by Sana Chase
Table of Contents
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Sometimes to get what you want, you do things you could never dream of—even if it means bending over a desk for a spanking.
Katie Darling is a college student with a bright future—until a tragic accident threatens to derail her dreams of getting an education. When a classmate hands her a mysterious card with nothing but a phone number on it, Katie has no idea it will lead her on a wild adventure of self-awakening that will change her life forever.
Jace Weatherton, young, rich, and worth billions, isn’t looking for complications in his life. He has everything exactly the way he wants it, including a private rec room which allows him to explore his dark desires. Except complications is exactly what he gets when Katie Darling walks into his office. One look at the curvy, voluptuous beauty, and Jace realizes he will stop at nothing to claim her as his own.
This story is a stand-alone HEA and now has a NEW ENDING!! It was previously published under a different author name. If you read this story in the Shade of Surrender bundle in which it was included, the story now has an additional 20k added to finish the storyline!
***
“One other thing. You were late.”
I stared at him, confused. Hadn’t we already covered this?
“I have found that if I let my employees get away with even the tiniest infraction, they will continue to test my limits. Therefore, I cannot abide your lateness without there being a consequence.”
I gulped. There was something about the way he looked at me that set me on edge.
“Consequence? Like docking my first pay check?”
He smiled, and I shivered at the cruel curve of his lips.
“Not quite. I had something more immediate in mind.”
He rose and walked around the huge desk.
“Get up, Ms. Darling.”
Hesitantly, I stood. What immediate consequence could he possibly be thinking of?
“Turn to face the desk, lift your dress, and take down your panties.”
“I’m sorry?”
My voice cracked and the words came out in a stutter.
His eyes glinted in the light as he stared at me.
“Just how badly do you wish to continue college? Ms. Henderson will not send you on another interview. Now, turn!”
The commanding tone of his voice instinctively made me want to do what he said. I swallowed nervously and turned to face the desk. Just what had I gotten myself into? I hiked the green dress up over my curvy hips and hooked my fingers in the waistband of my pantyhose and panties.
For the briefest moment, I wondered why I wasn’t walking out the door, but I knew the answer. I needed him to pay for my college. And if I was being honest with myself, something about the situation had caused my heart to race, and it wasn’t fear.
I slid the undergarments down past my ass, and I heard him suck in a breath. “That’s good enough. Now bend over the desk with your arms in front of you, palms facing down.”
I risked a look behind me. The heated hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Mr. Weatherton?”
“Bend over, Ms. Darling.”
Filled with trepidation and something else I dared to say was anticipation, I did as instructed. The wood of the desk felt cool beneath my arms as I bent over, exposing my bare ass even more in this position. I could feel his presence behind me, weighing me down.
“Lay your cheek on the desk.”
I rested my head on the desk’s surface, my heart thundering in my chest. As I looked to the side, I realized I could see us in the mirrors of the display cases lining the walls. Mr. Weatherton stood still behind me, staring down at my exposed ass.
I thought if I could just catch his eyes in the mirror, maybe I could stop whatever madness had possessed him. “Mr. Weatherton—please…” I started to beg him, to plead with him not to continue, but I couldn’t get the words out. His eyes never moved from my bare ass.
The Billionaire’s Student
By Sana Chase
© March & August 2015
1.
The cold wind cut through my thin coat, and the misting rain joined the tears silently coursing down my cheeks as I watched the two shiny, silver coffins being lowered into the ground. Friends of my late parents and strangers I didn’t recognize murmured pat words meant to comfort my misery as they slowly passed by me on their way back to their waiting cars. I just stood and stared…and cried.
Dead. Both of them. Two lives cut short by a dangerous curve on a slick, icy road. My parents were gone, and I was suddenly an orphan. Having no other living relatives, I was truly alone in the world. How would I ever survive without them?
My parents’ lawyer put his arm around me, and using his strength, turned me away from the graves as the heavy machinery rumbling in the distance grew closer.
“Come now, Katie, you don’t need to see this.”
I allowed him to urge me away from the site and back to the waiting car, sitting black and forlorn on the muddy gravel of the access road. He opened the passenger side door for me, and I slid in, gathering my coat around me in an effort to warm the chill permeating my bones.
We were experiencing an early winter warm front, such as it was, and the snow and ice that had claimed the lives of my parents now ran in rivulets of water along the ground and roads. Still, the chill in the air persisted. I felt as though I might not ever get warm again.
Mr. Roberts got into the car and a cold gush of air circled around my feet when he started the car. I shivered and crossed my ankles as if that would ward off the cold. He pulled away from my parents’ grave site, and I stared out the window, watching tombstones pass by in a blur as we gathered speed.
