Title: Secretary
Rating: M
Genre: AU/All Human
Pairing(s): Bonnie/Elijah, mentions of past Elijah/Hayley, Vicki/Jeremy, Matt/Rebekah, Stefan/Elena, ect.
Trope/Prompt: Boss/Employee Relationship
Summary: Bonnie Bennett, a young woman with a history of severe emotional problems, finds work as a secretary for a rigid and demanding attorney, Elijah Mikaelson. Bonnie soon realizes she's turned on by Elijah's stern demeanor, and begins a sadomasochistic relationship with him. (Inspired by the movie Secretary)
Warnings: Sexual Content, Dark Fic, Explicit Sexual Content, Spanking, Dub-con, OOC-behaviors, Mentions of Suicide, Self-Harm, etc.
A gift for carnival-ofsouls!
A/N: So this was a prompt given to me when I asked for tropes on Tumblr. This fic is inspired by the movie Secretary. If you haven't seen it, WATCH IT! That being said please pay attention to the warnings here! There are going to be some BDSM elements. Also this will be at least three parts, maybe more! Please excuse the errors, no time to edit here! Happy reading
Part One|| Control
Bonnie Bennett's life had been bred from chaos, for as long as she could remember. Her mother had left her at a young age. Her father was a traveling pharmaceutical salesman and had rarely been around. That left Bonnie to look after her grandmother and make sure the woman maintained her sobriety. Most of her high school nights had been spent holding back her grandmother's hair while she puked in the toilet. There were stints of sobriety here and there but by the time that Sheila Bennett had kicked the habit entirely, Bonnie was already an adult and the damage and had long since been done.
Still in spite of her lapses, her grams had always been her support system. More so than her friends. Her friends ignored her problems in favor of their own, and while they came to her for their solutions, if they ever saw signs that something was amiss with her, they kept them to themselves. Bonnie got into the habit of taking on everyone else's problems and they became another weight along with her own.
Bonnie took care of others and ignored her own issues. Internalized all of her pain. Her loneliness. Her insecurities. Internalized them until they had to come out. Had to breech the surface. That was when the cutting started.
If she kept the cuts to her thighs, it was easy to hide the scars. Always in places that people would look. A slash across her stomach. On the inside of her thigh. Scars that healed over where no one would notice. Never the wrist. Not until the day of the incident.
Bonnie kept her razors in a sewing kit box along with cotton swabs, small bandages and tiny bottle of iodine she stole from her father's pharmaceutical kit. It had been easy to cut when she needed it and then clean it up afterwards. Ducking into bathrooms kept her out of sight when necessary and the sewing kit case looked inconsequential enough that no one ever looked inside it or questioned why it was in her purse.
It had gotten her through high school. Through college. Through every drunken rant her grandmother gave. Through every time a neighbor advised Bonnie to have her grandmother initialized. Through every time her father ignored her whether or not he was home. Through the strained silences that plagued her home life when he was home. Through the absence of her mother and the void she left behind. Through each time she had bite her tongue. Through her friends on without her. Through fading into the background and holding onto all of the words she didn't say. It had gotten her through everything. It had been the one thing that she could control. Until the day of the incident.
The thing of it was, the entire day had been an anomaly. First of all, her father had actually been home. Secondly, her father and her grandmother had been home at the same time. While Sheila Bennett and Rudy Hopkins inhabited different houses, that day they had all been having dinner together for Bonnie's sake. Her grandmother had gotten drunk, the only unsurprising part of the evening.
Though, in all honesty, he fight that happened between her father and her grandmother hadn't been entirely unexpected. They often fought when they were together, which was why ordinarily Bonnie strived to keep them apart. Sheila blamed Rudy for her daughter leaving. Rudy blamed Sheila. Bonnie had always blamed herself but her grandmother and her father were always too busy fighting to notice.
The fight that night had escalated quickly. Bonnie hadn't been able to break them up and so she busied herself with doing the dishes. The yelling grew louder and louder, until her dad had threatened to put her grams away. Bonnie had snapped.
There was fear and anger and frustration and a number of emotions that she had never been able to ignore. She'd wanted to go to her room but she had left her sewing kit case in her room and her grandmother's house and since her dad was home, she had come home too.
