Dantes Exam Novels & Stories

Andrew's cross, a suspension rig, a padded bench, a cage large enough for a person, shelves of toys and implements, cabinets presumably holding more, and what looked like a gynecological examination chair in one corner. "This is where you'll spend most of your time this week," Dante explained. "Being trained, being used, being punished when necessary. Strip again, you'll remain naked unless I dress you." Sophia stripped, and Dante gestured to the examination chair. "Sit. Legs in the stirrups. I need to inspect what I own." Sophia sat in the chair and placed her legs in the stirrups, spreading herself completely, putting her pussy on full display. Dante snapped on latex gloves and approached.

ON MY PROFESSOR’S BED! Chapter 87. Author’s Pov. “How was your exam?” Dante took the trail of food from Nanny Teresa and walked closer to Elena, sitting at the edge of the bed and gazing into Elena’s eyes. “She didn't come to school today. She didn't come for her final year exam. Something is wrong with her Dante.” Tears perched at the bream of her eyes, her voice cracking with gentle sobs wracking up.

As he buttoned his shirt, Dante murmured, “You’re shaking, Doctor.” Elara realized she was and it wasn’t from fear. She pulled her hands behind her back so he wouldn’t see. “The exam is over, Mr. Moretti. You can get dressed and leave. I’ll send the report to Dr. Graves.” Dante finished the last button and rolled his shoulders. The black shirt stretched across his chest. “You didn’t finish the full stimulation test. You stopped early.”

Geremia replied. "Wait a minute! You guys areń fazed out about me being gay?" Valerie asked. Dante gave him an unimpressed look. "you went on your first assassination mission when you were seven years old and you succeeded and you expect us to be shocked about a simple thing like your sexuality?" he asked Valerie. "Well when you put it like that, my sexuality doesn't seem so special anymore" Valerie replied. "Dante, when is the wedding happening?" Geremia asked. "I was thinking two months time" Dante replied.

Dante looked at the door and nodded at me to take a seat, a small smirk making its way to his lips as he noticed my flustered state. “Come in” he called, watching as Yelina, one of the employees, came in with a few files in her hand. “Boss, these files need Ms. Aurora to check on them before you approve of them…” “Thank you, Yelina, you can put them on the table there. We would send them back to you once we’re done” Dante said, stopping her. She nodded and put the files on the table, as instructed before walking out of the office, leaving us both alone. Dante walked toward the files and standing up from my chair, I took a deep breath before walking toward the table to check what they are.

Testosterone bombs and death glares flying like grenades. Dante walks too close. I can feel the heat radiating off him like he’s trying to cook me. His massive hand is glued to the small of my back like he’s afraid someone might snatch me off aisle three like a fucking bottle of Chianti. And people do look. A tall, tanned dude with a man bun—Italian, obviously—brushes past me to grab canned tomatoes normally. Except not to the amnesiac lycanthropic death machine pressed up against me.

"He'll testify. Vandermeersch is sending a team." Elian held this. "The distinction?" he said. "Dissolved," Dante said. "The same way mine was. The testimony and the recovery are the same architecture." "Yes," Elian said. He looked at Dante in the August evening — the specific quality of someone who had driven to Évora and back and had done what he went to do. "You're tired," he said. "A little," Dante said. "Sit," Elian said. Dante sat on the wall beside him.

I can see them now — hundreds of women, their eyes wide. "Look at them," Dante says, his cock pressing against my entrance from behind. "Look at everyone watching you. Everyone seeing how fucking desperate you are." "I am," I gasp. "I'm so desperate —" He pushes in. Dante is different from Kael. He moves slower. He takes his time, stretching me inch by inch, making me feel every single inch of him. "Look at her," he says to the crowd. "Look at how she takes it. How she loves it."

He unwrapped it slowly, carefully, as if it might explode. Inside, they found a collection of letters tied with a faded ribbon. The paper was yellowed with age, the ink slightly smudged, the handwriting elegant and looping. They were addressed to Elena Moretti—Dante's mother—from a man named Alessandro. Cassandra handed Dante the first letter, her brow furrowed. "Who's Alessandro?" Dante's face went pale as he read. His hands began to tremble. He didn't answer—he just stared at the page, his jaw tight, his eyes hollow.

"I'd like to do it now" "Dismissed then" Danté headed to the door, he wanted this over as soon as he could. "Good work again, pass the test, and a rank awaits you" Roman said making Danté halt a second then left. Lilly joined him on his way out to the Yard, it served as the arena for this test. Six chairs stood equally parted ready with steel shackles coated in silver, a ten meter high wall guarded it from prying eyes and at night a guard also stood by, be there someone attending the test or not.