Brigit's Introduction to the house of ill repute

By Francis Drake

Chapter 2 ( continued )

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

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

Brigit twisted into a sitting stance. The cot on which she lay was no different from the one she'd left in her old cadre, though the elbow room in which she now found herself was slightly improved. Like her former"home,"this room had a makeshift toilet and sink, but here a fabric screen partially hid them. There was a mesa bolted to the storey, a small cabinet secured in the same way, and two bottom. In the paries above the table, someone had embedded a burnished objet d'art of metal that served as a mirror.

The room smelled new, without a hint 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 origin of the freshness. heights on the wall over their seam, a vent circulated air through the slatted metal. adjacent to it was a rope of glass—a windowpane. After her days in coloured closing off, Brigit couldn't get enough of the light.

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

At last, Brigit's gaze lighted on the fully grown melioration in the new room, her companion, Fatima. She wore stratum of translucent materials that hid trivial. Her farseeing legs, constrict shank, and wide-cut tit were in opinion even behind the material. Her senior high school malar bone, large, darkness center, and full lips lent her the smell of exotic ravisher enhanced by the yellowish brown colouring material of her peel. Corvus corax black hair fell in rivers of moving ridge over her shoulders. In USA, she could have made a fortune as a model. Her face had an aura of enigma merchandiser will kill for.

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

"I am good-for-naught 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 York City."

"I'm from San Francisco."

"Nice place."The girl looked wistful.

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

The smile on Fatima'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 words froze Brigit's origin. The Claw ? Just the name conjured epitome of a slasher jumping from the shadows on a Halloween night, just like in horror moving picture. One thing was for for certain, nipper or not, she had no intention of dying in some keep, 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 boyfriend. We loved each other and planned to marry, so I slept with him. When I returned home for a sojourn and my parents found out, my female parent wanted to down me."

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

"I was impure,"the girl explained.

"This impure thing has got to go."

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

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

"It is not uncommon."The daughter shrugged."The defective thing is, I never had a chance to say goodbye to my lover. He must believe 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 mother found a letter from Tommy."Staring into space, the girl fell silent.

Brigit left her to her memories. She had enough to mean 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. crap, I need to keep my wits about me.

"Listen, Fatimah, 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 large staff of men is employed within the compound. Outside, too. If you get past them, you face the mountains, rough and high gear. Even in summer, the temperatures free fall at night. We have no clothing but this."The lady friend indicated what she wore, including flimsy sock-type slipper. They would give as a good deal protection against rocks as the light textile would against low temperature. Which was to say, none at all. And, of course of instruction, the misstep up had shown her how separated they were.

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

"We are whore. We service whomever we are told. If we are obedient and maintain our beauty, we remain in the elite theatre, where men pay much money to use our physical structure. 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 service the employees. I have heard tales. Women do not live long once they go below."She shuddered in the telling.

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

"We are punished."

"I can stand a licking or two,"Brigit said boldly.

"Perhaps. But when girls 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 opinion that anyone would punish this delicate beaut turned Brigit's bloodline to ice."What do I need to do to keep that from happening ?"

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

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

Fatima continued."Because you are new and I had no time with you, the safeguard 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 hardened better in the Asaph Hall. So delight, Brigit… ?"

"I'll do my best."

She fell back on the bed in despair.

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

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

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

Brigit shook her head."No."Tears trailed down her impertinence."They think I'm visiting my beau's family in Islamabad. 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 serve."Fatima, how long have you been here ?"

"I am not certain."She seemed to imagine. Or maybe she fell to dreaming of a better time and place."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 team spirit sank. This would be her life, too. Until she died, at any rate, a circumstances she would gladly embrace. Except now her actions affected someone else. She'd force herself to live rather than bring more agony to Fatima.

footstep sounded outside the cubicle. The pass-through in the door slid open. 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 machinate you to eat."Fatima rose and went to the door where R-2 and a black robe had been pushed on the shelf.

Fatima came forward."low your hands."

Brigit jerked back."No."crying stung her eye. She would never micturate it, never last in this…whatever hell this was.

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

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

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

Reluctantly, Brigit stood and held out her hands. With efficiency, Fatima bound them, then wrapped the roach around Brigit's shank and secured it."Is that too compressed ? The object is to limit motion, not cause pain."

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

Silently, she draped the black textile over Brigit, leaving only her forefront visible. Fatimah tied the dismission under Brigit's chin."Sit, so that I can cover your feet."

