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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / Mafia Doctor: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance by Parker Fox – Extended Preview

Mafia Doctor: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance by Parker Fox – Extended Preview

“You need it to hurt, don’t you?”

Aurora lay there speechless until he pinched her right nipple through her shirt. Hard.

She cried out in pain just as he pinched the other, eliciting a second yelp from her.

“Answer me, Aurora. I expect the truth.”

The truth? How would he even know whether she was telling the truth?

He’ll know.

He always seemed to know. Even when his emails and calls had gone unanswered, he’d been able to track her down, and now it seemed he was able to read her body like a book.

A really dirty book.

After another long moment, he asked again, “Your pussy wants it to hurt, doesn’t it?”

This time, she replied right away with a “Yes…” that was more a moan than actual words.

He lifted the hem of her shirt, then a long moment passed before she felt cold metal against the bare skin of her tummy.

Is that a knife?

A jolt of fear hit her as she realized that it was. She froze and breathed in deeply, attempting to keep her fight or flight response at bay.

With the distinct sound of rending cloth, the blade began a slow journey from just below her bellybutton, up through the valley between her breasts, and all the way to her neck, until the front of her shirt had been fully cut open. He left the halves in place for now, resting precariously on her braless breasts, drawing out the process of baring her. Her anticipation built, as no doubt he wanted it to, until finally, with the gentlest of motions, he pulled the torn halves of the shirt apart to expose her upper body completely. Her quivering breasts and hard nipples were now fully on display for him.

As the cool air of the room wafted over her already achingly stiff nipples, Aurora felt the now-familiar sensation of her pussy clenching. As sensitive as her nipples had been during his gentle touches and his harder pinches through her shirt, she knew that sensitivity would be heightened exponentially now that the protection of the thin cloth had been taken from her.

Seconds passed, and then perhaps a minute, and he did nothing. She couldn’t tell for sure with her blindfold on, but she suspected he was simply enjoying the view. In normal circumstances, she might have said he was ogling her, but that didn’t seem to fit here. He wasn’t looking up her skirt as she went up an escalator or taking a surreptitious glance down her blouse as she sat drinking coffee at a café. She was bound, helpless, and almost completely nude. She wasn’t merely on display for him. It was as if she was meant to be looked at by him. As if her body knew that providing pleasurable viewing for him was part of her intended purpose.

You were meant to be his, and you like that he’s admiring you.

At last, she felt the movement of air on her skin as his hand descended, and a moment later, felt the touch of his fingertips on her bare right breast. He circled it, slowly and gently, before looping over to circle her left breast and ending back in the valley between them to complete the figure eight. He reversed his movements and retraced the course as he had before, this time a tiny bit closer to the nipple. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he repeated this treatment several more times until his fingertips were just brushing against the edges of her little buds.

Her body strained upwards yet again as much as it could against her tight restraints, desperate for his fingers to touch her aching nipples next. But to her utter dismay, he lifted his fingertips away and traced them down her bare tummy, dipping one of them lightly into her belly button before running them once more over the front of her drenched panties, down one leg and up the other, and then back over the same course to begin circling her breasts again. By the time he was nearing her nipples once more, she was moaning.

“Do you want me to touch these pretty little nipples of yours, Aurora?” he asked in his husky tone, which indicated that he, too, was struggling to control his arousal.

By now, the part of her that should have resisted asking for something so shameful had been utterly silenced by the intense need for her nipples to be stroked the way her breasts had been, and her only reply was a throaty “Yes…”

Apparently satisfied by her response, when his lazily circling fingers reached close to her nipples this time, they didn’t pull away. The figure eights drew tighter, brushing the fingertips over her areolas one after the other before reaching the sides of her buds themselves, and then in one final loop, they returned to tease the very tips. He lifted his hand again, and she slumped to the table in what she subconsciously hoped he’d recognize as a pout.

“You want me to do more than just touch these hard nipples, don’t you? I think you need me to show you who they belong to now.”

When Aurora said nothing, he resumed his teasing, starting over at the base of her breasts. When he got to her nipples this time, he brushed over them as he had before, then spoke up again.

“Let’s try a second time, Aurora. You need me to show you who these pretty little nipples belong to now, don’t you?”

She didn’t hesitate for even an instant this time, desperate both for a firmer touch and to avoid another session of the teasing torment she had just endured.

