In the Zone

by Sierra Cartwright

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

  “My butt.”

  “Anywhere else?”

  “That was bad enough!”

  “Let’s have a look.”

  The blonde gasped.

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

  Blushing furiously, the woman put down her cup and hiked up her skirt. She stood still while Alani looked.

  “You’re fine,” Alani said. “More the shock 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.”

  The woman’s mouth fell open. “It’s hardly red.”

  “You have a couple of marks that will fade fast. You won’t bruise. I think you and your boyfriend need to have a talk. And maybe attend a couple of classes if you want to pursue this lifestyle.” She smiled although she was horribly conscious of the passing of time. “Although it may not be for you.” If she knew the club’s monitors, the blonde’s boyfriend was receiving a similar talk. “A spanking can hurt, especially if he hasn’t warmed you up first.”

  “Damn! Is it always like that?”

  “No.” She wished it were. “Let’s get you fixed up,” she said.

  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.”

  “It rarely is,” Alani said. “But it can be wonderful and rewarding, with patience and communication.”

  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.” To the blonde, Alani said, “You’ll be all right.”

  Which was more than she could say for herself.

  She was more than five 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 and clothing in her locker.

  Because she was still on duty, her skirt ended midthigh, and she was conscious of the very feminine garter and stockings she wore. If Master Marcus 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 worn three-inch stilettos because they made her calves look shapely, not because they were suitable for a meeting with the boss.

  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 desk, checking reservations, making sure paperwork was signed, ensuring club rules were understood. And she did it all with a disarming smile. Lovely and competent.

  “Master Marcus said you were to go straight in,” Willow said, looking up from the computer keyboard.

  Alani couldn’t read anything in Willow’s expression.

  “Good luck.”

  That was telling.

  Alani was too well trained to rush. She moved gracefully and purposefully past the reception desk and into a small alcove. No one watching her would have any idea nerves were churning inside.

  Three different doors opened to the alcove. Two were office doors, one for Master Marcus, another for Master AJ. There was a private restroom for staff.

  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 remotely kinky about the area.

  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 Master Marcus’s door.

  “Come in!”

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

  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, suddenly unsure how to behave. She’d been here two years, and she’d worked with Master Marcus almost every day. He’d told her during her last review that he was pleased with her performance, but that was before she’d started faking it.

  Master Marcus hadn’t invited her to sit, and he hadn’t instructed her to kneel, so she stood there, her hands folded at the small of her back, waiting.

  He didn’t stand, and she struggled not to squirm beneath his direct appraisal. She hadn’t been this uncertain since the day she’d interviewed for the job.

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

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

  “Sit,” he instructed.

  Two chairs faced his desk. His framed business degree hung from the wall. A decorator-inspired silver vase 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 seemed to radiate its own energy, as if it had been branded by masculine power. And she was enough of a natural sub to find it intoxicatingly arousing.

  She sat on the sleek modern chair, the metal cool against her bare skin. She kept her back straight and crossed her legs. She tugged on the hem of her skirt in a futile effort not to reveal bare skin, and then she finally sighed 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, Sir.” Stalling was always a good tactic.

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

  “There was a patron in the dressing room. It was her first visit to the club, and she thought she wanted her boyfriend to spank her until he actually did. 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, she realized.

  “Master Nathaniel has been to see me.”

  There’d been no reason to tell on her. “Even before he came to see me, I’d been planning to have this 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? Just how long had he been watching?

  “We’ve had no complaints about your performance from your doms. But I’ve noticed your lack of attention. Until recently, 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 Marcus’s jaw was set, and his brows were drawn together. Apparently he was angry, but he seemed more curious than anything.

  “I love to be spanked and punished,” she said. “But all of my transgressions have been fake.”

  “
Until now,” he said drily.

  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 Marcus 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.

  More than once she’d wished he weren’t in a permanent, committed relationship. 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 took her breath away. But he made it clear to everyone that he was devoted to Karyn, his sub. He taught an occasional class, but he wasn’t available for anything more.

  He waited until she finally said, “I want it to be more serious than it is. I don’t want to be the chambermaid who didn’t polish the silver correctly or the vanilla girlfriend who flirted with another man at a party.” She played with her hair.

  “If you want to take a leave of absence, I have no objection,” Master Marcus said. “Zones only employs the best, the most dedicated.”

  She winced. That used to be her.

  “I want to make a couple of things clear. You would be welcome to return, with stipulations. You’d go through an abbreviated version of the training process.”

  Despite her best intentions, her shoulders slumped. Except for participating in scenes with one of the club’s trainers, she’d hated the training process. For weeks, someone had followed her around constantly, making sure she followed the club’s decorum.

  “If you choose to return, you’ll start as a regular employee, not a manager.” He took a breath. “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 complete your sixty-day probation successfully, 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. Zones was a big part of her social life. She appreciated that her opinions were sought and listened to. She loved being part of the strategic planning. Knowing the team would be talking about her stung.

  “The thing is, Alani,” he said, his voice gentle and reassuring, “this isn’t about the club or our clients. In the right mindset, you would have been able to get into a scene. A true sub, which I had thought you were, would have focused on pleasing her dom.”

  The words stung.

  “Think about this situation from Master Richard’s point of view. He specifically requested 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 brows, as if in question.

  She nodded and shifted.

  Master Marcus was right. She was making this all about herself.

  “You’re behaving as an employee, not a submissive.”

  “Is it possible to be a sub and want more?”

  “Of course it is,” he said. “Relationships and jobs end in the BDSM world just like they do everywhere else. What’s at issue here is your mindset. You’re not surrendering.”

