Irontown 1: Student Maids (2 page)

Colter swung the front forked rod with its outer guard and lash thongs in towards the apex of her thighs, drawing out the thongs to ensure they would strike the mound of her exposed pudenda when they were spun and extended. When he was satisfied he locked it in place and then patted her sex. Instinctively Mel tried to pull away from his touch but the rod up her rear held her hips in place.

The policemen stepped back to admire their handiwork. Mel was shivering in fear and disbelief and tears were slowly running down her cheeks.

‘Now that’s how a girl should look going up before a judge,’ said Mattock in satisfaction. ‘Properly humbled with her arse stuffed and tits trembling.’

‘Which is the way we like ‘em in Shackleswell,’ Colter agreed.

Mattock swung the TV screen out from the wall so that it hung just above the camera they had been using earlier. ‘Now the judge will be able to see you and you’ll be able to see him,’ he said. ‘He should be ready to hear your case shortly.’

‘He can control all the functions of the frame remotely,’ Colter told Mel. ‘He’ll use it to get the truth out of you. If you’re smart you won’t fight it…’

The big screen came to life. ‘There, I said we wouldn’t keep you waiting long,’ said Mattock.

An image appeared of a greying, stern-faced man, dressed in imposing red robes and judicial wig. He was seated at a desk on which was visible the back of an open laptop.

‘It’s Judge Gouge,’ Colter said to Mel. ‘Don’t speak until you’re given permission, call him “Sir” and answer every question truthfully. That’s very important…’ He stepped forward into camera shot. ‘This is Melanie Paget, My Lord,’ he said formally. ‘She was arrested earlier this morning in the town square by Constable Mattock and myself on a charge of vagrancy. Our report should be on your screen…’

‘Yes, I have it here…’ The judge consulted the laptop for a minute then looked up at Mel with a penetrating gaze that seemed to reach right through the screen. ‘I see that you have refused to give any further details about yourself, girl. How did you come to be in Shackleswell without any means of support or an address that can be used to confirm your identity?’

His manner was perfectly measured and reasonable, as though it was just another day in court and she was an ordinary prisoner. Maybe it was normal for him to interrogate naked bound girls with rods up their backsides but how could she possibly be expected to reply sensibly in such circumstances?

‘P… please… you can’t do this to me…it’s not right… ahhh!’

The judge had pressed a control on his laptop. The cocked canes poised behind Mel’s bottom slashed across her buttocks with an audible hiss and crack of cane on flesh. She felt the impact of the blows ripple through her followed by stinging heat as if her bottom was on fire. She had never been caned before. Held fast by the rod up her rear she could not even ride the strokes. As her buttocks contracted she actually clenched it tighter inside her. Something about the perverse combination of pain, internal pressure and exposure made her pussy tingle and pulse. Mel sobbed in confusion and disbelief as hot tears burned in the corners of her eyes.

Anger and resentment, which had been numbed by the speed of events, now flickered within her. How dare they treat her like this! It was obscene, cruel and illegal. She heard a whir of some motor hidden in the fame base followed by clicks as the canes were re-cocked and struggled to contain herself. All her indignation and outrage counted for nothing against the raw power they had over her.

‘That was a warning,’ Gouge said sternly. ‘Now you will answer my question fully and clearly and when you do you will be properly respectful.’

Mel sniffed and blinked away her tears. Although she was spread-eagled naked and impaled before him it seemed she had to pretend to be civil. It was madness! With an effort she said meekly: ‘I live… lived in Shrewsbury, Sir. It doesn’t matter exactly where because I’ve left home.’

‘And you have no other residence?’

‘No, Sir.’

‘You’re not in further education?’

‘No yet, Sir. I was hitching to London. I thought I could get some work. A lorry driver said he could drop me here and I’d have better chances. I’d hardly ever heard of Shackleswell but it looked like a nice clean town. I was only here about ten minutes when these policemen stopped me and asked me who I was and where I’d come from. Because I didn’t want to give my home address and didn’t have any other address to give or much money they said I was a vagrant and that was against the law and they arrested me.’

‘It is against the law in Shackleswell,’ the judge confirmed. ‘Here everybody has a productive occupation of some kind. We don’t let any asset go to waste. Why did you leave home?’

That was a question she would not answer. Hastily she said: ‘That’s none of your business… awww… eeeehh…uuhhh!’

The paddle wheels on either side of her chest had spun into motion, turning in opposite directions and sending a torrent of rubber smacking into her breasts, striking their sides, undercurves and even obliquely across her nipples. As she shrieked and yelped her full globes heaved and shivered under their impact. She arched her back trying to lift them clear of the flailing paddles but there was no escape. The individual smacks merged into a continuous pattering rasp and her treacherously erect nipples were beaten down only to spring up again and again. As a scarlet blaze spread across her pale soft curves Mel writhed and strained within the frame, sobbing and biting down on the rubber strap between her teeth.

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?’