Training Sasha (Club Zodiac Book 1)

by Becca Jameson

  “That’s what I’m hoping. I don’t want her to test the waters without one of us keeping an eye on her, and I know you don’t want to watch your sister playing at a kink club.”

  Rowen visibly shuddered. “It’s not even the submission I’m worried about, but you’re right. I don’t want to see any part of her naked.”

  Lincoln smiled. “That’s my point.”

  “Am I being unrealistic? She says I have a double standard. After all, I’m a Dom. You’re a Dom. We enjoy submissive women on a regular basis. Neither of us views them as somehow weaker or less valued. Perhaps I should back off and let my sister make her own decisions.”

  Those thoughts had gone through Lincoln’s mind over and over lately, even before Sasha had made her ultimatum. He’d known her for five years. He could easily believe she was intrigued by the lifestyle. After all, she’d been coming to the club since she was twelve.

  Twelve.

  It still pissed him off that John Gilbert had let an innocent young girl spend her formative years in a fetish club. Granted, he’d calmed down about the subject significantly after every employee assured him Sasha had never been inside the actual club. He’d also relaxed his view when he heard about her mother dying and her brother not wanting to leave her home alone at nights. Rowen should be commended for taking care of her.

  Nevertheless, he wished at least one of the many adults involved in the decision to let her hang around in the breakroom three nights a week had figured out an alternative solution.

  She’d been so young. Influential. How much did she learn about BDSM before most people ever heard the term? He feared she was desensitized at an early age and now wouldn’t be able to form normal relationships with men.

  Lincoln had watched her curiosity grow over the past several years. He’d seen this coming. There was no denying she was titillated by the concept of dominance and submission.

  On more than one occasion when the club wasn’t open, he’d caught her wandering through the main room, touching the edges of the equipment. The time he’d found her running a delicate finger around the inside of a pair of metal cuffs, all the air had sucked out of his lungs.

  There was no denying she had submissive tendencies, but how much of who Sasha believed herself to be was authentic, and how much of it was learned from overexposure?

  “Lincoln?” Rowen yanked him from his thoughts.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re being unrealistic. I think your sister wants to sow some wild oats or something.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk. “You handle things here tonight. Carter will be at the front door. I’ll go to Breeze and see what she’s up to.”

  “And if she decides to do a scene with some stranger? What are you going to do?”

  Lincoln considered that possibility. “I’m going to stick close by and make sure she’s safe. If she wants to try out some apparatus with a knowledgeable Dom, I think it would be prudent to let her get it out of her system. Hopefully she’ll realize it doesn’t suit her and the subject with be closed without her ever knowing we intervened.”

  Rowen cringed. “I don’t think I could stand by and watch her scene with anyone.”

  Lincoln forced a smile that was wider than he felt inside. “That’s why I’m going instead of you.”

  Chapter 3

  Sasha was so totally out of her element. She’d spent the day agonizing about what to wear that night, and now that she stood in the entrance to Breeze, she hoped she hadn’t made a mistake.

  Master Pierson, the owner, greeted her at the door with a warm smile and an outstretched hand. “So nice to see you, Ms. Easton. Welcome to Breeze. I hope you find it as enchanting as your brother’s club. He didn’t send you here to spy on us, did he?” Master Pierson’s eyes danced with humor, tiny wrinkles tipping up at the corners.

  She gasped at his comment and licked her lips. “No… Sir. I mean, my brother doesn’t even know I’m here.” Unless you told him. The entire BDSM community probably knew who she was. She was actually surprised they hadn’t been given instructions to turn her away.

  Did he really think she was a spy? If so, why had he granted her a visitor’s pass?

  Master Pierson tipped his head back and laughed. “I’m kidding. I’m sure if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t want to attend the same fetish club as my brother either.” He took her gently by the arm and led her into an office off the entrance.

  She tried to relax, still fretting over her choice in clothing while she tugged on the bottom of her short, tight, black skirt. She had purchased it and the black corset barely covering her small breasts earlier that afternoon. She rounded out the outfit with strappy, black stilettos she hoped wouldn’t hurt her feet or cause her to trip and fall during the course of the evening.

