After a minute the Ironmaster raised the cage, pulling her off the terrible drill dildo, and examined her dripping, red lipped sex mouth: probing and pinching it and testing the fluidity of her discharge.
‘You are highly responsive and you oil yourself well,’ he observed, assessing her body as if it was a mechanism. ‘That’s necessary when a woman has a screw turning inside her. Like any machine you need to be well lubricated…’ He flicked the hard nub of her clitoris, making Jane groan and roll up her eyes in despairing delight. ‘Your dispenser button is very receptive to feedback. Good. It extends your working life and increases your efficiency. Let’s see how far… ‘
He lowered the cage and impaled her for the second time and instead of fighting it she wriggled her bottom about and clenched hold of the terrible but wonderful thing. This would be it, she knew. She was going to cum. Why not? It would be shameful in front of him but at least it would blot out all her cares for a few blissful seconds…
The Ironmaster raised the cage again, leaving her sheath clenching about nothing.
He let hang there before him cooling off and moaning feebly and coming down from that terrible yet wonderful promise of delight. Then he lowered her again and let the drill dildo could do its worst. Again she felt the passion rising and her loins bubbling… she was going to cum… yes… yes…
The Ironmaster lifted her off the dildo again.
No!
She had never imagined denial could be such a torment. The power he had over her was terrible. Hating herself she choked out: ‘No… please… Sir I beg you… let me cum!’
‘You will cum when I permit it and not before,’ he told her.
He lowered her onto the dildo again so that her pussy squeezed pitifully onto it. And then he lifted her off it again so that the revolving pulsating screw dildo was wrenched out of the dripping suction of her hot desperate sheath. Up and down and up and down she went until she was a trembling wreck, moaning and sobbing and hardly able to think straight. Then she sank down one last time…
And found that the drill dildo had been retracted and the Ironmaster was lying on the bench with his cock jutting up in its place. The cage lowered her down onto his shaft and she squeezed onto him with pathetic gratitude. He reached up and caught hold of the cage bars as it hung over him and twisted it left and right, screwing her down onto him until she felt his seed spurt up into her. And only then, desperately and helplessly, did she cum and cum…
***
The next thing Jane knew the Ironmaster was no longer inside her but was standing in front of her while she sagged limply in the terrible cage, held upright only by her nipple and collar chains. He had reached in through the bars of her cage and was slapping her cheeks to revive her from her post-orgasmic faint.
Ohh… that had been incredible…
He took hold of her nipple chains and jerked on them hard so that the pain shocked her back into full wakefulness. She peered at him through tear-crusted eyes, feeling her shame rolling back to bury her. What had she done?
He laughed. ‘That’s your strength and your weakness, Brush 01. Like all women you think orgasms can be your escape from suffering because you can come more intensely and more often than men, but as Rowland discovered this also means that you can be mechanically conditioned to serve. When you are confined in devices like this we can deny that release to you until you are driven nearly mad by frustration and orgasms become the thing that you crave more than anything else. You come to associate them with the sight and sound and smell of machines and your part in their function. Even the sweat and the strain and the effort become essential to your pleasure, or if not that then the pain to simulate it. Soon nothing will be as satisfying to you as a hard, even painfully hard, mechanically-induced orgasm and you will beg to serve the machines and the men who are their masters, and our cocks and their pistons will become one within your body and mind. And that is how we are going to break you’re foolish sense of pride and self-respect and yearning for freedom. Give us a week and we shall send you back to Goldsmith a perfect Irontown slave!’
Chapter Ten
The IRES member calling himself “Anvil” also wore a full hood to conceal his features. He was bared to the waist but the rest of him was covered by leather trousers with a codpiece-like flap open over the crotch, exposing his genitals to Jane’s gaze. His penis was swelling as she stared at it
‘I’ve been very eager to get my hands on you, Brush 01,’ he told her. ‘It was very frustrating to have a lovely female like you naked on your bed a few weeks ago and not be able to use you as nature intended. But I’ll make up for that now…’
The day after her recapture by the society, and after the Ironmaster had brought her to her orgasmic brink again and again in his terrible cage, Jane had been crated up once more and transported to Anvil’s house. The journey taken about half an hour but she suspected this had little relationship to the actual distance between the two properties as she was sure the vehicle carrying her had taken a circuitous route with much double backing. They were taking no chances of her ever being able to identify where she had been kept. Finally she had been driven into what must have been a closed yard where she was taken out of her crate and carried through a door and down into another cellar. Here her blindfold was removed and she saw yet another black plastic-lined chamber...
Anvil must have noticed her looking at it because he said: ‘as you can see we’ve all taken the same precautions before having you as our guest, Brush 01. We’re not going to risk you leaving any forensic traces behind which they can link to us later after we’ve returned you to the Mayor…’
They really were going to return her to Adam and Goldsmith when they had their fun with her, Jane reminded herself. It was a necessary part of their plan and practically the only thing sustaining her. But what state she would be in by then she hardly dared think. She could not get the Ironmaster’s promise to turn her into a machine slave out of her thoughts and the device in Anvil’s black plastic chamber only added to her fear of being conditioned. It was terrifying and sinister in its own special way, as it would be to any woman.
