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He sat back down, still without a word, and dinner ensued in a far more respectable fashion. After a short while, Gemma started to half-regret her actions. She was actually quite hungry, and the chicken was calling her name.
"May I come out now, please, sir?"
She asked Angelo the question in the most submissive and polite tones possible. She was certain that he would have said no, or ignored her completely if she hadn't made such a show of bending to his will.
Angelo did not answer. Instead, he flickered a glance at Bobby and nodded his head just a fraction.
"Come and eat something," Bobby said. "Just behave yourself, alright?"
"Oh, I will. I promise. Thank you so much."
Gemma came out of the corner gratefully, ready to eat and ready to ignore Willow's dagger-like stares.
"It's interesting, isn't it," Willow remarked. "How some people can outwardly appear human while, in reality, being spineless invertebrates."
A second scoop of spud sailed through the air to commemorate that comment, issued from Gemma's spoon.
This time, there was no corner. This time, Angelo beckoned her over and pushed his chair back, and stupidly, or perhaps, very smartly, Gemma did as she was told.
"I had to do it," she explained, though no question had been asked. "She was impugning my honor and my spine!"
Angelo pulled her down over his lap without a word. He was a very quiet, enigmatic leader tonight, but that did not mean he was passive in any way. The spanking started almost immediately, his hard hand making swift, merciless contact with her behind. She had no defense against that, so she was left to wail and whine and make all sorts of ridiculous promises to be good while really trying to process the immensity of being pressed against Angelo Vitali's strong thighs.
Everybody was watching. Everybody was seeing her be spanked like a little brat. She supposed she had acted like one. Throwing potato was not the height of sophistication, but it got the point across. Angelo was also very good at getting the point across. With each and every slap, her bottom got hotter, and her pride stung more, and she was sure she couldn't take another one, but then she did anyway.
The girl was a brat. Maybe even more than Bobby. Angelo enjoyed the way her soft form squirmed against him and how she tried to behave herself in some small way by submitting at least a little.
She was also a distraction, but not just to him. Willow was very much thrown off-balance by seeing Gemma free and apparently happy with Bobby. The gambit had paid off. There was a likeness in temperament which made Gemma and Bobby something of a matched pair - and Willow saw it just as clearly as he did.
The white dress was pulled tight across her ass, still covering her cheeks, but just barely. Underwear had not been provided with it, and so there were brief flashes of her sex, the golden down-covered slit which gleamed with anticipation. Angelo felt his cock responding to that innocent display. He could never resist a mouthy brat. Breaking them in was half the fun.
Gemma was a palate cleanser. In all the desperate darkness, her wide-eyed misbehavior reminded him that there were some things in life that could be simple. Spanking a girl was simple. Turning her pale ass red until she whimpered and gasped and begged for mercy she didn't really deserve was simple. And it had the added benefit of providing a spectacle for the others.
He could have done this for hours, but his meal was getting cold, and he wanted to eat it before it attained room temperature.
He let her up, but he did not let her go completely. Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he looked deep into her eyes. "Behave," he said softly but terribly firmly.
"I will," Gemma promised softly, returning to her seat much chastened.
Angelo finished his meal in relative peace.
When he was done, he beckoned to Gemma to follow him out of the room. She did as his finger told her without much in the way of complaint. There was something about her rebellious compliance he found most interesting.
He took her to one of the several living spaces the house boasted, having been designed for a large family who liked to spend time together but also apart.
"Tell me something, Gemma," he said, pouring himself a drink. "What do you see in her?"
"In who, Willow? She's an old school friend. She said if I helped her uncover a treasure owed to her family, she'd make me rich. So I helped. You're really tall."
The last statement just sort of slipped out. With Angelo standing over her, Gemma felt absolutely tiny. She'd like a sip of whatever amber liquid was in his tumbler, but she was too nervous to ask.
