Page 1 of Dominated By the Mob Boss

Nobody imagined they would end up being the thirty-five year old virgin, staring down forty without any hope of a sex life let alone a romantic one. I wasn’t some rural beauty who made her way to the big city, so it wasn’t like I could have my Hallmark movie moment and go back to get my brains boinked out by some stud who either overlooked me before or who I overlooked for his studly simplicity. Both my parents were happily married, so I wasn’t about to meet anybody at a wedding because everyone in my life already had that special somebody from my siblings to my friends to every coworker I met, and since I wasn’t a homewrecker, there wasn’t anybody in my day to day life that could potentially romance me.

I had reached the age where my baristas were too young, and if it weren’t creepy to flirt with waitstaff before, the risk of them being more than a decade younger soured the whole affair for me, but it wasn’t as if I had given up before getting here. No, I put myself out there. I joined a gym, switched to a new gym, changed my routine to a new coffee shop, went for walks in parks, joined a hiking group, joined a yoga class in the park on Saturday mornings. The number of grandmotherly figures in my life jumped, and the number of successful sixty year marriages which I heard about on a weekly basis skyrocketed.

I had tried everything short of going to Amsterdam and finding some guy in the red light district to wreck me, and that definitely didn’t feel right to me, which left me standing in front of a BDSM club that looked like it should’ve been in Las Vegas with the blinding lights and a fountain because — and I quote maybe — the owner just might happen to have mob connections. Not the best place to be as a corporate lawyer. Then again, not the worst.

It took me an hour and some pregaming at a bar across the street to go up to the door despite having a card and thecodeword to get me inside. The bouncer eyed me, smirking as I tripped over the phrase, “Pearl necklace,” which sounded innocent, but the dirty innuendo hiding inside had my stomach turning and sending me straight to the bar to get a trio of shots.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart,” a deep voice drawled, sending shivers down my spine. He caught my third shot, sliding it back to the bartender. “No more for this one, David.”

As the bartender swept the shot away, I reached out, pouting, “No! You have no right. I paid for that.”

“You haven’t paid yet, and he’ll take it off your tab,” the man assured me, standing right beside my seat. His arm wrapped around me, caging me in without directly touching me. “Now, sweetheart, what brings you to Il Domino?”

His heat leaked into me. He towered, a dark beard on his face and tan olive skin with a heavy brow over chocolate eyes that sparkled as he observed me. Dressed in a black suit, he certainly fit the bill for a dominator or whatever they called male dominatrixes. He was big. Tall with broad shoulders and thick thighs, he filled out a suit with hands big enough to smack across my whole ass as he bent me over his lap, and — oh, fuck, might as well.

“You want to fuck me?”

He chuckled. “Are you offering?”

“You’re a dominator, right?”

“Dom, but you can call me Sir or Master,” the man told me.

Biting my lip, I shifted to face him. “Do you want to fuck me, sir?”

“Hm, I’m not sure you’re ready,” he commented dryly.

Scowling, I turned back toward the bar. “I’m thirty-five. I think I’m more than ready.”

“Sweetheart, if I had my way with you, you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here. You’d end up cum-dumb. My sweet little slave who’d I’d keep on your knees to warm my cock,” he told me, whispering hot in my ear. “And if I enjoy you enough, I’ll break you. Turn you into my perfect wife.”

I snorted, “Stepford much?”

“Oh, baby, I’d dominate you so well that you’ll beg for it,” he purred.

Every other man who talked to me like this ended up kicked to the curb before they could ever make it beyond the first date, and there was no way I would ever let a guy like this into my apartment, let alone my bedroom, but I was tired of waiting. I wanted to get fucked. Wanted to be made to scream and not have the stress of worrying about how I needed to give back because it was his job, and his pleasure, to take and to demand what he wanted from me, so instead of running like I normally would or throwing up my walls, I spun back around, eyeing him up and down.

“Well, sir, show me what you’ve got.”

***

“Ah!” I cried out.

His hand came down across my bare ass. Each sharp slap had me wriggling with a desperation that I had never imagined myself capable of feeling. Each sharp smack resounded. The sound echoed, and my mouth grew somehow wet and dry all at the same time.

Rubbing across the sore area, he clucked his tongue. “That’s another two for forgetting to count.”

“No,” I sobbed, trying to squirm and failing in his iron hold. His hand came down again. “Fifteen! Thank you, Sir!”

Every strike found its mark. The vibrator in my pussy buzzed, squelching and slick. Each time he spanked me, Iinvoluntarily clenched, and the vibrations grew more intense. Between spanks, he slid two fingers across my clit, and the vibrators on the end of his fingers wiggled against me. They were both textured, bumpy and with almost bristle-like structures. Moaning like a whore, I humped his leg, rocking back to chase the sensation. Then his hand came down, and I wailed as he struck right over my stuffed cunt.

“Sixteen! Thank you, Sir!”

Over and over, he brought his hand down, and by the end, I sobbed as he flipped me over, shifting the ropes across my body, pulling up my breasts from beneath as he hooked my legs over my head, putting my reddened cheeks and my stuffed pussy on full display as my arms remained caught behind my back. His fingers slipped around the silicone.

“Hm, still a bit tight, sweetheart, but you’re certainly wet enough,” he told me as he worked a finger inside, the vibrators circling around my entrance. “You can take more for me, can’t you, baby?”

Moaning pitifully, I didn’t have the mind to answer, and his laughter fanned the flames confusingly burning inside me.

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