Chapter 15: At the Regina

It had been an odd day. Catherine pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt she had been squinting at a computer screen for far too long. A drink in relaxing surroundings sounded an attractive idea. The Regina Club beckoned. She thought she would change out of the jeans and sweater she had been wearing all day – the club deserved something a bit more stylish. Eventually she decided against one of her elegant qipaos, opting instead for a pair of black leggings and a short emerald green silk top with a qipao-style neck and short cap sleeves.

She flagged a taxi and headed for Battersea. The roads were busy and it seemed to take forever working across town towards the river. They were stuck in traffic in Victoria, not far from the station. Catherine tutted as the meter ticked up. She looked out from the cab. There on the battered brick wall of an old pub were a couple of peeling posters; saying “Resist, Reject, Reverse” and some bright yellow, spray-painted, letters “ECR”. The posters and graffiti had been mentioned on the previous morning office zoom meeting. Aileen had asked for any ideas that the team had on their meaning. They were obviously something to do with some dissident activity but it wasn’t clear what. Catherine hadn’t had any ideas yet.

The Regina Club was based in a building in the shadow of the old Battersea Power Station; one of the great industrial monuments of the city, now the site of expensive homes. Catherine looked up at it as she got out of the taxi. She wouldn’t mind living there, she thought.

Inside the club she exchanged pleasantries with the bar’s hostess. Natalie was in again. Catherine’s customary Bloody Mary appeared. “Do you want company?” Natalie asked offering a menu card.

Catherine thought for a moment. “Do you have the boy in that I took last time? He had a leopard head tattoo on his back.”

“I know the one you mean. Give me a minute, I’ll check the pens. Hooded, cuffed, gagged and chastity fitted?”

“That would be excellent. Thank you.”

One floor down, in a large room that stretched under the bar, Sam Danubo was sitting in one of the thirty cages that were arranged in three rows along one wall. There were five others down here and three more were up in the bar already. He did an eight hour shift at the club most days. He wasn’t formally sponsored but the fact that he had a steady job here mean there was someone he could call if he fell foul of the MCF. He’d been in the cage for an hour already. There wasn’t room to stretch out or stand up. He was getting stiff, and not in a good way.

He heard a voice behind him. “OK, Danubo you’ve got work.”

Natalie, the hostess from the bar upstairs, was already unfastening the padlock to the cage door as he turned around. Sam was glad to be getting out of the cage for two reasons. It would give him a chance to stretch but mainly every time he was asked to serve a client his salary had a boost. Given the tax situation for unsponsored men he needed as much work as he could get.

“Fully fitted,” Natalie said pointing to the racks of restraint equipment at the front of the room. Sam was used to the jargon. He knew what was needed in addition to the locked chastity device that he wore all the time he was on duty. He fitted a hood over his head, closed shackles around his wrists and ankle and pushed the smallest ball gag he thought he would get away with into his mouth.

“There’s a good boy,” Natalie praised as she checked the straps and padlocks. “Well,” she managed to jerk the strap on his gag a notch tighter, “quite a good boy. Let’s go and see the nice lady. She’s asked for you special. Must have made an impact last time.”

Sam recognised Catherine as Natalie led him by the leash from his cock cage across the club room.