Page 102 of Santa's Baby
“Yeah.Oh, shit, and now we’re bothinthe shit. Both me and Reuben. Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant. No wonder he told me to go. I should have already been legging it out of there as fast as my fat ass would carry me. You know how brutal the founders can be. They might throw him to the wolves as well as me.”
I well up again as Ella nods.
Ella does indeed know what the founders are like. When a douche of a lettings agent she was going to be renting an apartment through found out she was a whore and tried to dig around her references to make anenquiry, the founders tore him down in a flash. He was instantly removed from his job and cast out of the city, never to be seen here again.
The founders don’t take prisoners.
I don’t tell Josh and Ella that one of the guys was from Westminster. It would freak me out more as well as them, but it’s so bloody obvious now. I bet there are others amongst the group that are high profile. The kind of high profile that demands a hood and anat all costslevel of anonymity.
I’m such a stupid dumbass.
I wonder what’s happening with Reuben. He looked so fucking petrified himself.
“They’ve cancelled you, then?” Josh asks, and his words hit me like a hammer in the ribcage.
I’ve been so caught up in losing Reuben, that I haven’t even thought about that. I dash for the bag I dumped in Josh’shallway and scrabble for my phone. I’m back on the sofa when I try to call up the app, but it doesn’t show for me. Incognito mode or not, it doesn’t appear.
Josh calls up the app on his phone and I try my login details, but no.Profile not recognised.
The spread of panic races like wildfire through every cell of my body. I’m shaking. Quaking. Terrified. Ella searches for my profile page when she’s logged in on her version, but there is no sign of it, and all my forum posts have disappeared.
I’ve been kicked out of the Agency.
I have no profile. No proposals. No income. No Creamgirl.
And no Reuben.
Oh, fuck, how I scream. I scream and rock and lose my fucking mind, back like I was in the wreckage of the Kian aftermath. All alone, with nothing left.
My mind races through the four years of my career – so many accolades, and bonuses and regulars. So many reviews. So many clients who meant more to me than I ever figured, now that they’ve been taken away.
User 706 – abusing me in his cow farm, with my grazed knees dragging through cow dung as he pulled me along by my hair.Daddy– User 762 – spanking me after finding naughty notes in my schoolbook and scrubbing me clean in the bathtub. One of Ella’s favourites.
User 6978 – making me drink a whole stream of his piss without spilling a drop and rewarding me with an orgasm every time I managed it. User 1029 and his boyfriend – and some of the hottest DVP I’ve ever known.
Rough play, daddy play, watersports, roleplay, group sex, stretching, groping, chasing… even fucking radiator kinks and my kitty daddy.
All of it gone.
It hurts so much I have to race to Josh’s bathroom and throw up my carrot cake from earlier, and then I lie on the floor in the fetal position. My soul is screaming for everything that’s been lost.
But mainly it’s screaming for Reuben.
He’ll never be able to see me again. No fucking way.
They’ll never let him. They’ll cast me out of the city, and out of his life, and away from anything that could ever risk their identity.
“Calm down, Tiff,” Josh says as he and Ella join me, but I can’t. I don’t want to move or think or feel. All I can do is try to breathe.
“Maybe I can do something to help?” Ella says. “Drop a message to Orla, or…”
Her voice trails off. She knows as well as I do it’s pointless.
“Keep out of it,” I tell her. “It’ll only cause shit for you, too.”
That’s the last thing I want – to drag them into this muddy cesspit with me.
I hate myself.