  Master Pierson pointed at a chair opposite an ornate mahogany desk, and she was grateful to sit before she lost her balance, half from the shoes and half from nerves. “I have a few documents I need you to look over and sign before you can play in my club. Standard stuff you’ve seen before.”

  She hadn’t. Ever. But he didn’t know that.

  He cleared his throat and continued, leaning back in his chair, “Tell me, what brings you here tonight? Do you have a particular interest you’d like to explore? I’d be happy to set you up with one of my trusted Doms if you have a fantasy you’d like to fulfill.”

  Her mouth was dry, and she had to stuff her hands under her thighs to keep from shaking. “Uh… Well, I’m not sure. Mostly I wanted to visit the club and look around, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course. You’re welcome to wander around and watch all you’d like. As long as you don’t disrupt anyone’s scene, you’re free to explore. We have a number of members and guests who like to watch. Some of them do so for months or years, either building up the courage to try something new or simply benefitting from the voyeurism itself. Nothing wrong with either scenario.” He smiled.

  She nodded. It wasn’t as if she had no idea what to expect. She’d wandered through Zodiac many times in the past four years. She’d seen more things than most women would in a lifetime. But she’d never had the opportunity to watch at her leisure. Besides her brother, Lincoln was a stickler for the rules. He frowned at her the entire time she was inside Zodiac.

  Tonight, she could relax and explore without Lincoln breathing down her neck with disapproval. “Thank you. I appreciate your warm welcome.”

  “Well, I’ll let you look over the paperwork and check on you in a few minutes.” He pushed from his chair and silently left the room.

  She sincerely doubted every guest got this kind of reception. But, like he’d indicated, she wasn’t an ordinary visitor.

  Although she’d never signed a contract of any sort to enter a club before, she had researched them online, and she was relieved to find this contract to be nearly identical to everything she’d read.

  It was ridiculous that she’d never seen a contract at her brother’s club, but he’d managed to keep her out of nearly everything pertaining to Zodiac for ten years. And he showed no sign he would ever let up.

  She’d considered going behind his back and speaking directly to Lincoln, but then chickened out. The man hardly tolerated her as it was. No way in hell would he have permitted her to join the club without telling her brother.

  Fifteen minutes later she had everything signed and returned to Master Pierson, and she found herself free to roam the club. It was a relief. Not one person stared at her strangely or shot her a disapproving glance as she followed Master Pierson deeper into the club.

  Granted, it was possible her choice of clothing helped her blend in better than anything she’d ever worn at Zodiac. But she also suspected every employee and half the patrons of Zodiac had been given strict instructions to shun her. Successfully.

  Master Pierson led her directly toward a woman standing to one side of the main room. “Sasha, this is Faith. She’s one of the dungeon monitors tonight. You’ll recogn
ize our monitors by the red bands around their biceps.”

  Faith smiled briefly at Sasha. Her gorgeous blue eyes were mesmerizing, but they held a deep sorrow no one could miss. “Welcome to Breeze,” she stated before her gaze shot back toward the room, scanning.

  Sasha stared at Faith for another moment, wondering what her story was. She was surprised to find such a petite woman working as one of the dungeon monitors. Not that there was any reason why a female couldn’t fill the role, but this tiny blonde was about the same height as Sasha. She couldn’t be more than five four. If anything got out of hand, no way would Faith be able to physically intervene.

  The tell-tale arm band covered a black, fitted, long-sleeved blouse. Faith also wore snug black jeans and black flats. Ordinary clothing, except nothing was ordinary about this woman.

  With a deep breath, Sasha turned her attention back to Master Pierson as he pointed out another dungeon monitor several yards away. “I’ll leave you to it. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to find me or ask one of the monitors.”

