Irontown 1: Student Maids Page 6

  ‘The Twin-Gynaton-powered Gentleman’s Tricycle,’ Bradawl said. ‘A very efficient device to use about town.’

  Images of the bizarre vehicle from different angles appeared on the screen. Mel saw how the girls were controlled. Rowland’s feet rested on a sandwich of two light wooden boards linked by coil springs and hinge down one side. The lower board rested at an angle against the girls’ breasts where it was studded with small pyramidal metal spikes. A closer view of the middle of the board showed a small pair of metal balls on arms set on a vertical shaft with a lever linking it to the underside of the footboards.

  ‘This is a simple form of accelerator,’ Bradawl explained. ‘As the driver pressed his feet down, pushing the spikes onto their breasts, the girls were encouraged to pedal faster. The device carrying the twin balls is based upon Watt’s conical pendulum governor and was turned by a shaft driven by the rear axle. As it spun faster it pushed back on the lower board, compressing the springs and easing the pressure of the studs on their breasts. It was one of many such systems that rewarded effort and obedience from gynatons.’

  The imaged changed to show the girls’ groins. Rods from the rear axle ran up between their legs to ribbed balls pressing into their vulvas. The vibrator buzzing away in Mel’s own groin speeded up again and she knew she was making it wet with her juices.

  ‘As you can see they were also directly rewarded for their exertions by sexual stimulation. Unlike many of his contemporaries, some of whom denied the female orgasm existed and were ignorant of the function of the clitoris, Rowland recognised the reality of female sexual arousal and developed a system of punishments and rewards using its power. He proved that suitable women could be conditioned to accept intimately merging with machines once their guilt about their responses was removed. The earlier they could be initiated into this process the better, of course…’

  A new image had Rowland inspecting a row of naked and chained young women. Then they were shown being exercised on treadmills and squatting down on pistons lodged inside their rectums or vaginas to operate hydraulic pumps. Mel clenched about her anal plug in sympathy.

  ‘Rowland found a source of young female labour in prisons, offering to take suitable girls off their hands to serve in his factories. Hard work and corrective discipline were a punishment for whatever crimes they had committed and also a means of re-education. The stimulation they experienced enhancing their sexual responses and conditioning to obedience also made them ideal as a means of keeping the passions of his male workers satisfied. You may think this was cruel but life as a well-fed and exercised gynaton, encouraged to enjoy the pleasures of sex in a controlled and safe environment, was preferable to prison or even living freely in a city slum. At the end of their period of service gynatons also made capable and obedient wives.’

  A new image appeared showing a naked girl strapped spread-eagled to a table with her legs supported in the air by heavy metal rods and braces in the act of being pierced. A series of close-ups showed variously sized rings, rods and chains being strung through the girl’s nipples and labia that were used to fasten her to various stanchions, levers and wheels.

  ‘It was discovered that piercings, apart from making girls easier to confine and control, when used to physically link them with the devices they were operating, gave them more satisfaction, both physically and emotionally. As we would put it now, it made gynatons feel empowered.’

  Mel shivered at the sight even as her vibrator buzzed a little harder, rubbing up and down through her sex.

  ‘With increasing use of electric signals to sequence their actions while the gynatons provided fine control and dexterity, Rowland developed a version of a mechanical assembly line years before computer-controlled industrial robots. After his death these were developed even further…’

  A grainy and slightly jerky black and white film appeared on the screen showing a row of naked woman chained to a production line carrying large but unidentifiable mechanisms. The girls had wires and contacts strapped to their bodies, especially their arms and backs. Other wires burrowed up their anuses and were clipped to their labia rings. They moved with metronomic precision, deftly adding components to the devices as they passed along the line in front of them.

  ‘Maintaining a steady rate of production was rewarded by the usual stimulus,’ Bradawl said, as the film showed close-ups of smiling faces shyly glancing at the camera. ‘During wartime Shackleswell girls performed valuable work maintaining supplies of precision military equipment. Not that visiting dignitaries knew the truth about our true methods, of course…’ A slightly better quality film showed a party of men in hats and stiff collars inspecting a busy machine shop staffed exclusively by women all respectably dressed in overalls. When the visitors had gone a foreman blew a whistle and all the girls shed their clothes, giggling and laughing to reveal their collars and piercings by which they were once more chained back to their benches.

