‘Oh, fabulous!’ gushed Trixietots. ‘Have you read The Story of O?’
‘Can’t say I have.’
All three of them looked at me as if I had admitted to an act of sacrilege.
‘Well,’ she continued, dauntless in the face of my terrible kink-ignorance. ‘It’s based on the Roissy training school for submissives, you know? So all the subs will be in these beautiful dresses that open up at strategic places, if you know what I mean, and all the men will be in gorgeous suits. There’s another room where it’s all reversed with the dommes in suits and strap-ons and the male subs in a different version of the clothing … I wonder what they’ll be wearing though?’
Mal answered her question. ‘A lawn shirt, I believe, and a kind of stocking affair that leaves the, ah, areas in question exposed.’
‘Ah, right,’ said Trixietots. ‘And, of course, there’ll be lots of gay and bi couples and groups who can mix between the two, depending what they want to watch or get involved with. Basically, it’s a free-for-all.’
‘When you say free-for-all,’ I said after a beat, ‘do you mean that anyone can … do anything … to anyone?’
‘Oh, no,’ said Mal, diving in to rescue the situation. ‘We respect exclusive couples and groups. Those submissives who are “available”, so to speak, will wear an outward token. By far the majority will be owned and collared submissives, in the exclusive service of their masters and mistresses. There will be more of your kind than Trixietots’.’
I looked at Trixietots, wondering how she could be so confident and happy about being available to all. It didn’t seem to faze her one little bit.
‘How long have you been doing this for?’ I asked her.
‘Kink?’ she asked, as if she didn’t understand my question. ‘Oh, for ever. Since I left school.’
‘Trixietots is one of our House Submissives,’ said Mal. ‘She works here.’
‘What does that entail?’
‘Lucy.’ Joss’s tone carried a hint of warning. ‘Sorry,’ he said to Mal and Trixie. ‘’Satiable curiosity, just like the Elephant’s Child.’
‘And we all know what happened to him,’ said Mal severely.
Yes. I seemed to remember there being a lot of spanking in that story too. I flushed and hid my face behind my teacup.
‘I don’t mind talking about it,’ said Trixie. ‘I love my work.’
But her kind offer was aborted by the arrival of an unmanacled O, who glided across the wood laminate like an elegant cat before stopping and holding out a hand to me.
‘Lucy. You need a costume, I believe.’
I ground my teeth a little to be parted from my exclusive interview opportunity, but I made a mental note to engage Trixie in conversation later and stood.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Joss.
‘Of course,’ said O. ‘Your approval is necessary.’
His approval was necessary. I considered this all the way downstairs to a basement room, Joss behind me, O in front of me. I felt strange and tense, like a prisoner being escorted to her doom. A sense of having had my power and agency taken from me was strongly to the fore of my consciousness. From now on, I had to do as Joss told me. His approval was necessary.
The basement room was huge and lined with clothes rails. Boxes and boxes of God knows what were stacked high, to the ceiling. O switched on the single bare bulb and pulled out a full-length mirror on castors before leading me over to one of the racks.
‘What size are you?’ she asked, looking me up and down.
Joss sat on a wooden chair in the corner and took out his mobile phone. I had the horrible feeling he was going to take photographs.
‘Oh,’ I said, distracted. ‘Er, ten.’
‘Let’s see … have you worn a corset before?’
‘Never.’
‘Oh, goodness, Lord Lethbridge, you ought to corset her, you know. Not that it’s my place to advise you, of course. Please tell my master if I have spoken out of turn and he will deal with the matter.’