Page 2 of Paid in Full
“Louder. I want the cameras to hear everything you say. Your responses are being recorded.”
Dumbstruck, I look in every possible corner I can, but don’t see anything that looks even close to a camera. The strap holding my head down doesn’t allow me to see very much, so there’s still a chance he’s not lying. At the stranger’s exasperated sigh, I look back down at him as he stands and starts to fiddle with the buckle on his belt.
“I was hoping we could get through this part without discipline.” He tugs on one end and drags it through, the sound of the belt clearing the loops skittering up my spine. Shuddering, I stare at the folded leather. It looks worn and well-used.
Dad didn’t even spank me growing up, much less use a belt on me. He didn’t need to. Even after Mom died, I kept up with my grades, helped out around the house, and didn’t party. Hell, in many ways, I was more mature than Dad. The very thought of this stranger using a belt on me sends bile racing up my throat.
“N-no, Sir. Please. I’m sorry, Sir. Twenty-two!” I purposefully raise my voice when I state my age, not wanting to be told or threatened again.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, hanging the belt on my left leg. “How long ago did you turn twenty-two?”
“I don’t know.” Bile rises again as my heart jackhammers out of control.
“How do you not know?”
“I don’t know what fucking day it is!” I scream out, hysteria forcing my mouth open. Instead of paying me any attention, he makes a few notes on his paper.
“Language. I promise you, you will not like what we do to wayward tongues. A ballpark, if you will.”
“About a month?”
“Father’s name?”
“Jack Evans, Sir.”
“Are you aware that your father frequents gambling halls all across the city?”
I want to hang my head, to hide the shame from this man, but the strap holding my forehead doesn’t let me. “Not for certain, Sir. But I’ve had my suspicions.”
“I see. Virginity status?”
My jaw drops as I stare at him, unable to answer for a moment. Why type of question is that? He doesn’t even look up from his papers, but his hand starts to inch towards the belt.
“I’m a virgin.”
That gets him to look up at me. “Toys? Masturbation? Dildos?”
“I don’t underst-.”
“Fortunately for you,” he pauses for a moment and puts the papers down in his lap. “You’re not here to understand. Now answer the question. And make sure you speak up for the camera.”
I swallow, looking down to avoid his heated gaze. Unfortunately, that shows me just how naked and vulnerable I am. “Fingers only. I don’t dare get a vibrator while I’m still at home with Dad.”
“I see. So, a college girl and a virgin. Seems highly unlikely.” Again, he pauses, but this time, he places his hand against his ear and looks up at a spot high on the wall. “Did you ever insert your fingers inside?”
Heat engulfs my face. “Y-yes, Sir.”
“Did anyone else insert their fingers into you?”
“Yes, Sir.” I glance away, unable to meet his unyielding gaze. It’s bad enough that the fun I did have left me feeling ashamed and used.
“Did you enjoy it?”
Fuck. How do I even answer that one? The few men that took advantage of me didn’t seem to care if it hurt or not. They just shoved their fingers right in, grateful to be allowed any sort of access.
“Look at me.” The bite in his tone is acidic, forcing my gaze upward. “Don’t you dare lie.”
“No.” Just that one word and shame fills me to the brim. I hated what they did to me, but in return for their fumbling, I got a few precious moments where someone wanted me. If I closed my eyes tight enough, I could convince myself they even loved me.
