Page 78 of Baby Duke

"What the actual fuck is this place?" I spit at him. Impossibly, his grin only widens. "You’re raping children! Selling them! You have disgraced the Mazzuchelli name!"

At that, his mouth snaps closed, and he grabs me by the collar. "You know nothing about the Mazzuchelli name!" he all but screams. "You are soft. Weak. Everything the Mazzuchelli line despises!"

Brett is suddenly between us, shoving my father back a step. He crosses his arms across his chest before he stands by my side. Law steps up to my other side while Trent watches from a safe distance.

For some reason, my father finds Brett's intrusion hilarious, his hyena laugh setting goosebumps off along my arms. He is fucking insane.

"Ah, here comes the Spider," he grins. "Nowheis what I'd call good Mazzuchelli stock! But instead, I get stuck with a fucking baby! Isn't that right, Baby Duke?"

Brett's hand wraps around my arm, somehow anticipating that I was milliseconds away from breaking the cunts nose.

Vincent suddenly claps, and the music quiets, the sudden loss of sound causing my ears to ring.

"Welcome to The Den, my friends!" his voice booms across the room. Belatedly, I realize he has a microphone clipped to his suit. He takes up his strut from before as a spotlight falls onto him. "What a special night I have planned for you!"

Cheers, jeers, and clapping echo through the room. I turn as my father passes by. I am not letting that fucker behind my back ever. I have no doubt he would stab me in the back the second I let my guard down.

"We have some breaking in to do!"

The crowd turns almost crazed, their excited energy almost vibrating through the room. My eyes narrow as people gravitate closer to the stage, pulling and shoving their naked conquests along with them. I take a few steps forward, too, but stop when I realize whatever is about to happen has been masterminded by my sick father, and I don't think I really want to witness it so close.

Vincent steps onto the stage, which has changed since I last looked. There is no longer anyone chained and on display. Now, a padded table is the only thing besides my father to grace it.

"Sir has found us some fresh meat to play with!"

The crowd roars at my father's words.

The curtains behind him are pushed open, and my stomach drops in despair.

Mr. Foster walks out from between the drapes. He wears nothing but an unbuttoned pair of slacks and a mad smirk that promises despicable deeds. Behind him, he leads with a chain, a struggling, naked figure.

A familiar figure.

Her face is white, and her eyes are wide as they dart around the room. Her face is streaked with dry tears, and the unmistakable blossoming of a bruise darkens her side.

I throw off my mask and rush towards the stage.

"Roe!"

Her eyes find mine as Mr. Foster steps behind her shaking figure and places a wide hand across her stomach.

"West!" she gasps. Pleads. Her lips twist into something desperate and ugly.

The sounds of struggle reach me from behind before suddenly I am restrained. Cursing, I pull against the two guys holding me in place. I recognize them as Rage and the other guy from the checking-in room. In my attempt to get free, I spy my friends in similar predicaments. Even Trent is cursing and fighting to get free.

Turning back to the stage, to Roe, I watch as Mr. Foster pushes her onto the table. The staff are quick to chain her arms in place as our teacher straps one end of a spreader onto her ankle before pushing her legs wide apart and attaching the other, her pussy on display to every mother fucker in here.

My father steps around from behind her and gazes between her legs as Roe struggles against her bonds, her face reddened in shame and tears rolling down her cheeks.

He turns back to me, a wicked smirk on his face.

"Now I can see how she has you so pussy whipped, son," he says into the mic.

"Mother fucker!" I scream, fighting against the guys holding me, but I gain little ground.

"Let's get this show on the road!"

Chapter Twenty-Six

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