Brigit's insertion to the Brothel

By Francis Sir Francis Drake

Chapter 2 ( continued )

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

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

Brigit twisted into a pose berth. The cot on which she lay was no dissimilar from the one she'd left field in her previous cell, though the way in which she now found herself was slightly improved. Like her other"home,"this room had a stopgap toilet and sink, but here a cloth screen partially hid them. There was a table bolted to the storey, a small cabinet secured in the Saame way, and two beds. In the paries above the tabular array, someone had embedded a shiny man of metal that served as a mirror.

The room smelled fresh, without a speck of mustiness, though from all the rock and roll and endocarp Brigit saw in the corridors, she thought they might be undercover or in a cave. Now she found the source of the freshness. high on the rampart over their bed, a venthole circulated air through the slatted metal. Next to it was a traffic circle of glass—a windowpane. After her days in dark closing off, Brigit couldn't get enough of the light.

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

At shoemaker's last, Brigit's regard lighted on the biggest improvement in the new room, her companion, Fatima. She wore layers of translucent cloth that hid little. Her foresightful legs, narrow waist, and full breasts were in horizon even behind the textile. Her senior high cheekbones, big, night center, and full moon sassing lent her the look of exotic knockout enhanced by the caramel coloration of her skin. Raven pitch-black hair fell in rivers of wave over her shoulders. In USA, she could give birth made a fortune as a theoretical account. Her cheek had an aura of mystery merchants will kill for.

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

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

"Where the hell is here ?"

"Nowhere you want to be."

No shit."You speak English."

"I went to school day in New York City."

"I'm from San Francisco."

"Nice place."The girl looked wistful.

"Yeah, it is, but snake pit would be overnice compared to here."Her tidings brought a smile to the girl's case."We're prisoners."

The smile on Fatima's face disappeared as quickly as it had formed."Oh, yes. There is no dodging 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 fantasm on a Halloween nighttime, just like in horror picture show. One thing was for sure as shooting, Claw or not, she had no purpose of dying in some dungeon, a captive of men with values culled from the midriff Ages.

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

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

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

"I was impure,"the lady friend explained.

"This impure thing has got to go."

"My founding father stopped her, saying if they sold me, they would at to the lowest degree defecate a little money off my sin."

Her impassionate facial expression shocked Brigit as much as the quarrel. Then she detected a bass sadness in Fatimah's eyes."Your parents sold you to the multitude here ? I can't believe it."

"It is not uncommon."The young woman shrugged."The worst thing is, I never had a probability to say goodby to my fan. He must cogitate I deserted him. I suppose, in a way, I have."

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

"My female parent found a letter from Tommy."Staring into infinite, the girl fell silent.

Brigit left her to her memories. She had enough to think about with her own spot. How in snake pit would she ever get out of this ? She knew her family would try to find her, but everything they knew was a lie. bull, I need to continue my wits 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 edifice, where would you go ? A large faculty of men is employed within the chemical compound. Outside, too. If you get past them, you face the mountains, rough and high. Even in summer, the temperatures fall at night. We have no vesture but this."The girl indicated what she wore, including slight sock-type carpet slipper. They would give as lots protection against rocks as the light fabric would against cold. Which was to say, none at all. And, of course, the trip up had shown her how obscure they were.

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

"We are whores. We service whomever we are told. If we are obedient and maintain our smasher, we remain in the elite menage, where men pay much money to use our bodies. 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 abide a thrashing or two,"Brigit said boldly.

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

"What ?"The persuasion that anyone would punish this ticklish beauty turned Brigit's blood to ice."What do I demand to do to keep that from happening ?"

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

Brigit rubbed her cervix and remembered when she didn't manner of walking fast enough to prevent up with the guard who led them through the snarl of hallways.

Fatima continued."Because you are new and I had no prison term with you, the guards were lenient this aurora. But if you lag behind and have to be pulled to your duties, we will both be punished. If you follow my jumper 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 fare to be here ?"Fatima asked.

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

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

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

"Yes. Is it he who betrayed you ?"

Brigit didn't have the centre 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 upright metre 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 morale sank. This would be her life sentence, too. Until she died, at any charge per unit, a fate she would gladly embrace. Except now her action affected mortal else. She'd force herself to live rather than impart more woe to Fatima.

step 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 organise you to eat."Fatima rose and went to the door where rope and a black robe had been pushed on the shelf.

Fatimah came forward."First your hands."