She'd needed a release. She looked for something readily available and as she had been in the kitchen at the time, a knife was the obvious choice. Bonnie had been cutting herself for so long she had always been able to judge when to stop and how deep. She still wasn't sure how she slipped and cut so deep. She didn't really remember much about the night except the dishwater turning read with blood and her grams screaming as her father raced to get his pharmacy kit and told her to call an ambulance.
As it turned out. Bonnie was put away long before her grandmother had been. She hadn't minded being in the mental health center, truth be told. It was in North Carolina and so she got to see her mother more than she ever had since Abby Bennett Wilson had left Mystic Falls and gotten her new family. More important than that, the center was a controlled environment.
There was structure, and simplicity. She knew what was expected of her and unlike at home, nothing ever deviated from that. Breakfast at eight. Group sessions at ten. Lunch at twelve. Classes at two. Therapy at four. Visitation between the hours of five and six. Dinner by seven. Asleep by ten. For the first time in her life Bonnie had true stability. Stability that, once she was released, was ripped away from her.
There was a welcome home party. It was held at Mystic Grill. All her friends were there. Elena and Stefan being the perfect couple. Caroline and Tyler doing the same. Everyone handling her with kid gloves. Her father hovering over her in a way that was unsettling all the more due to his absence before. "Do you need anything? Anything at all?" Whispered into her ear most times than she could count.
Her grandmother not so surreptitiously hiding the knife that they used to cut the cake that had said "Welcome Home, Bonnie!" in big red letters, after they had cut enough squares for the attendees.
Vicki Donovan was the only one who acted normal around Bonnie aside from Matt, who treated her the same but made sure he shied away from talking about anything relating to the incident within Bonnie's earshot.
"You happy to be home?" Vicki had asked as she sipped carbonated water and rolled her eyes at Caroline and Tyler making out leaning against pool table.
It was a weighted question. "I don't know," Bonnie answered on a shrug, as she picked at the white cake her dad had placed in front of her. She hadn't had the heart tell him that she preferred chocolate. It was a nice gestured. Good intentions and all of that.
"I know what you mean," Vicki mumbled, downing the rest of the water with an expression of distaste.
Vicki did know what she meant. She was damaged in a different way. Had done two stints in rehab. One while they'd still been in high school. She could relate in a way but their triggers were different. When Vicki relapsed she had Matt to catch and her and now she had been clean for a while. Bonnie's wounds were still fresh.
Bonnie wasn't sure that she would ever really be happy about anything in all honesty. She was happy to home in a way. She had missed her grams. Missed her friends. However, she found as she watched her grams eye the bar longingly as she half listened to Carol Lockwood talk about redecorating her husband's study and as her father made his excuses to leave the party early, she missed the center more.
"It is hard to stay out?" Bonnie asked.
It was Vicki's turned to shrug. "Depends on why you went in," Vicki sighed, "Or if you can find a good enough reason not to backslide. Something to occupy your time. Control your environment more you know. The problems you had before don't go away. You just have to find another way to cope or find a way to try and fix them. Matt helps me a lot and Jeremy….Jeremy gets me. I found someone who matches my crazy and is willing to deal with my bullshit. Between that and my job. I deal. Bartending isn't glamorous and it has its own set of temptations but…it works for me. You gotta find what works for you."
Bonnie had nodded before pushing her cake away. She didn't think that she could ever find anything that matched her crazy. Still she felt like Vicki might be a potential friend of sorts. No one would understand her completely but Vicki could relate better than Caroline and Elena could.
Bonnie decided that as she hadn't been able to find a romantic partner in all of her twenty-one years and matching her crazy was an unlikely possibility, that a job search would be a better use of her time. When she mentioned as much to Vicki she had called over Matt and his new girlfriend, whose name Bonnie couldn't remember.
The girl was blonde with a bubbling personality and an attitude that was the exact opposite of Bonnie's calm and polite demeanor. They seemed to balance one another out and when they came to sit with Bonnie and Vicki in a corner booth, the girl didn't look at Bonnie wasn't pity and so Bonnie decided that she liked her right off.
"Bonnie here is looking for a job," Vicki said as Matt and who he introduced as Rebekah settled in.
"Oh really," Rebekah smiled, giving Bonnie a once over, "Well you're in luck. I might know of an opportunity for you."
