Page 26 of Mafia Fire

I catch the faint scent of my pussy, my shame going into overdrive as he brushes the fingers that have just been inside me against my lips. He forces a slick finger inside of my mouth, the earthy tang of my sex lighting my tongue. “Taste.”

Oh my God… I’m dying, the humiliation too much to bear. He leaves me no choice, stroking my tongue with his finger, making me taste my own sex.

“There’s a good girl. Obedient. We’re finally getting somewhere.”

His hand goes back to my ass, cupping it with his palm. His fingers dart between my thighs as he shoves his fingers inside me, hard and fast. It’s more than I can take. I gasp, clutching what I can of the bench as he fucks me with what must be three of his fingers.

It’s deeper, harder than when he first entered me, my skin and muscles stretching to accommodate the thicker girth. It burns, the pain edging on the precipice of pleasure but not quite there.

“It hurts…”

“Good. I want it to hurt. I want you to focus.” He fucks me deeper. He pulls his fingers back, then gives a name, “Ricci,” leaving a long pause before he says another one. I’m careful not to clench my muscles as he fucks me. The onslaught of the next thrust comes, hard and deep. The pain turns to need, my sex wanting more stimulation, to be fuller, to be entered even harder, faster.

It’s almost impossible to keep from clenching as I lie limp over his lap, panting. The names keep coming. “Bianchi… Rossi… Russo… Romano… Meralo…”

I tense. He said it. He said the name.

His fingers are all the way inside me, waiting, as if he already knows the answer, his palm cupping my ass. Shame fills me as I force myself to do what he said. I squeeze my muscles, clenching my pussy tight around his thick fingers.

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls his fingers from me, leaving me empty and aching with desperation.

“Wait!” A cry of desperation bursts from me. “I thought if I obeyed, you’d give me what I want…” I’m too shy to say “come,” or “orgasm.” I glance over my shoulder, searching for his face, to see if he knows what I’m trying to say, but he’s not looking at me. His hand goes to his chest, to his shirt pocket.

My ass cheeks clench as he grabs the black handle, his embossed emblem catching my eye as he pulls the paddle from his pocket.

“Meralos,” he says absently, dragging the cool leather of the paddle over my curves. “I thought so.”

“If you knew, why play the game?” I give a wriggle of my hips, the paddle making me curious, my poor pussy still begging to be taken to that next level.

He taps the end of the paddle lightly against my right ass cheek. “For my enjoyment. You owe me a little fun after the trouble you caused.”

“Fun?” My voice is weak, my limbs slack, while my core remains burning and tight.

He pushes the fabric of my clothing away from my skin. I tremble as he drags the leather paddle over my bare ass.

“Time for our second game. I’m going to paddle your ass while you answer my questions.”

My body is so frustrated. The pent-up energy he built inside me provokes my desire to fight back. “Don’t be so sure I’m going to tell you what you want to know—” His big open palm cracks against the center of my ass, choking off my words. “Shit!”

His hand leaves my ass, finding my lips. He shoves his fingers in my mouth, the sweet taste of my sex against my tongue once more. “Watch your language. It’s ‘yes, sir,’ or ‘no, sir’ from here on out. Understand?”

He pumps his fingers in my mouth, leaving them there. He forces me to answer with his fingers filling my mouth, pressing against my tongue.

I answer the best I can, the words coming out lisped in my humiliation. “Yes, sir.” But it comes out jumbled, sounding silly.

He takes his fingers, wet with my spit, and pushes them back inside my pussy. He leaves them there, filling me, but doesn’t move them. I let out a deep moan of despair, wanting to move my hips, to make him fuck me, but I don’t dare. Not after the spank that still burns across my ass.

His paddle hand strokes the toy against my curves. He lifts it, bringing it down in a sharp smack. It stings just like I knew it would. My sex clenches around his fingers as the fire spreads over my skin. The warmth from the paddle strike creeps between my thighs. He pumps his fingers inside of me.

His voice is low, husky with the pleasure he gets from his play. “Tell me. Are you in danger because of something you did…” The paddle comes down, sharp and sweet, and I suck in a sharp breath. “Or something someone else did?”

I can no longer protect my grandmother’s feelings from the truth. I need my own protection. And this position he has me in, the power he wields over my mind and body, has me as weak as I’ve ever been.

I lay my forehead against the cushion of the bench, defeated.

I break, telling the truth. “Someone else, sir.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. You said you don’t like lying. Is that true?”

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