Shockwave (Impulse Book 1) Read online

  He nodded then turned and strolled toward the front of the club where his office was located. No doubt he needed time to pull her personnel file and write her up.

  “Damn it.” With her hands shaking and her mouth dry, she hurried into the ladies’ dressing room.

  Two years ago, Alani had joined the staff at Limits. She’d started as a receptionist. Several months later, after she’d proven herself adept at knowing the members’ names, handling issues and being reliable, she’d applied for a position as a submissive. As part of her employment agreement, she was expected to behave with proper decorum, which included never having sex with the club’s clients. For the entire first year she’d worked as a submissive, she’d never known what to expect. That had meant nerves and fear had collided on a daily basis, leaving her on a near-constant adrenaline high.

  It had been a struggle to figure out the exact nuances that would please each client and earn her a big tip. Did they want her to be stoic? To struggle? Maybe to thrash? To remain silent behind a gag? Maybe count out the strokes they laid against her well-rounded ass?

  For Alani, getting the job had fulfilled all the needs she’d had at that time. She craved beatings, lusted after a Dom’s belt, dreamed of his crop, imagined him using a paddle. Without shame, she’d sought out any man who would give her an over-the-knee open-hand spanking. At times, she’d even shoved aside her distaste of the cane, if it had meant getting what she wanted.

  Even though she’d earned a spot on the management team several months ago, the truth was, she was bored. It wasn’t just from the job. It was her entire life. Each night at Limits was routine, rather than something to anticipate. And her bookkeeping work was rote. Her workouts were the same. Everything had become monotonous.

  Over the past few weeks, she’d toyed with the idea of taking some of her accrued vacation time. She was overdue for a trip to Hawaii to see family. But she’d decided she’d rather do that in January to escape the Colorado winter. A couple of days spent hiking in the mountains would give her a new perspective. More and more, the idea of climbing the Maroon Bells near Aspen appealed to her. Barring that, a long drive to Wyoming to see the Tetons and Yellowstone would restore her. Having something on the calendar to look forward to would add a spark.

  Now she wished she had planned it sooner.

  She splashed water on her heated face and tucked a few wayward strands of hair behind her ear, pretending she was composed.

  A woman, a sub if her collar was anything to go by, came in and stood in front of the long vanity. She gripped the edge of the sink and stared into the mirror.

  “Are you all right?” Alani asked. She didn’t have time for hand-holding, but the woman hadn’t even blinked.

  When the blonde didn’t respond, Alani touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?” she repeated. “Can I do anything for you? Do you need a ride home?”

  “No. I…” The woman met Alani’s gaze in the mirror. “I had no idea how much it would fucking hurt.”

  “What happened?” The club had a number of professional monitors who watched every scene and looked out for new guests. If anything had been out of bounds, the sub would have been followed in here.

  The woman blinked back tears. “I’ve wanted to play for a long time, and I’ve been begging my boyfriend to spank me. And since it’s my birthday, he agreed to come here.” She took a breath. “He…he beat me. He sat on a chair and pulled me over his lap. He lifted my skirt, made me call him Master… Then… Then he waled on me… Oh my God, he said he liked it.”

  Alani crossed to the water dispenser and poured the woman a cup. “Here. Drink this.”

  With a brave smile, the woman nodded. She appeared to be around thirty, a couple of years older than Alani. She was tall and thin, and her blonde hair was drenched with highlights. She wore an unzipped leather jacket, a micro-mini skirt and spiky heels. Only in her dreams was Alani that thin and tall.

  A female monitor pushed the door open, her eyebrows arched. Alani waved the woman away before asking the blonde, “Where did he beat you?”

  “My butt.”

  “Did he touch you anywhere else?”

  “That was bad enough!”

  In her mind, Alani heard the inexorable tick of the clock, but she also bore the weight of responsibility. “What’s your name?”

  “Michelle.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s have a look.”

  Michelle gasped.

  “No need to be shy,” Alani said. “I’ve seen plenty of behinds.”

  Michelle took a big gulp from the cup before setting it down and hiking up her skirt. She stood still while Alani looked.

  There were a couple of red marks, and there wasn’t a single handprint. In an hour, maybe less, there’d be nothing there. “You’re fine. I think you’re a bit shocked, more than anything.”

  The woman kept glancing over her shoulder, trying to see her ass.

  “Come here,” Alani said. She drew the blonde into the dressing area and positioned two cheval mirrors. “Now look.”

  Michelle mouth dropped open. “It feels worse than that.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have any bruises.”

  After another disbelieving glance, Michelle tugged her skirt down.

  “You and your boyfriend need to talk. Some couples like spankings but not bondage. Or some women may enjoy being tied up but not blindfolded. But the truth is, BDSM is not for everyone and that’s okay. If you don’t like something, you don’t have to do it. Picking and choosing or rejecting everything is fine. And for you, maybe spankings are a fun fantasy. We all have them. You do know about safe words, right?”

  “Yeah. I say red and he stops.”