It was similar to an adjustable gynaecological examination couch, but one formed out of hinged sheets of iron with arrays of holes drilled through them. And to these had been bolted heavy leather buckled straps and chains with snap hook ends. The base of the couch divided into a pair of sheet iron stirrups on adjustable arms, which were also fitted with straps and chains. Beneath the couch were cogs and drive chains and electric motors and dangling cables…
The sight of it made her stomach knot in terror even as her nipples stood up and her sex lips began to pulse with blood and grow hot and slippery in anticipation. That perverted response to its sadomasochistic threat was the only resort left to her, but was that uniquely female means of defiance now being turned against her? But without it what was left but naked suffering?
Cuffed, hobbled and gagged, Jane could not resist being led across to the device by Anvil and placed upon it. She shivered as her bare skin pressed against the cold iron. Anvil chuckled behind his mask.
‘You’re in for a lot worse than a chill from good solid iron, Brush 01,’ he assured her. ‘But when I’m done with you, you’ll thank me for it…’
He pulled her arms up above her head with her wrists cuffed and crossed and hooked them to the head of the couch. He pulled heavy straps across her chest above and below her breasts and buckled them down firmly. Another strap went over her stomach. He removed the hobble chain from her ankle cuffs and slid her feet into the stirrups, holding them in place with straps bound across her shins and snaphooks clipped to her cuff rings. He pulled a final rubber cord up across her face, removing the ball gag she had travelled with and pushing it between her teeth in its place.
‘This’ll give you something to bite on,’ he told her. ‘But you’ll also be able to speak when I allow it.’
Then Anvil moved to one side of the couch reached beneath it and turned s
‘The machine is always stronger than you, Brush 01,’ Anvil said. ‘Remember that…’
It was going to dislocate her hips… she could not take anymore!
Anvil stopped cranking and Jane sobbed in relief. Her splayed legs seemed to be vibrating as if they were a stretched string. But her ordeal was only just beginning…
Anvil stroked the mound of her gaping pussy lips and the pucker of her anus and then from under the end of the couch he unfolded a hinged bracket supporting a thick rubber grommet in which was mounted a slender metal ball-tipped probe which he pushed up into her anus and deep into her rectum. From the base of the probe trailed a single red electric cable. Next he took out a fat rubber dildo banded with metal rings and studs with a pair of snaphooks on its base from which also trailed a single red plastic electric cable. This cable was threaded through an aperture in the side of a transparent plastic a funnel with a hose running out of its base and down beneath the couch. He slid the dildo up into her vagina and secured it to her labial rings and then pressed the curved rim of the funnel tight up against the mound of her sex.
‘You’re going to be disgracing yourself very shortly, which is a necessary part of your re-education, but I don’t want to have to mop up the mess,’ he explained.
Jane whimpered.
Then he moved round to the side of the couch and pulled out a pair of metal sprung-toothed clamps also trailing single electric cables from their handles. These he clipped to her nipples, letting them bite into her hard throbbing nubs of flesh.
And now she knew why the couch was made of iron: it was to complete the electric circuit between the clips and probes through her body. Snivelling miserably, she bit hard on the rubber cord between her teeth. How could he be so cruel to her? But she would not beg for mercy. Anyway, she knew that would be a waste of time…
Anvil stroked her trembling body.
‘I’m going to teach you how pleasure and pain are really the same thing for a slave girl,’ he told her. ‘I’ll break your will and make you humiliate yourself and then at the height of your agony you’ll climax because it’s all that is left for you to do. But after a few repetitions you begin to associate the pleasure with the pain of the shocks and soon they’ll be enough to bring you to orgasm. And so you will take another step on your path to a state of total obedience to the power of iron and electricity…’
There was some kind of control unit mounted behind the head of the couch that Jane could not see. Anvil worked it for a moment. Jane heard a humming sound beneath her and then…
Hot cold burning electric needles seemed to stab through her nipples and she screamed and jerked her chest against the restraining straps making her breasts heave and she bit on her gag cord as she screamed about it while her eyes filled with tears of pain.
The probe in her anus came to life and it seemed to grow electric quills which lanced up into her bottom and she clenched her buttocks about it as they went into spasm and she bucked her hips upwards against her thigh and belly straps and screamed again…
And then the dildo in her vagina crackled into life and stabbed and burned and hammered away inside her and her thighs strained in a futile attempt to close about it and squeeze it out of her and she screamed and screamed…
Hot pee erupted from her tormented pussy into the cup of the funnel where it gurgled away down underneath the bench, along with a shameful surge of her lubricating juices.
For half a minute the terrible shocks seared through her, making her body twitch and thrash in wild convulsions and making the leather straps creak and the couch hinges squeak. Then it stopped abruptly. For a few seconds she lay on the metal couch twitching and jerking and shivering and feeling dizzy with helpless relief.
