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God of Gamblers

Sanjay is a name feared by those in the know. This is his story. A tale of an ordinary teen, beset by circumstance, haunted by tragedy. Driven, he climbs handhold by torturous handhold to become the God of Gamblers. A God is not born. Like swords, they are made and forged. One blow at a time. Each strike yielding a purer blade. -- Note: Complex, developing characters. Some graphic scenes. Release Schedule: Chapter 1-30 : One chapter a day Chapter 31+ : One chapter every 2 days Work in progress. I am a new writer just beginning to explore this world. Thank you for your patience, support, and your faithful reads. Disclaimer: Gambling is for entertainment only. If you choose to bet, bet only what you can afford to lose. This, at the very end of it all, is but a work of fiction. For WPC #126.

DuWang · Realistic
Not enough ratings
52 Chs

The Underside of Society

James looked down at his phone.

"Hey James, it's your man Vic. Tonight 5PM okay?" Victor had asked.

"Sounds like a plan. Where?" James replied.

"I'll send you the address. Dress casual." Victor responded.

Immediately afterwards, an address on the seedy side of town, not too far from where he had originally lived, arrived onto his phone.

James keyed in the address on his computer and looked it up online. It was a strip club known for it's clandestine activities that was right smack in the middle of gang controlled territory.

"I guess Victor took me very seriously when I said rougher side of society. I wonder how he knows these people." James mused to himself.

---

Later that evening, a black limousine pulled up in front of a dilapidated looking three story building. The front of the building boasted several neon signs, most of which had a variant of "Girls Girls Girls" or "Lap Dances Here" flickering against the slowly darkening sky.

All of the exterior windows had been boarded up, and at the front of the building, a huge line extended around the block. Despite the obvious hunger of the crowd, and the slow moving motion of the line, most of the would-be patrons were well-behaved.

This was clearly due to two factors. First, if you had no backing amongst the underworld, only a fool would start trouble. Second, even if you were known or affiliated in the underworld, there were four huge bouncers standing at the door, each with a menacing look on their face, and a tell-tale bulge around the small of their back.

In street speak, these dudes were packing heat, and they didn't look shy about using it.

James stepped out of the limousine, thanking the Organization driver as he did so. It never hurt to be polite. As he swung around to face the strip club, James was greeted by jeers and catcalls from the crowd.

"Woo hoo. Look everybody, it's a big shot. Welcome to the shit part of town, Mr. Big Shot, now get in line with the rest of us." A voice from the crowded shouted to encouragement and loud laughter.

"Don't you know you gotta make reservations in advance? We've been trying to get in for two years." The heckling continued.

"Hey chink, this isn't Chinatown." A particularly loud voice booed. The crowd got a kick out of that one.

James shrugged to himself and took out his phone.

"Hey Victor. Looks like a long line - do we have a shortcut to get in?" James sent.

"Yeah, just tell the front guy you're a guest of mine. No need to grease his palms. He'll get the message." Victor responded quickly.

James started walking towards the entrance of the club.

"Hey hot shot, the back of the line is that way!" Another hostile voice emerged from the crowd. The mob started to mutter dangerously at the thought of a rich patron getting to cut the line.

James ignored the voices and walked up to a bouncer.

"Yeah?" The chosen bouncer grunted.

"I'm a guest of Victor's." James said confidently.

"Oh. Sorry for the hassle sir. Please come in." The bouncer's tone changed to one bordering almost on respect.

The bouncer removed the velvet rope separating the line from the entrance and escorted him in through the door.

"Hey, why does the rich guy get to cut the line?" The smart-alecks in the crowd jeered questioningly.

"This here is a guest of El Jefe. Would you care to address your concerns directly to him?" The bouncer escorting James turned around and said simply.

"Oh fuck. Sorry sir. I didn't mean any disrespect. Please enjoy yourself and have a good time." The crowd turned docile immediately.

"Who's El Jefe?" James asked the bouncer curiously. Surely that was not a reference to Victor.

"The boss." The bouncer responded simply. "Word will pass around soon. You will no longer have to worry about your safety in this part of town. Your well-being is guaranteed."

"Thanks man." James expressed his gratitude.

