Thread: The Life of a Sex Slave

Adolfo Bianchi was a powerful man, and at 55, he was well-experienced when it came to the Mafia lifestyle. No, he was not born into it. In fact, he worked his way up into the the ranks for years before the business was left to him. It caused a rift in the former Mafia Boss' family, but Adolfo could care less. In his mind, he deserved it, and he planned to make his son deserve it as well. He constantly reminded his son, Dante, that he would not leave the business to him just because he was family, but because people would respect him after he was gone. They spent most of their time in Vegas, owning a large and lavish mansion a little ways from the strip. It was constantly secured by many of the Bianchi's guards and was surrounded by a gate and cameras. No one went in without being checked in, and no one left without being checked out. Of course, the Mafia consisted of nearly fifty men, all in different ranks and families. They all lived well, spending more than half their time at the Bianchi mansion, and life had little worries. Money wasn't a problem, and neither was the law. It was rumor that the police chief was paid to steer his men away from the crime that was so obviously committed by Aldolfo's gang, making them the most powerful family in Vegas. And with Vegas came their business their sex slave business. Women ran from merely five grand to millions, all being specially trained and groomed for their job. Adolfo was picky about the women whom he let go through his business, for he liked to keep a reputation. But even more so, he was picky about the women he liked to keep around. Now, those women were special. Walking down into the basement, Aldofo wore a black coat, his designer suit underneath and his leather shoes spotless. One of his most dependable guards was at his side, and his son, Dante, was behind him. He looked around the cold, dark room to find Rocco, Adolfo's slave collector, nodding to small form in the corner of the room. She's a looker, he said, his expression professional. He went through this routine nearly every day, finding an unsuspecting girl to kidnap, drug, and bring to his boss. If she was kept to sell, he was paid a percentage of her sale. But if she was kept for the household, he got a raise. And young. Aldolfo looked over at the girl and let out a frustrated huff. Well, get her on the inspection table. I don't have a lot of time for small talk this evening. His voice was gruff, and his eyes were narrowed. Before she was given a chance to wake, she was being lifted on to a cold metal table. Her wrists were bound to the top corners of the table, while her legs were lifted on stirrups, then strapped securely. Going through the normal procedure, Rocco grabbed a knife and began to cut away her clothing. Dante looked from across the room, watching as her body was slowly being revealed to him. His eyes burned into her flesh, catching sight of her exposed breasts and pussy. It took a great deal of effort not to go any closer, knowing his father would want to be the one to inspect her. Dante jumped when the sound of a slap echoed through the room, though he was hardly suprised. His father slapped the girl across the face, demanding her to wake up for him. He wanted to see the look in her eyes as he violated her wanted to be the one to explain her fate.