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Chapter One
Hudson
There really wasn’t anything like the sound of spanking in the middle of the night.
It was Hive’s Saturday night Spanko extravaganza and Hudson gave himself a minute off from bustling around to breathe and survey his domain.
When he and his buddies had started talking about this place in college, before it even had a name, it’d felt like a dream that would never come true. And now here they were. A clean and safe fetish club where people could come to have fun and take classes and just be themselves. It was so fucking awesome.
He peeked in the room they’d set up for the littles and there were about a dozen little boys and girls sitting rapt while Ian read them a story. Goddamn adorable. Sable, with her snow leopard stuffie Tundra clutched to her chest and a paci tucked in her mouth, noticed him watching and waved. He waved back but then gestured for her to pay attention and stepped away so he wouldn’t distract anyone else.
Spanko night was one of Hudson's faves. Not just because he loved the sounds and the feel of spanking people—although he fucking did—but it was always a lively and friendly crowd. And itwascrowded.
There were a lot of their regular members here along with some guests. They’d bring in some money from tonight and maybe even some new members.
In the meantime, he’d walk around and enjoy the atmosphere since he was on dungeon monitor duty for the next couple of hours and wouldn’t be playing while he was a DM. He could, however, enjoy the show of bared bottoms and the sounds of palms and canes and paddles and all other manner of things coming in contact with those backsides, as well as the reactions of the people getting spanked. The gasps, the squeals, the moans—so great.
Ryker, in his standard black jeans and tight black tee with his military-issue boots, was caning a woman who was bound over one of their spanking benches. Her ass was already flaming red and Hudson could see the welts rising while she cried and wailed. Yep, Ryker was a sadistic bastard. But he had a loyal following of bottoms and subs who adored him. As much as he allowed them to at any rate, which wasn’t much.
In the next playspace, Hudson passed Gideon who had Plum over his lap getting a thorough and harsh hand-spanking while she squirmed and whined and swore. The priest was threatening his bratty little girl with getting her mouth soaped for not watching her language. Hudson almost choked on a laugh when Plum retorted, “Just you try it, you sanctimonious motherfucker.”
Well, that’d be fun to see later.
Hudson had just about finished his circuit when he noticed a small figure kneeling by the restroom doors. It wasn’t unusual to see people kneeling at their tops’ feet, or with their noses pressed into corners, or far more uncomfortable positions, honestly. It should’ve been easy to walk right by, but…
He recognized the woman. He recognized her because she was a guest and Ryker had given him a heads up about her and the man accompanying her. Had said he’d want to keep a special eye on them. Partly because they were new—DMs always gave newbies a closer look than the people who frequented the club—but also because the woman hadn’t spoken a word, hadn’t even looked Ryker in the eyes. Which was sometimes the case with people who were into high protocol shit, but her hair was also unevenly cut, she had fingerprint bruises on her throat, and she just looked…not right.
Ryker had freely conceded he might be reading in something that wasn’t there, but what was the harm in keeping a closer watch on a new couple? Nothing. To be expected, really.
The woman’s head was bowed but he could see that her gaze wasn’t on the ground. No, her eyes were riveted on the slice of the littles’ room that was visible through the open door.
It was hard to tell with her face in shadow and because he hadn’t spent any time with her, but if asked Hudson would’ve described her expression as longing.
If he knew the couple and was familiar with their protocols he probably wouldn’t approach her at all. But he didn’t know them, and he wanted her to feel welcome. At least that’s what he told himself. Not that there was some pull he couldn’t quite describe that was drawing him over there.
When he got closer, he studied her more carefully. Hands clasped behind her back, thin in a way that didn’t look slender and powerfully lean or graceful and willowy like some women did but more like she didn’t get enough to eat. Dark choppy hair and smudges under her eyes that made her look almost bruised. The fingerprint bruises on her throat that Ryker had told him about and she seemed tense and miserable.
Maybe she didn’t love playing in public or who the hell knew. But as someone in charge here, he wanted to be sure it was him being paranoid or anything else that was out of his control. Not some dipshit he could lecture or something.
“Excuse me,” he said, trying to make himself appear as non-threatening as possible. Hudson knew he was a big fucking dude and that could be scary to women, period, but he also knew once they talked to him for a minute they’d realize he was a teddybear. A teddybear who liked to spank people, sure, but a teddybear nonetheless.
The woman’s head whipped around as though he’d physically shocked her and he got a glimpse of wide, sunken eyes. Amber? Hazel? Hard to tell in the low light.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and leaned away from him as though she was trying to get out of his way without actually moving, her gaze darting back to the linoleum floor where she was kneeling.
“No need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, you’re not in my way. I just wanted to introduce myself. My name’s Hudson, I’m one of the club owners.”
“You shouldn’t be talking to me.”
Hudson liked to think he was a good top. Part of being a good top meant being attentive, being able to decipher your partners’ body language and tone of voice. Granted he’d known this woman for all of two minutes and maybe she was an exception to the lessons he’d learned, but the way she nearly whispered the words—low and urgent—made her seem legitimately afraid. Not of him, he thought, because although she’d leaned away from him, she hadn’t cowered.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to violate any protocols you have established. I could wait with you until your top comes back and speak with him. Or, I saw you looking at the littles’ room. You could go enjoy story time and I can wait here and let him know where you are.”
The woman shook her head violently.
“No, you can’t. Please don’t. I’m going to be in so much—you should go. Please.”
It struck him again how tense she seemed. And not rude, but abrupt. Most subs, even if they weren’t supposed to speak to people without permission would be allowed to answer direct questions and would’ve responded with something polite and along the lines of “I’m not permitted to speak with other people without my dominant present, but he’ll be back soon and you can speak with him.” Or they’d have a tag clipped to their collar that said they couldn’t speak. Something.
Yeah, this didn’t seem like standard training and protocol. She seemed scared. And that made Hudson want to meet this top of hers even more. Watch how they interacted. If she seemed afraid ofhim.
Hudson didn’t want to leave but he didn’t want to make trouble for her, either. He’d keep an eye on them and intervene if things still seemed out of whack. For now, though, he’d go. He dug a card out of his pocket and tucked it between her fingers behind her back, careful not to touch her—she’d probably jump out of her skin.
“I’ll go but if you need anything, I’m easy to find. Probably about half a foot taller than the next tallest person here. If you need anything, like, ever, that’s my card. I—”
He sighed, frustration flushing out of his lungs. Something wasn’t right and he couldn’t stand not being able to do anything about it. But he also wasn’t in the habit of violating consent and this woman had been pretty clear he didn’t have hers.
“I really mean it,” he reiterated. “Anything, anytime.”
And then, heart feeling like a crumpled soda can, Hudson walked away.
