Punishment time!

The Osiris Gambit – Devouring the Evidence

Veronica Moretti's breath came in ragged, uneven gasps as Stefano's fingers tightened in her snow-white chignon, forcing her to tilt her head back further. The musky scent of his arousal filled her nostrils, thick and primal, making her stomach clench with a mixture of revulsion and unwanted hunger. Her tailored navy blazer—the same one she'd worn while lecturing graduate students just hours ago—was now crumpled beneath her, the silk blouse beneath it clinging to her sweat-slicked skin.

"N-No—" she protested weakly, her voice trembling as Stefano's thumb dragged across her lower lip, smearing a bead of pre-cum that had leaked from his swollen cockhead.

"Yes," Stefano corrected, his voice a velvet growl. His golden eyes burned with dark amusement as he watched her struggle—the way her nipples hardened visibly beneath the thin fabric of her blouse, the way her thighs pressed together in a futile attempt to stifle the heat pooling between them. "You feel it, don't you? That pull."

Veronica shuddered. The Osiris Ring pulsed against Stefano's finger, its dark energy slithering through her veins like liquid sin. It burned, this unnatural need coiling in her belly, making her cunt throb despite the humiliation of her position—on her knees, her tailored slacks stretched taut over her still-voluptuous hips, her ass pressed against her heels.

"You've spent your life controlling everyone around you," Stefano murmured, his free hand trailing down the column of her throat, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make her pulse jump. "The great Veronica Moretti—chief curator, esteemed professor, traitor."

The last word was a whip-crack, making her flinch.

"I didn't—"

"Liar." His grip on her hair tightened, yanking her head back sharply. "You sold me out to Enrico Montanelli. You let his spoiled brat of a daughter rewrite her thesis while you buried my career."

Veronica's breath hitched. The memory flashed behind her eyes—Enrico's smug smile, the weight of his billions pressing down on the university board, the way her colleagues had turned their backs on Stefano one by one. She had told herself it was just politics. That it wasn't personal.

But it had been.

And now, Stefano was making it very personal.

"On your knees, slut," he commanded, his deep baritone laced with the ring's power.

Veronica's body moved without her consent, her knees hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud. The position stretched her slacks taut over her round ass, the fabric pulling against the generous curve of her hips. At fifty-eight, she had the body of a woman a decade younger—years of yoga and hiking keeping her lithe and strong—but now, that strength meant nothing.

"G-Good girl," Stefano purred, his fingers tangling in her hair again, guiding her face toward his cock.

The sight of it made her throat clench. Thick, veined, glistening with pre-cum, it stood proudly from a nest of dark curls, the head flushed an angry red. The musky scent of him filled her nostrils, making her stomach twist with a sickening mix of dread and want.

"L-Look at you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Still the same arrogant boy."

Stefano chuckled, the sound dark and rich. "And yet," he mused, slapping his length against her cheek, leaving a sticky trail across her skin, "you're the one on your knees."

With a snarl, he gripped her hair and shoved forward.

Veronica gagged as his cock plunged into her throat, her eyes watering instantly, her manicured nails digging into his thighs as she fought for air.

"D-Deeper," Stefano growled, his hips pumping relentlessly. "Take it all, professore."

She choked, her throat clenching around him, her body fighting even as her arousal drenched her thighs. The stretch was unbearable, the thick ridge of his crown bulging her throat obscenely.

Stefano groaned, his free hand groping her breast through her blouse, his fingers pinching her nipple ruthlessly. "F-Fuck—you're tight—!"

Veronica's moans vibrated around him, her humiliation fueling his lust. Tears streaked her mascara, black tracks cutting through the carefully applied foundation on her cheeks.

"You betrayed me," he hissed, yanking her head back by her hair, his cock sliding out with a wet pop. "You ruined me."

"Y-Yes—" she panted, her lips swollen, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"And now," Stefano grinned, slapping his cock against her face again, smearing pre-cum over her flushed skin, "you'll beg for my forgiveness."

Veronica's breath hitched, her guilt and lust colliding in a volatile mix.

"P-Please—"

"Louder."

"PLEASE!"

Stefano roared, his seed erupting across her face, stripes of white painting her cheeks, her lips, her eyelids. The warmth of it dripped down her chin, pooling in the hollow of her throat.

Veronica trembled, her body thrumming with degraded pleasure.

Stefano tilted her face up, his thumb brushing through the mess on her lips. "Now," he murmured, reaching for the damning file Marco had left on the desk. "You're going to eat your sins, professore."

He crumbled the pages, soaking them in the thick cum dripping from the voluptuous milf's pretty face before pressing them to her lips.

"Open."

Veronica whimpered, but her mouth parted, the mature woman's tongue lapping at the bitter pulp as Stefano pushed it past her teeth.

"Swallow," he commanded.

And she did.