The belt lashes back and forth across my ass once, twice, three times in quick, hard succession. I scream, and he lectures.
“There’s a word for girls who behave like that, Mia, and I don’t think you want it applied to you.”
The pain in my ass is nothing compared to the humiliation coursing through me. This lawless bastard thinks I am a slut, and he doesn’t want to have sex with me. He just wants to punish me.
And punish me he does. I lose count of how many times that thick leather brands my skin. Every time it lands there’s a fresh bolt of heat and pain, and every time it leaves there is anticipation of the next time it will land.
My tormentor takes his time. He knows he will not be interrupted. There’s nobody coming to save me from him. He is the one who is supposed to save me from others.
In his hands, the belt is a devastatingly elegant method of discipline. The lashes land next to one another with painful precision, and then lay over one another in a concerto of holy-fucking-hell that hurts. I try to squirm, to turn, to hide, but there is no escaping this man’s disciplinary wrath.
“Hands away,” he says sternly when I try to cover my blazing ass in yet another attempt to avoid my fate. I can’t believe he expects me to simply obey and let him do this, but should I really be surprised? This is how things are in my world. Women are possessions. We’re supposed to do as we’re told. There’s no real freedom, only distractions from the captivity we are born into. Every stroke of the belt is reminding me that what I thought was my emancipation from the world I came from was only a temporary reprieve. Sooner or later, I will be claimed by one of the men in my father’s world, and they will want me to be pure. That is what this monster is doing. He’s not teaching me a lesson. He’s protecting my future husband’s investment.
“You are precious,” he says, inadvertently confirming my thoughts. I am precious, but not for myself. For them. I am young and beautiful, and the part of my body which is still somehow wet in spite of this shocking punishment, is what I will be traded on.
“Fuck you,” I curse, my fingers curling in the sheets. I can’t escape the heat, but I can resist the pain. I can steel myself against it. I can… “Owww!” I whine as he somehow finds a part of my cheeks as yet untouched by his leather.
“You’re going to stop hanging around with drug dealers, stop going out to clubs and parties. You’re going to go to school and you’re going to do your homework, and you’re going to graduate,” he lectures. “If I have to come here and do this every day for the next four years, I will.”
Holy fuck. I can’t imagine this happening even one more time, let alone every day I’m in college. My ass couldn’t take it, and my pride definitely couldn’t either. I am humbled beyond imagination, lying on the bed where I thought I would be deflowered, and instead punished to the point of tears and beyond. I can’t speak. All I can do is sob, and hope he is done with me soon.
The belt lashes against my ass with what turns out to be one last time, catching me low across the curves of my cheeks. The tip of the thing wraps around, leaving a last kiss of heat on the most tender part of my thigh.
“Don’t make me come back here, Mia,” he says, bending down over me. I feel his hand run briefly through my hair, and then I feel the last thing I expected to feel, a tender kiss pressed to my temple, a moment of gentle intimacy completely at odds with the rest of my experience of him. “Be a good girl now.”Chapter 3Enzo
This is the first time I’ve been this close to her, so close I could touch the little dimple in her cheek if I wanted to. So close, I can see the fine line of dewy hair on her forehead, the delicate widow’s peak that needs to be kissed.
I don’t deny I’m all kinds of fucked up. The jobs I do, the code I live and die by. I’ve exacted punishment from those who’ve stolen from us, those who’ve betrayed the family. I’ve killed men who threatened the livelihood of the family.
And I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess if I hadn’t let my dick lead the way. So for God’s sake, I can’t do that now.
But when she turns to me, her eyes half-glazed from whatever-the-fuck she’s on, her tanned body glistening with whatever she’s slathered on to work on her tan, and her ass criss-crossed deliciously with the stripes of my belt, every nerve in my body’s on fire.