Bonnie had picked up on Rebekah's accent and the girl and gone into the tale of her family. They had been one of the founding families but had moved overseas generations ago. They'd returned when her father had discovered that he had inherited some properties upon their grandfather's death. While her parents had sold much of the property and left, she and two of her brother, Niklaus, whom she called Nik and everyone else called Klaus, and Elijah, had decided to stay on at one of the properties and settle in town.
While Rebekah described Klaus she had said he was an artist and used words like "flighty" and "temperamental". However, when describing Elijah she had used words like "stern" and "poised". Bonnie, even without knowing them at all, immediately preferred the latter.
Elijah was a lawyer and was opening a private firm in town. "He has a part time paralegal," Rebekah said as she sipped something pink and fruity Matt had handed her from the bar, "But he's in need of someone full time. A secretary. It seems there are slim pickings in this town. He hasn't found one of his liking as of yet. You should apply. Since you're a friend of Matt's I'll put in a good word for you."
Bonnie hadn't had a job since graduating college. Caring for her grams had become a full time job and she had spent majority of her time in college undeclared. She'd never been sure of what she wanted to do. Now that she had her history, she wasn't sure of who would hire her.
However, the idea of being a secretary appealed to her. She was good a taking care of people. She would have a set schedule again. She would have an official title. She would be working for a lawyer. One that was poised and stern. She would have some sense of direction where there was none.
So she replied to Rebekah rather easily, "Thank you. I'll definitely look into it."
"Good," Rebekah nodded, "I for one think you'd be perfect for the job." Bonnie gave the girl the first genuine smile she had managed since leaving the center.
:::
It rained the day of the interview.
Bonnie had been up half the night, a ball of nervous energy. She was twenty-one and it was he first interview for a job that really mattered. She realized much too late that she didn't have much in the realm of business attire. The outfit she decided on would up being a peasant blouse and a long bohemian skirt. She wore her hair down and flats. She doubted that she looked much like anyone that worked in a legal office and she doubted eve more that she would get hired in spite of Rebekah putting in a good word for her.
The rain didn't help. Not only was a hard to drive in but her resume got wet. She only hoped that she would be able to send it to Mr. Mikaelson via email, if he agreed to interview her at all.
The law office was on the far side of town. A small two story white brick building where people could rent office space. According to Rebekah, her brother had rented out the whole building for privacy purposes. He had planned on taking on a number of clients and he didn't want to share the space with other businesses.
There was a sign white sign on the outside that read "Elijah Mikaelson and Associates" underneath a hanging attachments that read, "Secretary Wanted." Bonnie noted that the sign held an odd insignia underneath the name. The letter "M" was in written an fancy script and beneath it was a man being consumed by a dragon.
"Not exactly a welcoming image," Bonnie frowned. She knew that it likely wasn't intended to be. An intimidation tactic. One she was sure that lawyers knew well.
Bonnie vowed to herself that she wouldn't intimidated as knocked on the door. There was no answer. She tried the knob. It was unlocked. Warily, Bonnie walked inside. She was greeted by an open office area, files and boxes strewn everywhere. Everything was done in clean lines and warm colors. Browns. Beiges. Reds. All the furniture looked antique. The desk up front was separated from the waiting are behind it by all wall of stained glass that Bonnie couldn't help but to pause and admire for the beauty of it.
It was a mess. Chaotic. But it had potential. Like her. She felt at home in the space immediately. She called out and found no answer greeted her.
Frowning, she walked hesitantly until she came down to a long narrow hallway lined with mounted lamps and potted plants that sat elevated on the mantle. They were all wilted. Bonnie felt less bad about her own appearance, even though her clothes and her resume were soaked through.
"Hello?" she called out again as she stood at the edge of the hallway. There was a wooden door at the end, cracked open. "Hello?"
She heard movement and then, "In here." A deep voice answered.
Bonnie followed the sound of her voice and tried not to let her nerves get the better of her.
When she reached the wooden door, she waited until she heard the same voice say, "Come in."
Bonnie walked through the door and looked around the room. It was much neater than the rest of the place. Well put together. Pristinely clean. It was done in the same warm colors. Reds. Browns. Beiges. Her eyes roved the room. Two one side there was a closet that was open to reveal it lined with shirts and ties, sorted by color design so far as Bonnie could tell. There was a large by window with long curtains. Tall lamps on either side of a desk. There were two large back antique chairs in front of the long rosewood desk as well as an empty one behind it. .