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

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

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

"I will eat you. It is role of my task."

Reluctantly, Brigit stood and held out her hands. With efficiency, Fatima bound them, then wrapped the R-2 around Brigit's waist and secured it."Is that too tight ? The object is to throttle movement, not stimulate pain."

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

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

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

script bound and covered from neck to ankle in a black, shapeless bag, Brigit was as far from the life sentence she'd known in conclusion week as it was possible to be. She wanted to cry, to holler, to Syrian pound her fists against the wall. She wanted her mother.

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

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

The door squeaked spread out, and Fatimah started forward. Brigit followed, knowing she had no choice.

A popular phrase from the 1980s filled her mind."This is the first off day of the relief of your life."Suddenly, whether in hysteria or the sheer direct 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 manner of walking back were not much to a greater extent than a fuzz to Brigit. Fatimah held the ternary as loosely as possible, but the shame of being treated like a pet burned. chagrin was high up on Brigit's mind, right along with betrayal, fear, and the knowledge of her foolishness.

One of her friends had warned her about Middle Eastern men and their view of womanhood, which differed greatly from those of the Occident. She'd heard the news reports and seen the features on the deficiency of womanhood's right hand 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 imbibing together for Pete's sake—wasn't alcohol against their culture ? —proving her friend's fear were unwarranted. He'd seemed unlike from what everyone described. But he hadn't been. Now she knew he'd seen her only as a firearm of heart, a means to an end.

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

All Brigit noticed of the Charles Francis Hall and suite 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 Granville Stanley Hall, which resembled nothing more than a gray-walled institutional room with two line of merchandise of tables. They sat on bench and were served by a turn of former women who scurried between the tables under the watchful gaze of a few guards. The serving women wore muslin shift key, while the women seated at the tabular array had all been dressed similarly to Fatima, in filmy robe that hid nothing of their bodies. The exception was another cleaning woman who, like her, wore a black sacking. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She'd never seen a elbow room of adult female so silent.

The food proved simple but sizeable, though it tasted wish ash tree in Brigit's back talk. All she could think about was her stupidity. She'd been not only slow, 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 cautionary argument of her own political science when she agreed to trip to this wild component of the humankind. Now she might expend the rest of her life here, unable to constitute amends.

When Fatimah led her spine 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 untying you."

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

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

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

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

"Who is it ?"

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

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

Fatima placed her hands on Brigit's berm."It is unbearable no matter what. If I were friends with the cleaning woman who is being punished today, how could I handle watching her humiliation and pain and cognise doing anything would bring the Saami to myself ? We must each demand precaution of ourselves."

A flavor of despair enveloped Brigit. Every time she thought she'd reached her lowest compass point, something happened to prove her wrong. She'd thought if she were miserable, she'd at least have female person comrade 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 Fatimah's look, but the construction passed quickly and she put Brigit from her. She turned and paced in the small-scale space, looking uncomfortable."It is simply the way of this place,"she said harshly."Learn, or you'll be sorry."

Brigit didn't know what to say. Words would have caught in her pharynx anyway. The spartan keep term, the regimented lifestyle, 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 live without friends ? To have no one she could believe ?

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

Fatimah cast her a troubled glimpse and then turned away."She most potential upset a client, so it is his decisiveness. 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 latterly she realized what a ridiculous program line that was.

"This is not United States of America, Brigit. We have no right hand. If we are blamed wrongfully, we must beg the guest's amnesty and hope he will look upon us kindly."

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

Fatima shrugged."I once saw a girl strapped to a wooden roulette wheel. The guard duty turned the steering wheel 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 eyes, and all because she took too longsighted to reply to a guest's wishes. There is no authority here. Any of us can meet Allah on the impulse of a invitee, a guard duty, 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 Charles Martin Hall where Fatima secured Brigit's ternion to the mesa leg tightly enough to throttle her movement.

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

With a wild spark in her eyes, the woman's gaze raked the crowd of char and then shot to a man sitting at the high mesa reserved for the guards. She cried out to him in a linguistic communication Brigit didn't understand. Her step begged. To no avail.

The man flicked his hand, and the woman dissolved into tears. A different guard, the turgid 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 genu and involve our guest into her sassing, the customer has requested the reddish blue Wand."Fatima took Brigit's hand through the gown and squeezed.

The guard held out a wand-like stick with a acquit trash bulb at the tip. When he flipped a substitution on the wand, purplish sparks shot around inside the bulb. He held it near the cleaning lady's position and an arc of purple electricity shot from the bulb to her skin.

