‘No, of course I can, Sir, but…’
‘I believe you painted a mural for the Rushwood House Museum in Derbyshire a few years ago?’
‘Yes I did… but as I can’t do this, Sir.’
‘You mean you won’t, not can’t.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘But if you did, how long would it take you to complete?’
Jane considered the expanse of wall with a professional eye. ‘Once I had a detailed design worked out, maybe a month of actual painting, Sir, if I had assistance with the laying out and blocking in. But I won’t do it…’
‘Even if at the end you can go free?’
Jane hesitated. ‘I beg your pardon, Sir?’
‘Complete the commission satisfactorily and you can go free to do as you wish. Those are my terms. While you’re working on it Adam can help with your research and also report your progress in the Shackleswell Observer, which will assure the IRES that you are, in their eyes, properly enslaved and gainfully employed.’
‘By “research”, Sir, you mean…?’
‘Personally investigating the lives of slaves about Irontown, of course, so you can really understand life here. Make sketches and take photographs for reference and that kind of thing. I’ll arrange for you and Adam to have free access to wherever you want to go. You will be our slave artist in residence painting life here from a slave’s viewpoint. The commission will also give you a valid reason for delaying your planned work and be something you can communicate to your friends and agents explaining why you may be staying here longer than originally planned. This evening you can, under Adam’s monitoring, send Internet and e-mail communications he approves of. That should keep them happy. Your closer family may need more attention, of course…’
‘I’m an only child and my parents are divorced, Sir,’ Jane said.
‘Ahh… how sad. We have very little divorce in Shackleswell. Perhaps that’s because of our some times derided Victorian values. But here women know their place and are happy in it, as do our slaves. It’s good place to belong.’
Jane shuddered. That was the word Cam and Bolt had used. ‘You’ll understand why I can’t agree with that statement, Sir,’ Jane said.
‘I don’t expect you to undergo a sudden conversion, Ms Frobisher. But what about my proposition? Do you accept the commission to paint a mural of Irontown life?’
‘I’d really be free to go at the end of it, Sir?’ she asked cautiously.
‘You heard me say so and Adam is my witness, and I don’t go back on my word,’ Goldsmith said. ‘It will also be publicly reported in the Observer by Adam. That should satisfy you.’
‘You mean Adam will…’ she felt a warning pricking in her pussy ‘… I mean my Master will write about me working on this project?’
‘Of course… every week with photographs.’
Jane gulped. ‘Showing me like this, Sir?
‘Naturally. It’s the best way to convince the IRES that you are now a proper Irontown slave under official supervision. Don’t worry, slaves feature regularly in Observer articles so the readers won’t be shocked by a show of bare flesh.’
But not her bare flesh, Jane thought as she cringed at the idea. But if he really meant it this was her best hope of getting out of Shackleswell. Nothing about it would change her opinion about Irontown, although clearly Goldsmith hoped it would. She might even get paid… before she told everybody about their perverse secret society and brought it crashing down about their ears of course! She took a deep breath. ‘All right, Sir, I accept your commission.’
‘Good,’ Goldsmith said. ‘Now let’s start with a picture to go with Adam’s first article. Do you think you can get it ready for the next edition?
‘If I start right away, Sir,’ Adam said.
And so the official Council photographer was called in and Jane was photographed kneeling naked and submissive between Adam and Goldsmith in front of the blank wall. She felt sick with shame and acute embarrassment. If anybody she knew ever saw this picture…
‘I’ll provide Adam with a list of useful places to take you to gather material,’ Goldsmith said. ‘You will begin your research tomorrow…’
Then Jane felt her stomach flip as the full scope of the project sunk home. A mural was a serious undertaking under ordinary circumstances and she’d have to do it naked and in chains painting slave women being dominated by machines and try to make all that look natural. What had she agreed to?
