An advertising campaign for Dolce & Gabbana provided the inspiration for this short piece.
Vittorio sensed the threatening presence of the bodyguard standing behind him, but he was damned if he was going to kneel there like some stupid altar boy. He eased back onto his heels and dropped his clasped hands into his lap. In this position he would find it slightly easier to get to his feet in a hurry. He was not going to give in without a fight, even if the others seemed to have accepted their fate.
He glanced across to Claudio who had stripped to his boxers as instructed and was now kneeling between the Boss's widely splayed thighs waiting for the word of command. Claudio's hands were clasped in front of his naked chest and his head was bowed submissively. Only the occasional twitch of his powerful shoulder muscles betrayed his fear. Or maybe he was just beginning to shiver in the chill of this huge echoing room which smelt of mould and damp.
Antonio knew it would be his turn next and he closed his eyes in an attempt to distance himself from the events unfolding in front of the unblinking eye of the camera. Only his hands, gripped so tightly together that the skin stretched white across his knuckles, revealed the extent of his agitation.
They had arrived at the crumbling palazzo that morning with such high hopes. They had gone along with things to begin with, even to the extent of wearing the ludicrous checked dinner suits with matching bow ties. But now it seemed they were to be part of an ad campaign but selling… what exactly? Vittorio didn't want to stay around to find out.