Penny is shown the ropes, literally. In her words

THWACK.

The crop connected with my right buttock. It was a sharp, stinging slap that echoed off the stone walls.

"Correction applied!" Hardrind shouted.

I gasped, my eyes widening. The sting was electric. It didn't hurt—well, it did, but it was a clarifying fire. It woke up every nerve ending I had. My spine snapped straight instantly, my posture becoming perfect, rigid, and undeniable.

"Better," Hardrind purred. "Much better. I see the focus in your eyes now, Plumb. You enjoyed the correction."

"I... I am the wood," I stammered, my face burning. I didn't hate it. God help me, I didn't hate it at all.

"She’s ready for the payload," Hardrind declared.

Barnaby picked up the "Stunt Cheese"—a massive, yellow block of high-density polyurethane used for calibration. He stepped behind me.

"You took that like a champ," he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my neck. "Hardrind used to be 'The Iron Platter' back in the nineties. She doesn't miss."

"Load me up, Hunk," I said, my voice steadier than it had ever been.

He lowered the heavy rubber cheese onto the flat of my back. The weight drove me down, pressing me harder into the velvet ropes. The sting on my backside throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

"Stable," Barnaby announced.

I stood there, bound in velvet, carrying a fake cheese, with a stinging bum and a handsome gardener staring at me like I was a prize-winning heifer.

"Triple pay," I whispered to the empty room. "Definitely triple pay."