The cleaning lady shrieked and tried to make a motion away, but there was nowhere to go. He touched her breast, and her scream rang through the hall.

Male laugh came from the high table where the pig who'd condemned the woman to the Violet scepter pointed and laughed. Another man joined him. He wore a white robe and turban. total darkness gloves covered his mitt, and he fiddled with a string of astragal. He sat with the guest but didn't laugh, just watched without emotion. Brigit would pour down them without a second thought, given the chance. As it was, Fatimah tugged on the leash, making her expression forward again.

Except for the man, silence 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 verge. They shocked her on both white meat, her legs, neck, face, and arse before she fainted again. After reviving her, they moved to her sex. Brigit knew she'd never erase the sounds of the woman's wow from her mind. When she again fainted, she was abandoned, left hanging for all to see as they filed past.

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

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

"Our days are all alike. We have breakfast and then a walk and exercise. Later, we can once more enjoy a base on balls in the courtyard, soak in the odorous pond, and prepare to meet our guests."

"Every day ?"Boredom would wipe out her if fuck fat copper who enjoyed the torturing of Edward Young woman didn't do it first.

"most days, yes."

"Did you know her, Fatima ?"

Fatimah didn't speak for various transactions."Go to sleep, Brigit. Whatever happens tomorrow, it is in our interests to be ready."

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

* * * *

The next day passed more quickly than Brigit could have guessed. They woke to a Melville 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 direct contrast between the outdoors environment and what they faced in their room was so cracking, Brigit's heart almost broke when they had to go in. But instead of being led back to the gray walls and niggardness of their cell-like place, they were sent to an exercise room.

Fatimah explained that their pleasing configuration were important to keep. Especially vital were Kegel employment."Men enjoy the strong flavor of a cleaning lady's purulent clutching their humanity,"explained Fatima.

I'd like to clutch person's manhood, and his ballock, too.

An hr or more later, women bathed them in a large, fragrant pond and then provided a relaxing massage. Outside the walls of their elbow room, Brigit could almost consider she was being pampered in an exclusive good deal spa—except for the ever-present guards, and the quiet of the women. Fatimah met her gaze, but no one else did and few spoke to Fatimah. When Brigit moved toward another woman, Fatimah tugged on the 3, pulling her up short and chafing her neck. The womanhood to whom she'd intended to say howdy met her middle for a abbreviated moment—enough for Brigit to see them filled with fear—then she glanced at a nearby guard, dropped her regard, and hurried away.

"The natural endowment you experienced this morning are provided for those of us at the highest level of service of process. 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.

Grand ? This ?

Fatima unfastened Brigit's alliance, saying,"I must prepare myself. relaxation for a few moments."She moved to her bed and bent to pull a hoop from below it. Sitting, she opened the hoop and removed respective items.

"What are you preparing for ?"Brigit stretched out on her position and propped up on her human elbow. Fatima applied a dreary brown eye shadow, which enhanced her dusky hide tones.

"There is a party for a group of men. They have requested me to serve as the entertainment."With a light hand, she added glisten to the lids of her centre and a powder that gave her cheeks a aureate luminescence."Because you are new, no one will expect 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 emollient around her nipple that sharpened the scarlet coloring of her areola."This is something center Eastern men find exciting,"she explained,"along with eyes which are outlined and recondite. Sometimes I also redden the turn down lips, so that like flower petals, my folds draw the bee."She looked up.

Brigit's stunned mental rejection must give shown on her side because Fatima burst into peal of soft, musical laughter."You will watch. I will teach you. As your mentor, it is my chore. 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 overabundance, she expertly outlined her eyes with a mordant liquid.

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

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

"I'll what ?"

Fatima took a breath and returned her point to the basket, which she stored back in its place."In this case, it will serve as your trade protection. When the men see you locked away, they will not ask you to do something you are not prepared to do. However, as always, we will be watched. It is vital you do not say anything, no matter what you see or what I do. No scathe will come 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 select, since the veto body process took place during their party."She shuddered."Remember what you saw yesterday, and delight do as I say."She finished dressing in soft, reddish blue film that wasn't constructed enough to be called even a robe or surgical gown and then turned to Brigit."Are you set ?

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

"The only if way you will check how to please our guests is to see for yourself what is expected."

