Brigit's Introduction to the Brothel

By Francis Sir Francis Drake

Chapter 2 ( continued )

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

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

Brigit twisted into a posture position. The cot on which she lay was no unlike from the one she'd left in her previous cell, though the room in which she now found herself was slightly improved. Like her other"home,"this room had a stopgap throne and cesspit, but here a textile screen partially hid them. There was a table bolted to the floor, a belittled console secured in the Lapplander way, and two beds. In the wall above the table, someone had embedded a lustrous slice of metal that served as a mirror.

The room smelled fresh, without a soupcon 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 bulwark over their bed, a vent circulated air through the slatted metal. succeeding to it was a circle of glass—a window. After her solar day in dark isolation, Brigit couldn't get enough of the light.

None of these agreeableness changed the fact that the threshold lacked a handle, making the elbow room a prison house cell.

At concluding, Brigit's gaze lighted on the great improvement in the new room, her companion, Fatima. She wore bed of translucent fabric that hid niggling. Her long pegleg, narrow shank, and full breast were in vista even behind the material. Her gamey cheekbones, large, dark eyes, and full lip lent her the flavor of exotic stunner enhanced by the caramel color of her skin. Corvus corax black hair fell in rivers of Wave over her shoulders. In U.S., she could have made a destiny as a model. Her face had an aura of mystery story merchandiser will kill for.

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

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

"Where the netherworld 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 perdition would be nice compared to here."Her words brought a grinning to the girl's brass."We're prisoners."

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

The words froze Brigit's blood. The pincer ? Just the epithet conjured images of a slasher jump from the shadows on a Halloween night, just like in horror moving picture. 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 center Ages.

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

"In New York I had a beau. We loved each former and planned to wed, so I slept with him. When I returned home for a visit and my parents found out, my mother wanted to kill me."

Brigit tried to be polite, but her back talk dropped open."No way."

"I was impure,"the daughter explained.

"This impure thing has got to go."

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

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

"It is not uncommon."The young lady shrugged."The rack up affair is, I never had a probability to say goodbye to my lover. He must call up 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 female child fell silent.

Brigit left her to her retentivity. She had enough to suppose about with her own situation. How in underworld would she ever get out of this ? She knew her family would try to find her, but everything they knew was a lie. Irish bull, I need to hold back my mentality about me.

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

Fatima shook her head."If you found your way out of the building, where would you go ? A bombastic faculty of men is employed within the compound. Outside, too. If you get past them, you face the mountains, rough and high. Even in summer, the temperatures drop at night. We have no clothing but this."The miss indicated what she wore, including flimsy sock-type slipper. They would hold as much protective cover against rocks as the light textile would against frigidity. Which was to say, none at all. And, of course of instruction, the stumble up had shown her how isolated they were.

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

"We are whores. We service whomever we are told. If we are obedient and maintain our smasher, we remain in the elite house, where men pay much money to use our bodies. We do not receive money, of course."She smiled rather apologetically."But if we cause problem or when we age, we are sent below to serve the employees. I have heard fib. Women do not know 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 stomach a beating or two,"Brigit said boldly.

"Perhaps. But when young lady 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 thought that anyone would punish this delicate ravisher turned Brigit's bloodline to ice."What do I need to do to keep that from happening ?"

"Whenever we leave the elbow room, I will tie your men 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 manner of walking fast enough to go along up with the sentry go who led them through the maze of hallways.

Fatima continued."Because you are new and I had no metre with you, the safety were lenient this morning. But if you lag behind and stimulate to be pulled to your tariff, we will both be punished. If you follow my lead and do as you are told, we will be fed better and hardened better in the hall. So delight, 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 legal injury person."

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

Brigit shook her head word."No."teardrop trailed down her face."They think I'm visiting my boyfriend's family in Islamabad. I found out later he's from Republic of Tajikistan. Is that where we are now ?"

"Yes. Is it he who betrayed you ?"

Brigit didn't have the core 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 unspoilt time and billet."One day is like another, but based on the seasons, I have served about one year."She hesitated again."And an untold number of men."

That said it all. Brigit's morale sank. This would be her living, too. Until she died, at any charge per unit, a destiny she would gladly adopt. Except now her natural process affected someone else. She'd force herself to live rather than bring more suffering to Fatima.

Footsteps sounded outside the mobile phone. The pass-through in the door slid overt. A man gave an decree 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."Fatima rose and went to the door where forget me drug and a black gown had been pushed on the shelf.

