Irontown 1: Student Maids

by Adriana Arden

  Yet even as the stinging blows fell she was achingly aware of Gouge, Colter and Mattock watching her breasts dance as though it was perfectly normal. Through her tears she saw they were enjoying the spectacle of her pain and degradation, compounding her shame and misery.

  It ended as suddenly as it had begun. The wheels whirred to a stop and her pummelled breasts were allowed to rest naturally once more. Mel hung limply from her clamps, groaning and sobbing, her chest heaving. It felt as if her breasts were on fire while her sore nipples throbbed and pulsated. Her tears dripped onto their upper slopes, adding the sting of their salt to her abused flesh that burned and shimmered with pain. Shockingly she realised her pussy was also feeling hotter and wetter, though not from her tears. How could she be responding like this?

  ‘Why did you leave home, girl?’ Gouge repeated.

  ‘Sorry… Sir… but that’s… private,’ Mel said feebly.

  ‘As you must have realised by now you have nothing you can call private any more, not your body or your mind.’ His finger hovered above the controls on his desk. ‘I can make you tell me.’

  ‘Lock me up for being a vagrant if you want, Sir, but that’s … a family matter.’

  He hesitated. ‘Ah… family. And what family do you have?’

  ‘My mother and father… and my sister, Madelyn, Sir. Well… she’s my stepsister, really, but we’ve lived together since we were very young.’

  ‘Would you say you are a close family?’

  Mel swallowed hard. There was so much meaning in that simple word: “close”. ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘I see. And do any of them know where you are now?’

  Mel said: ‘No, Sir, I haven’t called them yet,’ before she realised she could have lied. But it was too late to take the words back. Now they knew she was alone and nobody would be coming to Shackleswell to look for her. They could do anything they wanted to her…

  ‘Won’t they be missing you by now?’

  What a question to have to answer. Until a few days ago the response would have been easy and automatic. But now… ‘I don’t think so, Sir,’ she said in a bleak whisper.

  ‘Then something significant must have happened to drive you apart. Were they abusive to you or your sister in any way?’

  The suggestion was shocking. ‘Oh no, Sir. They were… they are perfect parents. We all went to church together. They loved us.’

  ‘I see. You use the past tense when speaking of their love. Don’t you think they love you anymore? Is it something you did?’

  Mel chewed on her strap and said nothing. That was something she could never tell anybody. The spring-loaded canes swished through the air and laid a fresh pair of stripes across her bottom. Mel winced, dizzy with pain and the perversely thrilling hot warmth seeping through her sex. She bit harder on her strap and shook her head.

  ‘Suppose I said I would halve your sentence if you tell me exactly why you ran away from home,’ Gouge said.

  He was trying to take her to that dark place she did not want to think about. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone! It was all too much. ‘Do what you want but I’ll never tell you!’ she shouted. ‘This is all mad and you’re all sick perverts and you can go to….eeeeehh!’

  The flail between her legs whirred into life and the thongs hissed through the air. They slapped and swiped across the helplessly exposed swell of her vulva, setting the plaint cleft mound shivering. Sharp, crisp smacks of leather striking flesh filled the room as they cut into the depths of her slot, pulling it open and smacking her delicate inner labia, licking about the mouth of her vagina and rasping across the nub of her clitoris.

  Mel shrieked and bit down on the rubber strap between her teeth even as her pussy seemed to explode in searing pain. It was far worse than the canes on her bottom or the breast spanking. Her hips twisted wildly but impaled on the anal rod she could not escape the relentless hail of blows and only succeeded in churning the phallus with dark sensuality inside her rectum. The fear, pain and stimulation inside and out overwhelmed her. She lost control of her bladder and hot urine spurted from her cleft and was caught by the tips of the flailing lashes, splattering it across her thighs and belly and then up over her breasts and into her face. Only the guard about the wheel prevented it from being sprayed all over the room. That was why it was there. How many other girls had been driven to pee from pain like her? It cupped the flying droplets and channelled them in a trickle down into the base tray

  Wetted by her discharge, the thongs cut even deeper into her flesh. Her pussy throbbed and burned, turning from pink to scarlet. Mel bawled uncontrollably, not only the pain but also the stark humiliation at disgracing herself so intimately before strangers. Surely her misery could not get any worse… except it did.

