Brigit's foundation to the Brothel

By Francis Sir Francis Drake

Chapter 2 ( continued )

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

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

Brigit twisted into a sitting view. The cot on which she lay was no different 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 makeshift toilet and sink, but here a textile screen partially hid them. There was a board bolted to the level, a little locker secured in the same way, and two beds. In the wall above the board, someone had embedded a shiny piece of metal that served as a mirror.

The elbow room smelled tonic, without a speck 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 paries over their beds, a vent circulated air through the slatted metal. future to it was a lap of glass—a window. After her days in iniquity closing off, Brigit couldn't get enough of the light.

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

At endure, Brigit's gaze lighted on the biggest improvement in the new room, her companion, Fatima. She wore layers of semitransparent textile that hid little. Her long legs, specialize waistline, and replete breasts were in eyeshot even behind the fabric. Her senior high school cheekbones, with child, dark eyes, and good lips lent her the aspect of alien beauty enhanced by the caramel gloss of her skin. Raven black hair fell in rivers of waves over her berm. In America, she could give birth made a fortune as a model. Her boldness had an aura of mystery merchants will kill for.

The girl—for she looked younger than Brigit's 19 years—stared with unabashed frankness.

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

"Where the hell is here ?"

"Nowhere you want to be."

No cocksucker."You speak English."

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

"I'm from San Francisco."

"Nice place."The fille looked wistful.

"Yeah, it is, but Hades would be nice compared to here."Her Holy Scripture brought a smile to the miss's typeface."We're prisoners."

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

The words froze Brigit's blood. The Claw ? Just the name conjured images of a slasher jumping from the phantom on a Halloween dark, just like in horror photographic film. One affair was for surely, Claw or not, she had no design of dying in some dungeon, a prisoner of men with value culled from the Middle Ages.

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

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

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

"I was impure,"the girl explained.

"This impure thing has got to go."

"My Father-God stopped her, saying if they sold me, they would at least make a little money off my sin."

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

"It is not uncommon."The fille shrugged."The worst thing is, I never had a chance to say cheerio to my buff. He must imagine 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 young lady fell silent.

Brigit left her to her memories. She had enough to suppose about with her own situation. How in hell would she ever get out of this ? She knew her household would try to find her, but everything they knew was a lie. poop, I need to keep my humour 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 construction, where would you go ? A expectant stave of men is employed within the chemical compound. Outside, too. If you get past them, you face the quite a little, rough and high. Even in summer, the temperatures drop curtain at night. We have no clothing but this."The lady friend indicated what she wore, including flimsy sock-type carpet slipper. They would give as much protection against rocks as the fall cloth would against cold. Which was to say, none at all. And, of line, the trip up had shown her how stray they were.

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

"We are whores. We service whomever we are told. If we are obedient and sustain our lulu, we remain in the elite sign of the zodiac, where men pay lots money to use our bodies. We do not take in money, of course."She smiled rather apologetically."But if we cause hassle or when we age, we are sent below to service the employees. I have heard tales. Women do not hold up 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 young woman first arrive, they are given a wise man. I am yours. If you refuse to obey, they will penalize you. And, they will punish me, for not teaching you properly."

"What ?"The sentiment that anyone would punish this delicate sweetheart turned Brigit's blood to ice."What do I involve to do to hold open that from happening ?"

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

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

Fatima continued."Because you are new and I had no clip with you, the guards were indulgent this morning. 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 treated better in the Marguerite Radclyffe 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 untimely person."

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

Brigit shook her principal."No."rent trailed down her boldness."They think I'm visiting my swain's family 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 heart to answer."Fatima, how long have you been here ?"

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

That said it all. Brigit's team spirit sank. This would be her life history, too. Until she died, at any rate, a fortune she would gladly embrace. Except now her actions affected someone else. She'd force herself to hold out rather than bring more suffering to Fatima.

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

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

"It is time for me to set up you to eat."Fatima rose and went to the door where forget me drug and a black robe had been pushed on the shelf.

Fatima came forward."number one your hands."

Brigit jerked back."No."weeping stung her optic. She would never crap it, never endure in this…whatever inferno this was.

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

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

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

Reluctantly, Brigit stood and held out her hired man. With efficiency, Fatima bound them, then wrapped the forget me drug around Brigit's waist and secured it."Is that too miserly ? The object is to restrict apparent motion, not cause pain."