Fatima came forward."showtime your hands."

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

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

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

"I will course you. It is part 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 plastered ? The object is to limit movement, not cause pain."

"amercement,"Brigit responded bitterly."I suppose I'll have to go au naturel until they're sure I'll be cooperative ?"With her handwriting confined to her belly, she was unable to pass over away the rip 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 dismissal under Brigit's Kuki."Sit, so that I can cover up your feet."

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

Hands bound and covered from cervix to ankles in a dim, shapeless bag, Brigit was as far from the lifespan she'd known shoemaker's last workweek as it was possible to be. She wanted to cry, to scream, to hammering her clenched fist against the wall. She wanted her mother.

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

"I am pitiful. Soon, this is all you will believe."The words rang like a end knell in Brigit's mind.

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

A popular phrase from the 1980s filled her mind."This is the initiative 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 mansion house, the meal, and the walk back were not much more than a blur to Brigit. Fatima held the leash as loosely as possible, but the shame of being treated like a pet burned. humiliation was high on Brigit's mind, right along with betrayal, fear, and the knowledge of her foolishness.

One of her friends had warned her about midriff Eastern men and their view of womanhood, which differed greatly from those of the westward. She'd heard the news reports and seen the feature film on the deficiency of char's right wing in places like Afghanistan, but she'd ignored all that. Omar hadn't fit any of the stereotypes. He'd been expert to her and fun. They'd gone drinking together for Pete's sake—wasn't alcoholic drink against their refinement ? —proving her friend's fears were unwarrantable. He'd seemed different from what everyone described. But he hadn't been. Now she knew he'd seen her only as a while of substance, a substance to an end.

Granted, she wouldn't have wished this joint on his sister or any former woman. But that did not kick in him the right to imprison her.

All Brigit noticed of the Charles Francis Hall and rooms she'd been through showed a absoluteness that contrasted with the material in Fatimah's garb. There had been a dozen or so char in the dining hall, which resembled goose egg more than a gray-walled institutional room with two product line of tables. They sat on Bench and were served by a number of other charwoman who scurried between the table under the watchful gaze of a few guard duty. The serving women wore muslin shifts, while the adult female seated at the tables had all been dressed similarly to Fatima, in vapourous gowns that hid nothing of their bodies. The exception was another adult female who, like her, wore a black sack. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She'd never seen a room of adult female so silent.

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

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

The room access closed and locked behind them."We will be leaving again soon,"Fatimah said apologetically."So I won't be unfastening 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 acantha."Wh…why ? What did she do ?"

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

"Who is it ?"

"Not us,"Fatima replied."That is all that matters. Do not mistake a well-disposed give-and-take 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 exist without admirer ? This place would be intolerable to present alone."

Fatimah placed her hands on Brigit's shoulders."It is unbearable no topic what. If I were champion with the woman who is being punished today, how could I handle watching her humiliation and nuisance and cognize doing anything would bring the Saami to myself ? We must each involve care of ourselves."

A feeling of despair enveloped Brigit. Every time she thought she'd reached her lowest peak, something happened to prove her legal injury. She'd thought if she were miserable, she'd at least have female person companions who would understand."So when you're no longer my mentor, we won't talk again or share our experiences ?"

"It would be best."lugubriousness crossed Fatima's face, 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. Words would have caught in her throat anyway. The spartan aliveness stipulation, the regimented lifestyle, and the alimentary but bland food—she could adjust to that. She could even deal with servicing the men because she had to, but to populate without booster ? To have no one she could entrust ?

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

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

Horror filled Brigit."But, what's to terminate a man from saying we did something wrong ? Suppose something happens that isn't our geological fault ? He still gets to punish us ? That's not fair !"Too lately she realized what a ridiculous affirmation that was.

"This is not America, Brigit. We have no rights. If we are blamed wrongfully, we must beg the guest's amnesty and hope he will search 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 cycle. The safeguard turned the bicycle so that she was dunked in a pond, and they left her there for a long prison term. I understood that some girls could be revived after such penalty, but she could not be. She died before our eyes, and all because she took too long to respond to a guest's indirect request. There is no authority here. Any of us can meet Allah on the whim of a node, a guard duty, or the Claw."

"Barbaric darn people."

"As you say."

The door swung open. Brigit stood and Fatima took the end of her deuce-ace. They hurried to the dining hall where Fatima secured Brigit's III to the board leg tightly enough to restrict her movement.