  ‘Although modern advanced mechanisation and computer technology has rendered some of the work done by gynatons obsolete, there are certain labour-intensive jobs they can perform and their training still serves a valuable social purpose. The demand for their sexual services has actually grown and is now used to augment the income of the town. In recent years, with growing concerns about social problems, a fragmenting population, pollution and the environment, Rowland’s ideas and principles have become even more relevant... as you are even now discovering.’

  The split screen images of their pubes appeared on the screen once more, showing the vibrators sliding up and down through their by now streaming sex valleys. Mel realised how very wet and hot she was and how her clit was as hard and pulsing as her nipples. She could actually hear her juices dripping into the bucket and could smell their arousal filling the air. Between the images, her sense of exposure, the vibrator and the piercings it had been impossible not to respond. She hated herself for doing so but she could not help it. Twisting her head round she saw Bolt and Cam were in the same state, squirming in their chairs, angry yet desperate, their eyes hollow with helpless need.

  ‘In Gryndstone we control what happens to our girls’ bodies,’ Bradawl said, tapping more keys on his laptop. ‘Including when and how they are penetrated…’

  The angle at which the vibrators were moving tipped back from the vertical. The pumping heads found the mouths of their vaginas and plunged up into them. The three girls’ eyes bulged as both their passages were filled. Then the anal plugs began to vibrate and the nipple cables began to deliver tiny teasing shocks. Mel was moaning and trembling helplessly, feeling the liquid heat filling her loins. How could she possibly be about to come for the third time in as many hours?

  ‘We control what pain or pleasure you experience from now on,’ Bradawl said as he watched them squirming in their seats. ‘For healthy young females it can be considerable. Rowland investigated your capacity for multiple orgasms in great detail and also the means to initiate them, even in unwilling subjects. You may hate the process now but you will learn that only in Shackleswell will you find such intense pleasure and the freedom to enjoy it without guilt…’

  Mel did not hear any more because at that moment she came yet again and even as she wanted to deny it she knew it was the most terrible and wonderful thing she had ever felt.

  Chapter Five

  Mel, Cam 031 and Bolt 184 sat hunched up against the sides of the cage that was apparently to be their sleeping quarters during the time they spent in Gryndstone. Evening light filtered in through narrow, high, barred windows. It shone on the tears streaming down their faces.

  The cage was part of a double back-to-back row inside one of the wings of the school. They were essentially brick pens with metal barred front walls and ceilings, just high enough to sit upright in but too low to stand. Each had a single low gate set in the front wall just large enough for a girl to crawl through on her hands and knees. The floor area was about the size of a king-sized mattress, which was what it was covered with. T
here were three pillows and three blankets. Let into the outer bars low down on one side of the door was an opening sufficient for a squatting girl to push her hips through. It was covered on the outside of the bars by a projecting mesh canopy with an open bottom that enclosed the rim a waste bucket. Beside it was a toilet roll holder. Hooked into the bars on the other side was a paper tissue dispenser, with a small wire wastepaper basket hung underneath it and a water bottle with a peculiar spout that all of them had so far ignored. On one wall was a row of hooks for their shoes, socks and ties

  Except for their sobs of misery the dormitory was silent and empty. The rest of the school was dining or at play. Perhaps it would have been better if they had company instead of being alone with their thoughts without the fear of a cane or cock to distract them. Once their tears started Mel found there was nothing she could do to stop them and she was too tired to try. They had to come sometime and the flow would only cease when she was completely drained. It must be the same for her new companions. Though she did not know what they had personally endured before she met them, they must have reached their emotional limits many hours ago. Bradawl had then pushed them over the brink and now had come the inevitable response. Gryndstone was already living up to its name…

  Bradawl had allowed them to remain slumped limply in their chairs of pain and pleasure for a minute to recover from their enforced collective orgasm. Then he pressed a key on his laptop and warning jolts of electricity stung their nipples, jerking them back into unwilling attention.

