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"I doubt Angelo Vitali has the slightest idea what a Tik Tok is. He's a dinosaur. He is out of place and at great risk of going extinct imminently."
Gemma smiled at Willow's grand pronouncements. Anybody else would have just called him old, but not Willow. She liked to cut to the core of things, open them up, and spread them out for everybody to see.
Meanwhile, in the house of Vitali…
"You knew what would happen when you posted our business online, boy. You were testing me. Looking for a response. You've been jealous of Digby, haven't you?"
Angelo was right. As usual. Having a new captive in the household had been exciting at first, but Bobby did not like feeling as if he were the old dog being replaced by a new puppy. Angelo's interrogations of Digby over the past weeks had been lengthy and thorough. Having his lover's attention focused entirely on him now made Bobby feel as though the good old days were back.
He found himself bent over Angelo's desk, his pants all the way down to his ankles, nothing covering his ass or thighs besides the occasional slap of the belt. This was not the punishment proper. This was the foreplay, the warming before the inferno. He was half-erect already just from being in this position, Angelo's big hand occasionally pinning him down by the back of the neck for a particularly firm slap or running up through his hair to roughly caress his scalp before sliding back down again.
He seemed to be planning a simple, old-fashioned spanking. It was a little plain considering Angelo's usual tastes, but…
Angelo slid a pen and paper around in front of Bobby's prone front end.
"Write what I'm doing to you as I'm doing it, boy."
Bobby pushed up and turned around to look at Angelo. "Write it?
Angelo pushed him firmly back down on the desk.
"Yes. Write it. You like to write so much. Describe what I'm doing to you. I'll read it afterward, and if I don't think it is descriptive enough, I'll punish you again. And again."
Anybody else might have had a chance of being joking, but Bobby knew Angelo well enough to know that he was not.
"Ouch!" Bobby cursed as Angelo's palm landed on his bare ass.
"Write it down, boy!"
"Ow, okay, okay."
He's hitting my ass, he scrawled. It fucking hurts.
"Oh, this will hurt a lot more than it currently does, boy," Angelo promised.
Now he's doing threats.
"Threats?" Angelo laughed.
Bobby smirked down at the page. This may have been intended to humiliate him, but he was loving absolutely every minute of it. It made him hot. It flushed him with heat and defiance, two elements that never failed to make his cock hard. If this kept up, he might end up spilling his seed over the polished top of Angelo's desk.
Schwip! That was the sound of Angelo's belt being removed. Bobby tensed, then relaxed. This is what he wanted. This is what he needed. The pain was necessary for release to happen. A thought struck him. He started scribbling again.
He's taking his belt off. His pants are going to fall down….
WHAP!
"OW!" Bobby gasped as Angelo's belt lashed against his ass. It had been too long since he'd last been whipped, and he'd lost all his built-up resistance and conditioning. "FUCK!"
"Write it down," Angelo reminded him in that smooth drawl.
OW, Bobby wrote. FUCK.
The belt landed again. Hard. And then again. Harder. And then faster and then over and over again until there was no chance of writing a word.
"Keep writing," Angelo insisted.
"Come onnnn….ow!" Bobby squealed as the belt landed over the same spot it had already landed a dozen times before.
"Write, or I get the cane. And make it descriptive. I want to see adjectives, boy."
"What the fuck is an adjective?"
"A word which describes a noun," Angelo's belt flicked against Bobby's inner thigh.
"Ow! That's not helping!"
Angelo leaned over Bobby and took the pen from him, his lips just inches away from Bobby's hot flushed ear.
He is thrashing my hot, tight, red ass, he penned in an infinitely more composed script than Bobby could manage.
"Oh, okay, I understand… fuckkk!"
Angelo had whipped the belt across the bottom of Bobby's cheeks and was preparing to do it again. There was no chance to write. Bobby's palm sprawled, the pen going flying as Angelo lashed him hard and fast, the strokes landing with a merciless intent to ensure that he never did anything so reckless as blog again.
Caught between pain and even more pain, Bobby found pleasure. It started deep inside him, energy that surged from somewhere hidden, oozing from his cells and the twisted parts of his psychological anatomy. It filled him slowly, surging in time with his pulse, ragged breath, and the rhythmic thrashing of the belt.
Angelo was a merciless bastard, and Bobby loved him for it. This punishment was more than an attempt at disciplining a wayward mate. It was what Bobby craved so deeply he couldn't live without it. His orgasm rose and surged and made his cock painfully hard.