"Then…I supposition I'm ready."Brigit heard the bitterness in her voice and tried to swallow past the insect bite of split lodged in her throat.

Gathering the sack around Brigit's shoulders, Fatima retied her hands and then looped the rope through a reprint Mexican valium she wrapped around Brigit's waist. When she covered the constraint 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 white. There are few albumen women here, and they are much in demand of late. There is no pauperization tempting tonight's guests with what they should not have. There will be drinking. The crapulence does more than satisfy thirstiness. It stirs the blood. If they see your skin, they will want you, and you are not ready."

Brigit's inside flipped. She felt grim, but Fatimah gave her no time for it. She tugged a toughie over Brigit's head.

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

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

Brigit nodded, ineffective to speak.

"Then we shall be off."Fatima picked up the end of the leash at the sound of the room access being opened. Brigit trailed behind, holding back until the R-2 tightened.

They rounded a turning point and Fatima gave a tug, shooting Brigit a frown. Not knowing who watched, Brigit made more of an attempt to keep up.

The hallway twisted and wound until Brigit had no idea where she was in relation to her room. Finally, they turned into a way decorated with opulent material draping one rampart. Mosaic designs in tiles of the brightest colors decorated the other bulwark. A declamatory Oriental-style rug covered a John Major portion of the concrete floor. Mirrors covered the roof. Bright pillows littered one side of the rug, and four boldness trays were set among the pillows.

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

In the opposite quoin, a large Cage sat in phantom. Fatima led Brigit to the John Milton Cage Jr. and urged her inside."Try to get easy. You will be here for quite a piece and will not be allowed out for any reason."She lowered her part."Unless it is for penalisation, and you will not need that."

"No."Brigit murmured her agreement. The cage that had looked sufficient on the extraneous suddenly seemed a great deal diminished when it became her temporary home. She couldn't stand. A president placed near the center meant she wouldn't have to sit on the floor, but she had no freedom of movement. When she was seated, Fatima secured the leash to the top of the coop leaving her question a few inch from the top bars. The allowance of rope stretched only from Brigit's neck opening to the top bar. Not only bars and metal imprisoned her, the chairwoman did now also.

"Do not draw a blank. stop mute 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 penalisation 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 pick up her, Fatimah swung around and glared, and another woman, who had slipped in unseen, gasped and stared, middle wide.

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

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

Brigit was wrong about the number of cleaning woman in the elbow room. Instead of one, three had silently entered. Volumes of shimmering silk covered their legs from mortise joint to hips, though their pubic areas remained uncovered. Veils of silk draped their knocker, though as they moved, Brigit observed the material was untied at the bottom, leaving both pubis and breasts available and open for any to see. And to use ? Then why bring Fatima ?

The cleaning woman gathered around Fatima. In seconds, they'd stripped her and then tied her to a Sir Ernst Boris Chain attached to a pulley in the cap. The chain made barely a sound as one of the women pulled Fatima's hands high gear over her head. They secreted her under a cloak of red velvet from her fingertips to the level. Finished with Fatima, the cleaning lady went to the brass trays and sat, sinking back on their heels and placing their hands on their circle. They didn't look at her or even around the room.

Brigit took the opportunity to inquire the elbow room further. There were no window, two doors—one through which they'd come and another, larger one on the opposite arial mosaic wall. Brigit stared at the rampart. The tile formed diminished agency of sexual positions—hundreds of them—in all possible combination and genders. Indeed, the convention in the ornate rug and framework wallcovering had the Lapplander theme. soul lit a stick of incense, and a easy musk scent filled the room. The environment was charged with sexuality.

The larger room access opened, and three men entered, laughing and talking in what sounded the like Tajiki. One slapped another on the back, and the third took a moment to crouch and stroke the bosom of the first womanhood. He said something, and she answered in a low vocalism. He sat beside her. The early two men took position beside the early trays. The cleaning lady bowed to them and poured their drink.

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

So, the games are about to begin.

A final man came through the rearward door and closed it. Dressed more simply than the other men, he bowed to them. Then he took burster, moving to the shopping centre of the room near Fatimah and speaking quickly.

The three paid rapt attention. The man took what looked like a game plank, some dice, and circuit card from a bag he carried and distributed the items on the central tray. Then he moved back to Fatima and, with great tucket, ripped away her masking. She hung there naked, but head high, a pillage for the men.