  Alani nodded. “And Limits has a safe word, skiing. If you say skiing, a monitor will ensure the scene stops.” That information was in the paperwork Michelle had signed. Her ignorance showed she hadn’t read the document. “At any rate, you need to attend a couple of our meet and greets if you want to come back again. And plan on it for sure if you have any intention of pursuing BDSM as a lifestyle choice. They’re held every Saturday in one of our upstairs meeting rooms at two o’clock. They’re interesting and fun, I promise you. Plenty of discussion. Part munch, part education. And it’s catered by Higher Grounds coffee shop.” With every word, Alani was conscious of the passing of time and the fact she was due in Master Braxton’s office. “A spanking can hurt a lot, especially if he hasn’t warmed you up first. It’s all about talk, negotiation, limits.” If she knew the club’s monitors, the blonde’s boyfriend was receiving a similar talk. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

  The blonde straightened her clothing, and Alani offered a damp towel. The woman blotted her face, finger-combed her hair, then gave a wan smile. “It wasn’t what I expected.”

  “A lot of people find that it’s wonderful and rewarding, but again, patience and communication are necessary.”

  She walked the woman back to the monitor who waited outside the door.

  “Daniel’s talking with her boyfriend about aftercare,” the monitor said.

  “Thanks.” Alani squeezed Michelle’s hand. “Be sure you two have a good discussion, okay? Happy birthday. You’ll be all right.”

  Which was more than she could say for herself.

  Alani looked at her watch. She was close to fifteen minutes late.

  For a moment, she considered changing her clothes before the meeting.

  Since she never knew what to expect at work, she kept a variety of shoes, clothing and props in her locker. She could be a maid, a school girl, a vixen. And she had plenty of vanilla clothes to change into, as well.

  Because she was still on duty, her skirt ended mid-thigh, and she was conscious of the very feminine garter and stockings she wore. If Master Braxton allowed her to sit, bare skin might be revealed. Jeans or dress pants would be better.

  Her shelf bra pushed up her breasts and left her nipples exposed beneath her see-through black blouse. And her heels… She’d wo
rn three-inch stilettos because they showed off her calves, not because they were suitable for being called into the boss’s office.

  But she was already in plenty of trouble. After pulling back her shoulders, she headed toward the front of the club.

  Willow stood behind the reception podium, checking reservations, making sure paperwork was signed, ensuring club rules were understood. And she did it all with a disarming smile. Lovely and competent.

  Willow glanced up from her computer keyboard. “Master Braxton said you were to go straight in.”

  Alani couldn’t read anything in Willow’s expression. “Can you find out what happened with Michelle and her boyfriend?”

  “What do you mean?”

  The couple was new, so that meant someone had sponsored their visit. “I just chatted with her in the locker room. She didn’t seem to know much.”

  Willow glanced at the sign-in book. “I’ll find out and let you know.”

  “Make sure they attend one of the meet and greets.”

  Willow nodded. “Yeah.” Willow gave a half-smile. “Good luck with Master Braxton.”

  That was telling.

  Alani was too well-trained to rush. She moved with confidence and grace past the check-in podium and into an alcove. No one watching her would have any idea that her insides churned.

  Three different doors opened to the alcove. Two led into offices, one for Master Braxton, another for Jaron, the club’s head of security. Master AJ had the biggest office, at the end of a hallway. And she’d never seen the inside. If rumors were believed, his space had dozens of computer screens, rivaling a monitoring room at NASA.

  Several chairs dominated the area, along with a couple of silk ferns and a handful of magazines, mainly about architecture or things to do in Denver. There was nothing kinky about the space.

  She smoothed back her hair, even though she didn’t need to. She’d mostly gotten past playing with her hair when she was nervous, but now, the old habit returned.

  After taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door to her right.

  “Come in!”

  She hesitated only for a moment before turning the knob and entering.

  “Alani.” He moved aside a document and laid his pen on top of the page. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

  He’d phrased it as order, not an invitation.

  After following his instructions, she crossed the hardwood floor toward his desk, uncertain how to behave. She’d been here two years and she’d worked with Master Braxton almost every day. He’d told her during her last review that he was pleased with her performance, but that had been before she’d started faking it.

  Her boss hadn’t invited her to sit, so she stood there, her hands clenched in front of her, struggling not to squirm beneath his direct appraisal.

  He folded his hands behind his neck and leaned back in his leather chair.

  Rules of decorum dictated that she shouldn’t speak first. But this wasn’t a scene. And she was nervous. “Yes, Sir?”

  “You may be seated.”

  Two chairs faced his desk. His framed business degree hung from the wall. A decorator-inspired silver vase holding cattails sat on top of a credenza.

  The space could belong to a banker, lawyer or oil executive in a downtown Denver skyscraper. On her first visit, it had shocked her that this professional-looking office was in a BDSM club in a renovated Lower Downtown warehouse.

  The room radiated energy, as if it had been branded by masculine power. And she was enough of a natural sub to find it intoxicating and arousing.

  Alani sat on the sleek modern chair, the metal cool against her bare skin. She kept her back straight and crossed her legs. With more of that unwanted nervous energy, she tugged on the hem of her skirt in a futile effort not to reveal bare skin. Vexed, she gave up with a sigh and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Finished?” The man missed nothing.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Tell me what’s going on, Alani.”