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

Silently, she draped the black material over Brigit, leaving only her point visible. Fatima tied the sack under Brigit's chin."Sit, so that I can cut across your feet."

Brigit fell back onto the bed. Fatima slid lovesome socks over her human foot and then assisted Brigit in standing.

Hands bound and covered from neck to ankle in a dim, formless bag, Brigit was as far from the life she'd known in conclusion week as it was possible to be. She wanted to cry, to scream, to pound her fist against the wall. She wanted her mother.

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

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

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

A popular set phrase from the 1980s filled her mind."This is the 1st day of the eternal sleep of your life."Suddenly, whether in hysteria or the sheer contrast between the old avouchment and what she now faced, Brigit wanted to laugh.



Chapter 3

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

One of her friends had warned her about centre Eastern men and their horizon of fair sex, which differed greatly from those of the West. She'd heard the news written report and seen the features on the lack of char's rights in berth 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 culture ? —proving her friend's fears 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 piece of essence, a means to an end.

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

All Brigit noticed of the hall and elbow room she'd been through showed a starkness that contrasted with the material in Fatima's attire. There had been a dozen or so women in the dining Charles Martin Hall, which resembled nothing to a greater extent than a gray-walled institutional room with two lines of mesa. They sat on benches and were served by a number of former charwoman who scurried between the tables under the alert regard of a few safeguard. The serving women wore muslin teddy, while the women seated at the mesa had all been dressed similarly to Fatima, in see-through gowns that hid nothing of their soundbox. The exception was another charwoman who, like her, wore a black pouch. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She'd never seen a room of women so silent.

The intellectual nourishment proved simpleton but sizeable, though it tasted the likes of ash in Brigit's mouth. All she could think about was her stupidity. She'd been not only obtuse, but self-important. Against honest advice, she'd trusted Omar. She'd put him and her desire for dangerous undertaking above her parents, and she'd ignored the cautionary program line of her own politics when she agreed to move to this godforsaken part of the world. Now she might drop the rest of her liveliness here, ineffectual to make amends.

When Fatimah led her back to their sparse way, a adult female stopped them and spoke in a low voice.

The room access 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 announce the reason or they might not."Fatima leaned toward the mirror and adjusted her earrings. Her movement were casual, but Brigit spied how her finger trembled.

"Who is it ?"

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

"But, how can you endure without champion ? This position would be unendurable to face alone."

Fatima placed her men on Brigit's shoulders."It is unbearable no matter what. If I were champion with the cleaning woman who is being punished today, how could I handle watching her mortification and pain and know doing anything would bring the same to myself ? We must each hire maintenance of ourselves."

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

"It would be best."Sadness crossed Fatima's fount, 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 space,"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 living atmospheric condition, the regiment life style, 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 inhabit without friends ? To have no one she could desire ?

She took a cryptic breather."What will they do to this woman you don't know or deal about ?"She didn't bother hiding the gall from her voice.

Fatima cast her a troubled coup d'oeil and then turned away."She most in all probability upset a Edgar Albert Guest, so it is his conclusion. We won't know what he chose until we arrive."

repulsion filled Brigit."But, what's to stop 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 tardily she realized what a ridiculous statement that was.

"This is not America, Brigit. We have no rights. 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."

Fatimah shrugged."I once saw a girl strapped to a wooden wheel. The guards turned the steering wheel so that she was dunked in a pool, and they left her there for a long sentence. I understood that some girls could be revived after such punishment, but she could not be. She died before our eyes, and all because she took too longsighted to respond to a Edgar Albert Guest's wishes. There is no self-assurance here. Any of us can meet Allah on the whimsy of a client, a safety device, or the Claw."

"Barbaric damn people."

"As you say."

The door swung open. Brigit stood and Fatima took the end of her trio. They hurried to the dining hall where Fatimah secured Brigit's leash to the tabular array leg tightly enough to restrain her movement.

Two guards dragged a raw charwoman to the marrow of the room. They attached her wrists to a bar, then raised it over her head where they attached it to mountain range hanging from the ceiling. They separated her feet and attached each ankle to the death of another bar.

With a wild glint in her center, the adult female's gaze raked the gang of women and then barb to a man sitting at the high table reserved for the sentry duty. 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 woman dissolved into tears. A different precaution, the orotund man Brigit had ever seen, spoke. A gasp 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 take our guest into her mouth, the customer has requested the reddish blue Wand."Fatimah took Brigit's hand through the robe and squeezed.

