by Sasha White
Fees were covered privately with Adam, and she quickly learned why. He charged them on a sliding scale—sort of. There was a reasonable minimum fee everyone paid, but others were encouraged to pay more according to their income. Ronnie agreed to pay an extra ten percent because she could. If she could’ve afforded more, she would’ve paid more. Membership included a locker, beverages, and chocolate.
Apparently, they went through a lot of chocolate.
One of the Doms-in-training was surprised that members could drink alcohol at the club, and commented on it. Eden had been quick to tell them the members were adults and would be treated as such. While club security and Dungeon Monitors kept a close eye out, people were expected to play responsibly.
It all made Ronnie excited and nervous at the same time. Strangely, nothing had happened yet to live up to her sexual fantasies, but she already felt like she was starting to live her dream.
The trainees had paired off to do mock negotiations. The trainers walked among them, listening in, stopping here and there to coach and correct. Since there were seven bottoms and only five Tops in this class, Adam brought in two of the club submissives to help out as well. Ian struggled not to laugh at the look on Mike’s face, the trainee who’d been paired up with Kalina.
The sub was a sweetheart, but a bratty one. Since Mike had been fairly vocal about his “experience” as a Dom, he’d told Kalina not to go easy on him.
“You’re evil,” Eden whispered, as she moved to stand beside him.
“He needs to learn how to listen. Kalina will make sure he does.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Kalina threw her head back and laughed. Loud.
Color flooded Mike’s face, and he stepped forward aggressively. Before he could do anything, Simon had him by the back of the neck, pulling him back from the still-smiling sub.
“And if Kalina won’t make him listen, Simon will.” Eden walked away, an added swing to her hips.
Turning away, Ian walked to where Ronnie was negotiating a scene with Conner. He stood far enough back as to not distract, but close enough to hear.
“I don’t like to be spanked, so the bench is out,” Ronnie told him. “What about the Cross? I’ve never been on one, but have always wanted to try it.”
“So spanking’s a hard limit?” Conner asked. “What else?”
He listened for another minute then interrupted.
“Not bad, guys,” he said, stepping forward to stand next to them. “You’re communicating clearly, which is good. But negotiating doesn’t have to feel like a job interview, or worse yet, like a shopping list of dos and don’ts.”
Conner grimaced and Ronnie chuckled. They looked at each other, neither offended or upset by the critique, and both open to what he was saying. Perfect.
He let out a short whistle and everyone in the closed club turned to him. The shopping list was something lot of the newbies did, and every class needed a demonstration. Looked like he was going to do it for this class.
“We gave you guys a list of things that should be covered in an initial talk, but that doesn’t mean you have to check them off like a to-do list,” he said to the group. “Negotiating can be as erotic as any sexual play when done right.”
He turned to Ronnie. “May I take your hand and lead you to the stage?”
She nodded, wide-eyed.
“Don’t think of your negotiations as something that has to be done before you get to play, think of it as part of the play. Use all your senses to gain and give information. Watch and listen.” When they got to the stage, he turned to face Ronnie and smiled, but didn’t let go of her hand.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand slowly. Her skin wasn’t soft like most women’s, but her hand was so warm, he didn’t want to let go. “Are you playing tonight?”
“I’d like to.”
“How do you feel about bondage with ropes, and a little impact play?”
Desire sparked in her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to be tied up and flogged,” she said.
Ian’s dick swelled to life. “What about blindfolds,” he asked, reaching up with his other hand and brushing his finger down the soft skin of her cheek from eye to lips. “Or gags?”
Her pupils dilated, and her tongue snuck out to swipe at her lips, teasing him, making him want a taste as well. “Um, yeah. I’m okay with those.”
“Do you have any hard limits or medical concerns I should know about?”
She shook her head, eyes still glued to him as she swayed forward a bit.
Fire leapt to life in his veins, and lust unlike any he’d known flooded his system. Christ, he dreamt of a woman with no limits.
He frowned, pulling himself back to reality. This wasn’t for real. It was a demonstration. “No hard limits at all?” he asked sharply.
“Oh!” she gave her head a shake and stepped back from him a bit. “No, I do have some hard limits. No face slapping, ever. No rape play, extreme pain, or humiliation. I’m more into pleasure and sensation than pain. Oh, and if we’re talking gags, then we need a hand signal for a safeword replacement.”
Pride blended with the desire thrumming through his veins as Ian let go of her hand to face the watching students. Her scent was still heating his blood, so he stepped away to be able to concentrate.
“A good way to start things off is stating what you want out of the scene then move on from there. If she had no interest in being flogged, but was into being spanked, it gives her the opening to state what she’s looking for. In a negotiation, there is no Top or bottom. You are equal, and you both need to be sure you’re going to get what you need or what’s the point? Use all your senses when talking. Watch her non-verbal cues, and watch for red flags like no hard limits.” He frowned at her over his shoulder. “Unless you’re in a long-term relationship with someone and know them better than they know themselves, there should never be no limits.”