The name on the desk plate said read, "Elijah Mikaelson" but he was nowhere in sight. She looked towards the other side of the room and her eyes were drawn to an elaborate orchid display. There were orchids of all colors. White. Pink. Purple. Yellow. Mixed ones of different shades.
In front of the display was antique couch with an end table on one side of it and a small book shelf at the other end of the couch. A man stood in front of the large display of orchids. He flipped a switch on the wall and Bonnie watched as lights illuminated the display.
Bonnie walked around the couch as the man checked his watch before pulling down the lever underneath the switch. Water came down in a faint mist showering the orchids and Bonnie couldn't help but reach out and feel the light mist on her finger tips as she grew closer.
"Bonnie Bennett, I presume." The man said as he turned to Bonnie, brown eyes bring into her. There was something distant about his gaze, something detached and yet warm. It was odd. "Elijah Mikaelson. Rebekah told me you were coming in today."
Bonnie studied him more fully as she nodded. He was as well put together and pristine as the room they inhabited. Tailored black suit fitted to perfection. Ice blue tie straight with a gold tie clip. His expression was hard, face firm. Bonnie wondered what she must look like to him in her present state of dishevelment
Taking a deep breath, Bonnie held out her hand for him to shake. His grip was firm, confident. "Hello, Mr. Mikaelson." Her voice came out smaller than she wanted it to.
She felt intimidated by him but not afraid. There was something almost comforting about his stoic demeanor as he took her resume from her hand and glanced it over. He was so calm. Bonnie wondered what it would be like to have that sense of calm.
"Come and sit," he said as he walked over to the antique couch and sat down. It wasn't an offer but an order. Bonnie followed it without much as she sat down across from him. She shivered as their knees brushed together as she moved to face him. His expression didn't change when he asked. "Are you cold?" he asked.
Bonnie nodded. "The rain," she explained.
A bit of a frown as his brows knitted together and then a muttered, "Of course," before he was standing and walking across the room. He walked into the closet and came out with a towel and a button up shirt that was obviously his.
"Dry yourself and put this on," he told her, "I'll be back in a moment."
Another order. Bonnie nodded. "Yes, sir." She said without thinking and then bit her lip to hide her embarrassment. But if this man was going to be her boss, she would have to address him as such, wouldn't she?
Elijah froze in his path to the door. He looked her up and down and Bonnie squirmed under his stare. She tried to dab at the water that had soaked through her clothes. Wiping at the blouse that clung to her chest.
She looked ridiculous. She was certain of it. If not for Rebekah she might've even gotten kicked out upon arrival.
Elijah cleared his throat as she stretched out the wet material clinging to her breast. Bonnie looked up to find him still staring, his hands clenched into fist. He flexed his hands once and then began to twist the ring on his left middle finger. Once. Twice. His face was calm but his gestures suggested otherwise and Bonnie immediately began to think about what she could have possibly done wrong aside from her appearance. She thought about how to rectify it.
"Is there something wrong, Mr. Mikaelson, sir?"
A flinch and then a shake of his head. "No," he cleared his throat, "No. I'll be back in a moment."
Bonnie watched him leave and sighed in relief as he shut the door behind him. She felt a familiar tension coiling in her chest and tried to ignore it as she quickly dried and changed.
When she was done Bonnie folded the towel and her wet shirt and placed them atop the end table. She sat on the couch and waited for Elijah's return.
When he came back he was carrying a mug and a file folder. He came to sit next to her and handed the mug off to her. "Tea. It will warm you. Drink it."
"Thank you, sir," Bonnie said trying to smile. Again he flexed his hands and Bonnie wondered what she was doing that was wrong.
He cleared his throat. "You've attended college?" Elijah asked.
Bonnie nodded, not trusting herself to speak again.
"Are you proficient at typing?"
Another nod.
"Married?" Elijah went on, "Pregnant or plan on getting pregnant in the near future?"
Bonnie blinked. "What does that have to do with-"
"Maternity leave," Elijah explained, "Availability for overnight and late night shifts. Answer the question."
"No," Bonnie answered, "To all those things." She sipped her tea to prevent herself from saying anything more.