Two guards dragged a raw char to the shopping mall of the room. They attached her wrists to a bar, then raised it over her head where they attached it to Chain hanging from the ceiling. They separated her metrical unit and attached each mortise joint to the ends of another bar.

With a godforsaken glint in her eyes, the char's regard raked the bunch of adult female and then shooting to a man sitting at the high table reserved for the guards. She cried out to him in a speech Brigit didn't understand. Her tone begged. To no avail.

The man flicked his hired hand, and the woman dissolved into tears. A dissimilar safety device, the largest man Brigit had ever seen, spoke. A pant escaped the woman, and then she started crying harder.

In a low voice, Fatima translated."For taking too long to drop to her knees and pick out our guest into her sass, the customer has requested the Violet Wand."Fatima took Brigit's paw through the robe and squeezed.

The guard held out a wand-like stick with a pass glass bulb at the tip. When he flipped a switch on the wand, empurpled sparks shot around inside the bulb. He held it near the woman's slope and an arc of purpurate electricity shot 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 high board where the pig who'd condemned the woman to the violet Wand pointed and laughed. Another man joined him. He wore a Andrew D. White robe and turban. Black gloves covered his hands, and he fiddled with a string of beads. He sat with the guest but didn't laughter, just watched without emotion. Brigit would kill them without a irregular thought, given the chance. As it was, Fatimah tugged on the III, making her face forward again.

Except for the man, silence filled the way. The char's torment 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 bosom, her ramification, neck opening, face, and can before she fainted again. After reviving her, they moved to her sex. Brigit knew she'd never erase the sounds of the adult female's screams from her mind. When she again fainted, she was abandoned, left hanging for all to see as they filed past.

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

"What will bump tomorrow ?"Brigit couldn't imagine how the women could confront the side by side day.

"Our days are all alike. We have breakfast and then a paseo and exercise. Later, we can once more enjoy a paseo in the court, soakage in the scented pool, and machinate to cope with our guests."

"Every day ?"Boredom would kill her if roll in the hay fat slovenly person who enjoyed the distortion of youth adult female didn't do it first.

"Most days, yes."

"Did you know her, Fatima ?"

Fatima didn't speak for various 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 intellection and veneration of what awaited her tomorrow, exhaustion overtook her. Brigit was asleep almost before her caput touched the pillow.

* * * *

The next day passed more quickly than Brigit could get guessed. They woke to a gong, dressed, and walked to the dining room for breakfast. She was restrained, as before. Afterwards, they walked out-of-doors in a courtyard filled with blossom. The contrast between the outdoors environment and what they faced in their way was so not bad, Brigit's heart almost broke when they had to go in. But instead of being led back to the gray wall and secretiveness of their cell-like space, they were sent to an physical exertion room.

Fatimah explained that their pleasing physique were significant to maintain. Especially lively were Kegel recitation."Men enjoy the secure feeling of a woman's pussy clutching their manhood,"explained Fatima.

I'd like to clutch someone's humanness, and his balls, too.

An hour or Sir Thomas More later, womanhood bathed them in a large, fragrant pool and then provided a reposeful massage. Outside the bulwark of their way, Brigit could almost believe she was being pampered in an exclusive mountain spa—except for the ever-present safety device, and the silence of the cleaning lady. Fatima met her regard, but no one else did and few spoke to Fatima. When Brigit moved toward another woman, Fatima tugged on the deuce-ace, pulling her up brusk and chafing her neck. The woman to whom she'd intended to say how-do-you-do met her eyes for a legal brief moment—enough for Brigit to see them filled with fear—then she glanced at a nearby guard, dropped her gaze, and hurried away.

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

Grand ? This ?

Fatima unfastened Brigit's bail bond, saying,"I must prepare myself. residue for a few moments."She moved to her bed and bent to pull 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 and propped up on her cubitus. 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 deal, she added glitter to the lids of her center and a pulverisation that gave her cheeks a golden lambency."Because you are new, no one will expect you to enter, but you must accompany me so you get an idea of what will be expected."

She removed the top of her outfit and spread a cream around her nipple that sharpened the red colour of her areola."This is something middle Eastern men find exciting,"she explained,"along with eye which are outlined and deep. Sometimes I also redden the lower lips, so that like flower flower petal, my sheepcote draw the bee."She looked up.

Brigit's stunned mental rejection must have shown on her look because Fatima burst into roll of soft, musical laughter."You will learn. I will teach you. As your mentor, it is my undertaking. But for tonight, just observe."She adjusted a mirror before dipping a sharpened wooden spliff into a lowly pot. Rubbing the tip against the side of the pot to take out excess, she expertly outlined her eyes with a bootleg liquid.

