(All the main characters are over 18 years old, and these stories are products of my imagination).
(My language is Spanish and I am not very fluent in English, so I sincerely apologize for any possible mistakes that may occur).
While we have some ice cream, I explain to Uncle Francesco what I plan to do with my former classmates now turned into slaves; my uncle does not interrupt me at any time and only when I finish speaking, he exposes me some of his thoughts and ideas.
When I called Uncle Francesco early in the afternoon to use his contacts to buy my classmates without them noticing until it was too late, I knew full well that some of my mother's family business, both in the United States and in Europe, was not legal, but what I knew was nowhere near what my uncle began to tell me on that terrace.
As soon as I finished talking to you this afternoon I called your mother to tell her everything you intended to do;' my uncle tells me, making me feel uneasy about what my mother might think of all this, 'After talking to her for a while, we decided it was time to tell you some things about the family business that sooner or later you were going to have to know;,' my uncle adds in a serious and ceremonial tone.
It has always bothered me that tone that some people use with me thinking that I do not know things and I interrupt my uncle a little angry, 'Get to the point uncle Francesco, I have known for years that the family businesses are trafficking in arms, drugs and God knows what else.'
'The family has never dealt drugs!' my uncle tells me raising his voice a lot, 'With the arms dealing you are right, the family started in World War II and we still maintain the activity, arms are the best way to pay some of our contacts for their exclusive goods;' he adds relaxing his voice again.
As you well know, the origin of our family goes back to the eleventh century, when the Republic of Venice began to take control of trade in the Mediterranean, starting from a small flotilla of four Cocas soon the family fortune grew to become one of the most powerful and respected families of maritime trade in the Mediterranean;' my uncle tells me.
I am going to interrupt him, but he raises his hand and continues speaking, 'I know that you know all this history since you were little, what you don't know is that the main merchandise with which the family traded in those early years were slaves; thanks to various trade agreements, for two hundred years they had a monopoly on the purchase and sale of slaves in the main ports of North Africa, the business has remained active until today, focusing in recent years exclusively on female slavery;' my uncle continues explaining to me.
Before we continue talking and watching me devour one ice cream after another, my uncle orders two plates of vermicelli con le vongole and a bottle of Sassicaia 1985, 'I hope you like it;' he tells me, 'It's your mother's favorite wine, she likes it so much she bought the winery for ten times its value;' he adds.
Until I hear my uncle order the food I am not aware that I haven't eaten anything since I had breakfast at the hotel this morning; we wait for the food and wine to be served before we continue talking.
'Your great-grandfather Enrico used during the second world war the resources and routes of the family to introduce arms and supplies to the resistance and to facilitate the landing of the allied troops; although he did not miss the opportunity that the conflict gave to acquire some unique goods, in those years he managed to unite all the families under his leadership taking control of all the slave trade in the Mediterranean.'
'When your grandfather died, your mother was finishing college and had just met your father; we decided that I would take over the business in Europe and she would take over the business in the United States, becoming the head of the family;' my uncle continues to tell me.
'About ten years ago the five European organizations that controlled the slave trade got together to take the next step, thanks to bribery, blackmail and murder in two years Europe passed the laws of female slavery, and we divided the business of selling and processing the slaves;' concludes my uncle.
When we finish talking, my uncle tells me that he has sent my new slaves to the Processing Center that controls the family. The drive there is very short, I barely say a word processing all the information my uncle has told me.
It is almost eight o'clock in the evening when we arrive at the company offices, although there are several large processing halls, we head to a small warehouse integrated into the office building, 'This area we use to process special goods, away from prying eyes;' my uncle tells me smiling.
As we enter the warehouse, I am surprised to observe my six classmates and Clara tied on wooden frames being attended to by several naked young women, as I look at their collars it is obvious to me that they are slaves; 'I hope you don't mind that the processing slaves have started to prepare them;' my uncle tells me.
I can't help but look at the dozen or so slave girls moving around processing the seven young women who now belong to me; as I focus my gaze on them, I see how they all have their bodies wet and shiny after having been washed, their pussies have been thoroughly shaved and I smile as I watch them struggle with their restraints and try to protest in their gags every time any of the processing slaves approach them.
Seeing my curious look, my uncle grabs my arm to bring us closer and begins to give me explanations, 'The normal processing is carried out by hired personnel, both male and female, these slaves you see here are some of the hundreds of slaves owned by the family;' my uncle explains to me.
According to the law, all the slaves must have their whole body permanently shaved from the neck down and wear a tracking chip, if they stay in Europe they must wear the collar with the identification card, but as you take them to New York they will be tattooed with the bar code on the lower back; also our company when we process the slaves we inject them with a contraceptive and an aphrodisiac that keeps them excited until the moment of the sale, which is usually three or four days later.'
'In the case of your slaves the effects are permanent unless you want to breed them;' adds my uncle, 'The rest of the modifications you have told me about you can explain to them personally;' Uncle Francesco tells me smiling.
The processing slaves pause waiting for my orders; first I approach Clara who looks at me with a mixture of fear and excitement, with one hand I grab her head and give her a kiss on the lips to which she responds shyly as I bring my other hand to her pussy finding it completely soaked; when I break the kiss and pull away from Clara, she keeps her mouth open looking for more.
'Easy sweetheart, nothing will happen to you;' I tell Clara as I stick two fingers in her pussy making her moan with pleasure, 'You are going to come to New York with me and continue your studies there, you are going to be my slave and my lover, I never imagined you could enjoy so much with a woman; plus you are going to help me tame these six bitches;' I tell her pointing to my classmates, 'Now they are going to put my brand on you so everyone will know who you belong to;' I add before bringing her to orgasm.
While one of the processing slaves places a ball gag in Clara's mouth, another one of them gives her the two injections my uncle mentioned a few moments ago, and then brings me a small pistol; as I take it and pull the trigger, I see how a narrow metal bar comes out a few centimeters, at its end it has an epsilon inside a circle, as I hold the pistol tight the bar heats up until it becomes red hot.
I smile at the sight of the mark my uncle has designed for me and let the gun cool down, when it does I place it over Clara's shaved pussy and pull the trigger again, Clara's scream is drowned out by the gag, and the smell of burning flesh reaches my nose, after about ten seconds I release the trigger and withdraw the gun; quickly one of the slaves applies a pigment to the mark so it acquires the red color I have asked for and then covers it with a dressing.
I remove Clara's gag and kiss her again to reassure her, 'It's all over now sweetheart;' I say kissing her again, 'We'll leave the piercing of your clitoris for tomorrow, now these slaves will take you to rest;' I add signaling to one of the processing slaves.
As I am about to walk away from Clara, her voice stops me, 'Please Mistress, pierce me now, I want to be yours completely.'
I look at one of the processing slaves and confirm Clara's words with my head, as soon as she sees my signal, the slave acts quickly and after a couple of studied movements, Clara's clitoris is adorned with a small golden ring from which hangs a thin gold chain of about three inches.
I wait while the processing slaves release Clara from her restraints, due to the pain of the branding and piercing plus the excitement of the orgasm my new slave is about to fall to the floor and has to be restrained until they bring a chair for her to sit on, 'Let her rest for a while;' I order, 'Besides I want her to see what is going to happen next.'
I approach my classmates, who are trying to scream and protest through their gags, 'Remove their gags;' I order the processing slaves, who quickly release the mouths of the six young women.
I approach my classmates, who are trying to scream and protest through their gags, 'Remove their gags;' I order the processing slaves, who quickly release the mouths of the six young women.