  She’d screwed up by not talking to Master Marcus. She exhaled. She kept her hands folded in her lap so she didn’t betray her nerves. “What next?”

  “It’s your choice. Time away from here for you to evaluate what you want is good. We can do it as a leave of absence. Or we can do it a more formal way. We can document your behavior, give you a verbal warning. You can take some vacation time if you want, clear your mind, see if it helps.”

  She’d had jobs all the way through high school and college. Never once had she received a reprimand of any sort. All of a sudden, the idea of being away from Zones terrified her. “So those are my only choices?” she asked. “I take a leave of absence and get retrained, or I get a verbal warning?”

  “You’ll be monitored and retrained, either way.”

  She wrung her hands together. Master Marcus had never been this inflexible before.

  There was a knock at the door. Master Marcus called out, “Come in.”

  She resisted the impulse to turn around to see who’d entered.

  “Ah, Master Nathaniel.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed. Bastard. Tattletale. She’d rather have a meeting with the devil.

  “Since Master Nathaniel is home, he’ll be running the club while Karyn and I are on vacation. I invited him to participate in this meeting.”

  The evening had gone from bad to disastrous. She could hardly think. “You’re going on vacation, Sir?”

  “I’m surprising Karyn with a trip to celebrate the two-year anniversary of her collaring. I wasn’t sure it would work out until Master Nathaniel came home.”

  Master Marcus nodded purposefully, indicating she should greet Master Nathaniel.

  Having no other choice, she turned to acknowledge him.

  He regarded her before closing the door. He crossed the room to stand just behind Master Marcus. “Bring me up to speed.”

  She waited for Master Marcus to respond, but then saw both men were waiting on her. She swallowed. “You know what happened during my scene with Master Richard.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Explain it in your words.”

  Master Nathaniel went from nemesis to asshole. “I was having a scene with Master Richard. I wasn’t into it, and you caught me yawning.”

  “And rolling your eyes. Twice.”

  She flushed.

  “The yawn would have been forgivable if you were tired. It’s the combination of behaviors that has me concerned.”

  She wasn’t willing to concede anything to him. “At the moment, I’m deciding between a leave of absence or signing a verbal reprimand,” she said in conclusion, noting the pieces of paper in the middle of the desk.

  “And retraining,” Master Marcus clarified. “Overseen by Master Nathaniel.”

  Even from halfway across the room, the man radiated leashed energy.

  “I want to back up,” Master Nathaniel said. “I want to know why, little sub, you allowed your attention to wander.”

  “Master Marcus and I have already discussed that.”

  He set his jaw.

  Clearly she’d just made another error.

  She remembered the powerful way he’d captured her chin and forced her attention back to the scene. He was tall, intense, commanding. Unaccountably, she was becoming aroused.

  “I’d like a few minutes alone with Alani, if you don’t mind,” Master Nathaniel said.

  Master Marcus turned to look at his partner.

  “Now.”

  “Certainly.”

  What the hell? Alani cleared her throat. “Uhm…”

  Both men ignored her.

  Master Marcus stood.

  Her heart thundered. She didn’t want to be alone with Master Nathaniel. Not for one moment.

  The door closed quietly behind Master Marcus. Suddenly it was just her and this terrifying man.

  She told herself to run, hard, far, and fast. Her traitorous body refused to obey her brain’s command. Part of her wanted this, wanted it with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

  “When I ask a question, Alani, I expect an honest and quick answer. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Now tell me why you were behaving so disrespectfully.”

  Even if she weren’t a sub, even if he wasn’t her boss, she would have responded with that respect. The man commanded it. “It wasn’t so much that I allowed my mind to wander. I was bored with Master Richard. With most clients, honestly. There’s never anything new.” She searched for the words. “It’s mainly acting. It’s not real.”

  Standing next to the desk, he looked at her; his eyes were unreadable.

  “You want real?” he asked. “I
’ll give you real. Get your ass over here and beg me to punish you.”

  Chapter Two

  Nathaniel hooked a thumb in his belt loop and silently regarded her, waiting for her reaction.

  Would she fight him before her inevitable surrender? Or would she capitulate instantly to his authority, dropping her skirt and baring her ass?

  She played with her hair. Was it from nerves or indecision?

  Regardless, it was interesting. He’d thought she was too well trained to behave so thoughtlessly. “You will lean over this desk, Alani, and when you do, I’ll add two stripes for your hesitation.”

  “This isn’t how an employer/employee relationship works.”

  “Is that what you are?” He paused. “An employee? Nothing more?”

  “Nothing more,” she said.

  Apparently aware of what she was doing, she dropped her hand to grip the arms of the chair.

  “So you show up every day to ensure you collect a paycheck at the end of the week? Or are you a sub, Alani, a true, on-your-knees, desperate-to-surrender submissive who craves the touch of a dom?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  She stared at him through impossibly long lashes. In the time he’d been away, he’d forgotten how rich her brown eyes were and how he’d like to drown in their depths. She’d accented her startling features with an artful feathering of kohl on her lids and several dark layers of mascara.

  He had a sudden, cock-stirring urge to see her face streaked with real tears.

  He’d been part of her initial hiring process. Although his partners sent him weekly status reports, keeping him up-to-date with club operations, he didn’t spend a lot of time at Zones, even when he was in Denver.

  He knew Alani had been promoted to the management team and that she offered insightful comments and recommendations. Until tonight, he’d never wanted to play with any of the club’s personnel.

  Things had changed when he’d witnessed Alani with Master Richard.

  First, he was pissed that an employee would behave that way. Second, he wondered if he could make her behave.