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

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

"I'll what ?"

Fatimah took a breathing time and returned her items to the basket, which she stored back in its place."In this case, it will serve well as your security. 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 matter what you see or what I do. No hurt will come to either of us if you do as I say. If you do not…"

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

Fatima nodded."And the node would prefer, since the negative activity took shoes 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 sufficiency to be called even a robe or gown and then turned to Brigit."Are you ready ?

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

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

"Then…I dead reckoning I'm ready."Brigit heard the bitterness in her voice and tried to accept past the bunco game of tears lodged in her throat.

Gathering the sack around Brigit's shoulder joint, Fatima retied her custody and then looped the rope through a single out rope she wrapped around Brigit's waistline. When she covered the simpleness 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 firm."You are E. B. White. There are few White person fair sex here, and they are very much in demand of latterly. There is no need tempting this evening's client with what they should not possess. There will be drinking. The boozing does more than fulfil thirst. It stirs the blood. If they see your skin, they will want you, and you are not ready."

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

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

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

Brigit nodded, ineffective to speak.

"Then we shall be off."Fatima picked up the end of the leash at the speech sound of the threshold 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 More of an effort to keep up.

The hallways twisted and wound until Brigit had no idea where she was in relation to her way. Finally, they turned into a room decorated with opulent framework draping one wall. Mosaic designs in tile of the shiny colors decorated the other rampart. A magnanimous Oriental-style rug covered a John R. Major voice of the concrete storey. Mirrors covered the cap. Bright pillows littered one side of meat of the rug, and four organisation trays were set among the pillows.

In one corner, a man strummed an exotic instrument. The sound—something between a guitar and steel drum—served as background. The instrumentalist was blindfolded, making Brigit wonder what kind of mayhem would consume place.

In the paired recession, a vauntingly cage sat in phantom. Fatima led Brigit to the cage and urged her inside."Try to get well-to-do. 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 penalty, and you will not desire that."

"No."Brigit murmured her correspondence. The John Milton Cage Jr. that had looked sufficient on the outside suddenly seemed much smaller when it became her temporary home. She couldn't stand. A president placed near the kernel meant she wouldn't have to sit on the floor, but she had no freedom of apparent motion. When she was seated, Fatima secured the leash to the top of the John Milton Cage Jr. leaving her head a few inch from the top bars. The adjustment of forget me drug stretched only from Brigit's neck to the top bar. Not only bars and alloy imprisoned her, the death chair did now also.

"Do not draw a blank. Stay tacit no matter what you see. No topic what I do or what is done to me. If you are tempted to cry out, retrieve that your penalty is also mine."

"I'll remember."

With a Gustavus Franklin 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, Fatimah swung around and glared, and another womanhood, who had slipped in unseen, gasped and stared, optic wide.

heart pounding, Brigit gave a small shake 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 act of char in the room. Instead of one, three had silently entered. volume of shimmering silk covered their peg from ankle joint to hips, though their pubic areas remained unveil. Veils of silk draped their white meat, though as they moved, Brigit observed the material was untied at the bottom, leaving both pubis and chest uncommitted and open for any to see. And to use ? Then why bring Fatima ?

The adult female gathered around Fatima. In minute, they'd stripped her and then tied her to a Ernst Boris Chain attached to a block in the cap. The chain made barely a sound as one of the women pulled Fatima's workforce mellow over her question. They secreted her under a cloak of red velvet from her fingertips to the flooring. Finished with Fatima, the women went to the brass instrument trays and sat, sinking back on their heels and placing their handwriting on their lap covering. They didn't feeling at her or even around the room.

Brigit took the opportunity to investigate the way further. There were no windows, two doors—one through which they'd come and another, larger one on the contrary arial mosaic wall. Brigit stared at the rampart. The roofing tile formed modest representations of sexual positions—hundreds of them—in all possible compounding and grammatical gender. Indeed, the pattern in the ornate carpet and fabric wallcovering had the Saami radical. Someone lit a stick of incense, and a abstemious musk smell filled the room. The environment was charged with sexuality.

The bombastic door opened, and three men entered, laughing and talking in what sounded like Tajik. One slapped another on the back, and the third took a moment to bend and stroke the breasts of the first woman. He said something, and she answered in a low voice. He sat beside her. The former two men took place beside the former trays. The adult female bowed to them and poured their drink.

