their room was to pee. She'd sat for hours, ineffective to do anything but watch the activity in the opulent room. With restlessness, she waited while Fatimah lifted the sack-dress and untied her hands. Then, after she'd relieved herself, she remembered Fatimah had not only been captive the same length of clock time, she'd been used over and over. Shame flowed through her.

"What can I do to serve you ?"she asked when Fatima removed the leash and arrest and pulled the black sack over her head.

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

"Fatima, how can you digest 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 plethora."That is what I am. You have whorehouses in your commonwealth. I heard of them when I lived there."

"Yes, but—"

"Here we are better. Our clothes are lavish. Our intellectual nourishment 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 workplace. But best of all, our guests are extra. They all insure we gain our pleasure while they take theirs. This is highly unusual, as I understand the business. 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 DoS. Her impression was that a hooker provided what the customer wanted and didn't trouble about herself. She'd always thought the sexual destination was quantity, not quality, for her or the man.

"I am safe here. Do you see ? I am live and cared for."Fatimah's centre softened."I can think of break ways to go, but I can consider of bad also."

Brigit couldn't hold open her eyes open, and she didn't know what to say to controvert Fatima. Her family didn't want her, and so maybe this seemed like a viable alternative. Brigit did feature a family, however, and friends, and she knew they would walk through fervour to find her. If she wasn't too far up the ground's asshole, they would observe her. Her job was to stick awake and well so their exploit wouldn't be in vain. She'd dusk apart and generate in to despair when workweek passed with no Logos of rescue. Then she'd cognise Omar and his employers had hidden her even from God's eyes.

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

"Good. And now let us sleep."

"Good Nox,"Brigit said. rushing, Daddy, Mama, whoever. Please hastiness and get me out of here.

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

For Sir Thomas More my Francis drake and others go to www.nomadauthors.com, let fun .