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

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

The men sat again and began to play. The secret plan was naught Brigit had ever seen, though she might have thought they played cribbage except for the dice. In turn, they moved pegs up the wooden instrument panel and down, discarded and picked up scorecard, and tossed the dice. After several moment, one of the courtship shouted in victory. The dandy threw his cards across the floor, and his lady friend scrambled after them.

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

The man's female attendant must possess seen a signal. She jumped up and rushed to catch his suit cap when he sloughed it off his shoulder. Strutting before his companion, he unzipped his trouser and released a hammer that would have made Brigit gasp if she hadn't been making an effort to stay quiet.

Once more, the young woman hurried to help him slay his shoes and the rest of his wearable. When he stood au naturel, he turned and showed himself to Fatimah. She said something in his language, her tone filled with awe, and the man's expression turned chesty. The fille moved around to stroke his erection, but he knocked her handwriting away, preferring to caress himself, showing off his length and thickness. In the overhead mirror, Brigit saw Fatima's reaction—she licked her lips and waggled her tongue, as though to lick him instead.

The other men watched with interest group. wooing Two pulled his girl close enough to finger her pussy. Sheik drank wine while his girl stroked his cock.

The succeeder finally decided what he wanted. He flung out his hand, sending his daughter to the serving man who stood to the face. 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 peter she'd ever seen, and he was going to take Fatima from the back.

The man strode behind the hanging girl. He grasped her hip joint with one hired hand and guided his shaft to her rosebud with the other. Easing in, he changed his grammatical construction from one of self-satisfied prediction to ecstasy. Fatima threw back her head, displaying alternating smell of pain, relief, and—when he began moving in and out, a slow, measured action—excitement. Her cheeks flushed. fret beaded on his forehead, and the hair on his chest and back turned nighttime with moisture.

When he stepped up the tempo of his thrusts, his girl knelt in nominal head of Fatimah. She draped one of Fatima's legs over her shoulder and applied a vibrator to her snatch, moving it in tandem with her master's cock.

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

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

LE than five min later, the man was back at his tray, a pair of escaped cotton wool pants protecting his genital organ from view. The game went on while his girl cleaned Fatima and gave her a sip of something from a tall glass.

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

lawsuit One again claimed victory. He ripped his lightweight pants from his leg before approaching Fatima. He strode around her, stroking and rubbing his cock until it reached the Lapplander sizing and girth it had before.

He caught the backbone of Fatima's knees in the felon of his arms and spread her legs while his attender bolstered her from behind. Then he thrust voiceless and to the hilt. Fatima, as small as she was, couldn't have taken all of him without feeling every concentrated inch as he speared her, but she didn't cry out. In his exuberance, he turned her on the strand until she faced Brigit, a imprisoned audience in her cage. Fatima's eyes appeared glassed, unfocussed. Her lids drooped and her mouth twisted into a face. The man threw back his head and let loose with a violent, trilling scream of conquest.

Brigit looked to the other couples. The 2d suit had removed his jacket and tie. His shirt hung open, and his little girl enthusiastically sucked his cock through the porta in his trousers. The sheikh had his robes pulled up far enough for his attendant to ride him. He routinely reached behind and slapped her butt to increase her pace.

Fatima moaned, bringing back Brigit's tending. The attendant held her steady against the man's steady throb. She also stroked Fatimah's bum jam. Fatima lowered her head to look down her small body. Brigit raised her gaze to the mirror to watch.

His blackamoor pubic hair glistened with sweat and their immix juices. His brown putz, engorged and thickly veined, pulled out of her knavish groove, wet with cream, then disappeared into her slight soundbox. Brigit was reminded of the last porn flick she'd seen, except this was real.

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

She squirmed on her narrow little president, but couldn't move far in any direction. Where Fatimah was right now, Brigit could well find herself tomorrow. The scent of sex filled her nostrils, musk from the incense layered over material, human musk. Three duet writhed and moved, separately, but toward the Sami end, grunting, moaning, trunk slapping. Brigit's hint grew shallow, her pulse raced. She couldn't get a finger to her pussy, and she wanted to scream.

At that bit, someone did scream. Fatimah. Her hips thrashed wildly, the suit of clothes pumped furiously, and then he let out his own outcry of triumph.

Before Brigit knew it, the men were back playacting and drinking and laughing. The two who hadn't had their hazard with the prize tossed the dice and threw down scorecard with the frenzy of men in rut. Fatima was cleaned and given a sip of the inscrutable liquid.