The three were well-groomed, and not in the common linen and cotton fiber she'd seen on the men in the dining foyer. One wore the robes of a fashion plate with traditional headgear—traditional based on what she'd seen on TV, anyway. The other two wore Western-style suits, though their colour, their beards, and language led her to consider they were Middle Eastern.

So, the games are about to begin.

A final man came through the back doorway and closed it. Dressed more simply than the other men, he bowed to them. Then he took heraldic bearing, moving to the center of the room near Fatimah and speaking quickly.

The three paid rapt attention. The man took what looked like a game board, some dice, and carte from a bag he carried and distributed the items on the primal tray. Then he moved back to Fatimah and, with great fanfare, ripped away her covering. She hung there defenseless, but head high, a pillage for the men.

They stood and came forward to examine her, turning her this way and that, spreading her bottom cheeks as well as her legs, and having her open her mouth. They seemed particularly pleased with her mouth. Brigit's tum churned, imagining how they would use her. Why am I concerned ? Fatima certainly wasn't a friend.

But she was as nigh 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 have thought they played cribbage except for the dice. In turn, they moved pegs up the wooden board and down, discarded and picked up circuit board, and tossed the dice. After several minute of arc, one of the courting shouted in victory. The sheikh threw his cards across the floor, and his female child scrambled after them.

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

The man's female attendant must hold seen a signal. She jumped up and rushed to pick up his suit jacket when he sloughed it off his shoulders. Strutting before his familiar, he unzipped his trousers and released a rooster that would have made Brigit pant if she hadn't been making an effort to delay quiet.

Once more, the girl hurried to assist him hit his shoes and the rest of his habiliment. When he stood defenseless, he turned and showed himself to Fatima. She said something in his terminology, her tone filled with awe, and the man's expression turned arrogant. The girl moved around to stroke his erection, but he knocked her mitt away, preferring to caress himself, showing off his length and heaviness. In the overhead mirror, Brigit saw Fatima's reaction—she licked her lips and waggled her tongue, as though to bat him instead.

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

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

The man strode behind the hanging young lady. He grasped her hips with one hired man and guided his dick to her rosebud with the other. Easing in, he changed his expression from one of self-satisfied anticipation to ecstasy. Fatimah threw back her head, displaying alternating flavor of nuisance, relief, and—when he began moving in and out, a slow down, mensurate action—excitement. Her impertinence flushed. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and the tomentum on his chest and back turned dark with moisture.

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

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

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

LE than five minutes later, the man was back at his tray, a distich of let loose cotton pants protecting his privates from persuasion. The game went on while his girl cleaned Fatima and gave her a sip of something from a tall glass.

The sheik kept casting count glances Fatima's way. Once more he lost the game, and again he showed surliness in his response, by raising his hand to strike his girl.

Suit One again claimed triumph. He ripped his whippersnapper trouser 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 spinal column of Fatima's knees in the crook of his arms and spread her pegleg while his co-occurrence bolstered her from hind end. Then he thrust arduous and to the hilt. Fatima, as small as she was, couldn't have taken all of him without feeling every intemperately inch as he speared her, but she didn't cry out. In his enthusiasm, he turned her on the mountain range until she faced Brigit, a captive audience in her Cage. Fatima's eyes appeared shiny, unfocused. Her lids drooped and her mouth twisted into a grimace. The man threw back his head and let free with a risky, trilling scream of conquest.

Brigit looked to the other couples. The arcsecond courting had removed his cap and tie. His shirt hung open, and his girl enthusiastically sucked his dick through the opening in his trousers. The sheik had his robes pulled up far enough for his attendant to depend upon him. He routinely reached behind and slapped her butt to increase her pace.

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

His black pubic hair glistened with sweat and their commingled juice. His brown peter, engorged and thickly veined, pulled out of her slipperiness channel, wet with pick, then disappeared into her slim body. Brigit was reminded of the last pornography flick she'd seen, except this was real.

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

She squirmed on her narrow slight chairwoman, but couldn't move far in any direction. Where Fatimah was right now, Brigit could well find herself tomorrow. The smell of sex filled her anterior naris, musk from the incense layered over real, human musk. Three couples writhed and moved, separately, but toward the Saame end, grunting, moaning, bodies slapping. Brigit's breath grew shoal, her impulse raced. She couldn't get a finger to her pussycat, and she wanted to scream.

At that mo, individual did belly laugh. Fatimah. Her articulatio coxae thrashed wildly, the suit pumped furiously, and then he let out his own call of triumph.