“Yes… please…”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he rested the thumb and forefinger of each hand on one of her throbbingly stiff buds.

“I’m going to pinch your nipples now, Aurora. It’s going to hurt, because you need it to hurt.”

That statement didn’t seem to require a reply, and he clearly didn’t expect one, because only a few seconds later he pinched both of her nipples at once.

Very, very hard.

She had thought the pinches through her shirt had hurt, but now she discovered what a real pinch felt like, and she screamed. When her cry ended and she realized he was still maintaining a tight hold on her helpless buds, she screamed again.

It was only at the end of that long, loud cry that he released them. In that moment, a humiliating realization struck her. The pain from her nipples hadn’t merely lit up every receptor of her brain, it had also set her entire body on fire. Her heart raced faster than it had since the beginning of her ordeal, and it felt like her blood was molten in her veins, igniting her very core.

By the time the pain had receded from its peak intensity and become a steady ache in her nipples—which seemed to be a mix of residual discomfort and ongoing need for his touch—Aurora found herself wondering what he had in store for her next. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Lowering his head and taking her left nipple in his mouth, he began to suck on it gently, teasingly, before pulling it in further between his teeth and nibbling on it. Without needing him to say anything, she knew what was coming, and sure enough, a few seconds later he bit down hard enough to draw another impassioned cry from her lips. When he kept the nipple in his mouth and began to soothe it with his tongue, Aurora’s anguished cries morphed into helpless moans.

He took his time, tonguing her nipple from every direction and sucking it thoroughly. Just when she’d been lulled into a near daze of arousal, he bit down again, harder, and this time she truly screamed. Yet despite the pain, her pussy clenched once more.

After that punishing bite, he lifted his head and moved to her right nipple, repeating the entire process in the same disturbingly, yet somehow sexily meticulous way he had done everything else so far. Her scream from the final bite was just as loud as before, and knowing it was coming this time only increased the intense jolt of arousal that the pain evoked within her.

When he finally pulled his mouth free from her nipple, she guessed where he was headed next, and her pussy clenched with anticipation of his upcoming touch.

But to her surprise, he made no move to deprive her of her panties.

Instead, several seconds passed before he spoke again.

“I have a lot more in store for these sensitive nipples of yours, Aurora. But I think it’s time I take a look at what’s created this enormous wet spot on your panties.”

A few seconds passed, and then she felt the same cold metal on her skin that she had felt earlier. He didn’t slice away her panties right away, however. First, he began to run just the sharp tip of the blade over the bare skin of her lower tummy, tracing the line made by the waistband of her panties. He wasn’t pressing hard enough for the knife to cut, or even to scratch. In fact, if he hadn’t sliced her shirt open with what was surely the same blade earlier, she wouldn’t have even known for certain that it was a knife at all. But she did know now, and that knowledge was shockingly arousing.

Why the fuck are you getting off to the thought of having your panties cut off with a knife?

She had no answer to the question her mind posed, but that in no way lessened her growing desire for him to hurry up and cut off her panties—or just tear them off, for that matter—and make her come for him as hard as she knew she would the second he touched her clit.

Yet again, seeming to read her mind, he said, “These will be coming off soon, Aurora, but not until I’m sure you’re ready.”

As he spoke, he continued to trace the point of the knife around the edges of her panties. Having finished with the waistband, he had now moved to her thighs and was tracing along the crotch of her panties so that the blade was drawn almost onto the outer lips of her pussy.

“These are soaked clean through,” he said, and before she had a chance to respond, he slid the knife point underneath the crotch of her panties and lifted them away from her pussy for a moment before allowing them to snap back into place with a wet splat that left her blushing even more deeply than she had been already.

“There’s no mistaking that sound, is there, Aurora? This pussy of yours is sopping wet, and I haven’t even bared you fully yet.”

He resumed lazily tracing the blade around her panties, then used the tip to pull the gusset even further away from her pussy. He held it away for longer this time, as if inspecting her, and then just when the tension was almost unbearable she felt him lean down and blow a single puff of air onto her quivering lips. Her body tensed, and for a split second she wondered if she would come from just that light stimulation.

She got close, but not quite over the edge, before he spoke again.

“Are you ready for me to cut off these panties?”

She knew full well that if she said no or said nothing, he would merely tease her until, compelled by unbearable need, she not only acquiesced but probably begged for him to bare her. But that wasn’t what drove her to respond with a breathy “Yes!”

