Too Much...?
THIS CHAPTER CW:
Dynamics - (Femdom, Kneeling)
Kinks - (Impact play - Boot/Stepping, Sensory Play, Verbal Teasing, Hair Pulling, Power Exchange, Praise Play) SSC (Safe-Sane-Consenting ADULTS)
Safety - (Active check-ins and established safe words)
Setting - (Organized Crime themes and blockchain-based "Omertà mentioned briefly)
Content Warning: This story is intended for mature audiences (18+). It contains themes of organized crime, violence, and explicit sexual content. Please read responsibly and prioritize your mental well-being.
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Vincent was the 'tough guy', the one who handled things others couldn't. In 2026, the dynamics of the Cosa Nostra (The Mafia) had shifted - evolved. The "Family" was now a distributed autonomous organisation (DAO), and the code of Omertà was written into the blockchain — immutable, unbreakable, and lethal if breached. Men like Vincent managed the physical "beat-em-to-a-pulp" tasks when digital intimidation failed. In a world of drones and high-tech surveillance states, sometimes you still needed a man who could walk through a door and look someone in the eye so fiercely their blood ran cold even before they spoke. Vincent was that man.
Huge, domineering, and intimidating – He was Italian-American branded through blood, a man raised in a house of seven brothers where the weak were stepped on and forgotten about. At his full height, he stood at 6 '5", and his family describes him as "Built like a brick shit house," Which is an affectionate way of saying he's broad-shouldered, with massive arms of tattoos and muscle, and a presence that filled a room even without his height. His skin carried a deep tan, showing his bloodline from the Amalfi Coast. He looked every bit the high-ranking soldier with that dark, medium hair I'd spent months learning to style into a 'professional mess.' To the world, he was effortless; to me, he was a man who worked hard to look like he didn't care. He had other things to worry about than his appearance. As long as he was wearing his gold chain around his throat, He considered himself to be well-dressed.
He didn't take orders or answer to anyone. At least...that's what everyone outside of his inner circle thought. His relationship with you was different. Vastly different....The collar around his neck spoke volumes to that difference, as he kneeled before me. "Baby...please, can I get up?" He asked, his normally domineering voice quiet and soft. A stark contrast to a man who could snap a structural beam with his bare hands if he tried, asking for permission to stand. "Not yet~" I sing to him wickedly...I let the words drift between us, a thin wire of a command. " You don't want to play anymore...?" I asked with a smirk, but my eyes were on his pulse; I genuinely wanted to see where his limit was today. We've been in a relationship for a little over 4 years now, our partnership being more than pure devotion- Its work. Vinny and I work—really work—to keep trust and safety at the heart of everything, both inside and outside the bedroom. Yet, even like this, quivering on his knees for me, he's a dormant volcano – powerful, impressive.
He let out a frustrated sigh as I refused his request, his eyes looking up to me with both annoyance and adoration. He knew I was purposefully teasing him, completely aware of the effect I had on him and still pushing.... It absolutely turned him on further. I watch as his light blue eyes darken with desire, and I chuckle to myself as I can practically hear the thoughts flashing through his mind. Vincent shook his head, as if reminding himself to pay attention, I assume. He took a deep breath, trying to keep what little self-control he had as he responded. "Of course I want to play...but can I at least sit?" I shook my head, "I thought you liked being on your knees for me?" I smile down at him and pull on his collar slightly, tugging his neck toward me. A soft gasp escaped him at the sudden movement, his head snapping upward, his blue eyes locked onto mine with a mix of frustration and desperation. "I—" Vincent rumbled, low and heavy– one I felt more in my bones than heard while gripping his thighs. "...You're lucky you're cute." He muttered, his voice strained with restraint. "You know exactly what this does to me."
"No, you're cute~ my darling." I sing to him..."Now, tell me what exactly this 'does' to you?" I asked with a wicked tilt to my voice—teasing him, yes, but part of me actually wanted to see how long he'd last. With a knowing smile, I tenderly place my black boot on his crotch, next to the straining hardness in his jeans. Vincent groans, his expression pained as I step on him. He couldn't help but react, his body responding to the teasing touches and words like clockwork. He looked up at me through half-lidded eyes, his voice rough with need as I increased the pressure. "Fuck- l-" Vincent reached up, gripping my ankle, his thumb tracing soft circles on my skin. "God, you are infuriating sometimes."I step down harder in response, "Yeah, yeah- You love it." I giggle, placing one hand on my hip and the other affectionately through his hair before pulling it with a quick tug. He let out a sharp gasp, his head going back as I pulled his hair, a strangled whimper escaping him. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking quick, shaky breaths to compose himself. He was completely at my mercy—and we both relished it. "Damn you." He growled out through gritted teeth, his grip on your ankle tightening. "You're going to be the death of me."