“We will go to my office, so the reading of the wills can take place.”
I simply nodded. I couldn’t imagine there would be much to read. My parents didn’t have much, and what little they did have went straight into my college fund. My heart caught in my chest. College. How would I pay for it now?
The biggest dream my parents had for me was to graduate from college. They wanted more for me than what they had. Both of them worked hard to ensure I’d be able to attend school, but an unexpected illness for my father and bad medical insurance robbed a huge chunk of what they’d socked away from the time I was just a little girl.
Neither of them had wanted me to worry, but I expected to find out today that the situation was even worse than I thought. My father had recently mentioned to me the possibility of me procuring a student loan, so I suspected my college fund had taken quite a hit.
Mr. Roberts parked his car in the small lot beside his office. I didn’t wait for him to come around the black Lincoln and open my door. I wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.
The gray sky continued to spit out tiny droplets of rain as I followed him into his drab office. The place smelled musty and stale. The scent of scorched coffee lingered in the air.
Worn, brown carpet covered the floor of both the outer and inner office. The unoccupied desk in the outer office sat undisturbed and waiting for a secretary that would probably never come. Mr. Roberts had never had
one for as long as I could remember.
We stepped into his office, the inner sanctum. The smell was worse here. I wrinkled my nose against the assault of it.
Battered furniture filled the tiny space. Like the carpet, the rest of what decorated the office had seen better days. Scratches and scuff marks marred the single visitor’s chair and the chunky desk.
The two beige filing cabinets behind it were dented in such a way that it looked as though someone had used them both for punching bags. Assorted faded pictures and diplomas were scattered over the walls. Most of them sat tilted as though the office had suffered from a quake that no one had ever bothered to clean up from.
Mr. Roberts motioned to the visitor’s chair, and I perched on the edge of it, clutching my purse with both hands. The quicker this was done, the quicker I could escape the depressing office. He sat down, and the chair groaned in protest as he settled his portly body into it. Opening a manila folder on the surface of his desk, he pulled out two documents and laid them side by side.
“Your parents came in just last month to update everything. According to your father, the recent medical scare made them both realize they needed to be sure everything was current. So, I’m privy to more information than maybe I would’ve been had they not come in.
“Your parents’ wills both say basically the same thing. Each were the other’s beneficiary of everything unless they were both to die at the same time, then everything was left to you.” He frowned. “I’m sorry to say it’s not much.”
I nodded. I was expecting this.
He shifted in his seat as if what he was about to say made him uncomfortable. “The house was heavily mortgaged, and your parents were behind on their payments. I’m afraid there isn’t enough liquid assets to cover it. It’s going to be forfeited.”
“What does that mean?”
“The bank will take it.”
“I see.”
My voice cracked. It was much worse than I thought.
“Considering the circumstances, I don’t think the bank will take any further actions. Taking the house will satisfy them.”
“Will I be able to remove my parents’ things first?”
“Oh yes, of course. They won’t want the contents of the house. Just the house itself. You are free to take everything out of the house first. You’ll likely have a month or two before they seize it.”
He ran his eyes down the documents.
“The balance of their bank accounts will be yours. I’d advise you to keep back twenty percent of it because you’ll have to pay inheritance taxes.”
He frowned again.
“There’s not much I’m afraid. There’s actually more in the college fund account than the checking and savings accounts, but it’s always been that way. Your parents put pretty much everything they made into it, only keeping out what they absolutely needed to pay the bills and live on.”
A tear slid down my cheek, and I let it fall unheeded. My heart ached in such a way, I was surprised it hadn’t shattered into a million pieces. My loving, selflessly giving parents no longer existed. How could that be?
The lawyer continued.
“They never touched it…until recently. Unfortunately, the insurance paid very little on your father’s medical bills, so they had to take money from it to pay those.”
I took a deep breath to steady myself.
“How bad is it?”
“There’s not much left, I’m afraid. Both of your parents hoped to be able to stay ahead of the game and build it back up, but they weren’t able to add much to it before their accident.”
I repeated my question, and braced myself for the answer he seemed reluctant to give.
“How bad?”
“There’s enough left to pay for your spring semester this year, but that’s it.”
Oh god. It was much, much worse than I thought. I struggled not to break down in the small, suffocating office. How was I going to survive this? My family and my future had been taken from me in one fell swoop.
“It’s possible you can receive enough money in grants and loans to continue your college education, though maybe not at the same college. Just try not to panic. You’ve still got time to figure things out.”