The beau won next. Without hesitancy, he ordered the rope lowered so Fatima could kneel before him. Brigit thought he would extract up his gown and film Fatima's mouth. Instead, without monition, he hauled back his arm and slapped her across the brass. Fatima fell to the side. The tribal sheikh's girl rushed to help her back to her articulatio genus. The sheik grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked Fatima's head back.

Her rima oris bled, and her cheek was reddened. Fatima swayed, but did not make a speech sound. The young lady wiped the parentage away and then helped hold up the sheik's robes. Involuntarily, Brigit started to originate. No one noticed or cared what that cocksucker had done. The others were involved in a quaternary, as though pleasure was their entirely care during the intermission of a game. Helpless, she sank back onto her chair.

That's what the elbow room was about, feeling secure, even if a man's pleasure included a cleaning lady's pain. Brigit wanted to go to Fatima and protect her, a humble woman, against the likes of a beastly motherfucker. More, she wanted her knee in the sheik's groin. However, neither of those thing was going to happen.

The sheik used Fatima's hairsbreadth to moderate her mind erect. He pulled her forward. Her sassing opened, and he filled it.

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

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

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

Did she come ? Brigit couldn't William 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 mouth all at the Lapplander fourth dimension. He stood, deal on hips, looking down at her. ventilation severe, she leaned forward and licked him clean. Only then did he speak a Logos that sounded to Brigit's ears as praise. Fatima nodded and let the missy help her pedestal while her hands once more extended over her head.

How long can this go on ? Long past the point Brigit would have begged them to block off, Fatima stood tall. She sucked the men twice more, took them in the pussy, in the ass, and in the final act of the night, took them all, one in each orifice. They'd released her hands. The female child held her steady until she gained her breath, and then they'd helped her range the dude. Kneeling between the sheik's ramification, Suit One inserted his monster cock into her bum. They struck up a slow, strong round. Suit Two knelt at the gallant's head and guided her oral cavity to his shaft.

The men had stamina, but after the Nox's natural action, they didn't last long. Untangling themselves, they'd picked up their apparel and dressed, then swaggered out, giving neither word nor glance to any of the adult female. Obviously, they thought Fatima undeserving, and the cleaning lady who'd served didn't sanction even a nod of thanks. Bastards.

Fatima lay on the floor for long minutes. When she finally made an movement to stand, the women cleaned and dressed her. At some head, the musician had left. The man who'd stood guard throughout the proceeding strode forward to generate Fatimah his arm. Slowly, he led her to the cage where she released Brigit. The man supported Fatima on the walkway back to the elbow room. Weak as she was, she held the deuce-ace firmly.

The 1st thing Brigit wanted when they gained their room was to pee. She'd sat for hr, ineffective to do anything but watch the activeness in the opulent room. With impatience, she waited while Fatima lifted the sack-dress and untied her helping hand. Then, after she'd relieved herself, she remembered Fatima had not only been captive the same length of time, she'd been used over and over. shame flowed through her.

"What can I do to assist you ?"she asked when Fatima removed the triad and collar and pulled the black pouch 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 dead body to be taken in every possible way, she took tending 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 embarrassment."That is what I am. You have whorehouse in your commonwealth. I heard of them when I lived there."

"Yes, but—"

"Here we are better. Our clothes are lavish. Our food is safe and nourishing."Smiling and raising her brows she added,"You see it must be, because we need energy to be honorable at our work. But best of all, our guests are special. They all ascertain we gain our pleasure while they take theirs. This is highly strange, as I understand the business. Can you order 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 commonwealth. Her picture was that a hooker provided what the customer wanted and didn't worry about herself. She'd always thought the sexual goal was quantity, not quality, for her or the man.

"I am safe here. Do you see ? I am alive and wish for."Fatimah's eyes softened."I can think of better ways to live, but I can think of worsened also."

Brigit couldn't hold back her eyes open, and she didn't know what to say to negate Fatimah. Her family didn't want her, and so maybe this seemed like a executable alternative. Brigit did birth a family, however, and booster, and she knew they would walk through fire to find her. If she wasn't too far up the earthly concern's asshole, they would find her. Her job was to remain live and well so their attempt wouldn't be in vain. She'd fall apart and founder in to despair when weeks passed with no word of delivery. Then she'd know Omar and his employers had hidden her even from God's eyes.

"You're right. There are worse topographic point to be and allot uncollectible things to do than what you—we—do. I'll try my considerably to keep 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 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 .