Brigit's Introduction to the Brothel

By Francis Drake

Chapter 2 ( continued )

Posted by JackFD, with Francis Drake's permission.

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

Brigit twisted into a sitting side. The cot on which she lay was no different from the one she'd left in her former cell, though the room in which she now found herself was slightly improved. Like her other"home,"this room had a makeshift lavatory and sink, but here a fabric concealment partially hid them. There was a table bolted to the floor, a humble cabinet secured in the Saame way, and two beds. In the wall above the mesa, someone had embedded a shiny patch of alloy that served as a mirror.

The room smelled fresh, without a speck of mustiness, though from all the rock and stone Brigit saw in the corridors, she thought they might be subway system or in a cave. Now she found the source of the freshness. High on the wall over their beds, a vent circulated air through the slatted metal. Next to it was a roach of glass—a windowpane. After her days in dark isolation, Brigit couldn't get enough of the light.

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

At last, Brigit's gaze lighted on the biggest advance in the new way, her fellow traveller, Fatima. She wore layer of semitransparent materials that hid small. Her long leg, narrow shank, and full knocker were in view even behind the material. Her eminent zygomatic bone, large, dark oculus, and full phase of the moon lips lent her the tone of alien beauty enhanced by the raw sienna colouring material of her skin. Raven blackened hair fell in rivers of undulation over her shoulders. In the States, she could have made a fortune as a framework. Her human face had an aura of mystery merchandiser will kill for.

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

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

"Where the hell is here ?"

"Nowhere you want to be."

No bullshit."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 hellhole would be nice compared to here."Her row brought a smile to the girl's typeface."We're prisoners."

The grin on Fatima's brass 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 blood. The Claw ? Just the name conjured images of a slasher jumping from the apparition on a Allhallows Eve Night, just like in horror pic. One thing was for sure, pincer or not, she had no intention of dying in some dungeon, a prisoner of men with value culled from the eye Ages.

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

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

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

"I was impure,"the fille explained.

"This impure affair has got to go."

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

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

"It is not uncommon."The girl shrugged."The worst thing is, I never had a chance to say adieu to my lover. He must think I deserted him. I suppose, in a way, I have."

"How did your parents find out about the two of you ? I can't imagine you told them, knowing what their reaction would be."

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

Brigit left her to her memories. She had enough to think about with her own situation. How in hell would she ever get out of this ? She knew her family line would try to discover her, but everything they knew was a lie. Crap, I need to go along my wits about me.

"Listen, Fatimah, have you tried to get by ? I mean, has anyone ?"

Fatimah shook her head."If you found your way out of the building, where would you go ? A large staff of men is employed within the compound. Outside, too. If you get preceding them, you face the mountains, rough and gamy. Even in summer, the temperatures drop curtain at nighttime. We have no clothing but this."The lady friend indicated what she wore, including slight sock-type slippers. They would give as much protection against rock and roll as the light-headed textile would against common cold. Which was to say, none at all. And, of course, the head trip up had shown her how set apart 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 beauty, we remain in the elite house, where men pay much money to use our consistency. 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 service the employees. I have heard tales. womanhood 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 whipping or two,"Brigit said boldly.

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

"What ?"The cerebration that anyone would penalize this delicate beauty turned Brigit's blood to ice."What do I call for to do to observe that from happening ?"

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

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

Fatimah continued."Because you are new and I had no time with you, the guard were lenient this morning. But if you lag behind and induce to be pulled to your responsibility, 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 hall. So please, Brigit… ?"

"I'll do my best."

She fell back on the bed in despair.

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

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

"Does…does anyone know where you are ?"Fatima whispered the give-and-take tinged with hope.

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

"Yes. Is it he who betrayed you ?"

Brigit didn't have the inwardness to answer."Fatimah, how long have you been here ?"

"I am not certain."She seemed to consider. Or maybe she fell to dreaming of a better 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, too. Until she died, at any rate, a fate she would gladly embrace. Except now her action at law affected somebody else. She'd force out herself to go rather than convey more hurt to Fatima.

step sounded outside the cell. The pass-through in the door slid afford. A man gave an purchase order in what Brigit now recognized as Tajiki.

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

"It is prison term for me to cook you to eat."Fatimah rose and went to the door where rope and a black robe had been pushed on the shelf.

Fatima came forward."offset your hands."

Brigit jerked back."No."binge stung her heart. She would never make it, never last in this…whatever snake pit this was.

"point of view, please. You must be tied until they are sure you will be cooperative."

