Tired of being treated as “one of the guys”, mechanic Ronnie Lang wants to explore her own sexuality more. She gets wind of Overwatch, a private BDSM club and she applies herself for membership. Behind those closed doors lies a lifestyle she never imagined… and the man she could never forget.
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Unfettered: An Overwatch Story by Sasha White
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.
only to be pulled up short when Ian called her name.
walked toward her.
clear blue eyes.
careless shrug of her shoulders. “Just didn’t see a reason
to hang around.”
out the first set of doors before she had a grip on herself again. “Is that allowed, you being a trainer
“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
He stood stock still in front of her, expression blank. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that 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 titled 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
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
“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 and it's open
you’ll see it is a lot like a regular nightclub — except, yes, some people are wearing fetish wear and
some people 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.”
She fanned herself with her hand at the thought of him with no shirt, paddle in hand, and
her awaiting his ppleasure. “Shit, it’s getting pretty hot in here.”
He laughed and pleasure burst through her. It was nice just sitting with him.
“So, is that what you found on the internet? Men who wore leather pants and demanded you
kneel at all times?”
She sighed. “Yeah. It was real letdown. A lot of puffed up idiots who thought that calling
themselves dominant made them dominant. That somehow that gave them the right to make it all
about them. It was all about blowjobs and booty calls, but not about dominance or submission.
Except for the ones who seemed to think that being the dominant gave them the right to smack you
Something deadly flared in his eyes. “Did somebody smack you around?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you really think I would let somebody smack me around?”
“Damn it. It’s a dangerous fucking world out there, Ronnie. What made you put that ad on
“Look at me,” she said. “I'm a thirty-four year old tomboy who would rather clean an
engine than get my hair done and it shows. Sure, I've had sex, even good sex, but I've never had a
relationship before. I've never been in love, and I thought if internet dating could work for other
people why not me?”
He visibly calmed himself, taking a deep breath before nodding at her. “I get it. It can be
tough to find someone. What made you realize you were submissive?”
She blushed, but remembering how they met up again, she pushed past any nerves at
speaking so freely. “I thought about the men I had been with, and which ones I thought were good
sex, and which were just ... exercise, and realized that the good sex had always been with a guy who
took charge. Those guys who took charge were also the ones I’d wanted to spend more time with if
given the chance. It was like a lightbulb went off in my head, and once I realized that was what did it
for me, I didn’t look back.”
When he nodded, she kept talking. The words just tumbling from her lips without thought.
“I did internet searches, read some blogs and some books. The more I read, the more I wanted
to do and explore. Then I found the adult dating site, and thought it was perfect. Put up a profile
and—bam!—I had men emailing and asking to meet.” She stopped suddenly. Not sure she wanted
to share the rest.
Blue eyes soft with concern, Ian reached across the table, putting both his hands over both
of hers. “It’s okay, Ronnie. Nothing you can say will change the way I see you.”
Relief flowed through her. How had he known exactly what she needed to hear?
“At first I was like a kid in a candy store,” she admitted. “I met with too many men, and tried
too many things. I look back now and think I’m lucky I didn’t get killed. I mean, I’m not an idiot,
and I have good instincts. I never let any of them tie me up, or restrain me in any way, no matter
how much I craved it. But I did let them do things like spank me, or fuck my face.” She shook her
head and laughed softly. “I have to admit to having a bit of an oral fixation.”
He sat back in his chair, and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Oral fixation, huh?”
“Oh, yeah.” She flashed him a naughty smile and leaned forward staring deep into his eyes.
“I came to the realization that I really love sucking cock. There’s just something about being on my
knees in front of a man, serving him that way. The smell, the taste, the feel. Oh, god, the feel of a
hard cock stroking against my tongue as he grips my hair and thrusts deep enough to hit the back of
my throat so hard my eyes start to water and I fight to breathe. I just love it.”
By the time she was done talking, Ian’s eyes blazed with a heat that damn near melted her
“You,” he said in a voice that sent shivers down her spine. “Deserve to be punished for that.”
Her nipples hardened to the brink of pain, and she wiggled in her seat, but she raised her
eyebrows and tried to look innocent. “For what?”
He leaned forward. “For making my cock so hard all I want to do is bend you over and sink
in so deep that I feel your soul surrounding me.”
Her eyes widened and Ian’s heart pounded as they sat there, just looking at each other and
breathing the same air.
She was beautiful. Beautiful in her honesty, in her desire, and in her eagerness. Ian had to
remind himself that they were in a public coffee shop and it would be wrong to reach over the table
and drag her into his arms.
Sucking in a deep breath, he shifted back in his chair again to try and ease the erotic tension
that had flared between them so quickly. Before he could say anything and change the topic, she
straightened up and spoke again.
“That’s exactly what I came to Overwatch looking for,” she said.
She wasn’t making sense. “What?”
“You,” she replied, looking right at him. “You’re not acting, or pretending. You and Simon
and Adam and Conner, you’re all for real. Dominance isn’t something that can be faked, and I
was tired of meeting men who considered it a game. Men who played at it because they saw it as
a way to have sex any way they wanted without really caring about what their partner needed. I
want a real man, one who knows that true dominance is mental before it ever comes close to being
physical. That my submission cannot be demanded—it has to be earned—and when I give it, I give
Fuck. She made total sense.
A loud burst of laughter from the table next to them made her start. Red started creeping up
her chest and neck and Ian gave himself a mental kick in the ass. “Thank you,” he said. “For sharing
so much with me.”
“You’re welcome.” Ronnie smiled. “Now, I should go. It’s almost twelve.”
“Why do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”
She laughed, taking the hand he extended and letting him pull her to her feet.
“No, but it’s past my bedtime, and if I don't get at least six hours of sleep I turn into a
raging bitch the next day. The guys at the shop will not thank you.”
They walked back to the club, and he wasn’t surprised to see that she drove a pumped up
muscle car painted in very pretty purple. It was just like her. Strong, but feminine, and very, very
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