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If there were any place on earth Guido Mista enjoyed picking up a pretty gal or two, it would have to be at one of Napoli’s small-time night clubs.
Sitting in one of the few booths exclusively booked for high ranking Passione members, Mista allowed his dark gaze to flit over the selection of pretty ladies visiting the club tonight. Between tourists visiting from across the pond looking for a good time and local girls flirting and dancing with the more handsome men of the crowd, the gunman couldn’t help but allow his eyes to linger on one particular table that had held his attention from the moment he’d walked in the door. Honestly, there wasn’t much noteworthy that had caught Mista’s attention; just two girls sitting together, tourists, laughing and joking and just having a good time. He could tell that they were part of a larger group, occasionally calling something out to the rest of their group whenever one or another went to get some more drinks from the bar. All in all, that usually wouldn’t be enough to interest the dark-haired gunman, and he’d have usually given them a passing glance before beelining it towards one of the gorgeous, almost model-esque girls on the dance floor.
No, what had caught Mista’s attention when he walked in was the fact that you had already been staring at him. He’d seen your pretty (E/C) eyes flit over his body, nearly preening and puffing up at the appreciative way your gaze lingered on his exposed midriff, his usual cashmere crop-top sweater having been exchanged for something lighter and sheerer. Mista had seen the way you’d wet your lips, whispering something to your friend, your eyes wide and doe-like - before you realised he was staring right back at you, turning your gaze away from him with a blush warming your features. No lie, the fact you’d been interested in Mista from the first glance had excited and enticed him. He’d been going over how to approach you in his mind the past half an hour, your and his eyes meeting every so often. My, but you were so very pretty, Mista thought to himself, already imagining the kind of girl you’d be if he were to take you outside and press you up against the wall. You were interested, he noted, unaware of the increasing tension lining your shoulders or the nervous quaver of your voice when speaking to your friend. Mista admired the short black dress you were wearing, enticing him into standing from his seat and finally making his way towards you.
“Well, well, I didn’t think I’d ever see two gorgeous ladies in a dinky little place like this,” His voice is practically a purr as he speaks, deep and rumbly, and Mista doesn’t miss the way you shivered lightly at the tone. The sight makes heat curl in the pit of the gunman’s stomach, and despite the scowl on your friend’s face, he takes one of the nearby chairs and sits by your table, ignoring the woman beside you to focus all of his attention on you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here, carina - you from out of town? Come to see the sights?” He keeps his voice low and soft, trying to give you the impression that he was harmless, the fun little game of cat and mouse already beginning as he grinned at you. You glanced at your friend, peeping cutely that you were in Napoli on holiday, and Mista saw that as his in. Hooking you into a ‘pleasant’ conversation about what you had been doing here on holiday, the gunman cracks a couple of jokes and grins when you (hesitantly) laugh in return. He steadily began to shift his position, growing ever closer to you, until he was sat next to you, one of his muscular arms slung around the back of your chair, the other lightly holding a bottle of beer, “Well, baby, we’ve been having a real ball of a time so far, but I don’t think I ever asked for your name…” Mista trailed off, smirking and allowing his fingers to trail idle patterns into the back of your neck, inhaling slowly to take in the soft scent of your perfume - floral but not too sweet, perfect for his senses, “My name’s Guido Mista.”
“Oh, uhm…” You glanced at your friend, panicking, but she was too busy glaring at Mista to notice, “M-my name is (Y/N)... it’s, uhm, nice to meet you?” Curse your need to remain polite even in the face of the creepy dude who’d been staring at you from across the room for almost two hours now. You were already uncomfortable with being out tonight, as this wasn’t your usual ‘scene’ when it came to spending time with friends, but the added unwanted attention from Mista had made you even tenser. You… you shouldn’t have come out tonight, not with how the dark eyes of the man beside you roved hungrily over your figure - fuck, you should have never trusted your friend’s choice of dress for the evening. Unable to take Mista’s stare much longer, you slowly moved to stand, giving him a polite, if wobbly smile, trying to stop the slight trembling of your body, “I, uh, it’s getting pretty late and I should probably head back to… to my hotel for the night. I’ve had a little too m-much to drink, after all,” You giggled nervously, anxiety washing off your body in waves. You were so desperate to get away from this Mista guy that you didn’t notice your friend being called away, nor did you notice the way Mista’s eyes lit up with excitement. To him, your new need to get out of the club, alongside your smile and ‘bedroom eyes’, signalled Mista that you wanted him to follow you.