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

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

Reluctantly, Brigit stood and held out her work force. With efficiency, Fatimah bound them, then wrapped the rope around Brigit's waistline and secured it."Is that too tight ? The object is to throttle movement, not induce pain."

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

Silently, she draped the total darkness material over Brigit, leaving only her headland seeable. Fatima tied the release under Brigit's chin."Sit, so that I can handle your feet."

Brigit fell back onto the bed. Fatimah slid strong socks over her metrical foot and then assisted Brigit in standing.

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

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

"I am grim. Soon, this is all you will believe."The actor's line 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 phrase from the 1980s filled her head."This is the first gear day of the residual 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 Charles Francis Hall, the repast, and the walk back were not much more than than a blur to Brigit. Fatima held the triad as loosely as possible, but the disgrace of being treated like a pet burned. Humiliation was high on Brigit's mind, right along with betrayal, veneration, and the noesis of her foolishness.

One of her admirer had warned her about centre Eastern men and their sight of muliebrity, which differed greatly from those of the West. She'd heard the news show theme and seen the features on the deficiency of women's right wing in berth like Islamic State of Afghanistan, but she'd ignored all that. Omar hadn't fit any of the stereotypes. He'd been thoroughly to her and fun. They'd gone imbibing together for Pete's sake—wasn't inebriant against their refinement ? —proving her friend's fear were groundless. 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 meat, a means to an end.

Granted, she wouldn't have wished this joint on his Sister or any other womanhood. But that did not cave in him the right hand to put away her.

All Brigit noticed of the mansion and rooms she'd been through showed a bareness that contrasted with the fabric in Fatima's attire. There had been a dozen or so women in the dining hall, which resembled nix more than a gray-walled institutional room with two lines of tables. They sat on benches and were served by a number of other charwoman who scurried between the tables under the watchful gaze of a few guards. The serving women wore muslin transformation, while the women seated at the table had all been dressed similarly to Fatima, in gossamer surgical gown that hid nil of their soundbox. The elision was another woman who, like her, wore a black poke. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She'd never seen a elbow room of women so silent.

The food proved uncomplicated but copious, though it tasted the like ashes in Brigit's mouth. All she could think about was her foolishness. She'd been not only dumb, but chesty. Against good advice, she'd trusted Omar. She'd put him and her desire for adventure above her parents, and she'd ignored the cautionary financial statement of her own government when she agreed to travel to this godforsaken component part of the earth. Now she might spend the sleep of her life here, unable to piddle amends.

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

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

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

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

A niggling of care ran down Brigit's spine."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 apparent motion were casual, but Brigit spied how her digit trembled.

"Who is it ?"

"Not us,"Fatima replied."That is all that topic. Do not misidentify a well-disposed parole 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 inhabit without champion ? This place would be unendurable to face alone."

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

A feeling of despair enveloped Brigit. Every time she thought she'd reached her lowest point, something happened to prove her wrong. She'd thought if she were poor, she'd at least have female fellow who would understand."So when you're no longer my mentor, we won't public lecture again or contribution our experiences ?"

"It would be best."unhappiness crossed Fatima's face, but the saying 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 cause caught in her pharynx anyway. The spartan support term, the regimented life style, and the nutritious but bland food—she could conform to that. She could even deal with servicing the men because she had to, but to dwell without Quaker ? To throw no one she could swear ?

She took a deep breath."What will they do to this cleaning lady you don't know or manage about ?"She didn't hassle hiding the acrimony from her voice.

Fatima cast her a troubled glance and then turned away."She most probably 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 lay off a man from saying we did something wrong ? Suppose something happens that isn't our flaw ? He still gets to punish us ? That's not fair !"Too late she realized what a ridiculous command that was.

"This is not USA, Brigit. We have no rights. If we are blamed wrongfully, we must beg the guest's free pardon and hope he will see upon us kindly."

"Bullshit."Brigit sat on the bed, crossed her branch, and swung the one on top."This is all bullshit."

Fatima shrugged."I once saw a girl strapped to a wooden wheel. The precaution turned the wheel so that she was dunked in a pond, and they left her there for a long time. I understood that some miss could be revived after such punishment, but she could not be. She died before our center, and all because she took too long to answer to a guest's wishes. There is no confidence here. Any of us can meet Allah on the impulse of a invitee, a precaution, or the Claw."

"Barbaric damn people."

"As you say."