  “I’m not sure I understand the question.” Stalling was always a good tactic.

  “I told you to meet me in five minutes.” He flicked a glance at the wall clock. “It’s been closer to fifteen.”

  “There was a guest in the dressing room. It was her first visit to the club, and she thought she wanted her boyfriend to spank her. Since it’s her birthday, he gave her what she asked for. She didn’t handle it well. I thought you would want me to stay with her until I could get her calm enough to turn over to a monitor. I apologize for being late, Sir.”

  He nodded. “You did the right thing.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He allowed the time to drag, and each moment made her stomach tighten. Stalling was fine if she did it, not so great if someone else were doing it.

  “Master Nathaniel has been to see me.”

  Surprise. She scowled. Since he’d handled the situation, there’d been no reason to tell on her.

  “Even before he stopped in, I’d been planning to have a discussion with you.”

  She lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you, Sir.”

  “I know Master Richard can be a pompous ass. But you’ve had scenes together before without rolling your eyes and yawning.”

  Master Nathaniel had even seen her roll her eyes? How long had he been spying on her?

  “We’ve had no complaints about your performance from your Doms. But I’ve noticed your lack of attention. Until a few weeks ago, you were our best professional sub.” He leaned forward and dropped his hands to the desk. He looked at her intently. “I’ll ask you again, and I expect an answer. What’s going on, Alani?”

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. Master Braxton’s jaw was set, and his eyebrows were drawn together in apparent frustration. But the lack of anger in his tone told her he was more curious than anything. “I love impact play. And I enjoy the scenes where I’m being punished.” She paused. Being sent to the headmaster’s office on the second floor had been a favorite, along with the naughty maid scenario.

  Silence grew. He gave her an extraordinary amount of time before prompting, “Go on.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Take as long as you need.”

  Master Braxton was correct. At one time she’d been able to pretend she had knocked over a lamp with her duster or that she’d cheated on a math test. But now? “I should say, I used to enjoy those scenes.”

  “What happened?”

  “There’s not a particular instance. It’s been festering.” Alani wanted something more. Something real. “I’m having difficulty with the fantasies.” In her lap, she twisted her fingers together. “But all of my transgressions have been fake.”

  “Before tonight.”

  She thought for a moment he might be teasing. But his eyes contained a lethal amount of power and he wasn’t smiling.

  While Master Braxton wasn’t as tall as his two partners, he was broader, a testimony to his construction background and hours in the gym. His blond hair had been permanently streaked by the sun.

  She’d participated in a few demonstrations with him on one of the club’s stages and she’d enjoyed every scene. He wielded a wicked crop, and his open-handed slaps to her butt had taken her breath away. But he made it clear to everyone that he was devoted to Karyn, his sub. Although he taught an occasional class, he wasn’t available for anything more.

  Realizing she was fidgeting, Alani unlaced her fingers. “I want it to be more serious than it is.”

  “Do you want to work here?”

  “What?” She jerked and stared at him, wide-eyed. “Yes. Of course. Wait. Am I being fired?” Her breath threatened to choke her. “For one infraction?”

  He held up a hand to stop her. “At this time, no.” When he continued, his voice contained a note of compassion. It was one of the things that made him great. “Maybe you should consider some time away. Limits employs the best, the most dedicated.”

  She winced. A
t one time, that had been her. The criticism stung.

  “I want to make a couple of things clear. I want you here. If you opt to stay, you’ll be retrained. An abbreviated version.”

  Despite her best intentions, her shoulders slumped. Except for participating in scenes with one of the club’s trainers, she’d hated the entire process. For weeks, someone had followed her around, making sure her behavior was perfect. Even though the club was low-protocol, each of her actions and all of her words had been studied, written down, reported to management. Before her promotion had been made official, Master Braxton had called a two-hour meeting with her to ensure his expectations were clear.

  “And until your retraining is complete, you’ll be employed as a regular employee, not a manager.” He leaned forward. “You’re a valuable resource to us, Alani, and not just as a sub. Your financial acuity and the way you interact with other employees is a bonus. If you opt to leave us, your gifts will be missed by all of us. If you complete your fourteen-day retraining with satisfactory marks, you’ll be added to the management team again.”

  More than anything, she loved being on the management team. During the day, she worked from home as a bookkeeper. Limits was a big part of her social life. She appreciated that her opinions were sought and listened to. She loved brainstorming and participating in strategic planning.

  “The thing is, Alani”—he leaned forward—“this isn’t about the club or our clients. In the right mindset, you would have been able to get into a scene.”

  The words scored a direct hit.

  “Think about this situation from Master Richard’s point of view. He requested you. No one else would do. He likes you and trusts you. Because of his position in the media, he’s not comfortable having a BDSM relationship made public, so he comes here. We respect his privacy. We give him a safe place to escape the pressures of being on camera. He pays his membership fee and he’s a generous tipper.” He raised his eyebrows, as if in question.

  She nodded and shifted. Master Braxton was right. She was making this all about herself.

  “You’re behaving as a customer, not as a committed member of the management team with our clients’ best interests at heart. And you’re not behaving like a submissive. I have a club to run. And you have a job to do.”