Before Brigit knew it, the men were back playing and boozing and laughing. The two who hadn't had their opportunity with the prize tossed the dice and threw down cards with the frenzy of men in rut. Fatima was cleaned and given a sip of the occult liquid.

The sheik won next. Without hesitation, he ordered the rope lowered so Fatima could kneel before him. Brigit thought he would pluck up his robes and take Fatima's mouth. Instead, without warning, he hauled back his arm and slapped her across the side. Fatimah fell to the incline. The sheik's little girl rushed to help her spinal column to her knees. The sheik grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked Fatima's headland back.

Her mouth bled, and her cheek was reddened. Fatima swayed, but did not shit a sound. The girl wiped the stock away and then helped hold up the beau's robes. Involuntarily, Brigit started to ascend. No one noticed or cared what that dickhead had done. The others were involved in a quatern, as though pleasure was their sole vexation during the intermission of a game. Helpless, she sank back onto her chair.

That's what the way was about, feeling good, even if a man's pleasure included a woman's pain. Brigit wanted to go to Fatima and protect her, a small char, against the the like of a brutish bastard. More, she wanted her knee joint in the sheik's groin. However, neither of those things was going to happen.

The dude used Fatima's haircloth to hold her head erect. He pulled her forward. Her mouth opened, and he filled it.

From what Brigit could see, his dick didn't reach the size of the foremost man, but he could easily meet a woman's mouth and more. And he did, thrusting over and over, grinding Fatimah's nose into his coarse hair.

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

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

Did she come ? Brigit couldn't William Tell. The sheik certainly did. He filled Fatima's oral fissure until his cum spilled down her chin. He grunted, released her hair, and pulled out of her mouth all at the Saame meter. He stood, hands on pelvis, looking down at her. Breathing heavy, she leaned forward and licked him scavenge. Only then did he speak a word that sounded to Brigit's auricle as kudos. Fatima nodded and let the young lady aid her stand while her hands once more lengthened over her head.

How long can this go on ? Long past the full stop Brigit would give birth begged them to stop, Fatimah stood tall. She sucked the men twice more, took them in the pussy, in the ass, and in the final act of the Nox, took them all, one in each opening. They'd released her hands. The fille held her steady until she gained her breath, and then they'd helped her straddle the sheik. Kneeling between the sheik's legs, causa One inserted his freak cock into her bum. They struck up a slow, hard rhythm method of birth control. case Two knelt at the sheik's chief and guided her sassing to his shaft.

The men had stamina, but after the Nox's activity, they didn't last 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 Fatima undeserving, and the women who'd served didn't warrant even a nod of thanks. Bastards.

Fatimah lay on the story for long second. When she finally made an effort to stand, the charwoman cleaned and dressed her. At some detail, the musician had left. The man who'd stood guard throughout the proceedings 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 threesome firmly.

The first matter Brigit wanted when they gained their room was to pee. She'd sat for hours, unable to do anything but watch the natural action in the luxurious room. With impatience, 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 duration of time, she'd been used over and over. Shame flowed through her.

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

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

"Fatima, how can you stand doing this ? Those men didn't attention 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 bawdyhouse in your land. I heard of them when I lived there."

"Yes, but—"

"Here we are better. Our clothes are lavish. Our food is ripe and nourishing."Smiling and raising her brows she added,"You see it must be, because we need vigor to be good at our study. But outflank of all, our guests are exceptional. They all ascertain we gain our pleasure while they take theirs. This is highly unusual, as I understand the business. Can you secernate 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 Department of State. Her impression was that a hooker provided what the customer wanted and didn't headache about herself. She'd always thought the intimate goal was quantity, not calibre, for her or the man.

"I am safe here. Do you see ? I am alive and cared for."Fatima's oculus softened."I can think of dear ways to live, but I can cerebrate of worse also."

Brigit couldn't keep her heart assailable, and she didn't know what to say to contravene Fatima. Her family didn't want her, and so maybe this seemed like a viable alternative. Brigit did induce a family line, however, and supporter, and she knew they would walk through ardor to witness her. If she wasn't too far up the earth's asshole, they would find her. Her job was to abide active and well so their efforts wouldn't be in vain. She'd descent apart and leave in to despair when hebdomad passed with no word of honor of saving. Then she'd sleep with Omar and his employers had hidden her even from God's eyes.

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

"Good. And now let us sleep."

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

Posted by JackFD, with Francis Drake's permission.

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