Chapter 27: Party Outing

It was the evening of the Kink Collection party.

Cerys was bleary eyed and coughing. Her nose was streaming from a particularly unpleasant cold. “It’s no good,” she said, “I’m in no condition to go to this thing tonight.

“You sound awful,” Allison responded, sympathetically. She had come to meet up with her friend on the way to the Kink Collection event but Cerys was obviously not well. “I quite understand.”

“I think the only way I could do it would be wearing a gas mask with a block of menthol inhaler in the air filter.”

“Or with Gordon kneeling beside you with a box of tissues on hand...”

Cerys started to laugh but was cut off by a fit of coughing. “Ouch. No that’s the last thing I feel like worrying about at the moment. Look, I was supposed to be meeting him there. Would you mind taking him under your wing?”

“I think he might be a bit wary of me after our last meeting,” Allison said with a grin.

“That’s all right – cough – he’ll put up with it if I tell him to.”

“I mean, it’s all right, you and him? After what he did?”

“Yes. Let’s say he’s had a rethink of some of his attitudes.

“Well, in that case, yes, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thanks. I do still worry about him misbehaving, even if I have got this,” Cerys fingered the key that hung on a chain around her neck. Allison knew it was the key to Gordon’s chastity cage. “I’ll text him.”

“How has he been since last week?”

Cerys laughed and coughed at the same time. “Attentive, apologetic, contrite.”

“And sore arsed?”

“And sore arsed. A regular programme of pegging and spanking does seem to be keeping his mind on what’s important in our relationship, but he is easily diverted.”

Allison smiled, “Well don’t worry I’ll make sure he behaves. June Calloway will be sorry not to meet you though.”

“Maybe we can fix something another time. I really couldn’t face it now though.” Another sneeze testified to Cerys’ sorry condition.

“I’ll let you rest,” Allison said leaving her friend and heading down to catch a taxi. A few minutes later she was stepping out of the cab in front of the Viaduct Club, surprised at how relaxed she felt.

The club was under a long series of railway arches that supported one of London’s many commuter lines. What, Allison wondered, would the trains full of office workers that passed overhead every morning and evening think if they knew what was going on beneath their trains? Then she realised that only a few weeks ago she would have been in the same position as them.

It was dark and raining. Reflections of orange street lights shone on the glistening cobbles of the street in front of the club. Allison caught sight of a reflection of herself in a glass door as she stepped towards the club. As her coat flew open the light picked out highlights on the rubber of her dress. The reflection in the glass looked like a cross between a still from a film-noir movie and a Helmut Newton fashion shot. She felt impossibly glamorous and delighted in it.

Inside, a security man at the door checked her invitation with less attention than her outfit. He directed her to the cloak room where a man in the uniform of a 1950’s hat check girl complete with pill box hat, short flared skirt and fishnet tights offered to take her coat. She exchanged it for a numbered tag.

Back in the lobby, the security guard spoke to her. “Miss, your guests are waiting for you through there,” he said pointing towards one of a number of doors leading off the lobby.

Allison paused for a moment. This would be the first time that Lionel and Gordon had met and, it occurred to Allison, neither had an idea of the existence of the other. That wasn’t really a problem, she felt, but she hadn’t the faintest idea what she was going to do with them. She hoped she would think of something as the evening moved forward.

As she opened the door she was pleased to see that Lionel had followed her directions. She’s told him of the party at their last meeting. “I have the chance to show you off soon, so you’d better get your act in order,” Allison had told him in the middle of a spanking for insufficient attention to her feet during the evening. Another whack on Lionel’s arse cut off the questioning squeak from behind the gag she had buckled on him. “We’re going to a party. I’ve been asked to bring a slave and it might as well be you.”