The guard held out a wand-like control stick with a clear glass medulla oblongata at the tip. When he flipped a shift on the wand, purple sparks shot around inside the incandescent lamp. He held it near the womanhood's slope and an arc of purple electricity scene 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 screeching rang through the hall.

Male laughter came from the high mesa where the pig who'd condemned the woman to the violet scepter pointed and laughed. Another man joined him. He wore a lily-white gown and turban. Black gloves covered his workforce, and he fiddled with a string of drop. He sat with the guest but didn't gag, just watched without emotion. Brigit would kill them without a second thought, given the chance. As it was, Fatima tugged on the collar, making her face forward again.

Except for the man, muteness filled the room. The char's twisting 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 titty, her ramification, 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 cleaning lady'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 cellphone. They undressed and climbed into their beds.

"What will go on tomorrow ?"Brigit couldn't imagine how the women could face the adjacent day.

"Our Day are all alike. We have breakfast and then a walk and utilisation. Later, we can once more enjoy a walking in the court, soakage in the scented pool, and prepare to meet our guests."

"Every day ?"tedium would kill her if love fat pigs who enjoyed the torture of youth fair sex didn't do it first.

"Most days, yes."

"Did you know her, Fatima ?"

Fatima didn't speak for various moment."Go to log Z's, Brigit. Whatever happens tomorrow, it is in our pursuit to be ready."

Despite the upheaval of all she'd experienced that day and the thoughts and veneration of what awaited her tomorrow, enervation 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 room for breakfast. She was restrained, as before. Afterwards, they walked outdoors in a courtyard filled with flowers. The contrast between the outdoors environment and what they faced in their elbow room was so great, Brigit's spunk almost broke when they had to go in. But instead of being led back to the gray walls and closeness of their cell-like place, they were sent to an practice session room.

Fatima explained that their pleasing shapes were significant to conserve. Especially vital were Kegel exercises."Men enjoy the substantial tactile sensation of a woman's twat clutching their humanity,"explained Fatima.

I'd like to hold close individual's manhood, and his chunk, too.

An hour or Sir Thomas More later, cleaning lady bathed them in a magnanimous, fragrant pond and then provided a relaxing massage. Outside the walls of their room, Brigit could almost believe she was being pampered in an exclusive tidy sum spa—except for the ever-present guards, and the silence of the women. Fatima met her regard, but no one else did and few wheel spoke to Fatima. When Brigit moved toward another woman, Fatima tugged on the leash, pulling her up short and chafing her neck. The charwoman to whom she'd intended to say hi met her eyes for a brief moment—enough for Brigit to see them filled with fear—then she glanced at a nearby guard, dropped her regard, and hurried away.

"The 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 women here live as grandly as we do,"Fatima confided when they returned to their room after dinner.

G ? This ?

Fatima unfastened Brigit's adhesion, saying,"I must ready myself. Rest for a few moments."She moved to her bed and hang to pull a hoop from below it. Sitting, she opened the basket and removed respective items.

"What are you preparing for ?"Brigit stretched out on her slope and propped up on her human elbow. Fatima applied a sullen brown eye tail, which enhanced her dusky skin tones.

"There is a party for a grouping of men. They have requested me to dish up as the entertainment."With a light hand, she added glitter to the chapeau of her optic and a powder that gave her cheeks a golden glow."Because you are new, no one will expect you to take part, 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 nipples that sharpened the ruddy color of her ring of color."This is something halfway Eastern men find exciting,"she explained,"along with eyes which are outlined and mysterious. Sometimes I also redden the humbled lips, so that like flower petal, my folds draw the bee."She looked up.

Brigit's stunned mental rejection must take shown on her face because Fatimah burst into peals of soft, melodious laugh."You will learn. I will teach you. As your mentor, it is my task. But for tonight, just observe."She adjusted a mirror before dipping a sharpened wooden stick into a small pot. Rubbing the tip against the side of the pot to remove nimiety, she expertly outlined her eyes with a black liquid.

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

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

"I'll what ?"

Fatima took a breath and returned her items to the basket, which she stored back in its place."In this sheath, it will serve as your protection. When the men see you locked away, they will not ask you to do something you are not educate to do. However, as always, we will be watched. It is life-sustaining you do not say anything, no matter what you see or what I do. No damage will amount 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 client would opt, since the negative body process took place during their party."She shuddered."Remember what you saw yesterday, and please do as I say."She finished dressing in cushy, violet pic that wasn't constructed adequate to be called even a robe or gown and then turned to Brigit."Are you ready ?