"Do you really want to be a secretary, Miss Bennett?" Elijah asked.
"Bonnie," she corrected, "And yes, sir."
He looked down, drumming his fingers against his knee. "You have more education than most of the candidates I've interviewed. Honestly, you're over qualified. You'd be bored."
Bonnie swallowed. "I want to be bored." Boredom was normal. It meant a routine. It meant consistency.
He studied her a moment as if trying to gauge if she was serious. "As Rebekah explained," Elijah continued, "I have a part time paralegal. All I need is a typist that can get to work on time, effectively follow instructions, knows how to file in alphabetical order and can work a coffee machine."
"I can do all of those things," Bonnie said, readily, "Whatever you need, Mr. Mikaelson."
Another clearing of the throat. He looked away from her flipping through the file in his hand. "We only use typewriters here," he said, "I've found them most efficient. With computers employees get distracted by the internet. Social media. No phones except on breaks of course."
Bonnie nodded.
"Do you always dress this way?" Elijah asked.
Bonnie bit her lip and nodded again reluctantly. She held the mug in her hands and waited for his disapproval.
"Your attire is fine for everyday means but this is a place of business and I expect you to dress as such," Elijah eyed her up and down again, "I'll give you the company card. Rebekah has a way with style. She'll have you outfitted. Also the hair needs to stay tied back during business hours. Your curls are beautiful, but could distracting."
"It what way, sir?" Bonnie asked, surprised at the complement.
He stared a moment and then. "They could get into your eyes when you looking down at the keys. Pulled back your hair will be out of the way."
"Yes, sir. Thank you for being willing to have me outfitted with proper business attire. I'm sorry for my appearance today. I wasn't expecting to go on an interview anytime soon."
"No need to apologize, I invest in things, in people," he said, "sometimes it pays off and others it doesn't." He looked across the room and Bonnie followed his gaze to a picture of a slim brunette on his desk. He sighed and then looked back at Bonnie. "Are you sure this is what you want? It's very dull work, Bonnie."
"I like dull work," Bonnie responded.
Elijah placed the file aside and leaned forward. "Are you always this…this…amiable, Miss Bennett?"
"Bonnie," she repeated and then, "Most of the time."
"You seemed to be wound very tightly," he observed as Bonnie sat stiffly under his gaze, "There's a wall there."
"I know." Bonnie agreed.
"Does it ever come down?"
Bonnie stared back at him, meeting his gaze head on and feeling surprisingly comfortable in doing so. "I don't know."
"There's something about you..." A moment passed. A tense moment that felt heavy and was only broken by the ringing of the phone on Elijah's desk.
"I'm not here," Elijah said, gesturing to the phone with his head, "And when you finish your tea, bring me a cup of coffee. Two sugars. No cream."
Bonnie blinked in surprise. She'd gotten the job.
"Miss Bennett," Elijah said, breaking her trance, "Bonnie. The phone."
"Right." Bonnie leapt up, almost spilling tea as she did so. "Yes, sir," and then, "Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Mikaelson."
:::
Bonnie spent the rest of the day cleaning the outer office and organizing what would be her desk. She had a desk. She had a job. She was building her own routine. She had a boss. He was firm but kind. He was handsome and calming to be around. Bonnie shook the thought off and she parked outside of the boutique where Rebekah said that she would meet her.
The blonde was congratulatory of the phone and Bonnie wasn't too surprised as she parked her Prius outside of the shop that the girl was overly excited in her greeting. Still Bonnie was grateful and so she made sure to thank Rebekah for recommending her for the job.
As they shopped Bonnie had to agree with Elijah about Rebekah's sense of style. Bonnie smiled as she tried on designer blouses and pencil skirts.
About an hour into trying on clothes, Rebekah asked, "My brother, what do you think of him?"
Bonnie's first instinct was to think of the most amicable answer but she stopped herself. "He's kind of stiff," she said, "Firm. But seems kind. I like him. Not a bad option for a boss."
Rebekah eyed her speculatively and then, "Most women find him intimidating and standoffish. You're not intimidated by him?"
Bonnie shook her head and then. "Yes I am but I…," she paused, not sure how to put what she felt into words, "It makes me feel calm. Secure. When people around me are in control. I can't always trust myself to be."