Mista smiled and moved to stand beside you, relishing the way you slightly startled - and weren’t you just so cute, playing at being frightened of him… what a freaky girl you were, “How’s about I walk you home, in that case, cara mia?” Mista purred, his voice purposefully low and soft, making the tone gentle, but with an edge that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Before you could try to talk your way out of this situation, the dark-eyed man had already looped your arm through his, resting your tense hand in the crook of his elbow, a sharp smile lighting his handsome features dangerously, “After all, this part of town isn’t a place for a pretty little thing like you to walk through all alone. You’d be much safer with me as your guide - everyone around here knows not to mess with me,” You barely managed to bite back a fearful whimper at that, desperately turning to glance back to your friend, who was too busy arguing to notice how you were being dragged out of the club. Though you dragged your feet on the floor, Mista was stronger and more eager to get out than you now, the gunman easily pulling you along with him down the street, chattering a mile a minute about something you couldn’t quite hear over the rush of blood that rang in your ears. You hardly noticed when Mista tugged you down a smaller street that was tucked away from the busy nightlife of downtown Naples. You didn’t notice when he weaved his way through the twisting alley turns, aiming to find the perfect spot for you and him to get a little handsy. You didn’t notice the few people who caught sight of Mista simply disappear, trying not to catch the gunman’s attention or ire, their pitying glances locked on your trembling form.
You only came back to yourself when you were unceremoniously pushed inside a small, hidden alcove in the heart of a twisted maze of concrete and crumbling buildings, your back against the rough wall and a pair of chapped, full lips devouring your mouth in a hungry kiss. Freezing up, your (E/C) eyes went wide, hands fluttering up to try and weakly press against Mista’s chest, panic surging through you so suddenly that you instinctively bit his tongue. Mista broke the kiss with a rough curse, his hands running over your thighs, hips, ass, up to your torso and chest, a hungry glint in his dark gaze that made you shudder in fear, “P-please, please don’t-” You barely manage to pass the words through your lips when one of his rough hands wraps around your throat, his legs kicking your feet apart and forcing you to make space for his narrow lips, “Mista, w-wait, let’s j-just talk about this-!” Your words are cut off by the tightening of his hand around your throat and the dangerous ‘click’ of a cocking gun, your whole body going stiff as you stared Mista in the eye. No… no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening to you, where the hell did this guy get a gun-?
“Ah, ah, ah, baby, you gotta behave,” Mista crooned, kissing his way down from the corner of your mouth to your neck, admiring the way you gasped and flinched at the sensations. Oh, you fell into the roleplay so well! It had been so long since Mista’d found a girl willing to indulge him in his darker kinks. You whimpered and held still, feeling the cool press of the gun’s barrel against your temple, “There we go, that’s a good little slut. There’s no need for you to play hard to get now - I’ve seen the way you were looking at me all night. Wearing a tiny dress like that, begging to get fucked,” Mista hissed the degrading words through his teeth, free hand tugging your hips, pulling your body and forcing you to turn over, pressing your front up against the wall instead. Mista groaned when the change in position forced you to bed forwards, your soft, pretty ass grinding back into the gunman’s hard crotch, teasing him, “Damn, what a lucky fucking bastard I am, finding such a perfect slut among all the other pretty dames in the club. C’mon, doll face, grind back on me, show me how bad you want me,” You released a wretched sob, terrified out of your mind, trembling as you did as instructed. You knew you should speak up and fight back, but the gun pressed to your temple remained, unmoving, even as Mista groaned and bucked sharply into your ass, “Fuuuuuck, baby, this ass is so perfect - so soft and round, ugh, I can’t wait to watch it jiggle as I fuck you right here, up against the dirty alley wall. Nasty little bitch, you must be gagging for my dick with how hard you’re grinding up on me.”