***
That afternoon back in Tannery Lane, free once more from her terrible radio pussy chain but weighed down by a hobble and slave chains to remind her of her place, Adam watched as Jane composed a kind of round robin letter to her friends and gallery contacts explaining that she had been given a surprise commission and that she’d be very busy on it for the next couple of months. When it was done even she had to admit it sounded plausible. She would be allowed to respond to individual replies and update her social network pages every few days. But otherwise communication with the outside world was strictly forbidden. With the front door and side gate locked and the keys in Adam’s possession, this house had become her prison.
Adam took charge of her laptop and phone again but he returned her camera. ‘While I make a start on my first article you’d better start gathering references. You don’t have to wait till tomorrow. Go out and get some pictures.’
‘Pictures of what, Master?’
‘Slave women at work of course. Why not start with Bolt and Cam? They’re out in the garden and I’m sure they’d love to be in your mural…’
***
Having cleaned the house and as it was a warm bright day, Bolt and Cam were now outside tidying the walled garden by hoeing and digging the flowerbeds. Jane shuffled outside to look at them.
They were wearing work boots, gardening gloves and sun hats, and their bodies shone with oil, but otherwise they were naked as normal. This strange contrast made it look like some set posed for a soft-core men’s magazine pictorial. Of course naturists might also indulge in nude gardening, Jane admitted, but not with slave collars and cuffs on, or the rings in their nipples and labia or their bizarre part names and numbers stamped indelibly on their skins. The strange thing was Bolt and Cam appeared so totally at ease and unconcerned, chatting and smiling even as they sweated, their bare buttocks straining and their breasts jiggling in the sun, as if it was perfectly natural. Perhaps it was now to them. How many years hade they been slaves, Jane wondered?
Whatever the truth of it, right now they were the nearest thing she had to equals and companions. Jane thought for a moment and then prepared a tray with a jug of iced fruit juice, glasses and a plate of biscuits, and took it out to them, reminding herself that thanks to the high garden walls nobody could see her like this. She had to shuffle carefully across the lawn in her hobble chain, realising it took practice to move in one as gracefully as Bolt and Cam did.
They accepted the drinks gratefully and they sat down together in the shade of an apple tree.
‘The mayor has given me a commission to paint a mural for the Town Hall,’ Jane explained. ‘I think he imagines it will change my opinion about Shackleswell, but anyway I’ve accepted. Now I’ve got to gather reference photographs so I can work up a design with multiple images in it. The Master… Adam… suggested I start with you gardening. Would that be all right?’
Bolt laughed. ‘You see, I said you’d be painting us yesterday! What’s a “mural”?’
‘A large picture painted on a wall. It’ll be a kind of collage of images from around the town.’
Cam said: ‘Of course we don’t mind. We’d love to be in a picture for the Town Hall.’
‘Even if it was obviously you in it looking like this?’
‘You mean collared and naked,’ Cam confirmed.
‘Yes.’
‘How long is it going to take you to get it straight in your head that we like living like this?’ Bolt said with amiable contempt.
‘Probably
never,’ Jane admitted. ‘I can’t imagine what that would be like. But this is something I’ve agreed to do and I want to do it properly. So if you don’t mind when you get back to work I’ll take a few pictures of you from different angles.’
Cam and Bolt were eager to comply and they were soon digging and hoeing while Jane moved around them taking pictures. At first Bolt kept grinning foolishly at her and striking poses until Jane told her just to forget she was there and behave naturally. Once they did so it really looked as if they were enjoying their work. Jane had to admit they had lovely well-toned bodies. The light was clear and good and sheen of oil and sweat on their skin helped emphasise their muscular definition. It was dripping off their ringed nipples. In fact she could actually smell their sweat mingled with another perfume that was curiously musky and intimate…
Jane saw the wetness about their shaven sex lips and turned away from them hastily, feeling acutely embarrassed. Oh God, her nipples were standing up so hard as well…
‘What’s wrong?’ Cam asked.
‘Nothing... it’s all right… I’ve got all the pictures I need now.’
Bolt said in her characteristically blunt way: ‘I think you could smell our pussies, that’s right isn’t it?’
‘Yes… I’m sorry.’
