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Bride of Irontown (Adriana Arden)

Bride of Irontown by Adriana Arden

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Pretty new Shackleswell wife, Tessa Millwright, is going off on her honeymoon in a chastity belt, strictly according to Irontown tradition. She is meant to learn to honour and obey her rich sophisticated husband Archie while they stay at a secluded luxury country hotel supplied with all the facilities and accessories necessary for playing sex slave games. But something goes disastrously wrong and Tess suddenly finds herself in the power of Jack: a common man she detests. She is tied to bondage beds, marked as a piece of property, used as a ponygirl, exposed in public, trained as a pet, compelled to make love to slave girls, put in bizarre and humiliating masks, powers both a slave girl pedalo and trike, endures a naked game of crazy golf, plays in a painful game of slave girl chess, and has to serve all comers in an ordeal of discipline and obedience. If that was not bad enough, how can she keep her shameful downfall from becoming public knowledge back home? Can she survive Jack’s cruel discipline, and will Archie ever get her back?

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 12 / 2017

No. words: 36544

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Sex Slavery / Training

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

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Chapter One

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.
“Irontown”, 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.
He 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.
And 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.
Fresh 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.
At 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 life.
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 know…
* * *
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 it.
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 anybody else.’
‘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 undress.
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.
‘That’s better…’
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 sizes.
‘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: have you?’
‘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 her.
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.

Author Information

Author of The Obedient Alice, Alice in Chains and Abandoned Alice; Captives of Cheyner Close; the Girlflesh Institute, The Girlflesh Castle and The Girlflesh Captives, all previously published by Nexus.

Now published by Silver Moon: Irontown 1, 2 and 3, Iron Kingdom,The Glass Harem and the Pits of Despair are available as ebooks and in print.


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Publishers of non-adult and adult fiction. Authors, experienced and new are welcome. We have a number of different sites for various genres, including specialist sites for Romance (www.a1romancestories.com, our non-adult and erotica site at www.fiction4all.com and a number of adult sites based around our main site at www.a1adultebooks.com

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