Page 21 of Owned (Office Intrigue Duet 8)
A terrible shout sounded from the other side of the door as he yanked his arm back, clearly in pain.
It gave me the scant few seconds I needed to slam the door shut and flip the lock.
Cursing followed, along with a litany of things he intended to do to me when he got in. None of them pleasant.
I knew the flimsy lock wouldn’t hold long, but I didn’t need but a second. After all, I had planned for this. Ransom had insisted that I did. Hence the reason I had one of the fire escape ladders sitting on the floor just below my bedroom window. I’d actually run through the routine more than once—to the amusement of my neighbors—so I had it down pat.
It took me under thirty seconds—a new record—to get the window up, the ladder rolled down from the second floor. I wasted no time, practically diving out as I raced toward the ground below.
I managed to dash around the side of the building when the shouting and cursing echoed out into the bitterly cold night.
That was when I ran.
*
TALON
If one was ever in the market for a decent party with a flair for debauchery and domination, I would highly suggest one of TJ Arlington’s social functions. The man, whose claim to fame included a series of highly rated fiction books related to romanticized BDSM, didn’t while away his days only having glorified fictional intercourse. No, in his spare time, TJ was tending to the real thing, keeping himself busy with his harem of female playthings, showing them off to any and all who would join him.
Personally, I didn’t see what all the fuss was about, but I couldn’t deny I was a rare breed who’d somehow ended up on the periphery of this fetish-fueled social scene. Unlike TJ, I could do without the drama. It did nothing for me. Yet like most events I was invited to, I’d reluctantly agreed to attend, now mingling with Chicago’s lustful and licentious upper echelon.
As I moved through TJ’s elaborately decorated mansion, which had received an overhaul just for this occasion, sipping ridiculously expensive champagne, I had to admit it wasn’t as horrific as I’d expected. Except for the opulent furnishings and decor, it wasn’t much different than the club scene, in my opinion. A myriad of scantily clad submissives waiting on the guests, males and females who labeled themselves as Dominants sharing stories, catching up on the goings-on outside of the scene, and feasting on food set out on the naked bodies designated to play the role of dishes this evening.
Every so often, I would nod, acknowledging someone I’d encountered at one time or another. Most refused to approach me, having come to learn I had not completely mastered the art of social niceties. I had absolutely no desire to discuss the latest trends in fashion or food, nor did I care to hear about the intimate details of a scene they’d had/would have/hoped to have with one of the willing and eager submissives available for the taking.
Not that I was entirely unsocial. I had a handful of friends whom I would do just about anything for. Several belonging to the fetish club known as Dichotomy, of which I was a member. On occasion, I would venture out to the club to catch up with those I hadn’t seen due to my reclusive nature. In truth, that was the only reason I paid someone else for access to furniture, toys, and equipment I had readily available in my own home.
As for the New Year’s gathering TJ had amassed, I came tonight to check in with a few people and to get a glimpse of whatever new tools of the trade he’d commandeered before they went to market. Although, I got the feeling I was going to be greatly disappointed with his inventory. It appeared tonight’s display revolved around caging the variety of human pets he maintained for his guests’ personal pleasure. And as much as I appreciated someone wanting to keep their human play toy in a kennel, it just wasn’t my thing.
Trading my empty glass of champagne for a fresh one, I ventured toward the stairs leading down to TJ’s prized dungeon. It rivaled that of any club I’d ever been in, more of a glorified stage than anything. Think of Cirque du Soleil, only with naked, writhing bodies strapped down, tied up, and ultimately being used for the pleasure of many. The man had even installed spotlights and some intricate light show set to music to help his guests maneuver their way through.
It might’ve appeared as though I was checking out the males and females on lockdown, but my interest was solely in what bound them. Sure, I admired TJ’s creativity, but I was always looking for new things to spark my own. The submissives were of no interest to me. Although most of them were available for the taking, they would not be able to provide me with what I needed. When it came to playthings, I required mine to be of an entirely different caliber. At the top of my list of requirements: strict obedience and complete silence. Since I had that at home, I would not be partaking of the flesh making itself available to me.