"Thank El Jefe." The bouncer said.

Without further ado, the bouncer led James into the dark club.

Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, James took a quick look around. The first thing he noticed was the huge stage in the middle of the room, with skimpily clad and naked dancers gyrating to the beat of the music. The entire central column of the building had been hollowed out, and the metal dancing poles extended all the way from the stage to the roof.

Scattered along the first floor were numerous couches and tables, with patrons either drinking and watching the show, or getting a lap dance of their very own without having to share the attentions of their dance partners.

A particularly talented dancer was perched precariously against a pole halfway to the top of the roof, and the crowd was chanting eagerly as she reached behind herself to undo her bra. James watched as she gripped onto the pole using her legs before leaning back and letting her puppies loose.

Around the central column, James saw multiple private balconies on the second floor filled with more distinguished clientele, some of whom already had female companions seated alongside and atop them.

The third floor had what looked like a wall of privacy frosted glass, allowing the interior occupants to enjoy the view outside whilst denying that same freedoms to anyone brave enough to look up.

James was led up amidst the chaos to the second floor and into the largest room. Although the crowd had been inebriated and disinclined to make way, a single look at the bouncer's expression was enough to clear a path.

The room was mostly sound-proofed, as evidenced by the loud din outside fading into a muted roar. Couches were laid out around the room, with huge flat-screen televisions providing a zoomed in look at the dancers below.

On the couches were sat four individuals. Victor with his arms around a young looking Latina girl, another young looking white female, and a middle aged Latino male with a fierce expression on his face.

Upon seeing his entry, Victor's eyes lit up.

"Hey James! Welcome man. Thank you for coming all the way here. I know it's not quite our usual haunt, but my friend is more comfortable here in his own territory." Victor said, waving to the other person in the room before continuing, "Besides, El Jefe's place specializes in young fresh meat that can sometimes be more tender than the well-baked ones at your place."

"No worries Vic! It's my honor to meet you El Jefe." James responded politely.

"Sit, sit." The fierce looking Latino said, "Any friend of Victor's is a friend of mine. Come, tell me what your taste in women is."

James sat down on an empty couch and smiled, "I've yet to sample anything other than Chinese food El Jefe."

"Good good. Call me Jose. I will find you a fresh companion, previously untouched." Jose said casually.

Minutes later, a teenaged white girl dressed in a cheer-leading outfit came bounding in through the door. Her hair was done up in two pigtails, and her makeup tastefully applied to give a veneer of youth. She bounced over to James and sat down casually on his lap, before picking up his hand and sucking his finger as if it were a lollipop.

"Hello daddy," she said, "My name is Angel."

"Hi Angel. I don't mean to look a gift horse in the mouth, but uh... how old are you?" James asked hesitantly.

"I'm eighteen. Don't worry, it's a common question. Here, my ID is on the lanyard around my neck." Angel said, before pulling the front of her uniform down and leaning over for James to look.

James caught an eyeful before he tore his gaze away to look at the ID. Indeed, the young lady on his lap was eighteen.

"Don't worry James. Jose is a good guy. He sources his goods from the university students who are looking to make a quick buck. If you like Angel, you guys can take a quick trip to a room on the third floor. Anyway, Jose is the boss of his organization and controls this part of town." Victor reassured.

"Si amigo," Jose smiled, "Angel here is new to our business. She is intacta. Virgin. She will be my gift to you for our new friendship."

"Thank you El Jefe, I am in your debt." James answered politely, using the honorifics to show his sincerity.

"Jose please. Like I said, any friend of Victor is a friend of mine. Victor and I went to the high school together. He has been a good investor in many of my ventures. A gracious winner, and an even more gracious loser." Jose said, answering James' unspoken question about how the two knew each other.

Upon hearing Jose's words, Angel started grinding against James. She leaned over to his ear and whispered, "Take me upstairs daddy. I've been a bad girl and I need punishment."

"Please, be my guest. Take the edge off and we can chat properly later." Jose smiled encouragingly as he waved towards the stairs.

Angel stood up and skipped towards a hidden staircase in the corner of the room, dragging James with her.

Behind them, James could hear Victor and Jose laughing uproariously.