The former Tessa Harrow – from this morning now Tessa
Millwright – squirmed in her seat. Her
chastity belt, even though it was the latest model, was chafing. It was so slim and figure-hugging that
nobody would have known it was there under her dress. Nevertheless it
still chafed. The belt, which also
contained tiny batteries, motors and electronic circuits, was made of woven
titanium mesh straps with a slim locating prong inserted in her anus, holding a
contoured triangular frame around the mound of her vulva. The inside of the frame held a fan of
titanium segments that concealed her intimate orifice. While it was closed, she could not touch or
relieve herself. It was of course locked
about her waist and she did not have the key.
But it was traditional to wear one, at
least for an Irontown bride. Her father
had handed over the keys and the belt’s remote handset to Archibald Millwright,
her new husband, after the ceremony. Now
he and she were headed off for a traditional Irontown honeymoon.
more formally known as Shackleswell, was the creation of W. S. Rowland: the
Victorian engineer and free-thinker. He
had been known all over England in his day, but his greatest advances were kept
secret within the town he founded.
realized that on a small scale and over relatively short distances, the human
female body was a very effective, energy efficient and non-polluting power
source when coupled with properly designed mechanical systems. He applied these principles to the excess
female population left behind after so many men had
been killed in his time fighting wars, and thought his girl-powered machines
were a solution. He also believed that
prostitution could be safely regulated and used positively. Ahead of his time, he recognized the
existence of the female orgasm and developed a system of punishments and
rewards using its power, which could condition suitable women to accept
intimately merging with machines. He
declared: "Flesh must yield to iron and steel, at the same time giving it
life and purpose.” In his memory, all
Irontown slaves were named and numbered after machine parts and treated
according to his principles.
yet a stranger could pass through Shackleswell and seen none of this. Its population of slave women and slave
owners were kept well concealed from the outside world. And so it had
successfully adapted to life in the 21st first century.
potential slave girls were constantly being brought into Shackleswell, which,
unknown to the rest of the country, was doing its bit to relieve the ongoing
problems of disaffected youth and delinquency.
It had its scouts looking for lost girls and secret arrangements with
outside social services and police to take selected female cases off their
hands. In Irontown, they were taught
discipline and given a new sense of purpose and direction. And, after their initial shock, they accepted
living as slaves because they knew they were playing an important part in the
life of the town, like flesh cogs in a vast machine. The city was largely built
and maintained by their labour, and in return, it’s free population loved and
valued and cared for their willing slaves.
least that was the official position.
Secretly, Tessa had always felt contempt for slave girls, and thought
they were treated far too gently. Most
of them had been spongers and petty criminals in the outside world. They should be grateful that they were fed
and housed and made to do useful work.
And yet in Shackleswell, they were allowed to have days off once a week
when they could wander about the town almost like free people! Even her own ponygirl, Silver, had to have
her free time. That was Irontown law.
Tess squirmed in her seat again. And now it was she who was a prisoner of
unyielding metal, almost, she shuddered, like a slave. If she wanted to pee, she would have to ask
her new husband to use the remote handset he carried to open the fan of metal
petals over her vulva. Of course, in her
case it was only a temporary inconvenience.
Something that had to be got out of the way for the sake of tradition…
From his seat behind the wheel of his
classic Rolls Silver ghost, Archie glanced across her to her and smiled and
reached out and squeezed her hand.
‘Soon be there and then I’ll have you
out of that,’ he told her cheerfully.
Archie was rich and square-jawed and
solid, with dark hair and a neat moustache.
Perhaps he was not the most exciting of men, but he needed a respectable
wife and she needed to find a suitable husband.
It was another tradition that Irontown women married young.
Tess smiled back in return. ‘Yes, Husband,’ she told him meekly, as was
expected. She supposed she had better
get in practice at doing that, at least until they had settled into married
Honeymoons were when new Irontown
wives were supposed to learn to obey their husbands in all things. Naturally, this could only be done in an
environment that accepted Irontown ways, which limited the number of suitable
destinations beyond its city walls. In
future Tess was determined to travel the world to all those exotic places where
normal people went, where they would never guess the secrets of her
hometown. But for now, she had to submit
to tradition. They were headed for
Chasten Park, a secluded luxury holiday hotel set deep in the countryside and
owned and run by Irontown supporters.
It was here over the next two weeks
that she would learn (she did not like the sometimes used
word “trained” which was too suggestive of slavery) to play the part of a
dutiful wife. She did not expect it to
be pleasant, but it was a necessity. Of
course, in future they would both make free use of their own slave girls. That was expected. But in public, they would maintain the image
of a loving couple.
It was a price that Tess was willing to pay for security
and having all the comforts of life.
