Authors: Sasha White
Be brave, Ronnie,
she told herself.
Damn it, girl. Get your shit together and go get what you want.
With a deep breath, she pulled the heavy metal door open and strode in. She laughed at herself when she saw the next set of double doors. This time, when she reached for the handle, she didn’t hesitate, and her fingers didn’t tremble.
Here, she found a real person. A good-looking guy in black slacks and a black button-down shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide the hard body beneath the soft clothes stood in front of yet another set of doors.
“Hey,” she said as she walked toward him.
“Hello. Can I help you?” He smiled, but didn’t move from blocking the entrance. Doors through which she could now hear music.
She pulled the email she’d printed earlier from the back pocket of her skinny jeans, unfolded it, and held it out to him. He read it, stepped back, and opened the door for her. “Welcome to Overwatch.”
Okay, that was kinda cool. Also a bit intimidating.
She stopped just inside the club and looked around. More than bit intimidating. She went down the small set of stairs that led her into the centre of the club, breathing deep to slow her racing heart.
She was in.
She spotted a group of women gathered together at the cluster of chairs and couches nearest the small stage at the front of the room. Some of them were staring at her, and her stomach clenched. Great. Her worst nightmare. A clique of mean girls in a place she was sure to feel vulnerable.
Ronnie had never had much luck with girlfriends. She didn’t enjoy drama and angst, and it seemed to her that women thrived on that shit. Except for Scarlet, her best friend since she was sixteen, and her only girlfriend. Scarlet was cool.
Sucking in a deep breath, Ronnie prepared to go over and meet the others.
“Veronica Mack?”
The deep voice startled a rare squeak out of her, and heat rushed to her face as she turned to the shadowed corner at her left. “Yes.”
“I’m Adam, owner of Overwatch.” A man stepped from the shadows. “I’d like to have a word before you join the group.”
Her nerves disappeared as she looked him over. Tall, dark, and dangerous looking, with muscles and tattoos everywhere, the guy looked like one mean-ass brawler. Until she looked into his eyes. They were strangely gentle. “Sure.”
“Come on over to the bar with me. Can I get you a drink? Soda, coffee, juice?”
“Just water, thanks.”
The owner of Overwatch made his way behind the bar, neither of them speaking as he grabbed a glass and filled it with ice and water. Excitement started to tickle her insides. The man was something to see. He moved with such confident grace her belly tightened and her pussy warmed just from watching him. She’d never had an instant reaction to a man like that before, and it calmed her in a way nothing else had. She was in the right place, on the right path.
Adam set the glass of water on the bar, and she perched her butt on the seat in front of him.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“A bit,” she said. “More excited, to be honest.”
“Always be honest, especially in here.” He braced his hands on the bar and leaned forward, causing her heart rate to pick up. “I know it took a lot of courage to fill out the paperwork so fully, and that’s why I think you’re exactly where you need to be. You didn’t hold back, and I admire that.”
Holy shit, the man was intense. As his dark eyes burned into her, Ronnie’s spine snapped straight and her insides quivered.
“Thank you.”
“I’m not the only one, either. Just so you know, you caused a bit of a debate among the trainers.”
“Oh?” Shit, they hadn’t even seen her yet, so what was the problem?
“They all want to work with someone so open and honest about their needs, so be prepared. They’re gonna do their best to hook you.”
Before she could get over the shock of that statement, he started talking again.
“The training period is three weeks, followed by a three-month probationary membership. For the three weeks of class training, you’re not allowed into the club when it’s open. Classes are Tuesday and Thursday nights, from eight to ten. Will that be a problem for you?”
“Nope.” And if it was, she would damn well deal with it. She’d deal with anything to be in this place. Her instincts were humming, and she got the same feeling as the first time she’d walked into shop class in junior high school. This place was what she’d been waiting for.
“After the classes, you should visit the club when it’s open a few times before you play. Take the time to observe and talk to members. It’s not a rule, as some people have more experience than others already, but after reading your application, it’s what I recommend for you. Understood?”
She nodded.
“Two more things,” he said with a small smile. “One. If you break any of my rules, you’re out. No exceptions.”
He stared at her, and she looked right back, calm in a way she’d never really felt before. She wasn’t worried.
Adam nodded, took a white card from the back pocket of his jeans, and slid it across the bar top to her. “Two. Becoming a member here makes you mine. Not mine as in my sub, but still, mine, and under my care. This is my personal cell number, if you ever have any concerns or issues, I want to know. That means if you have questions, iffy or bad experiences, or even just weird vibes from someone, you come to me. You hear?”
Ronnie was no innocent. She recognized the look in Adam’s eyes and knew on a visceral level that this man was dangerous. Not to her, but to anyone who would dare hurt someone he considered his.
Relief flowed through her. She’d known him less than five minutes, and she trusted him. With this man’s protection, she knew she’d be able to truly explore her darkest fantasies and not feel threatened.
She reached for the card. “Got it.”
Instead of joining the clique of women when Adam was done talking to her, Ronnie eased her way around the club. Her blood heated and her imagination fired up with all sorts of dirty thoughts as she checked out a spanking bench, a flat table, hooks and bolts sticking out of the walls, and chains hanging from the ceiling.
So many ways to be tied up, or down, or over …
A shiver danced down her spine, and she gave herself a shake. She really needed to get a hold of herself.
Then she saw the St. Andrew’s Cross—the thing she dreamt about the most. She’d always thought they were wood, but not this one. This one was steel. Shiny, clean, and sparkling steel that was cool and smooth to her light touch. Bolts at each corner of the cross for ropes to be slid through, or cuffs to be hooked. Being tied to this cross would be the ultimate for her. Hard steel against her skin, spread open and ready to take whatever would please her Dom. She wanted to be tied to it. To be touched and teased, sensually taunted and tantalized, as she opened herself completely to the man she’d chosen to give herself to.