She said yes because she meant it.

Aurora needed her panties off, and she needed them off now. Because the sooner they were off, the sooner she would be allowed to come for him. She knew instinctively that it would be a while yet. A long, agonizingly drawn-out while as he teased her mercilessly, but nonetheless, being fully bare for him would at least be a start. An indication that things were moving forward and that perhaps she would be allowed to come before the frustration killed her.

Her hopes were utterly dashed, however, when he let the soaked gusset of her panties slap down against her pussy once again and said, “The truth is, you’ve been ready for a while, Aurora. But you kept me waiting for a year, so you’re going to have to wait a little longer.”

There it was. She had broken her agreement, and now she was being punished for it.

Maybe if she’d known the kind of effect Dante would have on her, she wouldn’t have run…

Before she could fully process her combination of desperate need and intense disappointment at being denied release, she felt the knife tip glide up her tummy and circle her still achingly stiff right nipple. After drawing it all the way up to the hollow of her neck, he slid it back down her left breast, circled her left nipple, and drew it all the way down her tummy again to trace the waistband of her panties. Without him having to say anything, she knew he was about to repeat the process.

When he retraced his course with the blade this time, however, there was one big difference. Upon reaching her nipples, he pressed the tip down on the very center of each stiff bud. Not hard enough to break the skin, or even to hurt nearly as much as his teeth had, but enough to be terrifying… and terrifyingly arousing. That she hadn’t expected.

He didn’t give her much time to ponder her feelings on the situation, because now he was dragging the sharp tip down over her bare body once more, pressing a little harder this time, though still not nearly hard enough to break the skin. Once again, the blade slid beneath the waistband of her panties, but this time he flipped it over so the sharp edge pointed upwards and began to lift the material away from her skin on the left side.

“I think it’s long past time to bare this little pussy of yours.”

Then in one quick motion, he sliced through the thin material, leaving the left side of the garment resting against her thigh while only the right side remained attached. Holding the cut side of the panties in place with his free hand, he slid the blade underneath the right side and repeated the slicing motion. The front of her panties were now held in place only by gravity and the sticky mess of her arousal, which was just barely concealed by the remaining fabric. Going slowly now, he slid the side of the blade under the material just over her slit, and with a flick of his wrist the tip of the knife flew upwards, tossing aside the last remnants covering her, and with them the last of her modesty.

She was bare now. Fully bare and completely on display.

He paused before speaking, presumably admiring the view he had just revealed.

“You’re even wetter than I’d expected, Aurora. You really are a naughty girl.”

She blushed at his words. Or rather, her blush deepened further—she had not stopped blushing since the moment she awakened.

Would he put the knife away now and touch her pussy with his fingers or his tongue… or his cock?

Not yet apparently. Because a second later, she felt the sharp tip tracing down one of her exposed outer lips and up the other. A teasing circle around her clit followed, then an even more intimate journey up and down her inner lips, before she felt the blade press down on her clit.

As with her nipples, it was hard enough to hurt but not to cut. But as sensitive as her nipples were, this little button was far, far more sensitive, and she drew in a gasp of both pain and desperate arousal as—with incredible precision—he used the very tip of the blade to pull back the hood of her clit before pressing that same tip down on her now unprotected nub. What had been a quick intake of gasping breath became a rapid series of shallow breaths as her heart rate spiked higher than she could ever remember in her life—and she had run track in high school.

It wasn’t that she feared he was going to cut her. For some reason she couldn’t explain, she knew in a deep, instinctive way that she would not be harmed today. No, her heart was pounding for another reason. If he could bring her this close to what she knew would be a painfully shattering orgasm with something as terrifying as a knife, how hard would she come when he used his fingers, or his tongue, or his cock?

He kept the knife there, with the pressure just enough to maintain an edge of pain without the discomfort being great enough to dampen her arousal. Then, using the flat side of the blade to hold the hood of her clit back, he reached down with his free hand and rubbed his thumb roughly over the fully exposed bundle of nerves.

It didn’t take long, barely a second, before she was on the edge and close to tumbling over into what would surely be a brutal climax. He pulled his thumb back just in time and left her there, squirming and quivering on the table.

Though she wasn’t worried about him cutting her, the instinctive fear of the blade still hovering so near her most sensitive body part was the only thing that kept her from thrashing her body upwards in hopes of forcing her clit against his retreating thumb and driving herself over the brink. She doubted the straps alone would have held her in place.