Rebekah smiled but her eyes held a glint that Bonnie couldn't quite catch the meaning of. "You'll be perfect for the job then," she said.
Bonnie smiled though she couldn't help but think that there was something Rebekah wasn't saying that she should be paying attention too as well.
:::
As the days passed Bonnie once again found a routine. Up by six thirty. Breakfast with her grams. At work by eight. Get Elijah his coffee. Answering phones and organizing case files. Managing client appointments. Lunch at noon. Logging the day's calls and meetings. Elijah dictating letters to be sent out. Off by six, unless there was an extremely trying case, which meant over time. Dinner with her father. In bed by ten.
Bonnie wore her hair up. She wore pencil skirts and button up designer blouses. She wore heels and panty hose. She lived for little words of approval throughout the day. Because Elijah watched her. He always watched her. Every task he gave her he looked to see the outcome. When she did well, she got a, "Good job." When something was amiss he was silent and grave. She liked it best when she pleased him. When she didn't she felt the tension coil and without the cutting she had no outlet to release it.
The day that nearly broke her was one the day that her routine was broken as well. She'd woken up late. Missed breakfast. When she'd gotten to work, Elijah was already in a meeting.
By the time Bonnie brought him his coffee it was well pass ten. When the client left Elijah had admonished her. "I believe one of the stipulations of your employment was that you be on time."
"Yes, sir," Bonnie said, "It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't," was the only response and Bonnie felt herself deflate.
He continued to look down at the papers on his desk when he next spoke. "I believe I accidentally threw away the copy of the Henderson files," Elijah said, "If you could-"
"Go through the trash and look for them?" Bonnie blurted. He'd likely only been about to ask her to reprint them but she was so focused on making things right. On relieving the tension. On fixing the disapproving look on his face.
He looked up at her and she couldn't read his expression. His eyes had seemed to glaze over and she watched as he twisted his ring on his middle finger. Once. Twice. He did that often in her company. She wasn't sure what to make of that gesture either. "Yes," he said, "If you would, Bonnie."
"Yes, sir." Bonnie said before getting down on her hands and knees in front of the trash can by his desk.
She rolled up her sleeves and bent over before reaching into the trash can. She dug through it until she found the right files. She looked over her shoulder to see him staring.
He spun his ring again as their eyes met, huffed out a long breath. Bonnie swallowed and then she realized that she was bent over, that her skirt had ridden up and even with her pantyhose, he could probably see her scars.
Bonnie shot upright and stood slowly. She walked the files over to him and placed them on his desk. The tension was a living thing now. Clawing under her skin.
Bonnie tried to keep herself together. "Do you need anything else sir?"
"Hold out your hands," he ordered, "Palms up."
Bonnie nodded and she did as she was told. She wasn't sure what to expect. She watched as he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a mini bottle of hand sanitizer. Bonnie frowned as he squirted some in to her hands before massaging it in with his own. As much as she enjoyed his touch and his eyes on her, his kindness made her feel worse. She had been fucking up all day and still he was treating her nicely. Always calm. She felt even worse for how good it made her feel to be near him. The tension grew.
Elijah pulled away abruptly and went back to his paperwork. "Thank you, Bonnie. If anyone comes to see me that isn't scheduled, then I'm not here. That'll be all for now."
"Yes, sir," Bonnie nodded.
She walked back to her desk out front and tried to give the air of calm as the phone rang. It was a telemarketer. She didn't like to hang up on them. They were doing their jobs the same as everyone else. Still she gave them a "no" answer as someone entered the office.
Bonnie looked up from the phone in time to see a brunette woman walk into the office, her face unsmiling. Bonnie recognized the woman immediately from the picture on Elijah's desk.
"Is he in?" the woman asked, not paying any mind to the fact that Bonnie was on the phone.
"One moment please," Bonnie murmured, hand over the mouth piece. Bonnie held up her pointer finger in a gesture to prompt the woman to wait and then waved the phone receiver in indication.
The woman rolled her eyes. "I'm going back."
Bonnie told the telemarketer on the phone that they were happy with their current phone provider before she looked up at the woman. "I said one moment," Bonnie repeated.
The woman glared. "If that isn't a client on the phone then hang up," she said, "No need to be so submissive."
Bonnie flinched and slammed the phone down. The woman smirked. "Are you a client?" Bonnie snapped.