‘Why do you keep apologising for things when there’s nothing wrong?’ Bolt asked. ‘We were just getting hot thinking of you looking at us while we worked. That’s normal!’
‘If you’re going to try to paint real working-life in Irontown for slave women,’ Cam said, ‘then you’ve got to show how we can get turned on by it.’
‘And that’s even without us playing with our tools,’ Bolt said grinning. She turned her spade about and thrust its blade down between her legs and straddled it, rubbing her naked sex along its handle. ‘Go on; take a picture of me like this…’
Licking her lips, Jane took a picture.
Cam laughed and stood beside Bolt, hugging her while she straddled the shaft of her hoe.
Jane took another picture.
Then they kissed passionately.
Jane blushed. ‘I get embarrassed seeing women together,’ she admitted. ‘I had to… to pleasure one yesterday while I was in that terrible castigorium place in the Park. I mean with a dildo in my mouth… oh God that sounds gross… anyway I hated it.’
‘Well you’ll have to get used to girl on girl sex if you want to understand Irontown,’ Cam said. ‘We screw each other here all the time.’
‘Yeah, our lubrication is like the oil that keeps everything going,’ Bolt said. ‘Maybe that’s why we produce it so easily.’
‘But what about men?’ Jane asked.
‘Men are masters and we’re happy to serve and obey them because its right and we get pretty excited about it, but that’s different to the way we feel about each other,’ Cam said.
‘Well I’ll never feel that way,’ Jane said decisively.
‘Then we’ll have do something about that,’ Adam said from the shelter of the conservatory door where he had been listening to their conversation unobserved. ‘Come inside, all of you…’
***
Five minutes later Jane was sobbing and squirming and pleading with Adam: ‘Please, Master, don’t make me do this!’
‘You’ve got to learn what it feels like to be an Irontown slave, Brush, including lesbian sex. Even free women use their slaves for sex. It’s perfectly natural… ‘
She looked at Bolt and Cam. ‘Please don’t do this…’
‘They’re just obeying my orders, Brush,’ Adam said sternly. ‘Like good slave girls should. Don’t blame them. I’m your master and this is my decision. I’m going to break you of this silly outsider inhibition you’ve got…’
They were in the master bedroom. Jane was standing spread-eagled at the foot of the big bed facing towards its head end. Its side posts had been telescoped upwards and her up-stretched arms were hooked to its chains. Her legs were pulled wide and her ankles were similarly fastened to the lower ends of the posts. Cam was kneeling on the bed in front of her with her wrist cuffed behind her back, while Bolt stood by the foot of the bed with her hands also cuffed. Her labial padlock been removed and in its place were the side pins of a large rubber dildo, the double pronged base of which had been plugged into her vagina, jutting up from between her dark sex lips.
Adam stifled any further protests from Jane by pushed a bar gag between her lips and then he picked up his electric whip. She saw the look in his eye and the bulge in the front of his trousers. He was a young man with a naked older woman at his mercy and she knew then that nothing would stop him. This was the Irontown way. She felt her nipples throb and her pussy grow wetter.
‘You’ve also got to learn about pain and pleasure at the same time,’ he said. ‘Don’t touch her until I tell you,’ he told Cam and Bolt.
Jane’s eyes bulged as the whip hissed through the air and cracked across her buttocks. The electrified threads running through the braided rubber added a flash and crack to its impact. She shrieked as her flesh rippled and she jerked her hips forward, butting her thighs against the front rail of the bed.
He laid three more cuts across her backside and then moved round the side of the bed so he could attack the front of the body. The whip hissed through the air and coiled almost lovingly about the pale mounds her breasts. They distended inwards and then sprang back up again, her stiff burning nipples flicking the rings pierced through them.
Then he swung the lash across her stomach, approaching her pussy.
‘Well, Brush, do you want to have Bolt and Cam make love to you? They are very lovely young women. Why don’t you want to enjoy them?’
And suddenly Jane’s will to resist crumbled. What was she subjected herself to this pain for? She nodded frantically. Adam pulled the gag bar out from between her lips and she sobbed: ‘Yes… Please master… I want them to make love to me…’
‘Do want them to kiss you and your nipples and pussy and push a dildo up your backside?
