The Deacon

Ebenezer Elliot stretched his husky frame out on his overstuffed leather chair. He looked across the table at his new secretary, Emily Castle-Jones. He'd taken her on as a favor to his mentor, Abe. Having known the entire family, he'd definitely ended up with the worst Castle-Jones. With a bad blonde dye-job, a resting bitch face, a distinctly Karen-ish feel with the blonde bob style, smallish tits and a tiny, pert ass, every physical gift bestowed upon her younger sister had seemingly come at her expense. She was divorced and rent from a comfortable lifestyle. The bitch needed to be broken, Ebenezer concluded. And that wasn't a terrible thing.