Chapter 3 The trip to the dining hall, the meal, and the walk back were not much more than a blur to Brigit. Fatima held the leash as loosely as possible, but the shame of being treated like a pet burned. Humiliation was high on Brigit’s mind, right along with betrayal, fear, and the knowledge of her foolishness. One of stockings her friends had warned her about Middle Eastern men and their view of womanhood, which differed greatly from those of the West. She’d heard the news reports and seen the features on the lack of women’s rights in places like Afghanistan, but she’d ignored all that. Omar hadn’t fit any of the stereotypes. He’d Tranny 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 fears were unwarranted. He’d seemed different from what everyone described. But he hadn’t been. Now she knew he’d seen her only as a piece of meat, a means to an end. Granted, she wouldn’t have wished this shemale joint on his sister or any other woman. But that did not give him the right to imprison 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 hall, which blowjob resembled nothing more than a gray-walled institutional room with two lines of tables. They sat on benches and were served by a number of other women who scurried between the tables under the watchful gaze of a few guards. The serving women wore muslin shifts, while the women seated at the tables had all been dressed similarly to Fatima, in filmy gowns that hid nothing of their bodies. The exception was another woman who, like her, wore a black sack. No one had spoken, certainly not to her. She’d never seen a room of amateur women so silent. The food proved simple but ample, though it tasted like ashes in Brigit’s mouth. 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 cautionary statements of her own government when she agreed to travel to this godforsaken part of the world. Since cleaning the house is not tops on my fun amateur list, I told her sure. “Yes, de stress,” Miss Jones confirmed. What a sight! She pulled her finger out shemale of Laura's twat, looked at it for a moment, and then wiped it clean on Laura's breast. Sandy groaned and pushed forward as far as she could, trying to offer her cunt to anyone who wanted stockings it. She inhaled and exhaled a few times, clearly nervous. “What happened?!” I asked. I replied, picking up my empty sandwich bag. The manageress went round the blowjob front of the desk and looked at the other girl. I’m sorry if I went to far. My balls had replenished their Tranny supply of cum and my body was getting ready to have sex with the girl once more. “I will show you both how good I am at pleasing my man while I suck his cock. And she loved it. After what seemed an eternity she felt the splash of Mr. Simon's cum deep in her stretched pussy. “Oops, guess I should have asked that before you stuck your dick in me.” Taking them back to Michelle’s place, they invited us to come by the next afternoon and swim in their pool. The sharp cracks rang out like rifle-fire. "Daddy!