  Through her agony she became aware of a single point of hardness that was standing out from her soft valley of elastic flesh as it was flattened and splayed by the rain of lash strokes. Her clitoris was standing up hard and proud, as though welcoming the pain. Every lash stroke drove it back into her soft depths only for it to spring back up again. There was no escape. She could not run away again. The terrible cock-like rod up her rectum held her in place, impaled and helpless.

  Shame heaped upon misery as her loins filled with raw hot liquid arousal more intense than anything she had ever known. This proved how sick she was. What would she do? She could not stop it but they must never know. She was going to…

  Mel screamed as she orgasmed like a breaking wave that rolled on and on until welcome darkness enfolded her.

  When Mel recovered her senses the lashes had stopped beating her pubes. For a moment she thought she been trapped in a terrible dream. Then she realised her aching, tingling, burning body still hung within in the Frame of Truth. Had she fainted from the pain or the intensity of her orgasm? No, that would be crazy. It was the shock of both together.

  Sweat, tears, urine and orgasmic juices stained her breasts, stomach and thighs, yet she had a strange sensation of perfect ease and balm. She opened her crusted eyes. Colter and Mattock were wiping her down with damp cloths. The strap was pulled from between her teeth and the spout of a water bottle was pushed between her lips. She drank from it automatically.

  Could they tell what she had done?

  ‘Look at this,’ Colter said to Mattock as he wiped a cloth through the sore lips of her pussy to reveal a shiny trail. ‘She juiced herself real good.’

  ‘A natural-born slut,’ Mattock agreed.

  Mel whimpered. How could her body have betrayed her like this? Was she abnormal? She thought of that final dark secret which stabbed her heart even as she hugged it to her. Perhaps she was. She had revealed everything else to her captors except that. Now it was all she had left to call her own…

  On the screen Judge Gouge banged his gavel and Colter slapped Mel’s cheeks to get her attention. ‘Look at the judge…’

  ‘Melanie Paget, apparently you would prefer to suffer rather than confess the truth. However, I have learned enough to make a judgement,’ Gouge said. ‘For the crime of vagrancy I sentence you to an indeterminate period of service in the city of Shackleswell, according to our rules and statutes. You will be trained to perform this service at Gryndstone School. During your service life you will be referred to by the part name of…’ he consulted his laptop ‘… Spring 157, with which you will be marked. Repeat that designation.’

  ‘Spring 157,’ Mel replied feebly.

  The desktop printer came on, spilling out a sheaf of papers and a pink self-adhesive label. Colter took them and held up the label for Mel to see. It read: SPRING 157 in bold type. He peeled off the backing and stuck it across her forehead.

  Now she was a labelled prisoner.

  ‘That is your sole identification from now on and replaces your former name which you will no longer use,’ Gouge continued. ‘You will remain naked during service periods unless permitted clothing by your masters. You will be controlled and restrained according to the requirements of your assigned
function. You will be available for citizens to use for their sexual pleasure as they wish within the legal limits. Any failure to perform to your utmost or disobedience will be punished according to the standard scale of discipline. Do you understand?’

  Melanie was still trying to gather her thoughts and his words seemed unreal. ‘Yes… no. You’re sentencing me to be a… sex slave?’

  ‘That is a very crude word for what you are now, 157,’ said Gouge. ‘Instead of throwing your life away you will become a productive part of this town: a cog of flesh within its social and commercial machinery.’ He addressed Colter and Mattock. ‘Take this unit to Gryndstone School.’ He rapped his gavel again. ‘My judgement is concluded.’

  The screen went dark.

  Chapter Two

  Mel hung trembling in the Frame of Truth, gazing blankly at the dead screen. Her breasts, bottom and groin simmered and stung while her anus ached from clenching the rod inside her. The label bearing her new name felt strange and tight across her forehead. Yet her physical discomforts paled before the turmoil in her mind. Part of her wanted to rage and scream at what she had suffered but fear and shock held it in check. She could not accept this perverted new reality into which she had been plunged. It was utterly beyond anything she had experienced before and she had never felt so wretched and confused.