  She nodded and then wandered into the main room and took in the various scenes already underway. The room was similar to Zodiac in many respects, which helped calm her nerves. The lighting was dim, the walls, tile, and ceiling all black. It was only ten o’clock so things were just getting started.

  Setting her sights on a couple preparing to use a spanking bench, she decided to head that direction and observe. Harmless enough.

  The woman was about her height, five foot four. She weighed more than Sasha, but she was obviously comfortable in her skin. Sasha had always been self-conscious about her small frame. No matter what she ate, she never seemed to fill out. She glanced down at her chest for the millionth time and tugged on the corset to ensure it still covered her small breasts. She’d been shocked when the woman at the fetish store had helped fit her into the bustier, giving her the first actual cleavage Sasha had ever seen on herself.

  She had to admit the tight lace and satin garment made her feel sexy. Also a first. It gave her confidence.

  Several people were gathered to observe the couple at the spanking bench, and Sasha joined them. The woman calmly removed every stitch of clothing at a nod of her Dom’s head. She didn’t exhibit any signs of self-consciousness, not even covering her breasts with a hand. In fact, she kept her gaze downcast and her legs parted when she finished disrobing.

  Her Dom wore black leather pants and a matching vest that left his chest bare at the top, a sprinkling of hair visible. He was in his mid-forties, she judged, and his serious expression as he slowly circled his submissive made Sasha’s panties wet.

  She stood frozen in her spot while she watched the scene unfold. Mesmerized, and not a little aroused. The woman had long black hair, which her Dom gathered at her back and braided. After tying the ends with a strip of leather, he pointed to the bench.

  They were comfortable with each other, and it was obvious they’d done this before because few words were exchanged between them and those were whispered into the sub’s ear at a volume Sasha couldn’t discern.

  By the time the woman was situated on the bench, her torso resting on about six inches of padding with her elbows and knees on smaller padded sections, Sasha couldn’t blink. Her heart raced as the Dom rounded the woman again and then slowly secured her ankles and wrists to the bench.

  He then turned some sort of crank between the sub’s knees that made Sasha flinch as it creaked and spread the sub’s legs wider.

  Maybe there was some merit to what Master Pierson had said to her earlier. Sasha couldn’t imagine ever finding herself in the position this woman was in, but it was titillating as hell to watch. Her breasts swelled, and she crossed one arm over them to apply pressure to her aching nipples.

  No one seemed to be paying particular attention to her, so she continued to watch the scene, lost in her own world, her arousal growing by the second.

  The Dom reached into a large duffle bag at his feet and pulled out a flogger. It was clearly loved, with thick lengths of supple leather that looked soft enough to tease more than cause any real pain. Part of her was a bit frightened, but her damn clit jumped to attention at the same time.

  No matter how much research she’d done over the years, she had no way of being fully prepared to watch a scene in person. She knew the names of every sort of kink toy available to man. She’d seen porn. She’d even masturbated to it. But watching it unfold up close was another thing. The few times she’d caught a glimpse inside Zodiac while it was open didn’t compare to this experience tonight.

  Shocking her, the Dom trailed a finger slowly down his sub’s spine, through her butt crack, and lower until he swiped it across her sex. The woman bucked her hips the few inches she was able to move, a soft moan escaping her lips.

  Her eyes were closed, and her mouth hung open in bliss. Interesting, because the scene hadn’t even started yet. But Sasha fully understood. She too was about to orgasm just from watching.

  The man trailed his fingertips all over the sub’s body for long minutes as she relaxed her muscles and stopped fighting against the restraints. Finally, he stepped back, lifted the flogger in the air, and let it land on his sub’s butt cheeks.

  She didn’t even flinch. Not surprising since the lengths of leather had barely touched her. In fact, the woman looked even more relaxed as if she’d been waiting for a massage all day and it was finally happening.

  As the Dom set up a rhythm and artfully landed repeated thuds of the flogger against his sub’s butt cheeks and then her shoulder blades, Sasha too was lulled by the rhythmic pattern. Her muscles lost some of their tension. She could watch this sort of scene all day.