  ‘Gryndstone teaches six subjects over a six-day week with Sunday as a rest day,’ he continued. ‘You will normally receive a lesson in each subject every day. There is Physical Education to improve your fitness and stamina. Deportment and Self-Knowledge trains you to present yourself properly and confidently. In Domestic Skills you will learn how to clean, fetch and carry while restrained. Sexual Techniques will teach you to satisfy your masters in any way required. Mechanical Interface will prepare you for merging your bodies with machines. Finally, Obedience classes are self-explanatory.’

  ‘Your timetable and other notices are displayed on the board outside the main hall. You are responsible for checking them. Bells will signal the beginning and end of lessons. The day begins with morning exercise, followed by breakfast, ablutions and school assembly. Then comes your first two lessons. There is a short break followed by two more lessons before lunch. There is an afternoon break and the final two lessons of the day. Then there is evening meal, recreation and bed.

  ‘Apart from regular lessons you will undergo practical training days in town. Your progress will be continually assessed and you must achieve satisfactory grades in all subjects to graduate, however you cannot leave Gryndstone until you also are ready to confess the failings of your past life. You do this in assembly before your teachers and fellow pupils. Simply inform a teacher when you are ready to confess, but I warn you not make the choice lightly. You may think what you have already experienced has been hard but that moment of public confession will be far worse, because you will be baring not simply your body but your heart and soul. None of you can graduate until all three of you have confessed. Then you will take up residence in one of the town slave houses closest to whatever job or service you are judged best suited for and begin your new life as a fully functional and productive gynaton.’

  ‘Now I’ll show you where you will eat and wash, then you can get some proper rest. Tomorrow will be far busier than today.’

  It was only then that Mel realised how hungry and thirsty she was. How long was it since she last had a proper meal? Suddenly she felt ravenously hungry.

  Bradawl linked their collars back into a coffle and then he freed them from the chairs one at a time. The anal plugs pulled out of their bottoms with shameful sucking pops. He bent their arms behind their backs and clipped their cuffed wrists together. When they were all on their feet he led them back out into the corridor.

  The game in the playground seemed to have finished and there was a subdued bustle of activity throughout the school. As they passed other classrooms they heard the voices of teachers, the occasional meek replies of pupils, the creak and whir of unknown machines, the sounds of cane striking flesh and shrieks and whimpers of pain.

  Bradawl led them through a door labelled: DINING HALL. Mel’s cosy image of her old school dining hall was dashed from her mind as she saw what it contained.

  Along the middle of the room were set out four identical long low racks. Each rack supported rows of inverted clear plastic flasks containing what looked like semi-liquidized food. The flasks were linked to an array of a dozen large black rubber phalluses, six on each side of the unit, angled upward as though in erection. Hanging under each phallus was a bold laminated label bearing a part name and number. There was a broad wooden step running down each side of the unit with a foam rubber kneeling mat set out in front of each phallus. The mats had slots in their middles through which protruded the upper half of a wheel. Cast into its rubber rim were numerous prongs, ribs and knobs, all shiny with grease.

  ‘Tonight you will eat alone but from tomorrow you’ll be using these facilities with the rest of the school,’ Bradawl explained. ‘You will always eat from the same dispenser so we can monitor your nutritional intake.’ He led them to the end of one row where they saw their own names and numbers hanging on three adjacent phalluses. ‘The flasks contain a nutritionally balanced diet comprising a main meal and dessert, but you have to work to get them. Kneel down…’

  Mel thought Bolt was going to lose her temper again at this fresh humiliation, but with a barely stifled groan she knelt on her mat, squatting over the wheel so that its projections nuzzle into her cleft. Mel and Cam did the same on either side of her. The slippery rubber fingers teased Mel’s sore vulva. The phallus labelled SPRING 157 was now pointing right in her face. Though the rest of the moulding was lifelike, she saw it had an overlarge hole in its tip.