"Should I stop then?" I lift my foot immediately and release his hair. Taking a slow step backwards, looking him over as I do so. His eyes shot open as I suddenly pulled away, a sharp pang of regret washing over him. "No!" He said quickly, reaching up to grab my wrist before I got too far away. "No, don't—don't stop." The desperation in his voice was obvious, his breathing ragged as his eyes searched my face. His eyes, wide and pleading, betrayed just how desperately he needed my touch—every ounce of bravado stripped away. "Please...don't stop." He repeated, softer this time, while moving my hand back onto his hair and manually closing my fingers around his strands before pulling my arm up - "Mmmh– " a gentle moan escaping him pathetically as his eyes fluttered shut. The vulnerability in his expression was as clear as day as he whispered, "Please..." He whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "I'm yours. Do what you want."
"Such a good boy." I kiss his forehead with admiration before tugging his hair back again and kissing the pulse point on his neck. "Stay on your knees." I breathe into his skin, "Do you want me to step on you?" Kissing him between each word. Vincent shuddered violently at the feeling of my tongue against his throat, his entire body tensing. The praise—"good boy"—sent a jolt of heat straight through him, as his breath got caught in his throat. He whined softly, squirming on his knees, his fingers curling into fists on his thighs as he struggled to stay still. "Y-yes," he gasped out, his voice wrecked already, "God, yes—please, I need—" His sentence broke off into a strangled groan as I kissed his neck again. "Open your legs wider." I tap his inner thigh for emphasis, "Make sure you're quiet though..." I remind him, "Wouldn't want the guys to hear you...." I sing to his ear before biting it.
Vince obeyed instantly, shifting his knees apart with a sharp inhale, his fingers digging into his thighs deeper to anchor himself. His breath was already uneven, ragged—every brush of my lips, every bite and kiss sending shocks of pleasure through him. He bit down on his bottom lip hard at the mention of his gang nearby, his entire body tensing as he fought to stay silent. The idea of them hearing—knowing—what I'm doing to him, what he's letting me do to him, made his stomach twist with humiliation and arousal."F-fuck," he choked out in a whisper, his voice strained, "You—ah—you're cruel." But he didn't stop me. He was too invested in our play. I smile before telling him seriously, "Remember, our door is locked. And you can use our safe-word at any point, and I will stop immediately. Do you understand?" I lean back, locking eyes with him to remind him that we're in sanctuary- our bedroom, and his 'No' would be final. Vincent nodded fervently, his expression softening fractionally at the reminder of safety. I placed a gentle hand onto his shoulder, a steady weight to ground us both. I leaned in, my voice dropping to a soft murmur against his ear, "Vince—you're only here as long as you want to be; you're in control of where we go from here, yes?"
"I understand," he said, his voice quieter, but still thick with desire. "I know, and I'll use the safe word if I need to." He took a deep breath, looking at me with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. "I trust you. I'm all yours, baby. Do what you want with me..." Despite the humiliation of being on his knees, judging by the tent in his pants, he was completely turned on by this situation. "Please-," he gasped out, his voice thick with desire. His gaze filled with trust and submission. He knew I would take care of him completely. "Stop is 'Red'. I—I trust you." Before giving me his classic cocky smile, "Now, stop fuckin' around– Step on me harder."
I grin widely at that. "Good boy," I respond, my voice like velvet, as I slowly grind my boot down his length before changing direction. Like he couldn't help himself, Vincent opens his legs wider – back arching slightly, leaning into it. His eyes fluttered shut, his breathing ragged, every nerve in his body on fire. He wanted—no, he needed more, to feel more, even if it was only through the friction of my boot over his zipper. I lean onto him more, continuing to grind my shoe into him, and he lets out a strangled moan, his chest heaving with the effort to stay still. He bit his lip, his knuckles white as he gripped his thigh, trying to hold back the desperate sounds that threatened to escape him loudly. Fuck, I love when he looks like this- "Please...please," he gasped out, his voice broken, pleading. "Can I touch you?" His hands twitch with want, maybe to pull me down onto him or control my ankle? I laugh at the thought. Sweat is forming on his brow, and he's shaking below me. I bend down so I'm even with his ear -"If you can finish in your jeans. On your knees, with nothing but my filthy boots-"I'll let you touch me." I chuckle wickedly, whispering, "Hell, I'll make a big moaning show that the guys can hear as you pound into me." "Sound good?" I ask with amusement.