"Tell him Hayley Marshall is here to see him," she said.
Bonnie ignored the woman and checked the calendar. "You're not on the schedule and he's not in right now," Bonnie said, her expression deadpan, "Can I take a message?"
Hayley scowled and Bonnie watched as she knocked over the coat rack on her way out the door. "Tell him to sign the divorce settlement."
As the woman walked out Bonnie took one of the pens from her desk and squeezed it in her hands. She had thrown out her sewing kit case upon getting hired. She regretted it in that moment.
She jumped as Elijah's voice came over the intercom calling her into his office. Bonnie took a deep breath and prepared herself for the worse. She had come in late. She had apparently been rude to who had been Elijah's ex-wife and she was sure she was fired. She was more than sure.
Bonnie walked into the office and shut the door behind her. "Lock it," Elijah said, causing her to jump and Bonnie did.
"Sit down."
Bonnie walked over and sat on one of the chairs behind the desk. She looked down. "I'm sorry if I was rude to-"
"This isn't about Hayley," Elijah said, "You handled her the way she was meant to be handled. She unfortunately isn't as….amicable as you. It's part of the reason that our relationship didn't work out."
Bonnie wanted to feel relieved but she didn't. She still felt strung tight.
"This is about another matter altogether." She watched as he took a red marker out of his top drawer and placed it on his desktop. He took out a piece of paper and held it up in front of Bonnie. "Do you recognize this?"
Bonnie nodded. "The letter that you had me type up to send to Mayor Lockwood, sir," she said.
Bonnie watched apprehensively as he picked up the red marker and took off the lid. He scanned it briefly circling three words on the page and each time he did it felt like a death sentence to Bonnie.
"Three typing errors, one of which is a spelling error," Elijah said, "Do you know what it looks like when my clients get these? It looks like my staff is incompetent. You're not incompetent, are you Bonnie?"
"No, sir."
"Then stop acting like it," again his voice was firm, an order, "If you wish to keep this job we have standards to uphold here. This has happened before. I let it go because you're just starting out. But this cannot happen again. Do you understand?"
Bonnie wanted to cry or scream. She was a fuck up. It was unavoidable it seemed. "I understand, sir," she said.
"Good," he said and then, "Have I upset you?"
Bonnie shook her head. "No, sir."
Elijah's eyes narrowed. "You seem upset," he said and then, "Have you upset you?"
Bonnie blinked a moment and then nodded. Not many people around her could tell the difference.
"Why?" Elijah asked, his face surprisingly open as he waited for her to answer.
Bonnie dug her nails into her palms, hard. "I've disappointed you sir," she answered.
Elijah clenched and unclenched his fist. Twisted his ring in a now familiar gesture. "Bonnie, I know that as your employer, we have a prescribed relationship but I want you to feel free…." Bonnie let out a breath as he paused, "To discuss your problems with me. Can I ask you something without upsetting you further?"
Bonnie nodded, even though she was uncertain. "You can ask me anything you want, sir."
"Why do you cut yourself?"
And there it was. The question she had been dreading. He had seen the scars. Had perhaps even heard the truth from Rebekah. "I don't know," she murmured.
"Is it that sometimes the pain your feel on the inside needs to the surface?" Elijah asked, "Then when you watch the wound heal, it's comforting, isn't it?"
Bonnie stared. "How did you…I mean…I haven't," she defended, "Not as much since I got out of the center." She'd said too much.
"Bonnie," Elijah said, his tone low and gentle, "I'm not judging you. I was well aware of your past when I hired you. That's what background checks are for. Besides that…we all have darker aspects of our nature that the world may not understand."
"You don't," Bonnie said, quickly.
Elijah shook his head. "You'd be surprised," and then, "You said you haven't as much. That isn't good enough for me. But I am telling you it ends now. You're not going back to that. Do I make myself clear? I don't like the idea of you hurting yourself."
Bonnie didn't want to disappoint him further and so she nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good," Elijah smiled, "But I'm aware that just because you stop the unhealthy coping behavior doesn't mean the feelings that trigger it go away. I'd like to help you. If I can. I believe…we can help each other."
"I don't understand."
"Before you….," Elijah asked, "Do you feel out of control?"