“P-please, don’t-” You whimpered, only for a hiccuping moan to pass your lips, the sound bringing a chuckle to Mista’s lips, “Please d-don’t say t-those things,” You mewl pathetically, crying out when the dark-haired gunman grabbed you by your hair, fingers tangling in the locks and twisting them into a tight fist. A sharp gasp left your throat, the stinging pain causing tears to flow down your cheeks, mussing up your mascara and forcing you to grind back even harder against him. Gods, what had you done to deserve this? Why was this man so hell-bent on humiliating you? You whimpered when you felt the hard outline of his cock rub against you through the layers of your clothing, mortified to feel a bolt of heated lust shoot through your body at the sensation. No, no, this couldn’t be happening, you couldn’t be… be getting turned on by this, right? Another tug on your hair had your lips twisting into a wince of pain, a yelp following soon after when you felt the hand in your hair harshly clap your right ass cheek, “Ah! N-no, don’t-don’t! Sir p-please, I’ll g-give you anything you want, just please le-let me go!” The ‘sir’ slipped out before you could stop yourself, pathetic sniffles and quivering shoulders sending a shudder of pure arousal up Mista’s spine. Damn, but you were getting into this roleplay, weren’t you? You almost sounded genuine, enough that Mista laughed and slapped the other cheek of your ass, watching happily as your skirt shifted. The second sting caused you to cry out once again, tears flowing in rivulets down your cheeks, your neck, your chest, making a mess of your front as Mista continued to spank you.
The gun slipped lower, Mista bringing the cold metal down to your lips, running the barrel against your red-bitten lower one as a new idea formed in his mind, “Y’know, if you don’t learn to shut up, I’ll just have to make you, won’t I?” Mista purred and you felt chills rushing down your spine, thighs clenching together, the slick skin rubbing wetly, a dull ache forming in the apex of your thighs. You shuddered, disgust and lust mixing into a heady cocktail, making your mind fig as you hesitated to open your mouth. Mista hummed and pressed the barrel more insistently against your mouth, his voice deepening into a deep growl, “Open. Your. Mouth. Slut,” He emphasised his words by grinding his hard cock against your ass, and with a sob you followed his order obediently, allowing the cold metal to rest on your tongue. Mista groaned at the sight, his chin resting in the crook where your neck and shoulder met, dark eyes drinking in the pathetic, miserable expression you wore so well. The flush of your cheeks, however, gave away just how turned on you were with Mista’s actions, the gunman grinning and pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to the back of your shoulder, “Fuck, that’s a good girl, now, wrap those pretty lips around the barrel and give it a good suck, hmm? I wanna see how good you’d be at sucking my dick,” His warm breath brushed over the wet skin he’d kissed and you shivered, whimpering, your cheeks hollowing inwardly as you sucked on his gun, his hand returning to your hair so he could encourage you to begin bobbing your head.