“Shuffle up and go again,” Simon called from the side of the room. “Don’t think of it as practice. Think of it as foreplay.”
Ian helped Ronnie off the stage and watched her ass swing with her long strides as she joined the group again, thinking about how Simon had been right. She was something special. The question was, what the hell was he going to do about it?
Fucking foreplay, all right.
Ronnie took a deep breath and looked around the room. Ian had blown her focus, totally.
Actually, that wasn’t true. He’d held her focus totally. It had started when he’d asked to hold her hand. Who the hell did that in this day and age? Damned if it didn’t get into her head, though. He’d had her in the palm of his hand right from the start. At first, she’d thought he’d pull away as soon as they got up there. Her hands weren’t exactly soft and feminine with lots of scraped skin, and barked knuckles.
But he hadn’t let go. Instead, he’d stared into her eyes and stroked her. It was like he’d hypnotized her or something. Add in the current dampness of her panties, and it would explain why she’d accidentally said no hard limits. It was her dream to find a dominant man who believed in getting in to her head before her panties, and damned if she hadn’t just found him.
“You okay?”
She gave herself a mental shake and faced Conner again. “I’m fine. I thought we were supposed to shuffle around?”
“We were, but I wanted to check on you, so I shuffled your way,” he said with a wink.
A laugh bubbled out of her, and she nodded. “Thanks.”
“Would you like to sit with me?” Conner gestured to a set of nearby club chairs. “I’d like to discuss doing a scene with you.”
Conner had always been attractive, but something in the last few minutes had given him more confidence. The younger man stood taller and was more in control, somehow. When Ronnie nodded and he stepped back for her to walk first, warmth pooled low in her belly.
He was treating her like a sexy woman, not a tomboy or a mecha
nic. A sexy woman he respected, but still wanted to see naked.
She grinned. Seemed like the problem had never been her, after all.
Ian watched as Ronnie sat down with Conner and they began negotiating again. They really shouldn’t be paired up again, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk over and say anything. Besides, he wasn’t the only one who noticed they were together again. Simon was watching them, too.
In fact, Ian had noticed Simon paying a lot of attention to Ronnie.
Fuck.
Why did he care who was watching her, or who she preferred to train with? It would be different if he was worried about her safety, but he wasn’t. She was in the club, and he wasn’t the only trainer watching over her.
Turning his head, he focused on the pair farthest from Ronnie and Conner, and headed their way.
CHAPTER FOUR
It seemed to Ronnie like no time passed between classes at Overwatch. Life went on, every day like the next at the garage, with the guys talking about women, cars, and racing. Tina was back, and Zane had brought in an old barn find, a ’55 Chevy Shortbox pickup that needed a little work. Since she already had a Shelby she was rebuilding for an older client, Neil got to do the Chevy while Zane kept up with the oil changes and mundane day-to-day drop-ins.
Time passed, and soon she was headed back to Overwatch.
Thursday night, they’d gone over what sensation play was. Ian had started the night off with a talk about impact toys. The man had looked damn good with a flogger in his hand. Something about that toy and the way he’d described being able to use it to tease lightly or tame a bratty sub had really heated her up. Of course, he hadn’t even glanced her way when he’d asked for a volunteer to be spanked with the paddle.
Then there was Simon and his little talk on sensation play. She’d been lucky enough to be called up and used as he gave examples of some of his toys. He might’ve only run the Wartenberg wheel over her bare arm and across her upper back, but it had been enough to get her imagination going big time. She was starting to believe she truly did want to try everything.
One part of the class that made her cringe was Eden’s discussion on pain and torture play. Thank God, she’d only touched briefly on the subject of cock and ball torture before moving on.
It had been during that demonstration that Ronnie noticed Adam watching them. She’d closed her eyes and tilted her head back to mentally distance herself from Eden’s words. When she opened her eyes, she noticed that there was an upper floor to the club. Only four or five feet wide, it ran the perimeter of the room, and Adam was up there, leaning over the rail, looking down on them. She’d wondered why she hadn’t seen him since the first night, and now she knew. He was up there, watching over them.
She’d settled back into her seat, feeling warm and strangely secure.
It had been interesting to learn about all the technical aspects of things, but the best part had been pairing off and trying things with the others. She seemed to end up with Conner as a partner a lot, but she didn’t mind. He was quickly finding his way, and they had good chemistry together. He didn’t make her melt with just a glance, but there was no denying he aroused her when they partnered up.
“Bondage means to be restrained in some way,” Eden said from the stage on the last Tuesday of classes. “It could mean something as simple as cuffing your arms behind your back, or as elaborate as suspending you from the ceiling with ropes. My personal favorite is tape.” She held up something that looked like a roll of super-shiny duct tape. “I can get real creative with this stuff.”
Ronnie wasn’t into women, but a shiver went through her at the look in Eden’s eyes when she said that.
“I need a volunteer.”
