She closed her eyes, making it easier to hear the swish of his leather belt being pulled from his pants. She held her breath, dreading the first contact against her already sore backside. Tension built until she felt like her heart would beat out of her chest.
The bastard waited until she pried her eyes open to look over her shoulder to see what he was doing. He'd been waiting for her. The heated lust shining back at her from his expression was alarming. He hadn't bothered to put his cock back in his pants and already it was close to fully erect again, ready to pierce its next hole, as Jake had so poetically put it.
A sadistic smile turned his lips into an ugly snarl just as he pulled his right arm back and unleashed a full force lash across her tender buttocks. If she hadn't seen the leather in his hand, she'd have sworn he had set a line of fire across her skin.
Her already sore throat strained under her blood-curdling scream. Jake blurred before her as tears filled her eyes, spilling onto the desk below. He gave her no time to recover, pulling back and delivering a second lash, slightly lower. She was grateful for the fleece-lined restraints, because the excruciating pain had her flailing like a madwoman to be released. Without the fleece, her wrists and ankles would be bleeding.
Jake's sadistic taunts somehow made it through her foggy mind. "You're as perfect as I'd hoped, Hannah. Your pale skin marks beautifully." Another lash. Another scream. "Your tears are like an aphrodisiac to me. Look how hard I am again for you. For your pussy and your tiny butthole." He stopped long enough to stroke his erection lovingly, the gentleness in direct contrast with the severe punishment he delivered. "Take your medicine like a good girl, baby."
Medicine? The man is a whacko.
"Please... stop... enough..." She choked out pleas, her throat raw from screaming.
"I decide when it's enough."
"Don't I get a safeword?" How had she even come up with that thought?
"That implies we're playing." He took time out for another lash, this time edging higher, closer to her back before continuing. "I assure you, Hannah, there is nothing playful about this. I am experienced. I know what you can take." Another lash. Another scream. "I know what you need. We stop when I say so. Not a minute before."
Fresh sobs overtook her at the hopelessness of the situation. The belting went on so long, her ass gradually began to feel numb, for which she was grateful. She knew that if she survived this night, she'd have welts and bruises for many days. The punishment continued on for so long that her tormentor took a break to unbutton his shirt sleeves and roll them up before delivering at least another dozen cracks, this time to her sit-spots and upper thighs, where he found a fresh canvas for his evil form of art.
By the time she heard the belt fall to the floor, the athletically fit Jake Davenport was breathing heavily, as if he'd just finished a workout at the local gym. Perspiration beaded on his brow and he reached into the top drawer of his desk to pull out a hand towel.
The fact that he was prepared with a towel reminded Hannah that she was almost certainly not the first innocent woman to find herself lewdly displayed for his violent attention, and she assumed she wouldn't be the last, either.
This realization didn't bring her comfort.
Anger bubbled up inside her; the thought that whoever had gone before her should have found a way to stop the bastard, if not to protect themselves, then to stop him from brutalizing other women... like her. In that moment, she vowed she would find some way to stop him. She couldn't control who had gone before her, but she could damn well try to prevent someone else from living through the kind of hell she found herself in.
The sound of Jake's voice startled her. It took her a few seconds to realize he was talking on his mobile phone. His even voice betrayed nothing of the evil he'd perpetrated in the privacy of his own home. It sounded like he was talking to another employee, and she wondered if he'd ever whipped them so severely and, if so, what could possibly make someone continue working for a man like Jake.
"I'm getting started breaking in my newest accountant. I'll need to drop her off and then I'll head over to the warehouse. We can do a final run through for Thursday night. We can't afford any loose ends like we had last month, you got it?"
Hannah wasn't sure who he was talking to, but she was glad the anger she heard in his voice wasn't directed at her.
"Well, you see that it doesn't happen again. You may be my most trusted employee, but that doesn't mean you are immune from a correction session. Those assholes Mitchell and Lambert have the heat turned up. Everything has to be perfect. Tight. Understood?" He listened again before ending the call with an abrupt, "Later."
As horrifying as the night had been so far, the next hour was equally as bizarre. Jake Davenport opened the laptop on his desk and proceeded to tend to his work silently; typing emails, making cryptic phone calls. Hannah's punished body lay across his desk like some twisted centerpiece, there for his visual pleasure as he went about his mundane business. He would occasionally glance up to brush his hungry gaze across her body, or reach out to pinch here or slap there before returning his attention to the work at hand.
The respite gave her time to collect her thoughts, and time for the drugs to begin to work themselves out of her system, leaving her thinking more clearly. It also allowed her to listen in as Jake changed between Jekyll and Hyde, one call schmoozing potential