First, he’d touch her lightly, trailing fingertips over her skin, raising goose bumps and shivers of pleasure before stepping back and picking up his favorite toy. Would it be a flogger or a whip? Maybe a riding crop or a cane? Whatever it was, she’d be happy to have him use it on her. It would heat her skin, get her nipples hard and her juices flowing so that when he put down the toy and stalked toward her, she’d—
A sharp whistle rent the air and pulled her abruptly back to the present. She jerked her hand away from the cross and turned to face where Adam stood on the small stage, telling everyone to find a seat. Several men and women joined the half-dozen women already there. She hurried to join them, sinking into a chair near the back of the group.
“I’ve already introduced myself to each and every one of you, and now it’s time for you to meet those who will be running your training sessions. Each of these people has their own areas of expertise, but they also have years of experience in the lifestyle and a wealth of BDSM knowledge. Meet, Eden, Simon, and Ian. Listen to them. Learn from them.”
Ronnie watched as a tall, slim, yet curvy woman with long dark hair spilling over her shoulders stepped onto the stage and faced them with a sincere smile. Behind her was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. The guy had the same dark, dangerous vibe Adam did, but his grin was pure erotic devil. Excitement zipped straight to her nipples at the sight of his muscled forearms and wicked grin. The man was hot!
Then she saw the last man to walk up onto the stage. It took a second for her mind to catch up to what her eyes saw and acknowledge the man her heart had recognized immediately.
Someone she thought long forgotten.
Ian Johnson.
“Tonight will be your first session. Think of it as orientation, followed by a meet and greet,” Eden said, stepping forward and pulling Ronnie out of her shock. The woman was beautiful, and her sultry voice seductive. “Overwatch is a private, members-only club. It’s a safe haven for those who want to explore their desires, including, but not limited to BDSM. That said, everyone in this group is here specifically because of a desire to explore and play in a BDSM environment. During your sessions, you’ll experience various aspects of BDSM, but when you are in the club, know that some members could be voyeurs, exhibitionists, or are perhaps looking to be a third or fourth in some group play. That does not mean anything goes here.”
The darkly handsome Simon stepped forward, taking over where Eden left off. “The beauty of BDSM is that there are very few right and wrong things. Some people enjoy light play, some like it deep and intense. Some are into pain, and others are here purely to serve. Some people like to be tied and teased, some like to be spanked and fucked. And then there’s the other side of the coin. Those of us who like to be in charge, giveing the spanking, the tying and the teasing. Basically, if it feels good, and it hurts no one — unless they like the hurt...” He rubbed his hands together and wiggled his eyebrows, making everyone laugh, breaking the slight tension that had been in the room. “Then it’s generally allowed. Safe, sane, and above all consensual.”
Ian picked up where Simon stopped, moving forward and drawing all eyes to him. “The most important thing of all, no matter what someone is into, is respect. You don’t have to like what they like to respect them. As you may have noticed, Adam is very selective about who gets into this club. All new members, no matter their level of experience, go through an orientation like this. The rules are laid out, and if you don’t follow them, there will be consequences. Not playful BDSM style punishments either, but real-life legal consequences. The paperwork you’ll be signing is legal and binding. We take our members’ privacy, comfort, and safety seriously here.”
Just hearing his voice again caused Ronnie’s nipples to peak, and her breath to catch. He’d always had a deep voice, but it had gained some rasp over the years, and the growl was absolutely delicious.
“Those of you who have played before, or who have knowledge of the lifestyle might notice a few things are different here. First off, we don’t make all the subs or bottoms use the labels Master or Mistress,” Adam said, snapping her attention back to center stage. “Sir, Ma’am, or even M’lady are titles most often used. You might hear a bottom calling a Top Master or Mistress, but if you do, that’s between them. It’s not a must here at Overwatch. As Ian said, what is a must here is respect. It doesn’t matter if you’re a Top or bottom, sub or Dom, voyeur or third in a party of three, everyone gets respect.”
One of the flaws in Ronnie’s fantasy had always been having to call someone Master. She’d never been into it, and hearing that it wasn’t required was a huge relief.
“You might also wonder what the club safe word is,” he said. “We use the stoplight system here. Red means stop; yellow, caution; and green, go. For those doing BDSM, those are the club safewords. In this club, there are also some who do not practice BDSM, so when not in a negotiated scene, it’s simple. No means no. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Some might call what we’re doing play, but it’s not. It’s real, and the consequences—emotional, psychological, and physical—are real. So be real. Role-playing can be exciting, and rough sex can be … intense. Cursing, swearing, screaming, and fighting back — it’s all good. We also understand that within the scene, ‘no’ is not used as a safeword. However, if the bottom or sub calls red, play stops immediately, and the scene is over — as in finished for the evening. The safeword is not to ever be ignored – under any circumstances. If you cannot wrap your head around that then this isn’t the club for you.”
Adam prowled the stage as he spoke, and excitement pooled in Ronnie’s gut. This guy was for real. They were all for real. This club was for real. No more games, no more wannabes. She was in it for real now.
At that thought, Ronnie’s gaze automatically swung back to Ian. He stood tall and confident next to the others, not overshadowed by Adam’s intensity in any way, despite being still and silent. The longer she looked at him, the more things started to fall into place in her mind, and heat crept up her neck.
Ian had been her first crush, the guy who’d caused her first stirrings of desire when she was barely a teenager. It would make sense that her desire for a dominant man stemmed from her adolescent yearnings for him, the good-looking boy next door who’d always been there for her. He hadn’t laughed at her for wanting to play on the all-boys baseball team at school, or for fighting to be able to take shop class instead of home economics. He’d been her first friend when she’d moved out to California, and the first guy to ever kiss her.