Vincent practically cried in response to the words, his body trembling with arousal as he tried to process them. He was teetering on the edge as it was, his body on fire from my touch (or lack thereof)—hell, even just my presence. A shiver ran through him at the thought of my plan, the mix of humiliation and anticipation sending a rush of heat through his veins. My proposal was wicked, and he was utterly helpless to resist. He knows I love making deals and is probably too turned on to think straight. He agreed immediately. Nodding quickly as he gasped out desperately, "Yes–" his eyes dark and cheeks flushed, "Yes, Please- I'll do anything- V, I'll do-"
Before he can finish, I move my foot right next to his length and step down. Increasing the pressure before suddenly and without warning digging the heel of my boot onto his raging cock. I twist my foot, giving him torturous pleasure. Vinny's entire body jerked, an obscene sound ripping from his throat. "G—God," he gasped out, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. He couldn't think, he couldn't do anything except feel, the sensations overwhelming him.
I can tell he wanted to touch me so badly, needed to feel more, but all he could do was kneel there, shaking, his eyes locked onto mine shamelessly. "Please-...baby-..." He whimpered. "Please." He didn't know what he was even asking for anymore. "Just—please..." he pleaded. "God..." Gone was the unbreakable enforcer; in his place, a man lay bare and trembling for me alone. "Please don't stop—" he breathed out, his voice trembling and strained. "Please, baby. Please..." He was begging now, begging with every ounce of his being. "I—I'll do anything. I promise. Anything. Just—don't stop. Please, please, please don't stop. I—I'll--" He gasped as I dug my foot in more, his breath catching in his throat. "—I'll do anything for you," He groaned, the words escaping him in a hoarse, urgent tone. "Anything. Anything..." The need and vulnerability in his voice were palpable. "I need you....so much. Fuck!" His eyes were fixed on mine, his gaze pleading and aroused, his body trembling with the need for your touch. "I—I need you..." He repeated, his voice cracking with emotion. "I need you so badly...I—I need you so much...more than anything....more than air...more than water....more than...life..." *He was completely undone, his heart laid bare as he looked up at me with a raw, exposed hunger that made my chest tight—a man of his stature shouldn't have been able to look that small. 'Oh.'
I also dropped to my knees, sitting in front of him and reaching for his face. "Hey- hey baby–" I cradle his head in my hands while cooing and kissing him. I gently stroke his face, saying, "You got me darlin', everything's ok..." As I try to keep my concerns in check. I realise I might have pushed too hard. He takes deep, shuddering breaths, leaning into my touch, his eyes closing to calm himself. He was trembling, overwhelmed by the emotions and sensations just moments ago. I keep soothing him with my words and touches, noticing his panic slowly fade, and his body loosen. "I—I'm okay," he murmured, voice hoarse and shaky. His eyes open slowly, looking up at me with a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. "I just...I guess I got a bit overwhelmed. It's...it's okay." He takes another deep breath, trying to regain composure, then shifts from vulnerability to a familiar teasing smirk. "But...I have to say, you really know how to put me in my place." He chuckled softly, eyes still on yours, a hint of playfulness in them. "I think I'll have bruises on my knees for a week."
I do another once over - making sure he's actually okay before rolling my eyes and kissing his nose peckish. "The ones on your knees aren't gonna hurt as much as the bruises you're gonna have on your ass." I giggle and think about the handprints on his tush that have probably formed already from earlier. His smirk faltered for just a second as I called him out, his cheeks flushing a deep red at your words. He tried to play it off with a scoff, but an embarrassed shiver ran through him. "Tch—like I'd let anyone else mark me up like this," he mutters, though there was no real bite to his tone. If anything, he sounds almost...proud. I kiss his forehead at that. Then, as if remembering the state he was in—still on his knees, hair mussed from my nails, lips swollen—he clears his throat and complains "...You gonna help me up or what?" though the way his fingers linger on my waist told me he wasn't in any real hurry to move.
"Let's get a little less intense." I tell him sweetly, "If you wanna keep going, I'll give you head until you cry– oooor we could hook up later and cuddle a bit for now? Whichever you're up for, baby." I kiss him before pulling his arms up, making him stand as he lets out a shaky exhale. He thinks for a second, his body still humming with lingering arousal, taking a moment to consider my offer as his expression softens. "Mm...cuddles," he murmured after a beat, his voice still rough but laced with affection. "I wanna just...hold you. For now." He shoots me a smarmy grin. "...But later? Definitely cashin' that head offer." With that, he finally shifted to stand to his full height—wincing infinitesimally at the ache in his knees—before pulling me into his arms, tucking my head under his chin with a content sigh. "Love you," he mumbles against my hair.