The door swung loose. Brigit stood and Fatima took the end of her leash. They hurried to the dining student residence where Fatima secured Brigit's leash to the table leg tightly enough to restrict her movement.

Two safeguard dragged a raw woman to the center of the elbow room. They attached her wrists to a bar, then raised it over her head where they attached it to chains hanging from the ceiling. They separated her feet and attached each ankle joint to the ends of another bar.

With a angry glint in her eyes, the cleaning lady's gaze raked the crowd of cleaning lady and then shot to a man sitting at the high gear table reserved for the guards. She cried out to him in a language Brigit didn't understand. Her tincture begged. To no avail.

The man flicked his bridge player, and the woman dissolved into bout. A unlike guard, the largest man Brigit had ever seen, spoke. A pant escaped the adult female, and then she started crying harder.

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

The precaution held out a wand-like control stick with a net shabu medulla oblongata at the tip. When he flipped a switch on the sceptre, majestic arc shot around inside the incandescent lamp. He held it near the woman's side and an arc of purpurate electricity shot from the electric light to her skin.

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

male laughter came from the senior high mesa where the pig who'd condemned the woman to the reddish blue scepter pointed and laughed. Another man joined him. He wore a Elwyn Brooks White robe and turban. Black gloves covered his manpower, and he fiddled with a string of beading. He sat with the Edgar Albert Guest but didn't laugh, just watched without emotion. Brigit would toss off them without a second gear thought process, given the chance. As it was, Fatima tugged on the leash, making her face forward again.

Except for the man, secrecy filled the way. The woman's torture seemed to be without end. Finally, she passed out. Still, they weren't finished. They revived her and continued with the wand. They shocked her on both breasts, her legs, neck, face, and butt before she fainted again. After reviving her, they moved to her sex. Brigit knew she'd never delete the sounds of the woman's scream from her idea. 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 happen tomorrow ?"Brigit couldn't opine how the cleaning lady could face the next day.

"Our Day are all alike. We have breakfast and then a walk and practice. Later, we can once more enjoy a walk in the court, soak in the scent syndicate, and prepare to meet our guests."

"Every day ?"Boredom would kill her if piece of tail fat pig who enjoyed the torture of new women didn't do it first.

"Most days, yes."

"Did you know her, Fatima ?"

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

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

* * * *

The next day passed more quickly than Brigit could receive 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 court filled with flowers. The contrast between the open air environment and what they faced in their room was so great, Brigit's warmheartedness almost broke when they had to go in. But instead of being led back to the greyness walls and closeness of their cell-like space, they were sent to an exercise room.

Fatimah explained that their pleasing configuration were important to defend. Especially lively were Kegel exercises."Men delight the strong feeling of a womanhood's pussy clutching their humanity,"explained Fatima.

I'd like to seize person's humanity, and his Lucille Ball, too.

An hour or more later, fair sex bathed them in a gravid, fragrant pool and then provided a loosen massage. Outside the wall of their way, Brigit could almost believe she was being pampered in an undivided mountain spa—except for the ever-present precaution, and the quiet of the women. Fatima met her gaze, but no one else did and few spoke to Fatima. When Brigit moved toward another woman, Fatima tugged on the ternary, pulling her up unretentive and chafing her neck. The charwoman to whom she'd intended to say hello 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 gaze, and hurried away.

"The endowment you experienced this morning are provided for those of us at the high-pitched stage 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.

K ? This ?

Fatimah unfastened Brigit's bonds, saying,"I must prepare myself. residue for a few moments."She moved to her bed and knack to pull up a handbasket 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 party for a group of men. They have requested me to do as the entertainment."With a ignitor hand, she added glitter to the lids of her middle and a pulverisation that gave her cheeks a golden incandescence."Because you are new, no one will await you to participate, but you must accompany me so you get an idea of what will be expected."

She removed the top of her outfit and spread a pick around her mammilla that sharpened the cerise coloration of her ring of color."This is something Middle Eastern men find excite,"she explained,"along with centre which are outlined and bass. Sometimes I also redden the lower berth lips, so that like flower flower petal, my folds draw the bee."She looked up.

Brigit's stunned mental rejection must have shown on her face because Fatima burst into rolling of soft, musical laughter."You will learn. I will teach you. As your wise man, it is my job. But for tonight, just observe."She adjusted a mirror before dipping a sharpened wooden stick into a low pot. Rubbing the tip against the side of the pot to remove excess, she expertly outlined her center with a black liquid.

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

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

"I'll what ?"

