Dirty Look - Dark Desires

“I told you that you needed to report to me, or…”

“Or you’ll punish me,” I finish. “I remember!”

“Exactly. And you didn’t report to me, did you?”

“Well, it's stupid," I whine.

“Is it," he growls. “Is it stupid that I want to take care of you? Let you know that I give a damn what you do, and who you do it with?”

“I mean, kinda?”

I don't mean a word I just said. But it was easy to submit to him last night. He made it easy when he overpowered me and gave me no choice. And yeah, being buzzed helped too. Today, it’s different. Today the sun is up and I blush just thinking about the idea of calling him sir.

“Heyo!”

I swear to god, Davo has the worst fucking timing in the universe. He walks into my apartment, grinning. The smile falls off his face when he sees who’s here with me.

“I thought I told you to get rid of the junkie.” Enzo talks to me like Davo is some stray dog who followed me home.

Davo looks immediately hurt at that description, and I don't blame him. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a bully, and Enzo has no right to tell me who I can and cannot be friends with.

“He's not a junkie. You don't know anything about him. Or anything about drugs. You’re old-fashioned. Behind the times. Drugs can be good for you. They can expand your mind."

“Yeah, man,” Davo chimes in. "They're pretty sweet.”

Enzo gives him a vicious, violent look. I know that kind of look. I know what comes after it. If Davo’s not careful, he’s going to be put through the wall. There’s jealousy in that look I want to defuse.

“He's a friend, Enzo. I’m not going to fuck him. He's not my type.”

“You do not address me by my first name,” Enzo growls at me.

Oh fuck. Oh no.

If he makes me call him sir in front of Davo, I think I’ll literally die of embarrassment.

“I’m, uhm, gonna go,” Davo says, jerking his thumb toward the door and backing out slowly.

“That was so embarrassing!” I practically shriek the words at Enzo when the door closes and we’re alone.

“You should have done as you were told, and it wouldn’t have been. That's a common theme for you, Mia,” he says, reaching for that damn leather paddle. He picks it up and slaps the business end against the flat of his palm, making me quiver.

“Time for your spanking, little girl.”

He announces it like it's inevitable, like there’s no way out of it. My mouth goes dry and I back away from him. I really don’t want to find out what that paddle feels like. Maybe it's time to explain what actually happened.

“I actually didn’t not check in with you on purpose. I actually forgot. Like, for real.”

“Alright, then you can be spanked, like, for real as well,” he says. He does not do a good valley girl impression. Neither do I, for that matter.

“Enzo…”

“You know what to call me, Mia.”

I can’t fucking say it. Last night was different. There was a whole mood. I was slightly high. Now it’s lunch time. My friend just got sent home. This is all way too much for me.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t.”

“Then you need a reminder.”

There's no way I’m going to cooperate with this. I guess he knows that because he doesn't bother telling me to come to him. He strides over to me, and we both know what's going to happen next. I am not wearing the kind of shoes which allow me to make quick escapes.

He catches me and tosses me over the back of the couch like I weigh nothing. I’m too easy for him to handle, too soft, too girly. He flips my skirt up over my back and I hear him curse.

“No underwear, Mia? That's how you attend class?”

“Someone made my ass hurt!”

“And that someone is about to make it hurt a whole lot more."

True to his word, I hear the paddle hiss through the air, then connect with my rear with a swift snapping sound. For a split-second, it doesn't hurt at all. Then the heat comes, a rush of warmth which could feel good, but doesn't because it's followed by a sting which makes my toes curl inside my designer shoes.

“Fuck!” I swear at the top of my lungs.

“Language, little girl," he drawls, landing another swat in practically the same damn place.

He’s ruthless. He’s cruel. He's so, so, so mean. Every one of those thoughts is accompanied by another one of those harsh swats which make the paddle land across the very center of my cheeks, right where I sit.

Enzo is making his point, and he's doing it hard and fast.

By the time he drops the paddle, I’m sobbing. I’ve never felt this much pain. My ass feels like it is on fire, but that's not the worst of it. The worst thing is feeling so weak and helpless. I didn't even mean to forget to check in with him. I've never done that before. I tell myself that it wasn't my fault. He’s being mean. He likes hurting me because he’s cruel.