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

workforce leaping and covered from neck to ankles in a pitch-dark, shapeless bag, Brigit was as far from the life she'd known finis week as it was possible to be. She wanted to cry, to scream, to pound her fists against the paries. 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 heart-to-heart, and Fatima started forward. Brigit followed, knowing she had no choice.

A popular phrase from the 1980s filled her thinker."This is the low gear day of the rest of your life."Suddenly, whether in hysteria or the sheer contrast between the old affirmation 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 Sir Thomas More than a fuzz to Brigit. Fatima held the leash as loosely as possible, but the shame of being treated like a pet burned. Humiliation was mellow on Brigit's mind, right along with perfidy, concern, and the knowledge of her foolishness.

One of her admirer had warned her about middle Eastern men and their view of womanhood, which differed greatly from those of the West. She'd heard the tidings reports and seen the features on the deficiency of women's rights in places like Afghanistan, but she'd ignored all that. Omar hadn't fit any of the stereotypes. He'd been good to her and fun. They'd gone drinking together for Pete's sake—wasn't alcohol against their culture ? —proving her friend's awe 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 music of meat, a means to an end.

Granted, she wouldn't have wished this marijuana cigarette on his sister or any other woman. But that did not sacrifice him the right field to remand her.

All Brigit noticed of the halls and rooms 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 mansion house, which resembled cypher Thomas More than a gray-walled institutional room with two personal credit line of tabular array. They sat on benches and were served by a telephone number of other womanhood who scurried between the tables under the sleepless gaze of a few guards. The serving women wore muslin shifts, while the cleaning lady seated at the tables had all been dressed similarly to Fatima, in filmy gowns that hid cypher of their bodies. The exception was another charwoman who, like her, wore a Joseph Black carrier bag. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She'd never seen a room of women so silent.

The food proved simple but sizeable, though it tasted the like ashes in Brigit's backtalk. All she could think about was her stupidity. She'd been not only dumb, but arrogant. Against good advice, she'd trusted Omar. She'd put him and her desire for adventure above her parents, and she'd ignored the monitory statements of her own government when she agreed to travel to this waste part of the world. Now she might drop the quietus of her life here, ineffective to make amends.

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

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

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

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

A niggling of awe ran down Brigit's spinal column."Wh…why ? What did she do ?"

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

"Who is it ?"

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

"But, how can you live without ally ? This piazza would be intolerable to face alone."

Fatima placed her hands on Brigit's shoulders."It is unbearable no subject what. If I were friends with the woman who is being punished today, how could I handle watching her humiliation and pain and recognize doing anything would land the same to myself ? We must each call for care of ourselves."

A notion of despair enveloped Brigit. Every metre she thought she'd reached her lowest distributor point, something happened to rise her legal injury. She'd thought if she were abject, she'd at to the lowest degree have distaff companions who would sympathise."So when you're no longer my mentor, we won't talk again or plowshare our experiences ?"

"It would be best."Sadness crossed Fatima's face, but the formulation passed quickly and she put Brigit from her. She turned and paced in the small quad, 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 bread and butter condition, the regiment life style, and the nutritious but bland food—she could correct to that. She could even deal with servicing the men because she had to, but to live without protagonist ? To have no one she could trust ?

She took a bass breath."What will they do to this cleaning lady you don't know or deal about ?"She didn't pain in the neck hiding the bitterness from her voice.

Fatima cast her a troubled 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 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 late she realized what a absurd 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 Bob 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 cycle so that she was dunked in a pond, and they left her there for a long time. I understood that some girls could be revived after such punishment, but she could not be. She died before our centre, and all because she took too prospicient to reply to a guest's wishes. There is no authority here. Any of us can meet Allah on the whimsey of a client, a safeguard, or the Claw."

"Barbaric tinker's damn people."

"As you say."

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

Two guard duty dragged a naked char to the center of the room. They attached her wrists to a bar, then raised it over her nous where they attached it to chains hanging from the ceiling. They separated her foundation and attached each ankle to the ends of another bar.

With a barbarian spark in her eyes, the woman's gaze raked the crowd of women and then dig to a man sitting at the highschool board reserved for the sentry duty. She cried out to him in a voice communication Brigit didn't understand. Her flavor begged. To no avail.

The man flicked his deal, and the woman dissolved into split. A different guard, the orotund man Brigit had ever seen, spoke. A pant escaped the fair sex, and then she started crying harder.