My fingers tightly clutched my purse. I wanted to run from this room as fast as my shaky legs could carry me, but I knew we hadn’t finished yet.
“There are some papers for you to sign. You’ll need to show these at the bank to access the accounts.”
He shoved the papers toward me and held out a pen. I took it and signed. What else could I do?
2.
“Katie?”
I looked up from the book I was reading for my English Lit class. Standing by my table in the library was a tall, leggy blonde who looked vaguely familiar. Her skin tight biker shorts and hot pink tank top seemed more suited for a gym rather than a library, but who was I to judge? Maybe she’d stopped to check out a book on her way to working out.
“Yes?”
She pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and sat down.
“We are in Psychology class together.”
“Well, I thought you looked familiar. I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name.”
“I’m Becky.”
From the stack of books she carried, she pulled out a piece of paper about the size of a business card and as bright as her tank top.
“I heard about what happened to your parents. I’m very sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“Anyway, I thought you might need some help paying for the rest of your college.”
I’d been able to secure some grants, but it wasn’t enough to cover my tuition for the next three years. The loans I’d applied for had been denied. It seemed that even though I was a full time student, no place wanted to lend money to one who had no family to make the payments if I couldn’t land a job after graduation. In other words, unless a miracle landed in my lap, I wouldn’t be attending college in the fall.
She held the paper in her hand.
“Before I give you this and explain, you need to know that it’s very private and exclusive. It’s on a recommendation basis only. It’s not publicized in any way, and it needs to stay like that. You can’t tell anyone.”
“Okay.”
What on earth could she be about to tell me that required such secrecy? She handed over the piece of paper, and I glanced down at it. The only thing printed on it was a phone number.
“That number will connect you with an agency that handles high priority clients. Usually the clients are looking for assistants to help them in their daily lives.” She hesitated for a minute. “Some of them have certain…needs, and they will expect you to take care of them.”
“Needs? Is this some kind of call girl service?”
I knew of several class mates who either stripped or hooked to make extra money to help pay for school or to have expense money. I had no intention of doing anything of that nature.
“No! Of course not! If you are accepted, you will only work for one person. You will remain in his or her employ until you’ve graduated. Your salary will be paid directly to the college for your tuition and other expenses.”
My mouth opened in shock.
“Wait a minute. You mean, they pay for my college?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Just for being an assistant?”
“Well…yes.”
I could tell from the look on her face there was something she wasn’t telling me, but before I could ask, she stood up and shoved her chair back under the table.
“I can only say that I had a similar offer made to me my freshman year, and I checked it out. I was accepted and contacted by the person wanting to hire me. He’s filthy rich, and I don’t regret taking the job for one minute.”
She hurried away from my table, and I watched her as she bounced out of the library.
I looked down at the card. Even without knowing what she hid from me, I knew I would call the num
ber on it. What other choice did I have?
***
On Saturday, I drove to the address I’d been given when I called the number on the paper. The person on the other end had not given me any information. Just an address, date, and time. The building was one of the tallest in the city. It stood well above the others around it, and its shiny surface shone in the early spring sun.
I pulled into the attached parking garage and drove around until I found an empty space on the third level. My car door screeched in protest when I closed it, and I winced. The poor beat up sedan looked out of place among the glossy black luxury cars and brightly colored sports cars that filled the parking level.
I walked over to the elevator and punched the up button. The office I was visiting was located on the 23rd floor. It took a couple of minutes, but the elevator finally dinged its arrival, and the sleek, chrome doors slid opened. I punched the button for my floor and settled back against the hand rail to wait. The elevator rose smoothly, and the ride to the 23rd floor was quick and uninterrupted.
The doors opened into a small foyer with a single door. Etched in gold on the glass was the name “Carrington Acquisitions.” I wondered what an acquisition company would be doing hiring assistants. Taking a deep breath, I reached out, turned the door knob, and went in.
The plush reception room was an explosion of white. Pristine white couches adorned with fluffy white pillows sat in an L off to the side of the polished glass desk. A big, white vase filled with white tulips sat on a glass coffee table at an angle between the two couches.
Black and white pictures hung on the walls. Thick, white carpet covered the floor. My heels sank down into it as I walked to the reception desk. I felt incredibly out of place in my scuffed shoes and mall department store black skirt and white shirt.
Since I was going for what I expected to be a job interview, I tried to wear the appropriate attire. I didn’t have much choice in my wardrobe. It was the only outfit I owned besides the dress I had worn to my parents’ funeral that worked for an interview.
The receptionist looked up from her keyboard as I approached. Now, she appeared to fit in quite well. Her shiny, brown hair was slicked back and hung straight down past her shoulders.