"I…," Bonnie hadn't realized that she was so transparent. "Yes, sir."
"Do you want to take control of the things in your life yourself?" Elijah asked, staring her down. "Be honest."
Bonnie looked away again. She wanted it to stop but she knew she couldn't do it alone. Even in knowing him the short time she did, she trusted him. There was something about him that made her feel safe. In spite of his demeanor or maybe because of it. He was beautiful and stern and consistent and she wanted….she wasn't sure what she wanted. "I don't trust myself," she said aloud, "I've tried and I can't…"
"So you want someone else in control," he interrupted. At Bonnie's nod he smiled. His expression was still calm. "I need you trust me. To do what I say. No questions. If something happens that you don't approve of…simply ask me to put my red marker away. Do you understand?"
Bonnie didn't, not really. But Elijah told her not to ask questions and so she said, "Yes, sir."
"What will you say if something happens that you don't want, Bonnie?" he pressed, "I need to be sure that you know."
"I'll ask you to put away your red marker, sir." Bonnie answered.
"Good," Elijah nodded, "Now stand up."
Bonnie stood on shaking legs and watched as the Elijah stood as well and walked around the desk. He moved the chair that Bonnie had occupied aside and stood behind her. He reached over Bonnie until his front was pressed against her back and moved the letter he had marked in to her eye few.
"Bend over the desk so that you're looking directly at the letter," Elijah directed, "Hands on the desk hands desk, palms down. Put your face close to the letter and read it out loud."
Bonnie was still confused but did as instructed. She bent over the desk, palms down and began to read. "Dear Mayor Lockwood...," she read.
As she read she heard movement behind her and that was all the warning she got before Elijah reared back his hand and spanked her on the ass. Hard. At first it was each time she read the errors. Then it came in harder more frequent strokes when she didn't stop him.
She couldn't. Not when the tension inside had finally found a release. The pain making her feel euphoric and dizzy. She kept reading until she couldn't anymore, until all that left her mouth were moans and whimpers.
He stops just as abruptly and Bonnie isn't as surprised as she should be to feel the wetness between her legs. Elijah leans over, front to back, his head falling on her shoulder, breathing hard. His hands placed on the desk next to her hands. Bonnie placed her hand over his, squeezes, shut her eyes and breathed out.
Something seemed to fall into place and she didn't know what it was. Elijah's lips brushed against her shoulder and then her ear as he moved to speak, "Straighten yourself up and type it again."
"Yes, Mr. Mikaelson."
Bonnie straightened herself up, adjusted her clothes and walked out of his office. She walked into the bathroom. Pulled down her skirt. Her panty hose. Her panties. She looked in the mirror and saw the marks on his ass. Bruising red and in the shape of Elijah's hands. Unlike the scars of her cuts, she didn't feel shame as she looked at them. She felt something else entirely.
Bonnie pulled herself together and fixed her clothes. When she felt herself presentable, she returned to her desk and retyped the letter.
When she brought it back to Elijah's office she was disappointed to find that he was on the phone. She placed the letter on his desk and left his office.
It was agony as she waited. Bonnie couldn't focus on the sound of her phone ringing every so often and the pleasant ache in her ass as squirmed in her chair.
When Elijah finally came out of his office and smiled at her, he only said, "Good letter," but she preened under the complement and felt worth of the praise.
He then insisted that she leave work early. "It's been a long day for us both," he stated.
Bonnie nodded. Didn't argue. "Yes, sir," and then, "Thank you, sir."
Elijah nodded. "Make sure you're on time tomorrow. Get yourself some ice cream on the way home."
Bonnie did. It was the best ice cream she had ever tasted. It was insane but everything felt better. She had of course eaten ice cream before, but because he had given her the permission to do this, because had insisted that she do this she felt held by him. She was brimming with excitement all that way home. A strange sort of exhilaration.
That night in bed when Bonnie touched herself, it was Elijah's face she saw. Elijah's voice she heard in her ear. She touched herself in long slow strokes and didn't come until she imagined Elijah granting her the permission to do so.
That was how it started.
End Notes: So there's part one. I know I have to go back and edit. Meh. Hopefully this isn't terrible. Lol. Please give me feedback guys. I know this is different but just let me know what you think. So next chapter will get more of Elijah's POV of the situation and other stuff. Review folks!