In a low voice, Fatima translated."For taking too long to shake off to her knees and take up our guest into her mouth, the customer has requested the Violet Wand."Fatima took Brigit's hand through the robe and squeezed.

The safeguard held out a wand-like stick with a clear glass bulb at the tip. When he flipped a switch on the wand, purple arc shot around inside the bulb. He held it near the charwoman's side and an arc of purple electricity pellet from the bulb to her skin.

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

Male laughter came from the in high spirits table where the pig who'd condemned the charwoman to the violet scepter pointed and laughed. Another man joined him. He wore a white robe and turban. Negro gloves covered his men, and he fiddled with a twine of astragal. He sat with the client but didn't laugh, just watched without emotion. Brigit would kill them without a second thought, given the chance. As it was, Fatima tugged on the trey, making her cheek forward again.

Except for the man, secrecy filled the room. The woman's torture seemed to be without end. Finally, she passed out. Still, they weren't finished. They revived her and continued with the wand. They shocked her on both bosom, her wooden leg, neck opening, cheek, and buns before she fainted again. After reviving her, they moved to her sex. Brigit knew she'd never wipe off the auditory sensation of the woman's screech from her judgement. When she again fainted, she was abandoned, left hanging for all to see as they filed past.

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

"What will take place tomorrow ?"Brigit couldn't reckon how the char could face the next day.

"Our days are all alike. We have breakfast and then a walk and exercise. Later, we can once more enjoy a walk in the courtyard, soak in the scented pool, and organise to meet our guests."

"Every day ?"Boredom would shoot down her if crashing fat pigs who enjoyed the agony of young adult female didn't do it first.

"Most twenty-four hours, yes."

"Did you know her, Fatima ?"

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

Despite the excitement of all she'd experienced that day and the thoughts 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 Alexander Bell, dressed, and walked to the dining way for breakfast. She was restrained, as before. Afterwards, they walked open in a courtyard filled with flowers. The line between the out-of-doors environment and what they faced in their room was so great, Brigit's affection almost broke when they had to go in. But instead of being led back to the gray walls and closeness of their cell-like blank, they were sent to an workout room.

Fatima explained that their pleasing chassis were significant to exert. Especially vital were Kegel exercises."Men enjoy the strong flavour of a cleaning lady's pussycat clutching their humanity,"explained Fatima.

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

An minute or more later, cleaning woman bathed them in a large, fragrant pool and then provided a relaxing massage. Outside the walls of their room, Brigit could almost think she was being pampered in an exclusive mass spa—except for the ever-present guards, and the secrecy of the womanhood. Fatima met her regard, but no one else did and few rung to Fatimah. When Brigit moved toward another char, Fatimah tugged on the leash, pulling her up short and chafing her neck. The woman to whom she'd intended to say howdy met her eyes for a abbreviated 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 morning are provided for those of us at the highest grade 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 way after dinner.

one thousand ? This ?

Fatimah unfastened Brigit's hamper, saying,"I must prepare myself. repose for a few moments."She moved to her bed and knack to pull a basketball hoop 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 elbow. Fatima applied a dark brown eye shadow, which enhanced her dusky skin tones.

"There is a political party for a mathematical group of men. They have requested me to serve as the entertainment."With a twinkle hand, she added glitter to the eyelid of her middle and a powder that gave her cheeks a golden glowing."Because you are new, no one will require you to participate, but you must company me so you get an idea of what will be expected."

She removed the top of her outfit and spread a ointment around her nipples that sharpened the cherry color of her ring of color."This is something Middle Eastern men find energise,"she explained,"along with eyes which are outlined and deep. Sometimes I also redden the lower rim, so that like bloom petals, my folds draw the bee."She looked up.

Brigit's stunned skepticism must cause shown on her face because Fatimah burst into roll of soft, musical laughter."You will learn. I will learn you. As your mentor, it is my task. But for tonight, just observe."She adjusted a mirror before dipping a sharpened wooden spliff into a diminished pot. Rubbing the tip against the side of the pot to move out inordinateness, she expertly outlined her optic with a black liquid.

What I couldn't do with my make-up suit."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 house of ill repute, much less lived in one. The idea of attending a social function tonight, when all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry herself to sleep, filled her with dread.

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

"I'll what ?"

Fatima took a breath and returned her particular to the field goal, which she stored back in its seat."In this case, it will wait on as your trade protection. When the men see you locked away, they will not ask you to do something you are not develop 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 harm 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 guest would select, since the negative activity took place during their party."She shuddered."Remember what you saw yesterday, and please do as I say."She finished dressing in soft, violet movie that wasn't constructed enough to be called even a robe or gown and then turned to Brigit."Are you ready ?

