Enslaved By The Mafians

"Oh, God! Andrej!!! Andrej!! Oh, my fuckin God!!"These were the screams coming from the office of the general manager of Tequila.Managers in every establishment were always interested and invested in the smooth running of the day to day activities at the organizations where they worked, but, not Andrej Mitroviç, who was the manager of Tequila. He was more concerned with embezzling funds, living large on company money and, just like tonight, having all kinds of pussy in his office.At present, he had a woman bent over against his work table which overlooked the CCTV cameras that helped him keep tabs on everything that went on in and around the building. His shirt was on, with his pants and boxer shorts down, but the woman was stark naked, with her clothes scattered all over the office floor."God, Andrej!! You're gonna split me in two!!"The woman he was with, Mindi, was a fairly curvy blonde who also worked as a stripper at the club, and was like a side chick of his, who he had when

Coochie quickly regretted her decision to draw the men towards her. They were now getting too lustful, and not content with just sucking on her finger. Now, they were trying to kiss her, trying to reach for and grab her boobs and even trying to drag her off the platform. Some were now waving their dicks in her face, with others attempting to scale the platform and come up to her. The message was clear: They wanted to fuck her. But, she had no such intentions. She was here to dance for them, not fuck them. Any of them. And so, she decided to call it a night. Pulling herself away from their tight grips, she stood straight and hurried off the stage.Backstage, in the changing rooms, Mindi sat, still very disgusted at herself for allowing Andrej to use her whenever and however, simply because he knew she needed the money. She was dressed now, in a sleeveless top, jean shorts, and sneakers. She was sitting here when Coochie came into the room, waved briefly at her, and hurriedly began ge

The secret destination that Mercedes had just arrived at was a house on the outskirts of the city of Los Angeles, and what she had stashed away in this house was her little sister, Daniella, whose birthday was today. Daniella and Mercedes had been born to the same parents, with Mercedes being the older one, due to being born 14 years earlier. They had both had to witness the abject poverty in their family which had led to their father taking a loan from Aleksandr Matiç, the same loan which their father had been unable to repay, and which had subsequently forced them into to a life of servitude, dependence and oppression by the ruthless Serbian. Mercedes, however, had hidden Daniella from Aleksandr's knowledge and radar, going to extreme lengths such as, locking her away from the world in a room which she was prohibited from leaving, not letting her even go to school, to prevent her being kidnapped, paying the room's rent through snaky means because Aleksandr kept eyes on her finance

40… 60... 80... 100. No, these were not the first, few attempts of a child or reminiscent adult at recapping all the multiples of 20; they were the sporadically rising miles per hour readings of the grey 1967 Maserati Ghibli, being driven by Giovanni Colpani, which was speeding down the road on a highway at a far end of the city, the part of town that 'belonged to' and was run by the Italian crime organization known as the Uomini Marrone. Gio, as he was fondly called, the only child of Don Fabrizio Colpani, underboss of the Uomini Marrone and undisputable heir to the mob crew, who was reputed to be the best marksman in the family, wasn't currently speeding because he was accelerator happy or simply a reckless driver, but because, lately, he had begun to get increasingly frustrated with his father, Don Fabrizio Colpani, and his various administrative choices, which seemed to be tilted only towards the goal of satisfying the Don's personal gratifications, neglecting the bigger picture

A box of cereal. And another one. And, oh yes, yet another box of cereal. The cart was slowly getting filled with one brand of needless junk after another.Shopping was one of the avenues through which Mercedes spent all the money she got from Tequila which she didn't know what to do with, released pent up stress, and most importantly, allowed herself room to breathe and think.Yes, she was definitely being followed, but today, she really didn't care, not wanting to add to her already overflowing list of anxieties.It had been a busy week, with her top-tier performance at the Pay Per View event, to Daniella's birthday, hushed as it was, and it still promised to be even busier, with another Pay Per View coming up in two days, which was supposed to be her second scheduled performance of the week, when she would once again be expected and aiming to captivate and intrigue grown men, who would be willing to spend their entire month's pay to see her shake her butt and touch herself. A pity,