Hands shot up everywhere, and Eden called a blonde named Nicole up. Nicole was older, a little plump, and very eager. No one spoke as Eden went to work with the roll of shiny red tape, wrapping it around Nicole’s ribs and breasts. She talked to Nicole as she worked, but Ronnie couldn’t hear what she was saying.
When Eden stepped back, Nicole looked like she was wearing a corset over her tank top. It sucked in her waist and pushed up her breasts, but it was the expression on her face that turned her from pretty to beautiful.
“Sometimes bondage doesn’t even include restraining someone.”
The two ladies stepped off the stage, applause following them. Ian stepped up, and Ronnie's breath caught in her throat. He wore faded blue jeans and a plain white button-up shirt, yet he looked every inch the Dom of her dreams.
He held a pair of leather cuffs in his hands. “Volunteer?”
Hands shot up in the air again, and he called Doug, the lone male submissive in the group, to the stage. Ronnie tried not to let it bother her that he hadn’t even looked her way.
Ian put the cuffs on Doug’s wrists and hooked them together in front of him. Then unhooked them, turned him around, and cuffed them behind, like a cop would. With each position change, Ian described how they could be hooked to any apparatus, or a chain hanging from the ceiling. He pulled another set of cuffs from a duffle bag at one of the stations and put them on Doug’s ankles. The ankles could be cuffed together, or the sub could be bent over and wrists hooked to ankles. Then he pulled out a wide leather strap with a variety of small hoops on it. Ian wrapped it around Doug's chest and proceeded to demonstrate a half-dozen ways the cuffs could be used in conjunction with the strap.
God, the man had an imagination on him that had Ronnie’s pussy swollen and aching at the thought of being stretched wide and bound for use in any way he wanted.
As if he’d read her mind, Ian’s gaze went to her, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, their eyes met. “Doms are creative creatures, and we enjoy testing not only our subs’ limits, but the limits of our own imagination. There really is no end to the ways a good pair of cuffs can be used.”
Emotions swamped her, swirling through her body and soul. Desire, need, and—holy crap—love.
For the first time since she’d walked into Overwatch, Ronnie kept her head down and didn’t volunteer for anything. It was all she could do to make it through the rest of the class without snapping at people to leave her alone. She just wanted to sit in the corner and think, to sort through her emotions and try to make sense of what was happening to her.
When class ended, she moved swiftly towards the door, only to be pulled up short when Ian called her name.
She turned, and struggled to remain calm as he walked toward her.
“You okay?” he asked, concern darkening his clear blue eyes.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“You looked like you were in a rush.”
“Nope,” she said with what she hoped was a careless shrug of her shoulders. “Just didn’t see a reason to hang around.”
He nodded. “Okay. Let’s go have a drink then.”
Huh?
He took her hand and led her up the stairs and out the first set of doors before she had a grip on herself again. “Is that allowed, you being a trainer and all?”
“There’s no rule against it. It’s the first time I’ve done it, but it’s also the first time I’ve known a trainee from outside the club.” He pushed through the last set of doors and turned left. “The coffee shop just up the road is still open.”
“Hey,” she said, stopping dead and tugging her hand from his. “Enough. What’s going on here, Ian?”
He stood stock still in front of her, expression blank. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve pretty much pretended I don’t exist since that little negotiation demonstration last week, and now you want to take me for coffee? What’s up with that?”
He stared at her, silent and inscrutable. When the others started coming out the doors, he raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I’m sorry if it felt like I was ignoring you. I didn’t intend to make you feel that way.”
“Well, you did.”
His mouth tilted up at the corner. “Yeah, so you
just told me.”
The pressure in her chest lessened and she smiled back at him. “Okay. Just so you got the point.”
His smile grew. “We okay?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Let’s go get that coffee.”
They didn’t talk as they walked down the street. Once they got their drinks, they found an empty corner table and sat down. Ian didn’t make her wait.
“So, what do you think so far?”
“To be honest, I'm loving it. It's a lot different than I imagined it would be, but that isn't necessarily bad.”
“What did you imagine?”
“That everyone involved would either be a sexy model in fetish wear or a dark and handsome Dom wearing leather pants and a sleeveless vest. You know, with maybe a whip or a flogger tied to their hip, and always demanding you drop to your knees.” She laughed softly. “Okay, so maybe I exaggerated that a little bit, but you know what I mean? I worried it would be the stereotype of a cross between a porn movie set and a nightclub.”
He laughed. “Well, you’re actually not that far off. When you come to the club when it's open, you’ll see it is a lot like a regular nightclub — except, yes, some people are wearing fetish wear and others are wearing nothing at all. Not everyone will have a perfect body, but everyone’s pretty damn comfortable in their skin, if you get what I mean. You might even see a Dom in leather pants, although I'm not too sure about the sleeveless vests. Many of us do take off our shirts, though, especially when we scene.” He met her gaze head-on. “It can get pretty hot in there.”