"Do we take her harness off first?" someone asked. "That bit must be really aching by now, and see how she wriggles."
"Well, what's wrong with that?" asked Lincoln.
"Stops a guy concentrating! Distracting see?"
There were jeers at that.
"She's great as she is," said the brothel keeper. "That's how I'll do it!"
"If you come to a decent price," said Lincoln. But there was little doubt about that now, and both men knew it.
The girl must know it too. The horror in her almond eyes whenever they fell on the brothel keeper did not suggest that she looked forward to his twice-nightly shows. But at that moment she was more concerned with her immediate plight as the argument went on.
The general opinion seemed to be that it would be better to leave her as she was, squirming and bitted and arms secured behind her back, and that was how it was decided in the end.
The brothel keeper held her up in the frame, both hands at her crotch, whilst Lincoln passed a rope from a hook in the cross beam under one armpit, behind her back, and out behind the other armpit, before tying it off to another cross beam hook.
Now she dangled in the air, angled slightly forward, head held up by the reins from the bit to the harness, but bottom pushed out behind so that her continued squirming was even more pronounced.
Lincoln tied a long thin rope to the cross-beam. It dangled down in front of her face and reached the floor. Only Lincoln and the girl knew what it was for. You could tell that by the way she shrank from it and Lincoln smiled his most evil smile.
"Do we fasten her legs?" wondered Lincoln.
"Let's give her a few like that," suggested the brothel keeper. "Then fasten them to the bottom corners for the upper cut."
Lincoln nodded.
"Good thinking! That's when we take the dildoes out. And this is where you have a break to let people spend money at the bar… OK, take ten minutes. And don't handle the goods."
But the chance to handle the hanging girl was too much. The thought that she was about to be beaten made touching her flesh irresistible.
"You can charge for that!" laughed Lincoln, as he reached for another can of beer. "Fiver a feel, eh? Can't be bad!"
"Be better without the dildoes, maybe?"
"Maybe so. They could dip their fingers in ginger."
"Or push pieces up… let's try it."
It was a successful innovation. By the end of the ten minutes, which ended up more like twenty, she was squirming and wriggling better than ever, and also totally exposed. Strange little noises were coming from behind the bit, and bubbles as well.
"Line up, gents," said Lincoln. "Belts or straps or whatever at the ready, please. She'll be well presented in a minute."
He stood behind her, reached between her legs, and grasped the strong thin rope that dangled down between her breasts. Then he moved back six feet and began to raise it up…
Chapter 13
A loud bell rang, signalling the start of the sale, and Peter joined the ranks of men filing into the arena, leaving Lincoln and the brothel owner haggling over a price.
Rows of benches circled a straw strewn ring and an auctioneer stood behind a desk at the top of the circle.
"Right then, gentlemen!" he cried. "You've had your chance to look over this year's stock, it's time for the sale. No cheques, credit cards or promises. Cash only at the desk outside, payable through the teller." He looked about the congregation and waited a few moments for those still perusing potential buys. Satisfied all who wanted in were there, he started the sale.
"Here we go then. Lot number one."
As he said that, a boy wearing a white coat entered the ring, holding a lead in one hand and a riding crop in the other. At the other end of the lead was a girl in her mid twenties. She was naked and her long jet black hair was tied in a tight pony tail that came half way down her back, and between her legs was a recently groomed black pubic thatch.
The lad tapped her bottom lightly with the whip as he led the girl about the ring ensuring that she raised her legs high and all the buyers had a chance to take a good look at her. The bidding began and increased quite rapidly as the punters decided lot number one was a fine specimen, despite the fact that her history revealed she was not a first time ride.
She was a private sale from a rich landowner in Norfolk who kept the girl for his two sons. Both had broken their virginity on her and she was used for their tuition and the father's amusement. Once his boys had left the family pile he had decided to bring in new stock, preferring now to have something blonde in the stable.
By the time the bidding stopped her value had soared to well over two grand and she was on her way North to a hunting lodge in Sutherland where rich merchant bankers needed some diversion when not out blasting grouse on the heather. It must have been the pulled back hair that appealed, Peter considered, because she certainly looked the outdoor, horse riding type. Not that she was going to do much riding, being rode definitely, but only in front of a roaring Scottish log fire.
Three more girls went under the hammer and then Lincoln's young Chinese girl was brought into the ring. Evidently the sale had not gone through outside the ring.
"Right then!" called the master of ceremonies. "A nice Oriental thoroughbred here. One careful owner and as you can see, quite spirited." He turned to the lad. "Run her around," he told him. "A touch of the whip, I think. Let the gentlemen see what a sporty little thing she is."
The boy began to trot around the circle but suddenly the girl lost control of herself and began pulling at her tether.
"Keep control there!" called the auctioneer. "Let's have no dissent."
The boy brought his crop firmly across the girl's bottom making her jump instantly from the whip, the pain taking her mind away from thoughts of escape.
"That's the way lad," said the auctioneer. Then he turned to the arena and praised his young handler.
"A good boy there gents, knows how to handle the stock. See, I told you she was spirited. Make her trot, lad, legs up, head back, good, good…"
The man who'd been arguing with Lincoln stepped straight up with a large offer, but presumably not as much as Lincoln hoped to get. Once more money was banded about like it was going out of fashion, and in the end he secured her. Twice-nightly, thought Peter. An artistic flogging show twice nightly? What a life, if the man really meant it.
As substantial as her price was, though, in comparison to the sum paid for the pair of flame haired Irish girls it was paltry. Peter was almost unable to see the bidders until he noticed two men making slight gestures with their hands while speaking into mobile phones. When one of them finally dropped out, the pair were bought for thirty five thousand and sent straight out for ringing and shipping down to London.
Ringing was done in a small enclosure a short distance away from the sale area. Not all the girls were done, only those where the buyers had requested it of the vet. The Chinese girl was ringed through both nipples and inner and outer labia, and her shrieks made Peter think that he enjoyed hurting her. Perhaps he had been turned on by Lincoln's little show, because the Irish girls were subdued and silent as they suffered the same fate, performed with a sterile cattle punch. Silver hoops were then fed through the lips of each girl, and again it was the Chinese girl who howled out.
By the end of the night the sheik had bought eight girls and each was pierced in the same fashion. The girls were then lined up one behind the other and a silver chain ran between their legs connecting up one to the one either side. Peter was fascinated by the manner the men went about it, watching the young lad take across women to be done as if he were taking cows to be branded. When a queue built up after several requests one after the other, he simply hitched them up to a post where another lad took each in turn to see the vet.