  ‘To obtain food you have to rock back and forth to pump it out of the flasks and then suck it out of the dispenser spout,’ Bradawl told them. ‘Begin…’

  With wretched sighs they clenched the wheels between their sore sex lips and began to ride their hips back and forth. At the same time they took the ends of the phalluses into their mouths and began to suck. The flasks bubbled and glopped and warm gobbets of food began to flow out of the phallus tips. It was a simple wholesome meal of potato and vegetable and actually tasted quite good. Even Bolt seemed to have put aside her anger for the moment and was gulping it down hungrily.

  As they fed Bradawl said: ‘Feeding also reinforces an important lesson all Gryndstone girls must learn: in Shackleswell the image of the penis represents the social hierarchy and your place in it. We are unashamedly a male-dominated society and the penis is the symbol of manhood and mastery. You bow down before it, suck upon it to give pleasure to your master and in return you receive sustenance from it, whether in the form of his sperm or food dispensed from its likeness. As both your most sensitive orifices are being stimulated to accept ingress, performing this service will in turn give you pleasure.’

  He was quite openly admitting they were being conditioned to worship cock, Mel thought incredulously. A day ago such an idea would have disgusted her. Now, tired, hungry and helpless, she found the simple pleasure of consuming food combined with the gentle stimulation of her pussy perverse yet also weirdly satisfying. They’re just rubber tubes shaped like cocks, she told herself. Sucking on this doesn’t mean I’d do it to a man and like it. Of course she had done that once already that day, and come in the process.

  The second flask contained apple and custard, which they gulped down with equal relish. The texture of the custard reminded Mel of Mattock’s sperm slipping about inside her mouth. All right, but this tastes much better, she told herself.

  When they were finished Bradawl led them through to a washroom of gleaming white tiles. It was not like anything Mel had seen before and again the phallic theme was evident.
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  The most normal things in the room were a row of washbasins interspersed with hanging rails of towels and shelves of hairbrushes, combs, electric hairdryers, hair ties and ribbons in the school colours, toothbrushes, soaps, shampoos and even bottles of perfume. To one side of this was a wall of open showers and on the other a row of open squat toilets. These were raised on a long plinth with steps leading up to them. An arrangement of bars and rods was set before them while mounted on the wall behind each of the drain holes were two black rubber phalluses, one above the other. The lower one jutted up at a sharp angle while the upper one was horizontal.

  At the very centre of the room was a large swivel chair, separated from the bank of toilets by a short double arc of waist-high tubular metal railing, with the inner arc set a little higher than the outer. Anybody sitting in the chair could survey the whole room by simply turning round. Mel imagined it full of naked, showering, soapy, peeing chained girls with a teacher watching them. It was a voyeur’s wet dream.

  Sets of metal channels hung from sturdy-looking brackets on the ceiling. They ran in a continuous circuit round the room with side loops in front to the showers, towel rails and toilets. A few dozen long chains with ball runners engaged in the channels hung ready by the doorway.

  ‘At Gryndstone you will learn the importance of personal hygiene,’ Bradawl said. ‘You exist to serve and your bodies will be kept ready to do so at all times. Your hair and fingernails will be trimmed for you at regular intervals but you are responsible for your general cleanliness from day to day.’ He clipped their collars to the overhead chains. ‘Move round to the toilets,’ he commanded.

  They walked round to the toilets with their ceiling chains rattling along after them. There were strips of rubber matting set in the tiling on either side of the drain holes. In front of them two short polished posts supported a horizontal bar from the middle of which rose a vertical rod that forked into two arms each with a hook on the end. In an arc about the drain hole the spouts of water jets angled upward. There was a groove in the tiles from beneath the pairs of wall-mounted phalluses leading into the drain hole. The lower phallus jutted up at forty-five degrees almost from the base of the wall. Its shaft was quite slender and Mel could see it had a series of fine holes in their heads and sides, while the upper phallus appeared to have only one hole in its tip.