I chuckle and nuzzle into him, "Ok, baby, I'm all yours - love you." I smile. Going on my tippy toes to peck his chin and slowly lead him toward the bed. He follows willingly, before turning on his heels, allowing himself to be led gently backwards till the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed with a soft thunk. He sits down with a sigh, the mattress groaning softly under his weight, before reaching out to pull me onto his lap. He wraps his arms around my waist and tucks me against him, burying his face in the curve of my shoulder and taking a deep breath, inhaling. After a moment, he lets out a soft hum, his voice muffled against my skin as he speaks. "You smell good, baby." I hum and kiss the top of his head. "I probably smell like you." I say, drawing circles on his shoulders. "Good." He grumbles, pressing his face further into the crook of my neck. He loved it when I smelled like him; it made him feel...possessive. He lets out a low hum as my slender fingers trace circles on his broad shoulders, his body relaxing under the touch like a dog. He also loves how small I am compared to him, how easily he could wrap himself around me and envelope me completely. He murmurs against my skin, his voice low and calm, "You're so tiny..."
In his defence, he's right. Considering I'm 4"11'--, but I'm smaller than the average bear for everyone, not just this behemoth next to me. "...I think you're also just freakishly large, so..." I laugh out loud. The size difference between us is staggering and... super hot. I hug him tighter. I like it when we cuddle, and he gets all smushy with me. Vinny chuckles at the comment, his chest rumbling against mine as he pulls me in even closer. His grip on me is tightening more, possessive but gentle—the way he always holds me when cuddling. "Yeah, well...means I can do this–" he cackles before suddenly flipping both of us, in one smooth motion, pinning me underneath him with a grin. I squeak at the sudden position change. His body cages me in as he hovers just inches above my face. His usual tough-guy smirk softened into something tender as he brushed a strand of hair from your eyes. "And it means no one else gets to see you like this." He dipped his head down to nuzzle into my neck again, inhaling deeply like he was memorizing the moment. After a beat, his voice came out muffled against my skin—quiet and embarrassingly sincere. "You're my favorite thing..." We both freeze, realizing how sappy that sounded. He quickly clears his throat and buries his face deeper into my shoulder to hide the redness creeping up his neck and ears. "...Shut up." After another moment, I try to hold my laughter and fail, before cracking up wildly and smiling like a maniac. I love how red he gets when he's embarrassed. "You should write sonnets!" I tell him with shaky breaths. He huffs at my reaction, his chest and ears heating up further at my laughter. I can see he's trying to scowl– really trying, and it makes me guffaw as I notice the way his lips twitch in reluctant amusement. "Shut up!" He repeats, his usual grumpy facade crumbling by a hint of fondness. He buries his face in the crook of my neck further, trying to hide his smile. Curled against his broad chest, I felt the world shrink until it was just the two of us—safe, warm, and utterly content.
"Make me," I challenged with a broad smile and a cocked brow. He lifted his head at that, eyes narrowing as he took in the defiant little grin on my face. The change in him was immediate, like a switch being thrown. Competition flared bright in his expression, hot and dangerous and alive. "You're asking for it, you know that?" he purred, his voice dropping lower, his smirk edged with want. He shifted his weight, pressing in closer until I could feel the full heat and heft of him against me, pinning me deeper into the mattress. "You sure you want to play that game, babygirl?" "You think you could keep up, big boy?" I shot back, voice gone silk-slick and teasing. I loved the feeling of his weight over me, and the shift in control rolling between us felt like exactly what he needed after everything else. His breath caught as he felt it too—that turn in the atmosphere, that silent permission. I was letting him take the lead now, and the realization lit up something possessive and pleased in his eyes. He bent down until his lips hovered at my ear, his voice rough and low when he spoke. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, the endearment thick with promise, "I could keep up with you all day and night." Then, because restraint had never been his strong suit, he nipped lightly at my earlobe before drawing back just enough to meet my eyes again. His grin was all trouble. "But since you're feeling so generous... why don't we test that theory?"
A knock at the door cracked through the room like a gunshot, and both our heads snapped toward it at once, the soft haze around us breaking instantly. "We've got a problem, boss." A second round of sharp knocks followed, urgent enough to drag us the rest of the way out of our private little world.
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HI!!!!! IM SO EXCITED TO SHARE MY FIRST EVER STORY EVER! Ive always loved writing but Ive been too scared to create my own characters or actually publish anything - plz feel free to hmu with any grammar advice and what have you! Please be kind tho ! OH! And if there's any other CW's I should add - please hmu!! Thank yall for reading!
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
The depictions of criminal activity and power dynamics in this story are for entertainment purposes only and do not reflect the author's real-world views.
