Sasha settled into the plush armchair, his favorite scotch resting in his hand. He glanced at the clock on the wall - past midnight. Any minute now, his underage daughter, Mia, would stumble through the front door, her makeup smeared and clothes disheveled.
As if on cue, the door swung open, and Mia stumbled in, her movements unsteady. Sasha hid his excitement, feigning concern. "Rough night, sweetheart?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Mia rolled her eyes, "Dad, I'm 18. You don't have to pretend to care." She stormed past him, heading to her room. Sasha couldn't help but watch her, his gaze lingering on her curves.
Once Mia was out of sight, Sasha retrieved a pair of binoculars from a hidden compartment in the armrest. He positioned them, focusing on Mia's bedroom door. She changed into her pajamas, her movements fluid and graceful. Sasha felt a stirring in his pants, but quickly pushed it away. This was purely observational, he told himself.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Sasha froze, unsure if he should answer. The knocking grew louder, more insistent. He decided to take a peek through the peephole.
Standing outside was a burly man in a suit, flanked by two thugs. Sasha's heart raced. He recognized them as members of the local mafia.
The man in the suit spotted Sasha, his expression stern. "We're here for the girl," he said, his voice low and threatening.
Sasha's mind reeled. He had sold Mia to the mafia as a sex-slave, but he didn't expect them to come so soon. He stammered, trying to find the right words.
The man in the suit grew impatient. "We don't have all night," he snapped. Sasha knew he had no choice. He led them to Mia's room.
Mia was asleep, her breathing soft and even. Sasha felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly overshadowed by his excitement.
The mafia men wasted no time. They roughly woke Mia, their hands groping her body. Sasha could only watch, his breath hitching in his throat.
Mia fought back, her eyes wide with fear and anger. But it was no use. The mafia men were too strong.
Sasha felt a twinge of pride. His daughter was strong, just like he had always wanted. But it was quickly replaced by shame. He's selling her, letting these men rape her.
The mafia men laughed, their eyes glinting with cruelty. Sasha felt a surge of hatred towards them, but it was mixed with his own twisted desires. He couldn't help but enjoy the sight, even as his heart broke.
"Isn't she a feisty one?" one of the thugs commented, his hand squeezing Mia's breast.
Sasha's grip on the binoculars tightened. "Yes, she is," he replied, his voice hoarse.
The man in the suit turned to him, his expression curious. "You seem to enjoy this," he said, his voice low.
Sasha swallowed, his mind racing. "I...I'm just observing," he stammered.
The man in the suit chuckled. "Of course, you are." He stepped closer, his eyes piercing. "But I can tell you're getting off on this."
Sasha felt a surge of shame, but also a spark of excitement. He couldn't deny it. He was getting off on this.
"I can arrange something for you, if you're interested," the man in the suit said, his voice low and seductive.
Sasha felt a twinge of fear, but also a spark of curiosity. What was he proposing?
"Think about it," the man in the suit said, his hand brushing against Sasha's.
Sasha watched as the mafia men left, taking Mia with them. He felt a sense of loss, but also a sense of excitement. What had he gotten himself into?
He picked up the binoculars again, focusing on Mia's empty bedroom. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen next.
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