she had in her bank account. He could relieve her poverty, but at what cost? The price was too high. Still, she saw the rigid set of his jaw and suspected he would keep her there as long as it took for her to agree to his terms. Jake Davenport was not used to hearing the word no.
"Let me think about it."
"No. Now. Here. Tonight. Sign, and we'll get you get started."
"You want me to work tonight?" she asked incredulously.
"Of course. I told you, I've been without an accountant for a few weeks. I need to get caught up before Thursday night."
She could tell he was getting annoyed with her questions, but she couldn't help but want to distract him in any way she could to keep him from picking up his belt again, or deciding it was time to stick that pole of his into her next hole.
"What happens Thursday night?" she asked.
"Enough with the fucking fifty questions. Thursday is a big night for my business and that's all you need to know. Now, I can see you're in need of some additional persuasion." He turned to walk across the room, behind her where she couldn't see. She could hear him moving objects around but had no idea what he was doing until he returned to her side, sporting a vicious-looking wooden paddle with three holes down the middle.
Hannah moved her free right hand back to instinctively cover her ass, feeling the warmth still emanating from her already punished flesh. The smile that didn't quite reach his eyes was back.
"We'll do these in sets of six. You'll take six before I give you a chance to sign. You pass, you'll get six more. And so on."
She'd been a fool. "Okay, okay... I'll sign." She reached up for the pen, but he looped the cuff around her wrist instead, resecuring her.
"I'm glad to hear it. You'll sign after you take six of the best."
The thud of the heavy paddle made the belt feel like cotton balls. Never in her life had Hannah experienced such pain as when that wood struck her tenderized ass. The coverage area was huge, and the holes allowed for less resistance in his swing. She couldn't take more. She was sure of it. Surely women have died from the paddle? That was the last thought she had before his second swing connected across both her cheeks, overlapping the last stroke enough to make her wish she could die. The pain after that swing was so intense she found herself turning internal, praying for the strength to escape this asshole and his house of horror.
It was over relatively fast, all things considered. He set the paddle down on the desk and reached to unlock her right hand, and this time when he placed the pen in her hand, her trembling made it hard to hold onto it. The paper was shoved in front of her and she scribbled her name. She told herself it didn't matter what it said, it wouldn't hold up in a court of law. All she cared about was ending the hellish torture, and if that meant signing a piece of paper, then sign it she would.
After he had released her limbs, Jake assisted her to her feet, holding her up when her legs threatened to buckle under her. With a gentleness that seemed out of place, he led her slowly the few feet to the desk he'd indicated would be hers. Only when she was around the desk did she see the next surprise he had waiting for her.
Instead of an executive chair, a sturdy stool waited. That in and of itself wasn't unusual. The six-inch long, two-inch diameter dildo protruding from the stool, however, was unique. Her eyes sought answers and Jake had the audacity to grin. "All of my office employees have the same seating arrangement. You're a good girl, so you're gonna learn to love this stool. Be a bad girl and, well, let's just say I can make you absolutely hate this stool. Hop on."
"You can't be serious."
"It's time you learned I'm always serious. You have ten seconds to hop on or I'll swap out the attachment for something you will like less."
Hannah wanted no part of finding out what that might be. Considering she'd been horny as hell when the drugs were raging through her body, she figured taking the fat phallic symbol deep might qualify as a win-win. She moved quickly to straddle the thick toy,