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Victorian Bondage Show

(Victorian Values #2)

by Sapphire Rush


Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Sapphire Rush

A luta continua!


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Being a reprint from the reminiscences of the Honourable Bertram U. T. Thomas


The only noise to be heard in the reading room of the Rollins Club that afternoon was the gentle rustle of newspapers and books having their pages turned. It had been raining all morning, but fortunately abated before it came time for me to take my own walk from my rooms in Clibbins Street to the club premises. A club like any other, to the outside observer; and, indeed, there were plenty of club members who either weren’t interested in or weren’t aware of the Club’s more unique elements.

I tutted to myself while flicking through the letters to the editor of the Times; the usual collection of drolleries, fulminating outrage, cheerful ignorance and lugubrious banality that is common to every letters page of every publication in the English language. One day, perhaps a correspondent to the editor will hit upon some marvellous new, useful insight. Some elegant solution to a constitutional crisis, perhaps. Or some fair and equitable method for determining the winner of a cricket-match that is interrupted by rain. Or a mechanical process for fitting pigs with wings. However, I shan’t hold my breath waiting for it.

I turned to the sports section and amused myself in the latest scandal to rock the horse-racing world. Show me an honest man who involves himself in any way with horse racing, and I shall show you a damned liar. Of course, I am far from an honest man, and I make no secret that I do enjoy a trip to the races with a full wallet. There’s a gift to ensuring that one also leaves in the same condition; and though every man (including myself) secretly fancies himself an expert, I at least can distinguish between secret fancies, and harsh realities. Which, I expect, is why I was naturally drawn to the Rollins Club when I arrived in London. It just seemed to suit me. The members certainly agreed, else I should not have been granted admittance, much less the knowledge to decode the information that Salvey, the steward, was about to impart.

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