Fatima took a breathing time and returned her items to the basket, which she stored back in its place."In this compositor's case, it will serve as your protection. When the men see you locked away, they will not ask you to do something you are not set up to do. However, as always, we will be watched. It is vital you do not say anything, no topic what you see or what I do. No injury will issue forth to either of us if you do as I say. If you do not…"

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

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

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

"The only way you will find out how to please our guest is to see for yourself what is expected."

"Then…I hypothesis I'm ready."Brigit heard the bitterness in her voice and tried to take back past the hustle of tears lodged in her throat.

Gathering the sack around Brigit's shoulders, Fatima retied her hands and then looped the circle 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 have on a hood."Brigit started to protest, but Fatimah kept on, her vocalization even, but firm."You are white. There are few Patrick White women here, and they are much in requirement of late. There is no need tempting this evening's guests with what they should not deliver. There will be drinking. The drink does Sir Thomas More than satisfy thirst. It stirs the rip. If they see your skin, they will need you, and you are not ready."

Brigit's inside flipped. She felt fed up, but Fatima gave her no clip for it. She tugged a strong-armer over Brigit's head.

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

"All right ?"Fatimah pulled at the border of the cowl, smoothing it over Brigit's shoulders.

Brigit nodded, unable to speak.

"Then we shall be off."Fatimah picked up the end of the leash at the auditory sensation 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 exertion to prevent up.

The hallways twisted and wound until Brigit had no estimation where she was in relation to her room. Finally, they turned into a room decorated with sumptuous fabric draping one bulwark. mosaic designs in tiles of the brightest colors decorated the former walls. A vauntingly Oriental-style rug covered a Major function of the concrete floor. Mirrors covered the ceiling. Bright pillows littered one position of the rug, and four brass instrument trays were set among the pillows.

In one niche, a man strummed an exotic instrumental role. The sound—something between a guitar and steel drum—served as background. The player was blindfolded, making Brigit marvel what form of mayhem would take place.

In the opposite corner, a bombastic cage sat in vestige. Fatima led Brigit to the John Milton Cage Jr. 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 phonation."Unless it is for penalization, and you will not want that."

"No."Brigit murmured her agreement. The cage that had looked sufficient on the out-of-door suddenly seemed much minuscule when it became her impermanent home. She couldn't stand. A professorship placed near the center meant she wouldn't have to sit on the floor, but she had no freedom of crusade. When she was seated, Fatimah secured the trinity to the top of the cage leaving her headland a few inches from the top Browning automatic rifle. The allowance account of rope stretched only from Brigit's neck to the top bar. Not only bars and metal imprisoned her, the chairwoman did now also.

"Do not forget. halt mum 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 penalty is also mine."

"I'll remember."

With a swift nod, Fatimah withdrew and locked the cage.

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

spunk pounding, Brigit gave a low shake of her head. I won't do it again, promise.

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

Brigit was wrong about the number of cleaning lady in the room. Instead of one, three had silently entered. Volumes of shimmering silk covered their legs from ankle joint to hips, though their pubic areas remained reveal. embryonic membrane of silk draped their boob, though as they moved, Brigit observed the material was untied at the bottom, leaving both os pubis and breasts available and open for any to see. And to use ? Then why bring Fatimah ?

The women gathered around Fatima. In seconds, they'd stripped her and then tied her to a chain attached to a pulley in the ceiling. The concatenation made barely a audio as one of the women pulled Fatima's men high over her head word. They secreted her under a cloak of red velvet from her fingertips to the floor. Finished with Fatimah, the women went to the brass trays and sat, sinking back on their heels and placing their manpower on their lick. They didn't look at her or even around the room.

Brigit took the chance to investigate the way further. There were no Windows, two doors—one through which they'd seminal fluid and another, bombastic one on the opposite photomosaic wall. Brigit stared at the rampart. The tiles formed pocket-size histrionics of sexual positions—hundreds of them—in all possible combining and grammatical gender. Indeed, the pattern in the ornate carpet and fabric wallcovering had the same composition. mortal lit a stick of incense, and a visible light musk scent filled the room. The environment was charged with sexuality.

The larger door opened, and three men entered, laughing and talking in what sounded alike Tajiki. One slapped another on the cover, and the tierce took a moment to bend and stroke the breasts of the inaugural woman. He said something, and she answered in a low representative. He sat beside her. The other two men took places beside the other trays. The women bowed to them and poured their drink.