Then Tess frowned and bit her lip as uncomfortable memories surfaced
once again. Actually, she had already paid a shameful price to be here now. But that was something Archie must never
* * *
Late one evening three months earlier, Tess had been
standing in the Foundry Ponygirl Stables tack room after the rest of the staff
and riders had left. Confronting her was
the gangling form of Charlie Puller, one of the stable lads. Normally he would have been of no interest to
her; but for last few weeks, he had held a secret of hers that she could not
allow to be made public. He had
witnessed her being shamed and humiliated, and he had the physical evidence to prove
Since that terrible event, on several
instances she had caught him smiling at her knowingly, enjoying his sense of
power over her. But he had said nothing,
and made no blackmail demand. She could
not go on like that. So
she had demanded a meeting to sort things out.
Charlie grinned and held up his
phone. On it was an incriminating
recording she could not allow anybody else to see.
‘So, Miss Harrow,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ve got something you want, right?’
‘Yes!’ Tess snapped. ‘And you promised you wouldn’t show it to
‘And I haven’t. Good as my word. The only people who’ve seen it are the ones
that were there. Me, you, Miss Samantha
and Danny… and Beauty of course. Danny
said he wiped his recording after it had done its job, leaving me with the only
copy. He thought I might like to hold
onto it just in case, like having insurance.’
‘How much do you want for it?’
‘Hold on,’ Charlie said. ‘You want to pay me for this recording which
shows you making nasty spiteful remarks about slave girls that’s not in the
Irontown tradition, then fighting topless with spanking paddles with Sam
Fillister and then losing and having to pay forfeit: a session stark naked on
the balance beam. You wet yourself on
it, didn’t you? And screamed a lot. And then you came several times as well. By the end of it, you were blubbing and
begging me to take you down.’
Tess’s cheeks burned in shame at the
recollection. Nobody must ever see her
like that. She would be ruined socially.
‘Yes, yes, yes! All of that. Now, how much do you want for it! I can get five thousand… maybe eight…’
‘Oh, I don’t want money,’ Charlie said
lightly. ‘I want you. I want you to
perform for me here and now. I want to
see you humiliated one more time for being such a stuck up snobby tart. Except this time, it will be more hands on
for me. Well, I say hands on, more cock in, if you know I mean…’
Rage boiled up inside Tess. How dare he suggest something like that! How could he expect her to have sex with
him! She turned to stride out but he held up his phone again.
‘You walk out the door, and I’ll start
sending copies of this to all my friends,’ he warned her.
Her shoulders dropped
and she felt sick and, what was even worse, powerless. She had never felt like this before. ‘Maybe I can get ten thousand… please…’
He shook his head. ‘Strip!’ he told her. ‘I want to have another look at you starkers. You’ve
got a nice body as I remember. Don’t
worry; nobody will bother us in here.
It’s just you and me.’
Biting her lip, Tess began to
In a minute stood naked before him,
trembling with fear and shame, struggling to keep her hands to her sides and
not try to cover herself up as instinct demanded. Charlie smiled and walked around her, looking
her over just as she would have done with a new ponygirl.
‘Nice,’ he commented, ‘very nice…’
Tess had dark straight hair, pale
creamy skin, a firm jaw, a straight determined nose, deep blue eyes and shapely
lips that were naturally pursed, as if in perpetual disapproval of
something. Her pale, neatly rounded
breasts were capped by full brown nipple cones.
Her shoulders were strong, her waist was trim
and her legs lean. Her bottom was also
well rounded and fleshy. Her pussy was
smooth, deep, pale lipped cleft with a wedge of dark curls above it.
Charlie stroked and patted her and Tess flinched and shivered, sick with disgust.
‘Yes, Tess, you’ve got a nice body,’
he declared. ‘I can call you Tess, can’t
I? Miss Harrow seems little a formal in
the circumstances, doesn’t it?’ When she
did not reply he pinched and twisted her left nipple until she yelped. ‘Doesn’t
it?’ he prompted.
‘Yes… yes,’ she yelped. ‘P… please,
call me Tess…’
‘Now, are you going to be a good girl
for me, Tess, and try your hardest to please me?’
‘Yes… I’ll try to please you…’
‘I’ll try, Sir.’
‘I’ll try… Sir…’ she said wretchedly.
Charlie dragged something out from
under a bench. It was a full-size
leather saddle, without stirrups, mounted on a wooden trestle. The legs of the trestle had leather straps screwed
to them. There were hooks fitted to the
underside of the trestle beam from which hung several implements of different
‘Bend across it with your hands and
feet resting on the floor next to the legs,’ Charlie commanded her.