  She also thought it would feel nice to be the recipient of a flogging if this is how it always went down.

  She glanced around the room. She was here to witness. She didn’t want to spend too much time on the flogging scene.

  Another corner caught her eye at the sharp yelp of a woman. Sasha lifted her gaze and then stepped away from the flogging to see what made the other sub wince.

  This sub was also a woman. She was skinny and tall. Naked like the first sub. Her breasts were high and small. Her nipples puckered. She wasn’t attached to a particular piece of equipment. Instead, she wore thick leather bands on her arms with eye rings, and they were attached to two lengths of chain that came down from the ceiling.

  She was totally exposed in the center of the space. A blindfold covered her eyes, tied behind her head in a thick knot over short-cropped, blue-tipped hair.

  A man was circling her. He was of average height and build. Bare feet. Jeans that were frayed at the ends. No shirt. His gaze was intense, and gripped in his hand was a crop—long and thin and black with a flat leather end. It sent a chill down Sasha’s spine.

  Another glance at the woman told Sasha she’d already received her first strike—right across her thighs. A red, angry welt had raised. The woman was gasping for breath, her head tipped back, her spine stiff.

  Sasha couldn’t imagine why anyone would do this. The flogging she almost understood. It looked like a soothing massage. Even she wouldn’t mind experiencing it. But this crop? Never.

  She crossed one foot over the other and squeezed her thighs together as she waited.

  The Dom circled, making his sub wait. Anticipation being his goal.

  When the hiss of the leather finally rushed through the air, Sasha flinched, and she gasped when it hit its target. She immediately glanced around to ensure she hadn’t reacted too loudly. No one was looking at her. Thank God.

  The crack of the crop was much louder than the thud of the flogger. The result was much more evident too. Another welt rose, this time across the sub’s butt cheeks.

  Sasha bit her bottom lip, trying to understand the logic and failing. She was here to watch. Learn. Explore. No way in hell would she be attempting anything like this.

  She gritted her teeth as another swoosh of the crop sailed through the air, this time landi
ng across the sub’s shoulder blade. Obviously the goal was to keep the poor woman guessing because the Dom didn’t strike with any sort of pattern, rhyme, or reason.

  It was time to move on.

  Lincoln arrived at Breeze early. He was happy to find out he’d gotten there before Sasha. It made it easy for him to touch base with Pierson and slip into the perfect dark corner to take in the room while he waited.

  Breeze was not much different from Zodiac. This spacious main room was dark with dim lighting. He knew there were smaller rooms for private scenes. Behind him there was also a lounge area for aftercare.

  Had he made the right decision in not permitting Sasha to join Club Zodiac? He was starting to doubt the wisdom of that choice. It would have been easier to keep an eye on her in his own club.

  His home away from home.

  Sure, he’d been young when he bought the club—twenty-five—but what he lacked in age, he made up for in experience. He’d been inside clubs observing and learning since he was seventeen. He’d met his mentor—Master Christopher—that year, and the man had taught him everything he knew over the next several years. Even when Lincoln graduated from high school and joined the army, he still saw his mentor every chance he could when he was on leave.

  Lincoln owed so much to Master Christopher. His love for BDSM. His affinity for sadism. His expertise with nearly every tool. Even his ability to fund the club. Master Christopher had not only taught Lincoln how to be the best sadist in Miami, but he’d also given Lincoln the gift of a sizable chunk of cash to purchase Club Zodiac.

  Lincoln shook the nostalgic thoughts from his mind as he glanced around the room again. Thank God Marcus Pierson was a good man and friend. If he hadn’t permitted Lincoln to follow Sasha around this evening, Lincoln wasn’t sure how he would have managed this situation.

  Suddenly, he spotted her. Damn. He did a triple take to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

  Where the fuck did she get that outfit? He’d never seen her wearing anything that resembled what she had on tonight. She was a preschool teacher for crying out loud. She wore pastel sundresses and crop pants and cute feminine sweaters and blouses. They made her look younger than she was… and pure.