‘Yes… yes Master… all that… my lips and pussy and bottom… all of it….’
Adam stepped back and told Cam and Bolt: ‘She’s all yours…’
Jane felt Bolt step up to her burning bottom for us. From moment her anus clenched as she feared the dildo would be thrust straight up into it, but Bolt knelt down and tenderly kissed her simmering cheeks. Then she stood and thrust of the dildo up into her. The same time Cam shuffled forward and kissed Jane on the lips passionately, sliding a tongue into her mouth. Their ringed nipples clinked together. Then Cam kissed her way down her throat and over chest and reached her hard nipples, taking them and their rings into her mouth one after another.
Bolt was pumping steadily up into her backside by now, making Jane’s buttocks swell as her rectum was filled. Cam worked her way down over Jane’s stomach to her naked sex, dipping her supple back and thrusting her buttocks out to keep her balance. Adam slapped and fondled her olive bottom cheeks and slid a finger between them. Cam sighed but she continued her assigned task. Adam smiled and stepped back…
Cam’s mobile lips reached Jane’s pussy and her tongue slid between her ringed labia. Jane gasped and shuddered and rolled up her eyes. Bolt’s pumping dildo up her bottom was pulled out of her for a moment against the suction of her clenching sphincter. Then it was driven back up inside her again even harder, driving her hips against Cam’s face.
And then Bolt joined Cam kneeling on the bed in front of Jane, helping to kiss her lips and breasts. But her rectum was still plugged!
Adam thrust his cock up inside her once again and reached about and clasped and squeezed her breasts until her nipples felt as if they would pop, only to be eagerly devoured by Bolt. Cam twisted round and lay on her back so that the Bolt straddled her while she could lift her head up and tongue and suck that Jane’s straining clitoris. Bolt raised her head from Jane’s throbbing nipples and kissed her full on the lips with hot passion. She was sandwiched between two women and one man,
impaled upon them with cock and tongues. She had never felt anything like it before.
And then her loins burst and sprayed her juices over Cam’s face. Her hips bucked and her body thrashed, rattling her chains, while she returned Bolt’s kiss with frantic passion while Adam’s cock spouted up her backside. And for a moment she knew what it was like to be part of something greater and more powerful than she was.
To be part of something… or to be totally dominated by it?
Was this the Irontown way?
Chapter Six
The next morning Adam took Jane out a bright and early on her first proper reference hunting expedition.
‘The Mayor said you should get to know the true industrial heritage of Shackleswell and there’s only one place to start: The Rowland Museum of Flesh and Iron. That of course is its Irontown name.’
When they heard where Jane was going Cam and Bolt said: ‘you’ll enjoy the museum. We sometimes serve there as demo girls.’
‘Demonstrating what?’ Jane asked.
They giggled. ‘You’ll see…’
In fact Jane was glad to be out of the house. She still felt acute shame at her behaviour of the previous afternoon. She had never been adventurous sexually, having only one intimate male-friend at the time. This had been a shocking introduction to multiple partners of both sexes taken simultaneously. It had been her first threesome – or was it a foursome? Whatever the count she had humiliatingly been made to beg for it and then had actually come with Bolt and Cam’s tongues inside her mouth and pussy and Adam’s cock up her rear. The fact that she had been given no choice, or that Bolt and Cam themselves appeared perfectly content and entirely un-embarrassed did not help.
‘Just learn to let go of your inhibitions and enjoy it as it happens,’ Cam said.
More unhelpfully Bolt pointed out: ‘But you came in a big way so you must have liked it really…’
Yes she had, but that didn’t magically make it all right.
To them what had transpired might have been an everyday and even enjoyable occurrence, but she was older than they were with more deeply embedded habits and principles. She could not adjust them literally overnight. And she did not want to! Unlike them she had a good independent life to lose if she surrendered herself to the perverse morals of this slave town. She could not just let that go.
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