Mista murmured something soft in your hair, rolling his hips insistently against your ass, the stinging slaps from before having bruised your backside, dull, aching throbs echoing through your body. Once he was sure you would keep up the movements of your head, he shifted his hand to slide his palm down your back, his body leaning away from you only long enough that he could ruck your skirt up over your hips, groaning deeply at the sight of the sheer lingerie you’d worn, “Oh, fuck baby, aren’t you just a pretty little thing, wearing such scanty underwear,” Mista breathed, Staring hungrily as his clothed cock rubbed between the cleft of your ass, a deep groan passing his lips from the sensation, “Mmmh, you make me wanna do all sorts of bad things to you, carina. I wanna fucking ruin you for other men, wanna fuck you bare and feel how tight you’ll be around my cock… hell, maybe I’ll fuck this tight pussy with my gun, see how well you take it,” You shuddered and gagged as you took the barrel of his gun a little deeper than you should when Mista reached down and ripped your underwear’s crotch to shreds, the flimsy material clinging to your hips, but exposing the damp folds of your pussy. Mista released a sharp whistle of appreciation, his hand fumbling to undo the front of his pants, briefly wishing he had the patience to push you to your knees and have you worship his cock like a good slut. It was too bad, he’s sure you would have made such a pretty sight. Sighing deeply, Mista felt the relief of his cock springing free from its confines, briefly digging in to pull his balls out as well. Pressing the head between your plump labia, Mista hissed out several expletives, rubbing between the throbbing folds and relishing the way you instinctively tightened up, “Ooooh, baby, I can already tell you’re going to be a tight little bitch, mph! Don’t worry sweet thing, I’m gonna make sure you’re all loose and wet and perfect for me, just keep sucking my gun like a proper whore,” You whimpered, sniffling pathetically and unable to do more than what Mista instructed you to.
Leaning forwards and down, Mista gathered a mouthful of spit and let it trickle out of his mouth, his aim allowing the wetness to splatter on his cock and your labia. You flinched and tried to arch away from the sensation, only to gag messily around the gun barrel in your mouth, drool slipping from between your lips to soak the metal and the hand holding the weapon. Mista grinned widely at that, using his other hand to rub his spit into the skin of his dick, slicking the thick tool while he rubbed over your folds, relishing the way your pussy dripped and throbbed against his fingers, “Mmmh, yeah baby, that’s a good girl, such a sweet fucking slut you are~. You’re dripping on me so much, bet I could slide right inside you without having to work you open,” You mewled and trembled, ashamed with yourself when your pussy gushed wetly at the suggestion, the gunman laughing derisively behind you as he felt how much wetter his cock head became, “Ooooh, you like that though, don’t you, baby? I’m not surprised - I bet you take other guys like that all the time huh? Fuck, look at you, grinding back on me, desperate to be filled up with the guy holding a gun to your head… you won’t mind that I didn’t bring a condom, hmm?” You froze and tried to turn your head to give Mista a frightened, pleading look, only for the dark-haired man to grunt and push your front more firmly against the alley wall, hand moving to grip your hip tight enough to bruise, “What am I saying, of course, you won’t mind. Slutty bitches like you don’t get to ask for guys like me to wrap it up.”
You carefully slipped the gun from your mouth, trying to free it up to beg for Mista to stop, to plead with him - only to scream instead when Mista slammed the full, fat length of his dick inside your unprepared cunt. The dark-haired gunman hissed between his teeth, sinking inside your tight heat to the hilt, unable to stop himself from immediately pulling back and snapping his hips against you again, “A-ah, ah, f-fuck, mmh!” You couldn’t help but moan pathetically, hands scrabbling uselessly at the rough wall in front of you. The skin of your fingertips split apart, rough stone scraping at the delicate flesh and causing you to bleed lightly. The stinging pain in your fingers barely pulled your attention away from the too-full feeling of Mista’s cock inside you, the gunman gripping your hips and thrusting inside you with sharp, quick bursts. If this was a roleplay where Mista would have cared about prepping you properly, he might have slowed his movements or at least given you time to adjust to how thick he was. But this wasn’t the time for Mista to be soft and sweet and understanding - no, this was the time for the gunman to take what he wanted from you. Grunting sharply, Mista shifted your positions until he could have your bent over properly, his hand moving from your hip to your hair and tangling in the already messy strands once more. This new position allowed the dark-haired man to apply more force and depth to his thrusting, his hips bucking wildly into you, the tip of his dick ramming into your poor g-spot with expert preciseness, “Ah, ah, ah, ah, oh g-god, oh god, p-please, it’s too-mph! I-it’s too much!” You wailed, voice wrecked and pathetic, your hips both trying to push back into Mista’s thrusts and away from the painful pleasure that washed through your body. Your back arched, filthy noises spilling from between your red-bitten lips, scalp stinging from the tugging and twisting of Mista’s hand n your hair.
