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“Gray, I need you to tally the votes.” Rocco advises, turning to me briefly before facing the room again, and I step up next to him, feeling Zoe’s eyes boring into me. “Men, can I have a show of hands for…”
As Rocco reads them out again, I count the hands and don’t miss the glares from the women like they are memorizing which King votes for which punishment.
Turning to me, Rocco waits for me to announce which had the majority vote, and I have to say, it’s the least disgusting and least humiliating if you ask me.
“Public slapping,” I declare and honestly, I think the whole room breathes a sigh of relief.
“Okay. Now, since Zoe has decided to forfeit her duty to ensure the punishment is delivered, I will have to do that with the Kings.
“What?” Zoe gasps, coming around to stand next to Alana. “I thought the Cruz Cunts had to deliver it.”
“They are meant to, but because their leader won’t step up to the plate, the task falls on me and my men.”
Fucking hell, this is reverse psychology at its best. Rocco knows damn well that Zoe won’t stand by and let the men slap Alana.
With her blue gaze shifting from concern to determination, Zoe glances at Alana, and then the group of women huddle together, before turning back to snarl at Rocco.
“I will do it, thank you very much. You do not have permission to touch her.”
Rocco chuckles and shrugs. “You don’t have the authority to demand that of me, but okay, Princess Zoe. The punishment is all yours.”
Rocco gestures to Alana and backs away, and the men shift their chairs in a wide circle to get a good view.
“I’m sorry,” Zoe whispers to Alana, who shakes her head and takes Zoe’s hands.
“This isn’t your fault. Don’t be sorry. I’m not. I’d do it again if it meant saving you.”
The two girls hug before they are swarmed by the rest of the women, some crying, others with expressions painted with anxiety.
The point of Mama’s humiliation punishments is to make sure members think twice before doing something stupid that goes against the rules. It’s usually the men or associates that try to harm what we’ve built here that are on the receiving end of these punishments, and I think it’s the first time a Cruz Cunt has been in the firing line.
Clearing my throat, the girls hear me and break their huddle, moving off to the side in a line, and Zoe shoots me a death glare that I’m sure will end in some fucking epic angry sex later tonight.
“So what do I do?” she snaps at me, and I gesture my head to the girls as I pick up the book and read the details of the slapping punishment.
“You have to call each woman forward, one at a time to deliver a slap across Alana’s face. It must be on one side only, and it must be hard and loud. If it’s not, then the President must choose a King to step up and deliver another slap to the correct requirement.”
Alana nods, rolling her shoulders back like she is preparing herself, but Zoe’s gaze remains on me.
“I hate you,” she snaps.
“Why are you shooting the messenger? I didn’t make these rules up. Mama did.” I defend and she scoffs.
“Well they are barbaric and I demand they be revised.”
“Noted. Now get on with it.” Rocco barks from the chair he’s now lounging in, and it wins him a death glare from my princess too.
“It’s okay, Zoe,” Alana says, brushing her hair back over her shoulders as she widens her stance. “Let’s get this slapping party happening.”
Turning her back to me, Zoe calls Rose to go first, and Rose moves to stand before Alana.
“I do this with love.” Rose tells Alana and then draws her hand back and slaps Alana hard.
The clap of it is loud in the room, throwing Alana’s head to the side and a whimper escapes her before she composes herself and faces Rose again, giving her a nod.
“Rhiannon,” Zoe calls, and the Cruz Cunt trades places with Rose and delivers her slap, which is just as hard and loud as Rose’s. “Cilla,” Zoe calls, and the younger Cruz Cunt moves timidly as she faces her friend.
She stands there, her hands fidgeting as she stares at Alana, and when Alana gives her a reassuring nod, Cilla slaps her, and you can hardly see it, let alone hear it.