And then it began all over again…
***
After a dozen cycles of electric pain and brief intervals of trembling, miserable rest, Jane lost track of them and almost everything else. Her world had shrunk to this plastic room and the unyielding iron couch under her, her aching thighs and buttocks and her burning, simmering nipples and pussy and the electric pain stabbing through her and Anvil’s masked face floating above her. Fleetingly she was aware of his stiff cock as it rubbed against her trembling breasts and spurted its hot seed across her chest as he masturbated over her pain wracked body. She was trapped in a nightmare moment unable to escape even into her own thoughts…
She emptied her bladder several times from the pain until only dribbles of urine dripped out of it into the funnel. It had been replaced as her primary discharge by her pre-orgasmic juices, which helplessly and perversely stimulated by the shocks had lathered themselves about the vaginal probe, flowing freely from her clenching pussy lips. Some of it escaped the rim of the funnel and trickled out of her distended labial valley into her buttock cleft and about the base of the rectal probe.
Jane no longer cared that it made it seem as if the terrible torture she was suffering actually pleased her. It was her only means of escape, of blotting out the pain. But the intensity and timing of electric shock cycles seemed to have been chosen to make this impossible so that she could never quite achieved orgasm. And this denial only added to her suffering. If she could not cum then she wanted to give up, to pass out, but that was denied to her as well.
Eventually frustration and cuming became all she could think of. It was the only promise of pleasure open to her and her only escape from the pain of the terrible couch. She had cum!
But if she did then it seemed only to prove that she could be made to love pain and humiliation and mastery as the Ironmaster had predicted. But what did that matter now? She had to do something for herself! She needed just a few seconds to ride the pain and to make it her own…
And so when the next cycle started she squeezed on the dildo stuffed inside her pussy even before it began to shock her and imagined it was a living thing pumping inside her and she need only drench it in her juices to achieve perfect pleasure. It was not an enemy but a friend… it was a pleasure giver… she could do this…
And then it seemed that her loins burst and their discharge was ignited by the electric fire in her pussy and it erupted from her and it sucked everything out of her and then there was only blackness beyond…
***
Anvil was slapping her cheeks, bringing her back to awareness.
Her whole body ached and tingled and trembled and her nipples were still clamped and the probe and dildo were still lodged in her rectum and vagina, but they were no longer stabbing her with electric needles. Her tingling naked pussy lips were sticky with her discharge orgasmic juices.
She’d done it…
‘Now I’m going to ask you a question, Brush,’ Anvil said urgently. ‘If I take the dildo and probe out of you, what should be inserted in their place?’
And of course there is only one answer to that. With her words slurring about the gag cord in her mouth, Jane said: ‘Your cock please, Sir… I want your cock up inside me… please… up my pussy or my bottom… whichever pleases you Sir… I want you to screw me… please…’
Anvil moved to stand between her painfully spread legs and pulled the dildo and probe out of her and rammed his hard cock up into her aching vagina. After the terrible dildo a living fleshy cock seemed almost gentle despite the pumping power within it. Instinctively she clenched her sheath tight about it…
He must have been highly aroused already because it only took him a minute to come. Then he sprawled across her strap-bound body using it as his fleshy pillow. And after the agony she had already endured this also seemed almost pleasant. She could endure being used like this for a long time…
When Anvil at last recovered his potency he pulled his soiled shaft out of her vagina and thrust it up into her tingling anus. For a moment it twitched and then clenched in a reflex spasm against his attempted penetration.
He glared at her across her straps and sweaty body. ‘Do you want me to give your nipples another zapping, Brush?’
A shudder of dread coursed through her. ‘No Sir…’ she choked.
Her anus relaxed submissively and he slid up into her.
His cock felt so much nicer than the probe, yet when it began to pump inside her rectum it reminded her of a piston in its shaft…
***
IRES member “Hammer’s” black-plastic lined torture chamber might have been situated in some outhouse rather than a cellar, as far as Jane could tell while being carried to it, but otherwise its purpose was identical to those Jane had endured already. In the same way his executioner style hood was similar to the others, although he seemed to prefer a black shirt and black jeans to nudity or leather to cover his slender body. But his chosen training device intended to help turn her into a perfect Irontown slave was the most bizarre she had encountered yet, and she actually gaped at it in surprise before fear and despair gripped her once more.
A rectangular tubular metal frame a little larger than a doorway stood in the middle of a low base made out of riveted metal sheet. It had hooks and chains bolted to its corners and also hanging from its cross bar, and there was a control panel mounted halfway down one side post. It was set between a pair of life-sized pressed sheet metal figures which were open at the back, making them look a little like huge jelly moulds. The figures stood upright and faced each other and were supported by rear brackets which ran through slots cut in the base of the device which passed through the open middle of the tubular metal frame. The figures were sculpted to look like muscular men with eyeholes cut in their impassive faces and slots in the groins through which large metal phalluses complete with heavy ball sacks jutted, which were sculpted to look like the real thing. The heads of the penises with their foreskins rolled back even had tiny slots in them.
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