  She was shaken out of her daze by Colter slapping her cheek again.

  ‘Listen to me, 157,’ he said sternly. ‘We’ll be taking you to Gryndstone in a little while and they’ll teach you how to serve properly, give pleasure and act respectfully. But your education in city ways starts here. Now you’ve been sentenced we can do what we like with you, do you understand?’

  A cold hand seemed to close about her heart as she nodded mechanically.

  ‘And what we’d like to do is screw you. Nothing strange about that. You’re a pretty girl and we’d enjoy it. That’s what you’re for. Lots of other men in Shackleswell are going to be doing the same to you soon enough so there’s no point putting it off. Actually we’re doing you a favour and getting what you fear worst out of the way. You’re frightened, right?’ Mel nodded again. ‘Well that’s perfectly normal and breaking you in quickly will make everything that comes later a bit easier. It might hurt more but nothing will be as bad as your first time. Trust me. We’ve had plenty of girls through here and we know how it works…’

  They turned the Frame of Truth round, rotating it about some hidden pivot and Mel saw the room in which it rested properly for the first time. ‘Welcome to our interrogation suite…’

  It was a windowless room with several doors opening off it. Resting against the walls were racks, trestles and even what looked like folding gibbets. Between them were racks of straps, chains, lashes and an intimidating number of sex toys of every shape and size. Perhaps most sinister of all, in the middle of the room, was a solid black wooden table shaped like an “X” hung about its sides with heavy straps.

  ‘You’ll get used to being around this sort of equipment,’ Mattock said. ‘Shackleswell girls feel right at home here.’

  Mel opened her mouth to protest but then realised it was pointless. What she felt no longer mattered. She was just a numbered slave. Even her name had been taken from her. A strange sense of hopeless resignation seemed to be enfolding her like a blanket and she wrapped herself in it with perverse relief. Yes, please, just do what you want to me! Just get it over with!

  Mattock unfolded a waist-high trestle from the wall. It had a very narrow black vinyl padded top, almost like a thick plank on edge and four splayed legs fitted with heavy straps.

  They unclamped Mel from the frame. She was too numb to resist and in any case her legs were so weak they had to half-carry her over to the trestle. ‘Bend over, face down,’ Colter commanded.

  Mel rested her stomach along the trestle top and laid her arms and legs against the sides of its supporting struts. It pressed into her sternum while her breasts hung down on either side of its main beam. Her knees bent slightly and her hands did not touch the ground, while her head and bottom overhung the ends.

  Colter and Mattock strapped her wrists and ankles to the sides of the legs and then added more straps across her elbows and thighs. An extra strap went over the small of her back, pressing her stomach down against the top edge. She was bound to the device so tightly she could only move her head and flex her fingers and toes.

  There was a pair of weighted chains with crocodile-clip ends looped under the trestle top. These they clamped to her nipples, dragging them out into pink cones and making her wince.

  They took off their uniform jackets, hanging them up beside the rack of lashes, then they peeled open their flies. There were no visible zips or buttons. Flaps of overlapping fabric opened down the front seam that was far deeper than a normal fly and ran back between their legs. The halves pulled wide, folding back neatly and exposing their genitals, which then slid easily through the triangular opening and hung freely in front of their trousers.

  Mel shuddered as she saw their cocks were already swelling and rising in anticipation of that they were going to do to her. They were deliberately showing themselves off. She felt revolted but she could not take her eyes off their thick penises and heavy hairy testicles. They were the symbols of their absolute power over her: the power to penetrate her like swords of flesh. How much would it hurt to have them inside her?

  ‘Better get used to the sight of these as well,’ Mattock advised her, stroking his by now stiff penis. ‘You’ll be seeing plenty more of them in Shackleswell.’

  From the rack of lashes they took down what looked like flyswatters with black rubber blades and swished them experimentally through the air.