Trembling with fear, Tess obeyed,
spreading out her hands and feet as her stomach rested on the curve of worn and
stained leather. Charlie buckled her
straps tight around her wrists and ankles, holding her in place. Now her head and breasts overhung one side of
the saddle, while her bare bottom jutted out from the other, exposing her groin
to his gaze.
‘Open your mouth,’ he said, selecting
something from underneath the trestle.
She obeyed again, and he pushed
something into it. It was a short length
of bungee cord with two large broad rubber hooks on each end. The cord went around the back of her neck
while the ends of its hooks lodged between her teeth, stretching her lips back
and holding her jaws apart, baring her teeth. Now she could not prevent
anything being put into her mouth.
He took out a ponygirl riding crop
from underneath the trestle and swished it through the air in front of her
nose. ‘You know one of these is, don’t
you, Tess?’ He said. ‘I’ve seen you use them
on your pony often enough. But have you
ever had one across your bum? I asked:
‘N… no, S… Sir I haven’t…’ she choked
out around the rubber hooks, which slurred her words.
‘Well now you can find out what it
feels like. And I’ll keep on beating you
until you beg me to screw you. And I
mean, seriously beg me!’
The crop swished through the air and
cracked against her buttocks. Tessa
screamed through her stretched jaws as searing pain burned into her, while her
soft bottom flesh rippled under the power of the impact. She jerked convulsively, grinding her stomach
across the shallow curve of the saddle until the fronts of her hips banged
against its side. She had never felt
such pain before, even when Sam had been beating her during the terrible fight. But this was only beginning.
Half a dozen more times Charlie slashed
the crop across her bottom, cutting blazing welts into its twin
hemispheres. Tess lost charge of her
bladder and hot pee hissed from her slot onto the floor.
‘That’s what it feels like to be
helpless, Tess,’ he mocked her. ‘Just
like a ponygirl…’
By now tears were streaming down her
cheeks. But she had not begged him to
screw her. Perhaps she still could not
accept this was actually happening to her, or simply could not regain the use
of her tongue after her string of wild screams.
But Charlie read her lack of response is stubbornness.
‘Maybe I’ll have a go with your tits
and see if that’ll loosen you up,’ he said.
He moved round the trestle to stand in
front of her. She saw his flies were
open and his stiff penis was jutting out through them. He swung the crop under her chin across the
upper slopes of her dangling breasts.
They bounced and shivered and swung
wildly as each searing below cut across them, filling them with blazing
pain. The leather thong sliced across
her nipples folding their hard, throbbing cones over as it did so. And with each blow, his hard penis bobbed and
swayed: mocking and threatening her.
As her breasts danced, her screams
resumed their ear-splitting pitch. They
must be burning, torn to shreds, she thought: she’d never feel them again.
‘Too proud to get screwed by a humble
stable lad?’ Charlie asked her.
Finally, she found her voice, even as
she temporarily lost any sense of pride.
She would do anything to escape such pain. ‘Awwww…
p… please, please… eeeek… Sir… use me… Sir… fuck me… owww… screw me… now… please… I beg you…’
The terrible crop dropped to the floor
as Charlie ran about her and rammed his cock up into her surprisingly wet hot
pussy. She sobbed as he filled her and
then groaned as he began to thrust, his hips rasping across her blazing
buttocks. A tiny bit of her felt soiled
and defiled, but it was infinitely better than the crop. Just let him do what he had to do and then it
would all be over…
He must have been close to ejaculating
from sadistic pleasure before he had even penetrated her, because after only a
minute of this he gave a grunt and she felt his hot sperm filling her.
And then suddenly, shockingly, she
felt her sheath clenched tight about him as a short sharp orgasm course through
Charlie slumped across her back
breathing hard and then whispered in her ear. ‘Why, Tess, you
dirty masochistic little tart. I think
you’ve just cum on my cock…’
No, no she couldn’t have!
‘Still, a deal is a deal…’ He was
holding out his phone in front of her eyes highlighting the terrible recording
and then pressing delete…
* * *
A week later came the news that Samantha Fillister and
Danny Stamp were getting married.
What was the matter with her, Tess
wondered? Once Danny’s family had been
quite wealthy, but they’d had some reverses of fortune and now socially he was
nothing. Yet everybody seemed to think
it was true love, which was hardly an excuse.
Of course, Tess secretly hoped it would all go wrong for them, but much
as she hated Sam, she was wary about trying to interfere openly.
Still, there was something she could
do. Archie Millwright had been pestering
her about marriage for some time, and she knew her parents approved of
him. He was not ideal, but he’d do. So, Tess said yes and timed her big expensive
wedding to eclipse the modest union between Sam and Danny. And now here she was on honeymoon with a new
husband and a chastity belt, just like a respectable Irontown wife.