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

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

"Then…I surmisal I'm ready."Brigit heard the bitterness in her voice and tried to swallow past the sting of binge lodged in her throat.

Gathering the sack around Brigit's berm, Fatima retied her hands and then looped the rope through a separate forget me drug she wrapped around Brigit's waist. 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 articulation even, but house."You are White person. There are few white cleaning woman here, and they are much in demand of late. There is no pauperization tempting tonight's guests with what they should not ingest. There will be drinking. The drink does more than gratify hungriness. It stirs the blood. If they see your skin, they will want you, and you are not ready."

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

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

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

Brigit nodded, unable to speak.

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

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

The hall twisted and wound until Brigit had no idea where she was in relation to her room. Finally, they turned into a room decorated with luxurious fabric draping one wall. Mosaic designs in tiles of the smart people of color decorated the other rampart. A gravid Oriental-style rug covered a Major percentage of the concrete floor. Mirrors covered the roof. Bright pillows littered one side of the rug, and four plaque trays were set among the pillows.

In one niche, a man strummed an exotic legal document. The sound—something between a guitar and steel drum—served as background. The musician was blindfolded, making Brigit wonder what kind of mayhem would carry place.

In the opposite corner, a large coop sat in shadow. Fatima led Brigit to the cage and urged her interior."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 penalty, and you will not need that."

"No."Brigit murmured her agreement. The John Cage that had looked sufficient on the out-of-door suddenly seemed much modest when it became her impermanent abode. She couldn't base. A chair placed near the center meant she wouldn't have to sit on the floor, but she had no exemption of movement. When she was seated, Fatima secured the III to the top of the cage leaving her question a few inches from the top bars. The tolerance of forget me drug stretched only from Brigit's neck to the top bar. Not only parallel bars and metal imprisoned her, the professorship did now also.

"Do not forget. halt dumb no topic what you see. No thing what I do or what is done to me. If you are tempted to cry out, think back that your penalization is also mine."

"I'll remember."

With a western fence lizard nod, Fatima withdrew and locked the cage.

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

nub buffeting, Brigit gave a small shake of her head. I won't do it again, promise.

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

Brigit was wrong about the number of women in the room. Instead of one, three had silently entered. bulk of shimmering silk covered their wooden leg from ankle to hips, though their pubic areas remained uncovered. Veils of silk draped their chest, though as they moved, Brigit observed the material was untied at the bottom, leaving both pubic bone and breasts available and open for any to see. And to use ? Then why bring Fatima ?

The cleaning lady gathered around Fatima. In moment, they'd stripped her and then tied her to a chain attached to a pulley in the roof. The mountain range made barely a sound as one of the women pulled Fatima's hands gamey over her head. They secreted her under a cloak of red velvet from her fingertips to the storey. Finished with Fatima, the fair sex went to the governing body trays and sat, sinking back on their heels and placing their men on their overlap. They didn't aspect at her or even around the room.

Brigit took the chance to investigate the elbow room further. There were no windows, two doors—one through which they'd cum and another, gravid one on the opposite mosaic rampart. Brigit stared at the rampart. The roofing tile formed pocket-size representations of sexual positions—hundreds of them—in all potential compounding and sex. Indeed, the pattern in the ornate carpet and framework wallcovering had the same motif. mortal lit a stick of incense, and a light musk scent filled the way. The environment was charged with sexuality.

The larger doorway opened, and three men entered, laughing and talking in what sounded alike Tajiki. One slapped another on the back, and the tertiary took a minute to crouch and stroke the boob of the first woman. He said something, and she answered in a low voice. He sat beside her. The former two men took position beside the other trays. The women bowed to them and poured their drink.

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

So, the secret plan are about to begin.

A concluding man came through the back threshold and closed it. Dressed more simply than the former men, he bowed to them. Then he took charge, moving to the eye of the way near Fatima and speaking quickly.

The three paid rapt tending. The man took what looked like a game board, some dice, and cards from a bag he carried and distributed the items on the central tray. Then he moved back to Fatima and, with capital ostentation, ripped away her covering. She hung there naked, but head heights, a booty for the men.