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

"The lone way you will learn 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 spokesperson and tried to swallow past the sting of tears lodged in her throat.

Gathering the chemise around Brigit's articulatio humeri, Fatima retied her hands and then looped the rope through a separate rope she wrapped around Brigit's waist. When she covered the restraint 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 gabardine. There are few Edward Douglas White Jr. women here, and they are much in demand of late. There is no demand tempting this evening's guests with what they should not give birth. There will be drinking. The boozing does more than fill thirst. It stirs the bloodline. If they see your skin, they will need you, and you are not ready."

Brigit's inside flipped. She felt sick, but Fatima gave her no time for it. She tugged a cap over Brigit's head.

She fought to breathe normally. Blinking, she tried to focus through the rectangle of interlock at eye level.

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

Brigit nodded, unable to speak.

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

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

The hallways twisted and wound until Brigit had no theme where she was in coition to her room. Finally, they turned into a room decorated with grand material draping one bulwark. Mosaic designs in roofing tile of the burnished people of color decorated the former walls. A vauntingly Oriental-style rug covered a major part of the concrete level. Mirrors covered the roof. Bright pillows littered one side of meat of the rug, and four boldness trays were set among the pillows.

In one quoin, a man strummed an exotic official document. The sound—something between a guitar and steel drum—served as desktop. The instrumentalist was blindfolded, making Brigit wonder what sort of mayhem would deal place.

In the face-to-face corner, a boastfully cage sat in tail. Fatimah led Brigit to the cage and urged her inside."Try to get comfortable. You will be here for quite a while and will not be allowed out for any reason."She lowered her voice."Unless it is for punishment, and you will not want that."

"No."Brigit murmured her agreement. The batting cage that had looked sufficient on the exterior suddenly seemed much smaller when it became her temporary home. She couldn't stand. A chair placed near the center meant she wouldn't have to sit on the level, but she had no exemption of movement. When she was seated, Fatimah secured the leash to the top of the cage leaving her head a few in from the top cake. The valuation reserve of rope stretched only from Brigit's neck to the top bar. Not only taproom and metal imprisoned her, the hot seat did now also.

"Do not forget. check 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 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, Fatima swung around and glared, and another cleaning woman, who had slipped in spiritual world, gasped and stared, eye wide.

core pounding, Brigit gave a small trill of her head. 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 wrong about the issue of women in the room. Instead of one, three had silently entered. Volumes of shimmering silk covered their stage from articulatio talocruralis to hips, though their pubic areas remained uncovered. embryonic membrane of silk draped their tit, though as they moved, Brigit observed the stuff was untied at the rear, leaving both pubis and tit useable and unresolved for any to see. And to use ? Then why bring Fatima ?

The women gathered around Fatima. In seconds, they'd stripped her and then tied her to a chain attached to a block in the cap. The mountain chain made barely a auditory sensation as one of the women pulled Fatima's hired hand luxuriously over her capitulum. They secreted her under a cloak of red velvet from her fingertips to the floor. Finished with Fatima, the women went to the organisation trays and sat, sinking back on their heel and placing their manpower on their circle. They didn't look at her or even around the room.

Brigit took the opportunity to enquire the room further. There were no Windows, two doors—one through which they'd cum and another, larger one on the antonym arial mosaic bulwark. Brigit stared at the wall. The tiles formed small representations of sexual positions—hundreds of them—in all possible compounding and sex. Indeed, the pattern in the ornate carpet and cloth wallcovering had the same subject. person lit a stick of incense, and a light musk olfactory property filled the room. The surroundings was charged with sexuality.

The tumid door opened, and three men entered, laughing and talking in what sounded like Tajik. One slapped another on the back, and the 3rd took a second to bend and stroke the chest of the first 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 charwoman bowed to them and poured their drink.

The three were well-dressed, and not in the usual linen and cotton wool she'd seen on the men in the dining mansion. One wore the gown of a sheik with traditional headgear—traditional based on what she'd seen on TV, anyway. The early two wore Western-style suits, though their food color, their beard, and language led her to believe they were Middle Eastern.

So, the game are about to begin.

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

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

They stood and came forward to see her, turning her this way and that, spreading her cigarette face as well as her pegleg, and having her surface her mouth. They seemed particularly delight with her mouth. Brigit's venter churned, imagining how they would use her. Why am I concerned ? Fatimah certainly wasn't a friend.

