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My name is Michael, and I am the heir to a large automobile company.
That also meant that I didn’t need to lure girls to me… they automatically come to me. They all thought that they are smart, and that they’d be the ones to marry me and get my money, but well, none of them could. A lot of them never even see the light of day again. What that meant is, other than being the heir to the company, I also do some… secret things, things that involves girls.
Surprising or not, inside my mansion, well, under the mansion if a large dungeon that my father built to keep his slaves, and now that he’s old, it was mine. It is really something that plagues nightmares.
The dungeon is 12100 meters squared in area, extending far beyond the mansion itself, but ending somewhere in the large garden of the house.
In there are 80 cells, a hundred meters each in area. Yes, that is quite a large area, but my father liked them that way, and so do I. I keep a slave in each of the cells, each one having their own furniture, and everything, including a bathroom that is transparent, so that everything inside can be seen from the outside.
The dungeon is pretty much squarish, with a single stairs down in the center, the cells are placed in rows and columns, each one having 9 cells, which would be a total of 81 cells, minus one in the center for the staircase.
When I inherited from my father, I had to let go of quite a few of them. Some were already too old for me, whilst others are not to my liking. Of course, let go here means one of two things. The sane ones are killed, whilst the ones that have turned insane, I have no idea why my father still kept them, are let out into the streets, anonymously. Yes, most likely investigations would begin again, but it won’t last long. They’re insane, they can’t prove anything to the judges.
And that’s the only thing that worries me, people suing me over the disappearances of their daughters. A lot of them, I was responsible for, but I wasn’t going to admit to, wasn’t I?
But it is all good, since my father had taught me how to avoid the trouble. It is well known that I have a lot of girlfriends, all legal, and their disappearances could cause trouble. But I knew to make sure that they are also linked to plenty of people, and that girls who I don’t know but are linked to them disappeared as well. There simply was no proof, except for the speculation, but if girls I didn’t know disappear, there is pretty much nothing to support the speculations, wouldn’t there? And that’s how I got through day by day, using people to brand others to save my own hide… and to acquire more slaves.
And to really enjoy them, I, like my father, did not allow employees to stay overnight, except for the butcher who had stayed with us for a long time. In fact, he was the one who helped my father set everything up, so I give about 5 of the girls to him for him to do whatever with. He has his own dungeon below where he lives. I don’t want to know what the old geezer does to them.
Me, well, I am not really like my father. When he left me the dungeon, I had a closer look at them and found out that many had suffered intense pain and torture. I was not the sadistic type, like my father, who liked to maim his slaves and keep them there. I wasn’t THAT sadistic, at least not yet. But mostly, I prefer them to love me, not fear me. I have gotten a lot of them to do so already, and when I gain new slaves, I try to make sure that they would serve me with out any incentives as well. Of course, it was pretty much impossible to find someone like so, but I have my methods, before I actually add them to the dungeon. Of course, it doesn’t work a lot, so usually it’s in the dungeon that they learn.
But I try my best, sifting through the girls that try to visit me everyday.
My own secretary, Emily, helps me.
Today, as usual, she visited me in the morning, as usual…
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