  Mel whimpered and tugged at her straps. ‘Please don’t beat me! I’ll try to please you but don’t hit me.’ She was appalled at how craven she sounded.

  ‘You learn that a bit of pain spices up the pleasure,’ Colter said. ‘These’ll sting but they won’t cut your skin. You’ll have far worse in future so you might as well get a taste for it now. After the way you came on the Frame you can take it.’

  It was true she had orgasmed. What did that say about her?

  Colter moved round to stand behind Mel looking at her bottom raised in the air, at her splayed legs and exposed pubes. Reaching under the end of the trestle he drew out a pair of chains with sprung clamps on their ends. Winding them about the outside of her thighs he pinched her thick soft love-lips between thumb and forefinger and closed the clamps about them. Mel winced as they pulled tight, drawing her tender sex-lips wide and exposing her inner valley to his eyes and everything it contained. Her clitoris was swelling again. Why did it do that?

  Meanwhile Mattock was standing in front of her and her wide eyes were following the bobbing of his penis head as though she was hypnotised. Attached to the front of the trestle by a length of fine chain was a rubber ring with two T-bars extending off opposite sides. Mattock took it up, pried her mouth open and pushed it between her teeth. The ring went under her tongue while the bars slid between her jaws, pushing them wide. The crosspieces nestled against the inside of her cheeks, holding the ring in place.

  ‘Don’t want you biting,’ Mattock said. ‘Ever given a man oral before?’

  Numbly Mel shook her head.

  ‘I’ve got a virgin hole here,’ he remarked.

  Colter had been feeling Mel’s sex, sliding his stiff fingers further up inside her, thumbing her clitoris and making her shudder. The feeling she had on the frame was returning. How could she possibly respond the same way so soon?

  ‘This has been used but she’s tight,’ Colter observed. ‘I don’t think this little cog’s had the polish worn off her yet. She’s as wet as a slut can get and her clit’s up.’

  ‘Told you she was a natural,’ said Mattock. He took hold of Mel by her hair and pulled her head up, positioning the purple plum of his shaft before her face so she had to stare at its single slotted eye. ‘You suck and lick this as hard as you can an
d when I come you swallow it all down, got that?’

  They were giving her instructions on how she was to degrade herself! She nodded.

  He rammed his shaft between her parted lips and the taste of a man filled Mel’s mouth for the first time. At the same moment Colter took hold of her hips and forced his shaft into her vagina.

  She was skewered between them, rocking with their thrusts, snatching breaths while being half choked by Mattock’s cockhead while Colter’s cock was pumping into her sore vagina. Mel had only had intercourse half a dozen times before and now she was taking two men inside her at once. She did not really know what she was doing only that the sooner they came the sooner it would be over. Clumsily she began to squeeze and suck on both shafts. It was a surprise to find she could suck with her vagina but it seemed to be happening.

  Her world shrunk to encompass her bound body and the two men apparently trying to ram their straining penises as deep as possible inside her until they met in the middle. She closed her eyes, forgetting about the men and concentrated only on their cocks. They were like hard fleshy snakes, writhing and slithering and pounded away inside her.

  The pumping motion set the trestle creaking. Chains jingled and her breasts began to bob and sway in heavy liquid motion. Slowly the weights hanging from her nipples began to swing in time, tugging on her tender flesh.

  Then the men began to use their paddles. Colter swiped his blade across her haunches while Mattock attacked her breasts, beating them against the sides of the trestle beam. Her resilient flesh flattened and then sprang back. Her nipples chains danced a jig under her.

  Mel almost choked on his shaft as she tried to cry out and she writhed and jerked at her straps. But her feelings meant nothing. Faster and faster the blows fell. She was like a horse being whipped along to the winning post. She was crying but she kept on sucking. It was all she could do. The blows hurt and yet did not hurt. It was unspeakably cruel to use her like this but it began not to matter because she knew there was a reward at the finish. The knot in her stomach was no longer fear but something equally primeval and as hard to control and it pulsed and grew until she felt she was going to burst.