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

The men sat again and began to play. The plot was nothing Brigit had ever seen, though she might have thought they played cribbage except for the dice. In routine, they moved peg down up the wooden card and down, discarded and picked up cards, and tossed the dice. After various minutes, one of the cause shouted in triumph. The tribal sheik threw his cards across the floor, and his girl scrambled after them.

The achiever stood and approached Fatima. After squeezing her breasts, he turned her and spanked her until her butt blazed. Fatima didn't cry out, though the slap must stimulate hurt like hellhole. Brigit clenched her fists and silently repeated Fatima's instruction that she detain tacit, no matter what.

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

Once more, the young woman hurried to help him remove his shoes and the respite of his clothing. When he stood naked, he turned and showed himself to Fatima. She said something in his language, her musical note filled with awe, and the man's expression turned arrogant. The girl moved around to stroke his hard-on, but he knocked her deal away, preferring to fondle himself, showing off his distance and thickness. In the overhead mirror, Brigit saw Fatima's reaction—she licked her rim and waggled her tongue, as though to puzzle out him instead.

The other men watched with interest. courting Two pulled his fille close enough to finger her pussy. fashion plate drank wine while his 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 take place. The man had the fully grown dick she'd ever seen, and he was going to take Fatima from the back.

The man strode behind the hanging girl. He grasped her hips with one mitt and guided his hammer to her rosebud with the other. Easing in, he changed his expression from one of smug anticipation to ecstasy. Fatimah threw back her psyche, displaying alternating looks of pain, relief, and—when he began moving in and out, a slowly, metrical action—excitement. Her impudence flushed. Sweat beaded on his brow, and the pilus on his dresser and back turned shadow with moisture.

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

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

One of the early men stared at his companion while the girl sucked him. The other had buried his face in his girlfriend'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 minutes later, the man was back at his tray, a pair of loose cotton bloomers protecting his privates from opinion. The game went on while his girl cleaned Fatimah and gave her a sip of something from a tall glass.

The sheik kept casting deliberate glances Fatima's way. Once more he lost the game, and again he showed temper in his chemical reaction, by raising his bridge player to strickle his girl.

lawsuit One again claimed victory. He ripped his jackanapes bloomers from his stage 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 binding of Fatimah's human knee in the shepherd's crook of his arms and spread her leg while his attendant bolstered her from behind. Then he thrust hard and to the hilt. Fatimah, as humble 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 chemical chain until she faced Brigit, a captive audience in her cage. Fatima's eyes appeared glazed, unfocused. Her palpebra drooped and her mouth twisted into a face. The man threw back his capitulum and let loose with a natural state, trilling scream of conquest.

Brigit looked to the other span. The endorse suit had removed his jacket and tie. His shirt hung unfold, and his girl enthusiastically sucked his cock through the opening in his trousers. The sheik had his robes pulled up far enough for his tender to cod him. He routinely reached behind and slapped her stern to increase her pace.

Fatima moaned, bringing back Brigit's attention. The attendee held her unbendable against the man's truelove hammer. She also stroked Fatimah's bum hole. Fatimah lowered her drumhead to expect down her small trunk. Brigit raised her gaze to the mirror to watch.

His black pubic hairsbreadth glistened with sweat and their conflate juices. His embrown cock, engorged and thickly veined, pulled out of her cunning channel, wet with cream, then disappeared into her slim body. Brigit was reminded of the last porn flick she'd seen, except this was real.

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

She squirmed on her narrow little chair, but couldn't move far in any direction. Where Fatima was right now, Brigit could well find herself tomorrow. The scent of sex filled her nostrils, musk from the incense layered over literal, human musk. Three duad writhed and moved, separately, but toward the Same end, grunting, moaning, bodies slapping. Brigit's breath grew shoal, her pulse raced. She couldn't get a finger to her pussy, and she wanted to scream.

At that moment, someone did scream. Fatima. Her rose hip thrashed wildly, the suit pumped furiously, and then he let out his own yell of triumph.

Before Brigit knew it, the men were back performing and drinking and laughing. The two who hadn't had their fortune with the prize tossed the dice and threw down cards with the frenzy of men in rut. Fatimah was cleaned and given a sip of the mystifying liquid.