“Fuck yeah, such a perfect dirty slut, taking me so fucking well, mmmh, you love this fat Italian dick, don’t you, baby?” Mista growled thickly, his dark eyes glued to your soft ass as he pounded into your from behind, admiring the way it jiggled and began to bruise from the force of his movements. Fuck, but you were such a pretty little thing, such a tight cunt, so perfect for taking Mista’s cock and playing along with his greatest fantasies, “Hahh, fuck, I think I’m gonna keep you baby~! I think I’m gonna ruin this pussy, pump you full with my thick cum and wreck this perfect little body of yours,” You whined sharply at his words, his balls slapping your clit and shooting waves of pleasure up your spine, arousal tingling and coiling tightly in the pit of your gut. Mista laughed breathily, shoving his gun back into his pants and using his now-free hand to slap your ass, watching as the skin darkened beneath his palm before reaching down between your thighs, his thumb and forefinger toying with your throbbing clit with expert motions, “Fuck, you’d like that wouldn’t you? You’d like being my messy whore, the slutty bitch that belongs to the right-hand man of Passione, huh? Don’t cry baby, I know you do - don’t worry, sweet thing, I’ll make sure to keep you alllll to myself once I’m done dumping my fat load inside this tight cunt,” Mista’s words hit you like a truck, your swollen (E/C) eyes going wide with fear and understanding of your precarious position right now. Oh god, you’d heard the rumours about Passione, about the new Don and his bodyguard. Your body shook with fear, the heady feeling mingling with your pleasure, making you tighter, wetter, more sensitive. Mista could feel you tightening up, his teeth flashing bright white in the darkness of the alley, “Mmmh, you gonna cum, baby? You gonna let me fill this needy pussy like a good cumdump? C’mon, I wanna hear you say it - tell me you want me to cum inside you.”
“P-please, please fuck me, please c-cum inside my pussy!” You sobbed and babbled, the words spilling from you without a second thought, the terror of what would happen if you denied his orders making you shudder in revulsion and fear. You hated yourself for how turned on you were, how close to the edge of bliss you were, but you couldn’t stop the freight train of pleasure that loomed over you, “Please, S-Sir, please let me cum!” Mista growled and slapped your clit sharply, the pleasure-pain causing you to gasp and throw your head back with a guttural cry, inner muscles clenching around the gunman like a vice. Your orgasm exploded out of you, soaking the skin of your thighs and Mista’s cock, balls and pants in your wetness. Your release and seeing the mess you made from being fucked to squirting was enough for Mista to blow his load, the dark-haired man slamming into you with a hard, jerky thrust, breath hissing from between his teeth as he gritted them. Thick, hot ropes of cum filled your bruised insides to the brim, and you sobbed messily at the feeling, your head hanging low, cheeks scraped and bleeding lightly from being forced against the wall. You felt sick to your stomach, ill with the knowledge that if you didn’t behave and do what Mista said that-no, best not to think on it.
Releasing a pent up sigh, Mista pulled out of your stuffed, aching core, lazily watching as his cum poured out of you like a waterfall, admiring the way you shook and flinched from his thorough fucking. Patting your ass, the gunman tucked his cock back into his pants, teeth glinting in a sharp grin as he heard your pathetic whimper, “That’s a good bitch. Fuck, baby, you’re so good at giving me what you want. Now, make yourself presentable - I’ll call us a ride and we can head over to my place for some more fun.”