A few moments passed, and when her squirming finally ceased, he returned his thumb to restart her torment. He brought her close again, and withdrew once again, and once more the fear of the knife barely held her in place. He brought her close a third time, and at this point any inhibitions and shame were cast aside and she began to beg desperately for the orgasm she had continuously been denied.

This time he didn’t pull his thumb back completely, instead maintaining a gentle pressure that was just enough to keep her on the edge, letting her move neither over that edge to orgasm nor away from it. Her entire body ached with need. Her nipples and clit were impossibly stiff. She could feel her wetness slicking down her thighs and pooling on the table beneath her bare bottom.

She had never been so ashamed or so aroused in her whole life. In fact, she hadn’t known it was possible to be this ashamed or aroused.

Seconds passed—or minutes, she could no longer tell in the desperate haze of need that now clouded her mind—but still he continued. Finally, just as she felt she could bear no more and tears formed in her eyes, a more terrifying thought hit her.

It didn’t matter what she could or could not bear. It wasn’t up to her in any way. He would keep her here as long as he wanted to, poised on the edge of both climax and sanity. He could break her completely if he wanted, and all she could do was lie there and take it.

That realization turned her tears into sobs of defeat and humiliation. But the tears that soaked her cheeks were nothing in comparison to the flood from her pussy that was unleashed as she began to accept the reality of her body’s surrender. She had never thought it was possible to be this wet. As if to confirm for her the reality of her situation, her captor ran a single finger through her sopping channel and held it to her lips. Reacting on what seemed like instinct, she sucked the tip of his finger inside, almost as if knowing that he would not allow her to come until her shame was complete.

And her shame would not be complete until she could taste it on her tongue.

“Are you ready to come for me, little slut?”

She wanted more than anything in the world to respond with a cry of “Yes!” or even “Yes, sir!” or “Yes, master!” but somehow she couldn’t.

All she could do was sob on the table, utterly broken.

Then she felt his thumb on her clit once more, and the truth struck her like a hammer blow. She’d just given him her answer. He hadn’t wanted words.

It was those broken, desperate sobs of helpless surrender for which he’d been waiting.

And now at last she knew instinctively he was going to make her come. But while on one level that thought provided her relief, on another in brought only terrifying anticipation. If he’d broken her that thoroughly with merely a single teasing fingertip, how hard would she break before he was finished making her come for him?

Because she knew without the slightest doubt that there wouldn’t be one climax, or two, or three. She had no idea how many there would be, and in fact she doubted he knew either. She just knew that as broken as she felt now, she would be an utter and complete wreck by the time he was finished with her.

Then she felt the flat of the blade pull the hood of her clit back even further and his thumb pushed down on her nub hard and fast, rubbing with painful pressure against the already over stimulated nerves. It took barely a second for her climax to begin. And her scream began with it.

She didn’t know how long the orgasm lasted—she may even have blacked out. But by the time it ended, her sweat-soaked body lay slumped against the table and she felt more spent than she ever had in her life. He let her rest for only a moment, and then she felt the knife lift away.

Her hope that it was over was dashed almost instantly when his thumb returned to fulfill the role of the knife, holding back the hood of her clit. She knew what was coming before she felt the blade’s tip on her helplessly exposed clit, but it came as a desperate shock nonetheless. Her body jolted, but with seemingly supernatural precision he moved the sharp steel with her, keeping her from accidentally cutting herself while maintaining contact between the tip and her clit.

When her helpless instinctive motions slowed, he began to circle her little button as before, now alternating between enough pressure to be painful and sometimes pulling back so that the steel teased her as if it were a feather.

Nothing he’d done before compared to this.

The pressure was not enough to bring her to climax. In fact, it was so light it probably never would be, but it was enough to keep her even closer to the edge than his thumb had before. She knew he could keep her here on the brink of utter shameful desperation for as long as he wanted.

Aurora began to beg and plead again, this time no longer in coherent words but in babbled syllables indicating that her mind was now as completely defeated as her body. Every other thought was gone, and only the need to come remained.

But still the torment continued. Seconds passed as she lay there, bound and in helpless anguish, before at last his voice cut through her agony enough to capture her attention.

“I’m going to make you come again now, Aurora. It’s going to be much harder than the first time, and it’s going to hurt.”

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