The three were well-groomed, and not in the commons linen paper and cotton she'd seen on the men in the dining hall. One wore the robe of a sheik with traditional headgear—traditional based on what she'd seen on TV, anyway. The early two wore Western-style suits, though their coloring, their beards, and speech communication led her to believe they were centre Eastern.

So, the games are about to begin.

A concluding man came through the spine door and closed it. Dressed more simply than the former men, he bowed to them. Then he took charge, moving to the center of the elbow room near Fatima and speaking quickly.

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

They stood and came forward to test her, turning her this way and that, spreading her nates cheeks as well as her wooden leg, and having her open her mouth. They seemed particularly pleased with her mouth. Brigit's breadbasket 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 zilch Brigit had ever seen, though she might cause thought they played cribbage except for the dice. In turn, they moved nail down up the wooden board and down, discarded and picked up cards, and tossed the dice. After several minutes, one of the wooing shouted in victory. The sheik threw his notice across the floor, and his fille scrambled after them.

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

The man's female attendee must throw seen a signaling. She jumped up and rushed to beguile his suit of clothes jacket when he sloughed it off his shoulders. Strutting before his companions, he unzipped his trousers and released a cock that would have made Brigit gasp if she hadn't been making an exploit to stay quiet.

Once more, the girl hurried to help him transfer his brake shoe and the rest of his habiliment. When he stood naked, he turned and showed himself to Fatimah. She said something in his oral communication, her tone filled with awe, and the man's face turned arrogant. The missy moved around to stroke his erection, but he knocked her script away, preferring to caress himself, showing off his length and thickness. In the overhead mirror, Brigit saw Fatima's reaction—she licked her mouth and waggled her knife, as though to lick him instead.

The other men watched with interest. courting Two pulled his young lady close enough to finger her kitty-cat. Sheik 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 happen. The man had the large cock she'd ever seen, and he was going to take Fatima from the back.

The man strode behind the hanging fille. He grasped her hips with one helping hand and guided his cock to her rosebud with the other. Easing in, he changed his manifestation from one of smug anticipation to ecstasy. Fatima threw back her head, displaying alternating look of painful sensation, embossment, and—when he began moving in and out, a slowly, measure action—excitement. Her nerve flushed. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and the tomentum on his chest and back turned dark with moisture.

When he stepped up the tempo of his jabbing, his young lady knelt in front of Fatima. She draped one of Fatima's branch over her berm and applied a vibrator to her pussy, moving it in tandem with her sea captain's cock.

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

One of the other men stared at his companion while the young lady sucked him. The former had buried his face in his little girl's bosom and finger-fucked her. The feeling 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 pair of lax cotton pants protecting his privates from perspective. The biz went on while his girl cleaned Fatimah and gave her a sip of something from a tall glass.

The sheik kept casting cipher glance Fatima's way. Once more he lost the game, and again he showed temper in his reaction, by raising his deal to shine his girl.

case One again claimed triumph. He ripped his lightweight pants from his legs before approaching Fatima. He strode around her, stroking and rubbing his prick until it reached the same sizing and girth it had before.

He caught the backs of Fatimah's knees in the crooks of his coat of arms and spread her legs while his attendant bolstered her from rear end. Then he thrust hard and to the hilt. Fatima, as belittled as she was, couldn't have taken all of him without feeling every arduous inch as he speared her, but she didn't cry out. In his exuberance, he turned her on the chain until she faced Brigit, a captive audience in her cage. Fatimah's center appeared glaze over, unfocused. Her lid drooped and her backtalk twisted into a face. The man threw back his head and let release with a wild, trilling scream of conquest.

Brigit looked to the other mates. The instant suit had removed his jacket crown and tie. His shirt hung give, and his girl enthusiastically sucked his tool through the opening in his trousers. The fashion plate had his robes pulled up far enough for his attendant to devolve on him. He routinely reached behind and slapped her butt end to increase her pace.

Fatima moaned, bringing back Brigit's attention. The attendant held her steadfast against the man's stiff throb. She also stroked Fatima's bum hole. Fatimah lowered her principal to look down her small soundbox. Brigit raised her gaze to the mirror to watch.

His opprobrious pubic haircloth glistened with sweat and their commingled juices. His brown cock, engorged and thickly veined, pulled out of her slick channel, wet with pick, then disappeared into her slim body. Brigit was reminded of the go porn flick she'd seen, except this was real.

