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‘Enjin?’
Zanka’s voice was quiet as he pushed the door open. He was quite nervous when he heard that Enjin called for him, yet he had an idea what this was about. He swallowed dryly, bracing himself for the scolding that was about to come. That didn’t even matter. He just hated the idea that the man he looked up to the most was disappointed in him.
However, it seemed worse than he had expected. Brows furrowed, jaw clenched tight, the blonde was pacing slowly around the room, absolutely furious.
‘Did you call for me?’, he asked while slowly closing the door behind him.
‘What the fuck was in your mind, Zanka?’ Enjin roars. ‘Why? Why would you do something so reckless?’
He freezes.
‘Look, Enjin, I didn't mean t-’
‘You didn’t mean to what? Wasn’t I clear enough when I told you NO FIGHTS until you train more? What was in your mind to provoke Jabber like that?’
‘I… I had to, says Zanka, his knuckles white around Assistaff. ‘I have to beat him, Enjin. I can’t take it to lose against him one more time. I’d rather give up on my job as a Cleaner than this. I need to win.’
‘Is that so?’ Enjin scoffs. ‘And that’s your idea of winning? A full suicide mission? All alone against that insane son of a bitch?’
‘You don’t get it..’
‘No, you don’t get it, Zanka! You could have died there. You think pride matters more than your life?! Do you even know how worried we all were for you? Gone, without any single trace, while the Raiders are lurking on us at every single corner?’ He rakes his inked fingers over his face in a mixture of anger and disbelief. ‘I told you to wait until I’d train you more, and then you could fight him.’
Zanka bit hard on the inside of his cheek, a futile attempt to save himself from drowning in shame. The worst part of it was that Enjin was right. He was about to lose the fight again before Tamsy pulled him out. He couldn’t bring himself to look Enjin in the eyes. Maybe he should just apologize and promis-
His train of thought was interrupted by the dragging of a chair across the floor. The tall man moved the shabby wooden chair from the desk to the middle of the room. ‘I’m sorry, Zanka, but I can’t simply allow you kill yourself for such childish things, he said flatly, rolling his sleeves before sitting down.
‘Bend over my knee.’
Zanka’s blood ran cold. He blinked slowly, not sure if he heard it right. ‘You can’t be serious?’
‘Over. My. Knee. Now.’, he said through gritted teeth, leaving no room for argument.
The young boy felt as if the whole world was crumbling over him. This could not be happening. Not at his age. Yet, despite the tightness in his chest, he advanced with weary steps. He knew better than to try talking himself out of it. He barely reached Enjin when he yanked him by the wrist across his lap. His pulse spiked, blood roaring in his ears as he dangled, face close to the floor.
‘I never imagined you’d be the one to push me to do this,’ Enjin said, pressing the left hand into the small of his back, ‘but you brought this lesson upon yourself. And now you are going to take every single strike I give you. Understood?’
His hand fell flat, a sharp sound echoing between the flaking walls, leaving the poor boy gasping in disbelief. No way this was truly happening. Not by his mentor. No way.
‘Understood, Zanka?’, he snapped, hitting him hard again across the thighs.
‘Yes, understood,’ he replied, voice shakier than he’d ever admit.
‘Good.’
Enjin’s palm fell into a steady yet painful rhythm that made Zanka’s breath hitch every time it made contact. Body taut, throat dry, he could only bite back his whimpers of pain and pray it would be over soon. It was overwhelming. Pain. Shame. Humiliation.
The merciless palm stopped for a moment, only to feel it tugging at his waistband.
‘Enjin, please, y-you don’t have to do that!’
‘Quiet boy, or I keep going until you won’t be able to sit down for a week.’
The cold air was a stark contrast against his hot, stinging bare skin. Enjin rested his palm against his ass, patting him softly. Taunting him. For the first time, something cold ran down Zanka’s spine. Despair. This was going to be way worse than he imagined.
The slap landed high on his cheeks, stealing a loud whine from him. His soul left his body. Enjin’s big hand was as hard as wood. Another hit. Another jolt from the sprawled boy. The pain went through his bones. The blonde pressed harder on his back, steadying him for more cruel strikes, again and again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Tears dwell in his eyes, aching whimpers filling the room. It didn’t matter where it hit, whether it was his bottom or his thighs; the only things left behind were red handprints and burning skin. He braced his trembling hands on the floor, doing little to no service to the steady back-and-forth rocking of his body.
‘Are you learning your lesson, Zanka?’
The tattooed hand was picking up the pace. Hot tears spilled on his cheeks. He was breathing hard, whining at the ruthless impact.
‘Y-yes I a-am..’, he mumbled.
Enjin’s palm landed more heavily on the already sore skin.
‘Lounder, Zanka. Will you ever do stupid shit like that again?’
The small boy was trembling, vision blurry, mind scrambled.
‘N-no Enjin..I will.. I w-will be good..I will..’
The slaps focused on the sensitive skin between the butt and thighs, right in the center of his ass.
‘Promise?’
Loud cries of pain seeped into every corner of the room. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t take it anymore. His legs were kicking into the air.
‘YES! I PROMISE! I PROMISE! I’M SORRY. I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN. I PROMISE I WILL BE GOOD! I’M SORRY I’M SORRY!’
After one last sharp strike, he finally stopped. He was quiet for a while, looking at the boy trembling in his lap. His sobs were loud, loud enough for all the Cleaners to hear. His behind was bright red, sore, and throbbing, a huge contrast to the otherwise pale skin. He would really feel it for another few days. Good. It meant the lesson was learned. Enjin started rubbing soothing circles on his stinging ass with a surprisingly gentle hand.
‘Shhh… It’s alright. It’s over now. Shhh.. It’s ok. Let it out. You took it so well.’
The blonde kept at it until the boy wound down for a bit, then he gently pulled up his pants. He lifted Zanka to stand on his leg, leaving him to cry softly into the crook of his neck. One hand cupped the back of his head, the other stroking his back up and down.
‘I am s-sorry, En-njin. I-’
‘Shh… You don’t have to apologize for anything. You are a good boy, so dear to me, and I can’t risk losing you, ok? Not for meaningless quarrels. Not for anything. So just keep your promise, alright?’
Zanka nodded softly, arms wrapped tight around Enjin’s neck.
‘That’s my champ. Now let’s go and get you something warm to eat, shall we?’