Subgated by the mafia

2. Rose

I woke up with an intense feeling of lethargy.

It was as if I could not be in my full senses, as if a dazed feeling had shaken me completely, and for a moment I just felt like I was in a nightmare.

My head ached frightfully, and when I went to bring my hands to my temples, I couldn't; something was pulling my arms tightly as I did so. That made me open my eyes quickly. It was in that instant that I realized that I was in a bed with white sheets that looked dirty, and I had my hands chained to some rings that were placed above my head.

I felt shivers.

Where am I? I thought in shock.

I looked around to realize that I was in a dull gray room that had little light, no windows or ventilation, only a small bathroom that seemed to have seen better days, and a door that turned out to be the only way out. I could not believe my situation, then memories came to me like flashes of light.

“I was kidnapped." I mumbled in disbelief.

I had been a fool, all for trying to be less shy.

I couldn't help shedding tears.

Just then the door opened, and in walked Chiara with a bag in her hand as well as a large plastic box. She was dressed like she was a Playboy bunny, and all I could wonder was what it was all about.

It was completely crazy.

“Hi, Rose, I'm going to let you out so you can put on something I brought so I can fix you up," she said in a serious tone, and I shook my head because I was scared. “You must do it, or you will be reprimanded.”

“Why are you doing this to me? Help me get out of here.”

She sighed before denying.

“I'm sorry, Rose, but I can't help you.”

“I'm not hurting anyone."

“It's either you or me, and I have a lot to take care of, so don't try to manipulate me," she excused herself before lifting her shoulders. “If you want to stay alive, do as I say, and everything will pass quickly.”

“It's never going to pass quickly; you're keeping me here against my will," I spat painfully. “What do you want me to think when you admit that you are going to help me?”

“I can't do it because if I do, they will kill me, and just as your life is important, so is mine and my family's," he said seriously. “The people who have you trapped here are bad; they are capable of hurting women without hesitation. Take my damn advice: don't be a drag.”

“Who are behind all this?”

She was about to answer when a tall, burly man with a scar on his face came in with a bag and handed it to Chiara.

"Let her dress with this; the doctor confirmed that she is a virgin, so she will go on display for the night.”

Chiara nodded, and the man stood in the doorway.

“What are you talking about?”

“You ask too many questions for your own good; I'm going to release you to wear what's in the bag, but if you do anything stupid, he's going to cut your hands off," Chiara sternly spat.

She proceeded to remove my chains while I couldn't help but tremble.

“Why is he doing this to me?” I asked with deep pain.

“Because beautiful women like you are all it takes in this world to make a lot of money," she replied as she finished unchaining me. “If you are submissive, you will make it out of this alive; otherwise, you will end up at the bottom of the Mediterranean as fish food.

When she pulled out the contents of the bag, I realized it was a tiny white babydoll that left nothing to the imagination, one that made me understand that I was just another victim of the trafficking of women.

“Let's get you fixed up.”

I don't know how, but she waxed me all over, then made me take a bath to put on the damn undergarment with the man with the scar, like a vigilante on the prowl. It was disgusting, and just as I was about to give up, this one showed me a gun, and I had no choice but to play along with Chiara.

She took her time putting cream on me, perfuming me, fixing my signature wavy blonde hair, and having the audacity to put make-up on me. At that moment, I realized that I had been turned into a doll.

My freedom had been taken away from me.

“She's ready," said Chiara, and the guard grabbed my arm and dragged me down some dark corridors.

“If you weren't a product, I would have taken you to my bed... You are beautiful.”

I felt disgust just listening to him.

When we turned towards a door, a woman gave me a glass with a drink that I was afraid to drink. The guardian got rough and made me swallow it by force, so I couldn't help spitting and coughing everywhere.

“If you're too smart again, I'll cut out your tongue.”

That made me deny quickly, and someone said something in Italian. Then there was laughter in the background, and he took me to a kind of platform where I was exhibited while I felt dizzy.

I didn't know how I controlled the gag reflex; the drink must have had something in it to make me like that, but the bunch of spotlights shining on me made me raise my arms to protect my eyesight.

At that instant, the whistling began.

“Tonight is very special," said a man over the microphone. “Today we have for you an exquisite, foreign, and virgin product.”

The applause was heard everywhere, so she could not help but tremble with panic when she realized that she was exposed to a bunch of degenerates.

“Well, this Bella virgin is everything any man could want; she is beautiful and will be easy to tame, so we start the bidding at 1 million dollars.”

The cheers were deafening, to the point that I brought my hands to cover my ears.

“2 million.”

“3 million.”

“4 million.”

I felt like throwing up; I was so nervous I couldn't help but cry, which seemed to make them all the more excited.

They were going to break me, and a part of me, the braver part that was in the deepest recesses of my being, urged me to stand up straight to try to show some resentment for the situation, to put up some fight in a battle I knew I was losing.

So, I wiped away my tears and glared hatefully at them, though the truth was that I was afraid and too lethargic to respond.

“Five million.”

After that number, I lost track of time and of what was going on around me. I just mentally repeated to myself that I had to wake up from that horrible nightmare to return to my safe place.

“Ten million?”

“Ten million," answered another voice. “This woman is going to be mine.”

“Fifteen million.”

“Eighteen million.”

“I don't pay that much for a kitten who looks like she just wants to bite her master," said a man in the background, and the others laughed.

“I do; she's a goddess, so I bid twenty million.”

Suddenly, a red light began to flash.

“We have a bid from the VIP room," said the speaker.

“50 million.”

People gasped at the amount, then silence ensued as most seemed to have recognized the voice, and I just felt angry that my life was no longer my own.

After that, no one wanted to bid.

“Sold to the lord of the Camorra!”

People applauded amid whistles; I couldn't catch the comments; I only registered what seemed to be what the master of ceremonies had said: the lord of the Camorra.

The word had previously registered in my mind, but it wasn't until the man with the scar grabbed my arm to pull me off the platform that I understood its true meaning.

“You have been chosen by one of the most important mafia lords in the region; if you don't want to die, do what the Diavolo asks of you without complaining," he warned.

I held back a cry of panic at his words, words that instilled in me all the dread in the world.