Chapter 22: Clubbing

“You are invited,” the embossed, gold-edged card decreed in large black letters, “to a celebration of kink. The new Kink Collection of leatherwear, rubberwear, and restraints will be shown alongside party, play and dance at the Viaduct Club.”

Allison turned the card over. It had the date and time and the words, “Dress Code: Tops – Leather / Rubber / Uniform / Fetish / Vintage. Bottoms – whatever the Top decrees.” Allison smiled. That was only as it ought to be, of course.

Clipped to the front of the invitation was one of June Calloway’s business cards with a handwritten note, “Hope you and Lionel can join me. Bring your friend with the contract and its subject too, if you wish. June.”

Allison was in two minds about the invitation. On the one hand it sounded like it would be fun. She’d looked at some of the fetish club sites when working on the contract for Cerys and the events had certainly looked like folk were enjoying themselves. On the other hand she wasn’t sure how she felt about being seen in public (well, sort of public) in the new role she had taken on.

Then of course there was the question of how Lionel would react and the small fact that she hadn’t mentioned Lionel to Cerys.

A few days later Allison and Cerys met at Gordon’s house.

“This is pretty impressive,” Allison said.

“You made a big impression on Gordon,” Cerys said. “He’s been particularly attentive since you two last met. He was really keen that I invite you over. I shouldn’t indulge him but this is pretty great and I wanted you to see it.”

The house was on the edge of London. A 1930’s style building, built by someone that had been wealthy in the inter-war years. White, with low railings stretching beside balconies that ran the length of the building, it looked as if an ocean liner dropped into the London suburbs.

The two girls were standing in Gordon’s “playroom”. It had originally been a gym and still had the parquet wood floor and wall bars that had been installed when the house was first built. There was even a traditional, leather covered vaulting horse in the middle of the room. At one end of the room was a range of wooden racks. Originally intended for Indian clubs, weights and other training equipment they now held an assortment of instruments of restraint, discipline and other forms of discomfort.

Gordon was kneeling, head bowed and wearing a leather hood, in the middle of the room.

Cerys was dressed in tight cream jodhpurs, a high necked blouse and check tweed waistcoat; an outfit that fitted in with her surroundings. “Let me just settle Gordon and we’ll have cocktails.”

“Mmm, sounds fine,” said Allison, watching as Cerys turned her attention to her slave.

“Over the horse,” Cerys ordered and Gordon, who had been kneeling silently, leapt to obey. It took only a few moments for Cerys to secure Gordon bent, face down, across the vaulting horse.

While Gordon was being strapped in place, Allison was aware of the way that he kept stealing furtive glances at her, casting his eyes down quickly again in the hope that Cerys wouldn’t notice. Amused by his behaviour she gave him a disdainful look as if to say, “You wish!” and smiled at the way he hung his head guiltily in response.

Cerys finished with Gordon by unfastening the belt of his trousers and pulling them down over his hips, baring his buttocks. “I’ll be back to see to that later,” she said and then led Allison out of the room, down a flight of stairs and into the lounge overlooking the garden at the back of the house. A mirror faced cocktail bar held an array of drinks and glasses. Cerys expertly mixed two very dry martinis, to Allison’s approval.

“Will he be alright there?” Allison asked.

“Better than alright. Leaving him for a while seems to get him really horny.”

Allison understood that. Uncertainty and anticipation seemed to play a big part in Lionel’s response too.