"She again looked at me questioningly, turned and asked one of the older kids something in French then turned back to me, "No, no, there is no husband... These are all only my children."This was more information than I needed to know. What I did know was I needed to get away from this one. She was strange. Anyway I needed to leave pretty soon to go catch the ferry to Vancouver where I had planned to spend that night."I need to be leaving soon to get a bus for the ferry to Vancouver," I said. None of her questions were to be answered and no indication was to be given of the time.After what seemed to Sharon to be at least a dozen hours, but was, in fact, exactly three hours to the minute from her entry into the study, the Emir strode in to the room."In here," he said, indicating the bedroom, "There is a whipping bench here, as you know."In the bedroom, still fully dressed, she stared at the bench, which was pulled well away from the wall and which sat on large metal tray. Clearly. " Yes, ma'am." She didn't know, but it didn't matter. If the white lady wanted to see her pussy, Shanika would show it to her.The woman looked her over again and hurried to the next slave girl on display.And then it was time for the auction. Shanika watched as a young nervous looking teenage slave girl, maybe nineteen at the most, was sold for 450. A scruffy looking white man, old enough to be her daddy, happily led her away in chains.Nydia, who Shanika remembered from the ride to the club, was. “Okay, big boy,” said Tiffany. “It's time to get all of this cum out of you.” “Don't cum for them!” whimpered Annie, looking between her legs at me. “They need us to cum before they cook us.” I glanced at Annie, seeing her oiled, pink pussy. Her shapely, shiny legs. Her cute, oiled soles and long red toes. Her anus, a large meat thermometer dial at its entrance. Her terrified face staring at me from between it all, brown eyes, red punk hair. I looked away as an orgasm was building. .