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

She squirmed on her narrow lilliputian 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 anterior naris, musk from the incense layered over real, human musk. Three duad writhed and moved, separately, but toward the Same end, grunting, moaning, bodies slapping. Brigit's intimation grew shallow, her pulse raced. She couldn't get a finger to her snatch, and she wanted to scream.

At that moment, someone did belly laugh. Fatima. Her hips 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 boozing and laughing. The two who hadn't had their prospect with the swag tossed the dice and threw down cards with the hysteria of men in rut. Fatima was cleaned and given a sip of the mystic liquid.

The sheik won future. Without faltering, he ordered the rophy lowered so Fatima could kneel before him. Brigit thought he would deplume up his robe and take Fatima's mouth. Instead, without word of advice, he hauled back his arm and slapped her across the case. Fatima fell to the slope. The sheik's missy rushed to avail her back to her stifle. The sheik grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Fatima's principal back.

Her back talk bled, and her cheek was reddened. Fatimah swayed, but did not make a sound. The girl wiped the origin away and then helped harbor up the fashion plate's gown. Involuntarily, Brigit started to rise. No one noticed or cared what that cocksucker had done. The others were involved in a foursome, as though pleasure was their only worry during the intermission of a game. Helpless, she sank back onto her chair.

That's what the elbow room was about, feeling good, even if a man's pleasance included a adult female's pain. Brigit wanted to go to Fatima and protect her, a humble woman, against the likes of a brutish mother fucker. More, she wanted her knee in the sheik's mole. However, neither of those matter was going to happen.

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

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

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

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

Did she get ? 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 oral fissure all at the same time. He stood, bridge player on hips, looking down at her. Breathing voiceless, she leaned forward and licked him clean. Only then did he verbalise a word that sounded to Brigit's ear as extolment. Fatima nodded and let the girlfriend help her stand while her script once more extended over her head.

How long can this go on ? Long past the point Brigit would experience begged them to stop, Fatima stood tall. She sucked the men twice more, took them in the pussy, in the ass, and in the last act of the Night, took them all, one in each orifice. They'd released her hands. The girl held her steady until she gained her breathing spell, and then they'd helped her range the sheik. Kneeling between the Arab chief's stage, Suit One inserted his monster cock into her bum. They struck up a slow, strong calendar method of birth control. courtship Two knelt at the tribal sheik's head and guided her oral fissure to his shaft.

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

Fatima lay on the base for retentive minutes. When she finally made an effort to stand, the women cleaned and dressed her. At some point, the musician had left. The man who'd stood safeguard throughout the legal proceeding strode forward to pass on Fatimah his arm. Slowly, he led her to the cage where she released Brigit. The man supported Fatima on the walk back to the room. Weak as she was, she held the leash firmly.

The kickoff thing Brigit wanted when they gained their elbow room was to pee. She'd sat for hours, unable to do anything but watch the activity in the opulent room. With impatience, she waited while Fatimah lifted the sack-dress and untied her mitt. Then, after she'd relieved herself, she remembered Fatima had not only been captive the same distance of time, 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 dog collar and pulled the bootleg 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 body to be taken in every possible way, she took care 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 gaze fastened on Brigit's without overplus."That is what I am. You have house of ill repute in your area. I heard of them when I lived there."

"Yes, but—"

"Here we are better. Our clothes are lavish. Our solid food is good and nourishing."grin and raising her hilltop she added,"You see it must be, because we need vitality to be practiced at our work. But best of all, our guests are limited. They all assure we take in our pleasance while they take theirs. This is highly strange, as I understand the business. Can you tell me dissimilar ?"

"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 of matter. Her impression was that a hooker provided what the customer wanted and didn't worry about herself. She'd always thought the intimate goal was amount, not quality, for her or the man.

"I am safe here. Do you see ? I am alive and wish for."Fatimah's centre softened."I can consider of better fashion to live, but I can believe of worse also."

Brigit couldn't keep her eyes open, and she didn't know what to say to contradict Fatima. Her family didn't want her, and so maybe this seemed like a feasible alternative. Brigit did have a family, however, and Quaker, and she knew they would walk through blast to find her. If she wasn't too far up the world's son of a bitch, they would find her. Her job was to persist alert and well so their efforts wouldn't be in vain. She'd fall apart and give in to despair when week passed with no word of saving. Then she'd jazz Omar and his employers had hidden her even from God's eyes.

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

"trade good. And now let us sleep."

"commodity night,"Brigit said. Hurry, Daddy, Mama, whoever. Please rush and get me out of here.

Posted by JackFD, with Francis Drake's permission.

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