by Loki Renard
She felt dizzy and nauseous. The room was hazy and she heard the chairman’s voice as if it were coming from some place very far away. “All in favor of terminating Ms. Jones’ employment, say aye.”
“Aye!” The response seemed universal.
“Ms. Jones, you’ve performed a great service to the company, but the board has voted and we agree that it’s best if we terminate your contract. Mr. Treville has a greater grasp on the future of the company; his vision is something we’d like to be on board with.” The words were not harsh, but the delivery was cold as ice.
With tears misting her eyes, Ellie nodded and left. There was nothing she could say. She had just been ousted from her job. She did not return to her office. She already had her purse with her, which was all she needed, and all she’d be allowed to take from the company anyway.
She scuttled down the stairwell and took refuge in the privacy of her car, peeling out onto the city streets she had once felt some domain over, blending in with everyone else, a teeming rush of humanity that would serve well in hiding her from Daniel Treville.
Chapter Seven
Daniel was not pleased with Ellie. Moreover, he was not pleased with himself. He expected her to behave in a headstrong, perhaps even impulsive fashion, but he also expected to be able to anticipate her acting out before she did it. He had failed on both counts.
The truth was, he had not anticipated the board’s decision to fire her on the back of her tirade that had become instant company legend. The meeting had been recorded, parts of it uploaded to YouTube by one of the company’s now-0fired interns, where the sight of a cute executive going in on her colleagues was being shared for the amusement of many.
Of Ellie, there was no sign.
She’d gone without so much as a curse word or a terse email. He stood in her empty office, feeling her loss keenly. Things were running much more smoothly, but the lack of resistance wasn’t something he was enjoying.
It had not ever been his idea for the board to fire her. That was a development he had not seen coming, but he supposed he should have. His name alone made mountains move. Ellie had known the moment he walked in the door that her career was on the line. It had been her biggest fear, in fact, and he’d never really acknowledged that. Instead he’d treated her like something to be conquered. And now she was vanquished, gone, and he missed her more than he’d missed anyone.
He took out his phone and tried calling her, just as he’d done a dozen times already since she’d been fired a week earlier. The call went directly to voicemail.
“If this is Daniel Treville, go fuck yourself,” came her voice in lilting tones. “If it’s anyone else, please leave a message.”
“Quit sulking and return my call, brat,” he drawled down the line. “We need to talk.”
He hung up, knowing she wasn’t going to return his call. She’d gone to ground, and finding her wasn’t going to be easy.
Chapter Eight
Ellie was in her stall, quite naked, bound between several lengths of rope that kept her suspended entirely off the floor. A thick long blond tail hung between her thighs, the weight of it putting a steady pressure on her anus. It swished back and forth with every desperate motion of her hips.
Preparations had been made in advance, multiple lengths of black hemp rope along with several harnesses and of course, the tail that he had made her bend over and accept, parting her cheeks for him while he lubed her bottom and then penetrated it with a thick plug from which hung the tail.
The rope had been wound about her body with care and then she had been suspended from her bindings, which were hitched to several thick rings hung in the ceiling. Now she dangled with her legs bent at the knees, spread wide enough that he could easily slip his cock into her pussy if he so desired, her arms behind her back, her breasts presented proudly through a lattice of rope.
But it wasn’t really happening. It was just another daydream. That was all she had left now, daydreams of a life and a man that couldn’t seem more distant if they’d taken place in another lifetime.
Ellie was a very, very long way from home. After the humiliating termination of her career she had gone straight home, grabbed a bag of clothes, her phone, and her passport before heading to the airport and booking a ticket to Paris, France. Somewhere far enough away that she could be sure Daniel would not pop up around the corner, somewhere far enough away that her abysmal failure would not be thrown in her face. If she was going to have to be miserable somewhere, Paris was as good as any place to do it.
For the first week or two, she did nothing but immerse herself in the ambiance of the city, trying to forget everything that had happened back in New York. It was a futile effort. Somehow she still glimpsed his face among the crowds that thronged the streets. As time wore on, she began to settle a little. Paris was the perfect antidote to New York, a city in which art, love, and history took precedence over domination, money, and power.
Even though the decision to leave had been hers, she was grieving. Grieving the life she’d made for herself that was now in tatters, grieving the loss of the love she’d had for Daniel. All his power plays and perversions aside, she had come to care for him. Paris or New York, it didn’t much matter. A world without Daniel Treville was a very different place.
A month after the fateful day she’d lost her temper and thrown her life away, Ellie was sitting in a pavement café on the Rue Saint-Honoré when she finally got the nerve to check her messages. Most of them she skipped through immediately, the ones from people at the company who were ‘checking in’ by more or less gloating. Daniel’s voice was harder to ignore. Her thumb hovered over the button, but she let it play, hearing his dark voice growling down the line: “Call me, pet.”