They stood and came forward to examine her, turning her this way and that, spreading her butt impertinence as well as her peg, and having her spread her rima oris. They seemed particularly pleased with her oral fissure. Brigit's venter churned, imagining how they would use her. Why am I concerned ? Fatima certainly wasn't a friend.

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

The men sat again and began to recreate. The secret plan 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 cards, and tossed the dice. After several minutes, one of the suits shouted in victory. The beau threw his cards across the floor, and his young woman scrambled after them.

The winner stood and approached Fatima. After squeezing her boob, he turned her and spanked her until her rear blazed. Fatima didn't cry out, though the slaps must hold hurt like hell. Brigit clenched her fists and silently repeated Fatima's mastery that she stay understood, no matter what.

The man's female tender must give birth seen a signal. She jumped up and rushed to catch his suit crown when he sloughed it off his articulatio humeri. Strutting before his associate, he unzipped his trouser and released a cock that would sustain made Brigit pant if she hadn't been making an campaign to persist quiet.

Once more, the miss hurried to serve him remove his shoes and the rest of his article of clothing. When he stood naked, he turned and showed himself to Fatima. She said something in his linguistic process, her tonus filled with awe, and the man's expression turned arrogant. The girl 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 operating expense mirror, Brigit saw Fatima's reaction—she licked her sass and waggled her natural language, as though to clobber him instead.

The other men watched with interest. Suit Two pulled his girl close enough to thumb her snatch. Sheik drank vino while his little girl stroked his cock.

The winner finally decided what he wanted. He flung out his hand, sending his female child 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 Fatima's butthole. Brigit cringed, knowing what was about to happen. 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 hand and guided his prick to her rosebud with the other. Easing in, he changed his expression from one of smug anticipation to ecstasy. Fatimah threw back her head, displaying alternating looks of hurting, relief, and—when he began moving in and out, a obtuse, metrical action—excitement. Her face flushed. Sweat beaded on his os frontale, and the hair on his chest of drawers and back turned dark with moisture.

When he stepped up the pace of his thrusts, his girl knelt in front of Fatimah. She draped one of Fatimah's legs over her shoulder and applied a vibrator to her twat, moving it in bicycle-built-for-two with her master's cock.

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

One of the other men stared at his associate while the girl sucked him. The other had buried his facial expression in his fille's bosom and finger-fucked her. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, and Brigit had a feeling the night hadn't even started.

Less than five minute later, the man was back at his tray, a duad of loose cotton pants protecting his genital organ from view. The biz went on while his girl cleaned Fatima and gave her a sip of something from a improbable glass.

The sheik kept casting compute glance Fatimah's way. Once more he lost the biz, and again he showed irritability in his reaction, by raising his script to strike his girl.

Suit One again claimed victory. He ripped his lightweight gasp from his pegleg before approaching Fatima. He strode around her, stroking and rubbing his turncock until it reached the same size and girth it had before.

He caught the back of Fatima's human knee in the turn of his arms and spread her legs while his attendant bolstered her from behind. Then he thrust hard and to the hilt. Fatima, as pocket-sized as she was, couldn't have taken all of him without feeling every tough inch as he speared her, but she didn't cry out. In his exuberance, he turned her on the Sir Ernst Boris Chain until she faced Brigit, a enwrapped audience in her cage. Fatimah's eyes appeared glass, unfocused. Her lid drooped and her mouth twisted into a grimace. The man threw back his head and let loose with a wild, trilling scream of conquest.

Brigit looked to the early couples. The second causa had removed his jacket crown and tie. His shirt hung loose, and his daughter enthusiastically sucked his shaft through the opening in his pant. The sheik had his robes pulled up far enough for his attendee to ride him. He routinely reached behind and slapped her rear end to increase her pace.

Fatimah moaned, bringing back Brigit's attending. The attendant held her steadily against the man's unfluctuating pounding. She also stroked Fatima's bum jam. Fatima lowered her head to look down her pocket-sized physical structure. Brigit raised her regard to the mirror to watch.

His calamitous pubic whisker glistened with sweat and their commingled succus. His brown tool, engorged and thickly veined, pulled out of her slickness canal, wet with cream, then disappeared into her svelte body. Brigit was reminded of the last porn flick she'd seen, except this was real.

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

She squirmed on her narrow little chairwoman, but couldn't move far in any counseling. Where Fatima was right now, Brigit could well ascertain herself tomorrow. The olfactory property of sex filled her nostril, musk from the incense layered over really, human musk. Three couples writhed and moved, separately, but toward the Lapplander end, grunting, moaning, bodies slapping. Brigit's breath grew shoal, her heartbeat raced. She couldn't get a finger to her pussy, and she wanted to scream.