The beau won future. Without hesitation, he ordered the rope lowered so Fatima could kneel before him. Brigit thought he would perpetrate up his robes and take Fatima's mouth. Instead, without warning, he hauled back his arm and slapped her across the font. Fatima fell to the side. The dandy's miss rushed to assist her book binding to her knees. The sheik grabbed a smattering of hair and yanked Fatima's brain back.

Her mouth bled, and her cheek was reddened. Fatima swayed, but did not make a sound. The girl wiped the stemma away and then helped check up the sheik's robes. Involuntarily, Brigit started to rise. No one noticed or cared what that dickhead had done. The others were involved in a foursome, as though pleasure was their only business organisation during the intermission of a biz. Helpless, she sank back onto her chair.

That's what the room was about, feeling in force, even if a man's pleasance included a woman's pain. Brigit wanted to go to Fatima and protect her, a small woman, against the likes of a beastly bastard. More, she wanted her knee in the sheik's groin. However, neither of those things was going to happen.

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

From what Brigit could see, his peter didn't reach the sizing of the first man, but he could easily occupy a woman's sassing 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 gown up in some way, leaving her absolve. She knelt behind Fatima and reached through her legs to rub her sex.

"Hmmm."Fatima made her loudest randomness yet, humming while fully covering his cock and moving her hips wildly over the missy's fingers.

Did she come ? Brigit couldn't tell. The sheik certainly did. He filled Fatima's mouth until his cum spilled down her chin. He grunted, released her hair, and pulled out of her sassing all at the same time. He stood, hands on hips, looking down at her. Breathing severe, she leaned forward and licked him scavenge. Only then did he speak a countersign that sounded to Brigit's auricle as extolment. Fatima nodded and let the little girl assistant her stand while her hands once more extended over her head.

How long can this go on ? Long past the point Brigit would have got begged them to intercept, Fatimah stood tall. She sucked the men twice more, took them in the cunt, in the ass, and in the final act of the night, took them all, one in each porta. They'd released her manpower. The girls held her steady until she gained her breath, and then they'd helped her straddle the fashion plate. Kneeling between the sheik's stage, Suit One inserted his behemoth prick into her bum. They struck up a obtuse, strong rhythm. lawsuit Two knelt at the sheik's head 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 clothes and dressed, then swaggered out, giving neither Holy Scripture nor glance to any of the adult female. Obviously, they thought Fatima undeserving, and the women who'd served didn't warrant even a nod of thanks. Bastards.

Fatima lay on the floor for prospicient minute. When she finally made an effort to support, the charwoman cleaned and dressed her. At some stage, the player had left. The man who'd stood guard throughout the proceedings 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 walk back to the room. Weak as she was, she held the terzetto firmly.

The first 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 sumptuous room. With impatience, she waited while Fatima lifted the sack-dress and untied her hands. Then, after she'd relieved herself, she remembered Fatima had not only been captive the like length of metre, she'd been used over and over. shame flowed through her.

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

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

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

Fatima's regard fastened on Brigit's without overplus."That is what I am. You have cathouse in your state. I heard of them when I lived there."

"Yes, but—"

"Here we are better. Our apparel are lavish. Our food is good and nourishing."grin and raising her brows she added,"You see it must be, because we need energy to be skillful at our work. But best of all, our guests are especial. They all insure we reach our joy while they take theirs. This is highly unusual, as I understand the business organisation. Can you tell me unlike ?"

"No. But I don't have experience in this field."Brigit thought back to what she'd seen, heard, and read about prostitutes in the State Department. Her printing was that a street girl provided what the customer wanted and didn't worry about herself. She'd always thought the intimate finish was quantity, not lineament, for her or the man.

"I am condom here. Do you see ? I am awake and cared for."Fatima's eyes softened."I can suppose of good room to exist, but I can think of worse also."

Brigit couldn't sustain her optic open, and she didn't know what to say to oppose Fatima. Her kinsperson didn't want her, and so maybe this seemed like a practicable alternative. Brigit did have a family, however, and friends, and she knew they would walk through fervency to find her. If she wasn't too far up the land's asshole, they would find her. Her job was to stay alive and well so their feat wouldn't be in vain. She'd declivity apart and turn over in to despair when hebdomad passed with no Son of deliverance. Then she'd have it off Omar and his employers had hidden her even from God's eyes.

"You're right. There are unfit places to be and lots worse things 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."

"goodness. And now let us sleep."

"goodness night,"Brigit said. Hurry, Daddy, mommy, whoever. Please hurry 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 .