A little tremor of desire ran through her loins, an urge she quickly tried to distance herself from. She reminded herself that he was a backstabbing traitor of a man who had tricked her into losing her job. She had to hold onto that thought, because thinking anything else meant that she’d screwed things up all on her own and had nobody to blame but herself. And it meant that not only had she gotten herself fired, she’d ruined things with the most eligible bachelor on Earth.
She doubted many people on the sunny Parisian street were feeling the same level of despair lurking around the fringes of their consciousness. As much as she tried to convince herself that it had all been someone else’s fault, she knew well enough that the only person responsible for anything in her life was herself. People had been trying to screw her over for years. She’d always managed to stay on top. But the moment Daniel had walked into her life it had all fallen apart.
So it was his fault, in a roundabout way. Or it was her fault, for letting him in, for getting distracted by the prospect of being loved.
Croissant crumbled between her fingers as she nervously toyed with the remains of her breakfast. What now? It seemed to her that her entire life had come to an abrupt standstill. She had worked so hard for so long that she barely knew herself out of an office. She was without a job, without a lover, without a purpose. She was as aimless as the little crumbs blowing around her plate at the whim of the playful breeze.
With no idea what to do about any of it, Ellie simply sat in the Parisian sun, drinking in the ambiance of Europe and putting off the time when she would have to do something about the predicament she found herself in. Eventually the coffee grew cold and sparrows made off with the crumbs and she resigned herself to returning to the hotel room that had become a sanctuary, if not quite home.
Once there, she poured herself a bath and set to the difficult task of relaxing while relaxing. The strain of constantly doing nothing was beginning to take its toll. Perhaps after her bath, she would take a long nap before bedtime. Yes. That sounded like a good idea.
Before Ellie could disrobe and step into the welcoming warm suds, a knock at the door disrupted her plan for the day. She hastened to the door and opened it, hoping for some good news, though expecting something like tow
el service.
“Madame?” A handsome young man in hotel livery was standing at her door, holding an embossed envelope. “Pour vous,” he said with that lilting French accent that made everything seem much fancier, including simple things like envelopes.
“Merci,” she replied, taking the missive. How perplexing. Nobody knew where she was, so how could anyone have sent her a letter? It bore her name on the front, so there was no doubt that it was intended for her, but for what purpose? Fortunately, the mystery did not have to linger long.
She turned the envelope over to reveal the seal of the embassy. Hm. Her arrival in France had no doubt been noted, but she had not anticipated coming to the attention of any officials. Upon opening the letter, Ellie found herself with an invitation to a soirée being held at the US embassy that night.
Odd. But perhaps not that odd. After all, fired or not, Ellie had held the tiller of much industry back home. She was a personage of some importance, she supposed. The gilt-edged, multi-embossed, lion-bearing invitation lifted her spirits. Maybe she was persona non grata in New York, but she mattered in France. Maybe this was the next big thing. Maybe she didn’t need her former company or Daniel Treville for that matter either. Maybe she was going to make it on her own again, just as she had before.
With her spirits lifted, Ellie spent the remainder of the day in preparation. There was a dress to obtain, hair to have styled, makeup to apply. When evening arrived, so did she, wearing a silver sheath of a dress that clung to the curve of her hip in a fashion that even she found alluring to behold.
The embassy was a grand building on the Avenue Gabriel, the oldest US embassy in the world, so the Internet had informed her, and was located at the corner of one of Paris’ grand public squares. On that night, many rich and elegant people were in attendance, the ladies a swirl of fine perfume and even finer jewels, the men all clad in restrained tuxedos and the like.
She was greeted warmly, given a drink, and almost immediately engaged in conversation with a charming Italian consul whose flashing dark eyes and complete lack of shame in complimenting her form soon thoroughly transported her from her cares.
Ellie had often viewed parties in New York as something of a necessary chore, but this was quite different. There was something special in the Parisian air that night, a magic that she could feel running through her veins. Something was afoot. Yes, she thought to herself, tonight certainly would bring some change. Though the embassy was no doubt usually home to a great many serious and pressing negotiations, at that moment there was something almost mystical about the way it was lit by chandeliers, swirls of laughing, smiling people engaging in the simple pleasures of society.
She was finishing her third glass of champagne when she felt a prickling at the back of her neck, the little hairs standing up each on their own, little soldiers coming to attention. Quite suddenly, Ellie was certain she was being watched. She turned in the direction of the sensation, her eyes scanning the room.
The crowd parted for a brief moment and there he was. Daniel Treville.
She spotted him almost immediately. He commanded the room with casual ease, drawing attention from every female in the vicinity. Ellie slid back into the crowd and watched him make what was almost certainly polite, charming conversation. He did not seem to have noticed her, though surely he must have or she would not have gotten the sense of being watched.
What was Daniel doing in Paris? Was this mere coincidence? Did Fate have some sick sense of humor? Ellie did not know, and she did not wait to find out. Her heart pounding, she made her way out of the main ballroom and sought some kind of safety in isolation.