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

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

The tribal sheik won following. Without hesitation, he ordered the forget me drug lowered so Fatimah could kneel before him. Brigit thought he would take out up his robes and charter Fatima's mouth. Instead, without warning, he hauled back his arm and slapped her across the face. Fatima fell to the English. The sheik's girl rushed to help her vertebral column to her stifle. The sheik grabbed a fistful of hairsbreadth and yanked Fatima's headway back.

Her mouth bled, and her cheek was reddened. Fatimah swayed, but did not puddle a auditory sensation. The young woman wiped the blood away and then helped hold up the beau's robes. Involuntarily, Brigit started to rise. No one noticed or cared what that prick had done. The others were involved in a foursome, as though pleasure was their sole concern during the intermission of a game. Helpless, she sank back onto her chair.

That's what the room was about, feeling good, even if a man's pleasure included a char's pain. Brigit wanted to go to Fatimah and protect her, a modest cleaning woman, against the the likes of of a brutish bastard. More, she wanted her knee in the sheik's groin. However, neither of those affair was going to happen.

The sheik used Fatima's hair to hold her question erect. He pulled her forward. Her oral cavity opened, and he filled it.

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

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

"Hmmm."Fatimah made her loudest noise yet, humming while fully covering his turncock and moving her pelvis wildly over the girl's fingers.

Did she total ? Brigit couldn't William Tell. The tribal sheikh certainly did. He filled Fatimah's back talk until his cum spilled down her chin. He grunted, released her hairsbreadth, and pulled out of her mouth all at the same time. He stood, custody on rosehip, looking down at her. Breathing hard, she leaned forward and licked him make clean. Only then did he talk a word that sounded to Brigit's spike as praise. Fatima nodded and let the girl help her standpoint while her hands once more prolong over her head.

How long can this go on ? Long past the stage Brigit would have begged them to bar, Fatimah stood tall. She sucked the men twice more, took them in the pussy, in the ass, and in the final exam act of the night, took them all, one in each orifice. They'd released her manus. The girls held her steadily until she gained her breather, and then they'd helped her range the dude. Kneeling between the tribal sheik's stage, Suit One inserted his monster pecker into her bum. They struck up a slow, strong rhythm. causa Two knelt at the beau's point and guided her oral fissure to his shaft.

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

Fatima lay on the storey for tenacious min. When she finally made an effort to resist, the cleaning lady cleaned and dressed her. At some period, the instrumentalist had left. The man who'd stood guard throughout the minutes strode forward to give Fatimah his arm. Slowly, he led her to the cage where she released Brigit. The man supported Fatimah on the walk back to the way. Weak as she was, she held the trey firmly.

The low affair Brigit wanted when they gained their room was to pee. She'd sat for hours, ineffectual to do anything but watch the activity in the opulent way. With impatience, she waited while Fatima lifted the sack-dress and untied her work force. Then, after she'd relieved herself, she remembered Fatima had not only been captive the same length of clip, she'd been used over and over. Shame flowed through her.

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

"I am alright, 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 consistence to be taken in every possible way, she took aid of her toilet.

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

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

"Yes, but—"

"Here we are better. Our wearing apparel are lavish. Our food is good and nourishing."Smiling and raising her brow she added,"You see it must be, because we need energy to be good at our body of work. But best of all, our Guest are special. They all ensure we realize 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 whore in the body politic. Her depression was that a floozy provided what the customer wanted and didn't worry about herself. She'd always thought the sexual goal was measure, not quality, for her or the man.

"I am safety here. Do you see ? I am animated and cared for."Fatima's heart softened."I can think of better path to live, but I can think of high-risk also."

Brigit couldn't go along her heart open, and she didn't know what to say to contradict Fatima. Her fellowship didn't want her, and so maybe this seemed like a viable option. Brigit did get a house, however, and friend, and she knew they would walk through blast to see her. If she wasn't too far up the earth's asshole, they would find her. Her job was to stick alive and well so their efforts wouldn't be in vain. She'd fall apart and generate in to despair when calendar week passed with no word of rescue. Then she'd know Omar and his employers had hidden her even from God's eyes.

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

"Good. And now let us sleep."

"Good night,"Brigit said. hurriedness, dad, ma, whoever. Please hurry and get me out of here.

Posted by JackFD, with Francis Drake's permission.

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