A month since she had laid eyes on him, and in one single instant every bit of feeling returned in a heady rush that left her feeling weak at the knees. There were many quiet places to withdraw, thanks to the extensive nature of the embassy. Ellie found herself out on a balcony on the second floor, overlooking the street below. The night air was cool and perfumed with the scent of the city. Alone, she tried her best to take deep breaths and calm herself.
“Make a dignified, discreet exit,” she murmured to herself. “He doesn’t have to know you were ever here.”
“Ellie?”
She stopped breathing as Daniel’s distinctive timbre emanated from the room beyond the balcony doors. Ellie glanced over the edge of the balcony, a brief moment of madness making her think that if she jumped she might perhaps save herself the embarrassment of being confronted by the man she had run from.
It was too late. He had passed through the doorway, his tall frame as elegant and powerful as ever. Their eyes met, his full of warmth, hers brimming with uncertainty.
“Well, my pet,” he drawled. “It’s been a long time.”
“Daniel,” she said, uttering his name as if it were a talisman. “You’re here.”
“We’re both here,” he agreed, letting the shock dissipate a little. “It’s good to see you, Ellie. You’re looking well. Paris suits you.”
He was making polite conversation, as if… as if they were not in the midst of a painful rift, as if he were not the devil who had been her downfall. She could barely believe that he was actually there, not until he reached out and placed his hand over hers on the balcony railing, the warmth and strength of his flesh making him real.
She snatched her hand away and held it close to her chest. “Don’t make idle chitchat with me, Daniel,” she said in icy tones. “You cost me everything. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I was invited.”
Her eyes narrowed further, two furious cat-like slits. “Then I’m leaving.”
He caught her by the arm, arresting her progress before she could storm out of his life yet again. “You can’t avoid me forever, Ellie, we have to talk about this,” he said patiently.
“We don’t have anything to talk about,” she said as she glared up at him, once again caught in his physical spell. “You used me sexually, played all sorts of sick games with me, and finally humiliated me out of my job. You’re a sick asshole, Daniel Treville. Now let me go or I’ll scream this embassy down!”
“Whoa, wait,” Daniel replied, putting his hands up and taking a step back to give her some space. “I did not humiliate you out of your job. I told you not to give that presentation. You didn’t listen.”
She gave him a sulky, borderline petulant look. “You knew I wouldn’t.”
Daniel rested against the railing, his expression wry. “What should I have done, Ellie? Tied you up and forbidden you to speak?”
“Why not? That has your M.O. all over it.”
“First of all, I did not expect you to explode at the board,” he said evenly. “That was quite uncharacteristic for you. Second, you would have hated me if I had physically stopped you from giving that presentation. Maybe I should have tied your little butt up until you saw sense, but dammit, Ellie, this isn’t an arrangement where I kidnap you and completely remove all choice.”
She stared at him and the moment stretched into silence. A slow look of incredulity passed over his face and he let out a short, not entirely amused laugh.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“No!”
“Maybe not what you want, but what you need.” He shook his head. “I should have known, as hard as you fought me… you always had that look in your eyes.”
“I did not!”
“You’ve got it now,” he said, his voice lowering to a predatory purr. “Every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie, Ellie. You’re lying to me and you’re lying to yourself. And you know what, my pet? I didn’t come this far to listen to those lies. You’re still as much mine now as you were when you left, aren’t you?”
She wanted to throw the word ‘no’ at him like a missile, but she couldn’t. A month’s worth of grief and loneliness was coming crashing down on her. As much as she told herself that she hated him, she was so relieved to see him she could have cried. The whole time she’d been in Paris she’d thought of
nothing but Daniel, first hating him, then missing him so much it hurt, then hating him again. Now he was standing in front of her, wanting her, loving her. How could she tell him no when every single fiber of her being was screaming yes?
As it turned out, she did not need to make that decision. Daniel made it for her.
“Alright,” he said, his voice a guttural growl of desire. “You want me to just take control, then that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Daniel!” She squealed his name as he took her by the hand. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you back.”
She half expected to be hauled from the party entirely, but Daniel did not head for the front door. He headed for the wide staircase, drawing her up between bemused diplomatic types all the way to the third floor, which he seemed to know his way around well enough to lead her four doors down and then take the hall to the left and open the door on the right—which led to a richly appointed bedroom decorated in high French style. Fleur-de-lis ranged the walls, and the bed itself was covered in light blue satin dotted with delicate lace petals that would have made Marie Antoinette weep with joy.
“You’ve been here before,” she said, accusingly as he released her and shut the door.
“To Paris? Yes.”
“No, here, to the consulate. To this room.”
“I haven’t actually,” he said, pulling her close. “But I did ask for a private room to be made available for us.”
“You knew I’d be here? How?”
“Who do you think sent you the invitation, pet?” He chuckled as his hand slid to the back of her neck, found the zipper of her dress, and slid it down in one long motion, freeing her body from the silver sheath and leaving her in nothing but lingerie.