Sadoville 1

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Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 47,400
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It is sometime in a 1950’s era that might have been, in an isolated continental metropolis known as Sadoville, where the rules of society are very different… Danielle Gironde, an innocent young woman from the provinces, has come to Sadoville to search for her missing sister Beatrice. But the great city is not what Danielle was expecting. Here poor women desperate to find work may be kept as naked, hobbled serving maids and if they break the law they may be compelled to clean streets naked or be wired up naked in the middle of the street to serve as living traffic signals. And all women, rich or poor, between 18 and 40 are subject to the domination of the Defilement Lottery. Every hour of the day and night a draw is made. If a woman’s number comes up and she can be caught by a licensed lottery inquisitor within that hour, even if she is a newly married bride or the daughter of a rich house, then she can be freely used both physically and sexually and nobody has the right to prevent it. Every woman is a potential target and the humblest citizen has a chance of defiling the finest lady, if he can catch her. All this Danielle must endure while searching for Beatrice. But then she finds herself responding to the relentless humiliations of Sadoville life in a most unexpected way…

Simon Grail mixes a powerful erotic domination story with an alternative world that is the product of his fertile imagination.

Sadoville 1
0 Ratings (0.0)

Sadoville 1

Fiction4All

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 47,400
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Excerpt

‘Can I see your ticket please, Miss?’ the inspector asked Danielle.
He was a plump man with a toothbrush moustache and silver fob watch chain strung across the ample waistcoat front of his dark blue North Eastern Railways uniform.
Danielle Gironde flinched in surprise. She had been staring out of the window at the countryside rolling by, occasionally veiled in wispy wraths of steam and smoke from the chugging engine. They had only left Nantivy ten minutes ago and she was already beyond all the familiar landmarks she recognised. And it would be three hours more before they reached Sadoville.
‘Sorry, Sir…yes…I’ve got it here…’
Danielle fumbled in her pocket and handed over her ticket for him to clip. As he did so she was aware of his eyes falling on her metropolitan identity tag which hung from a black ribbon tied about her neck and rested on her blouse. It was a disk of metal the size of a commemorative coin. Its outward face was glazed in blue enamel over an engraving of the city coat of arms, while on the reverse, surrounded by scrolls and flourishes, was stamped her national identity number. By law all women in Sadoville between the ages of eighteen and forty had to wear and display a blue ID tag in public at all times. The reason was deeply unpleasant and something she did not want to think on, but it was one of the few facts she was certain of about her country’s capital city. She had thought she had better get used to wearing it but perhaps she should have waited until they reached the city limits. Why was he staring at it for so long? Could he tell it was a forgery? She was sure it looked perfect.
‘You’re travelling alone to Sadoville?’ he enquired amiably as he clipped the strip of card.
‘Oh, yes,’ Danielle said, then added a hasty lie: ‘But my Uncle will be meeting me at Central Station.’
He smiled. ‘I see. Well, have a safe journey.’ He handed back her ticket and continued along the carriage.
Danielle breathed a sigh of relief, clutching her small suitcase which lay on the seat beside her for reassurance. That and the clothes she wore were her only possessions. Armed with them plus an old street map of Sadoville she had found in a second-hand bookshop in Nantivy and a small purse of money, she: an eighteen-year old country girl, was going to enter the great metropolitan state with its own laws and customs and try to find one person amongst its five million inhabitants. She knew it was madness and her stomach was knotting up in terror at the thought of it … but she had to try.
Outside were checkerboard fields that seemed to stretch to the horizon interspersed by low hills clad in dark forests. She saw a sign by the trackside go by marking the boarder between Morso and Emiene, its neighbouring province. Now she had left the land she had lived in all her life.
‘Please accompany me to the guard van, Miss,’ said a quiet voice.
It was the ticket inspector again. He had finished his round of the carriages and was on his way back to the rear of the train. He was bending over Danielle’s seat speaking softly so none of the other passengers in the half-full carriage could hear.
‘W… what do you mean?’ Danielle stammered.
‘Unless want everybody to know you’re wearing a false ID tag? I’ll take care of your bag…’ And he picked up her case and continued on along the carriage, leaving Danielle no choice but to hurry after him, quaking with fear.
After passing through three carriages they reached the guard’s van. It was a big draughty compartment divided by sets of posts and bars in into bins in which were stacked assorted sacks and cartons. It had large sliding doors set in its sides for goods access and it creaked and rattled with the motion of the train. Close to the communicating door was a small desk built against the wooden wall with a note board and a pigeonhole rack above it and a couple of stools before it. One was occupied by the train guard. He was thinner than the inspector but had a larger moustache with waxed tips. As they entered he was chewing on a sandwich whilst reading a newspaper. Beside him coffee was brewing on a tiny hotplate, filling the air with an unexpectedly homely aroma.
‘I’ve got another one trying to sneak into the city,’ the inspector said, putting Danielle’s case down in a corner.
The guard looked Danielle up and down with uncomfortably close interest. ‘They never learn, do they? Still, she’s prettier than most.’
‘P… please. How did you know my tag was a fake?’ Danielle asked miserably.
The inspector said: ‘The engraving of the crest is not bad but the colour of the glaze is off.’ He took hold of her medallion and turned it over. ‘This scrollwork’s not good enough either. You can’t just stamp your ID number on the back, put a few swirls around it and hope to get away with it. This might fool a member of the public but any official will spot it right away if they get close enough.’
Daniel felt sick, thinking what the tag had cost her. Not in monetary terms but her pride. It had seemed like a worthwhile sacrifice at the time but how quickly it had been rendered useless. How hopelessly naive she had been!
‘Why did you take the risk, girl?’
‘I have to get to go to Sadoville because…’ then she hesitated. If she said any more now she might cause even more trouble with the authorities and not just for herself. ‘It’s very important, that’s all,’ she finished lamely.
‘Is it really?’ the inspector said. ‘Well what are we to do with you? Regulations say we’ve got to hold you in custody until we can turn you over to the city police. You see there’s this little cage here for troublesome passengers…’ He indicated a narrow upright cage of riveted metal straps tucked into the corner opposite the desk on the other side of the communicating door, which she had not yet noticed. ‘They’ll take you to court and you’ll probably get a naked flogging and a month’s hard labour for forging official insignia.’
Danielle shuddered. ‘Do… do they really punish women like that in Sadoville?’
‘They sell tickets to women’s floggings,’ the inspector said. ‘You’d get a sell-out crowd.’
Danielle cringed.
‘But that means filling in forms and waiting for the police so we can hand you over,’ the guard added. ‘Maybe it would be easier if we forget we ever saw you and let you get off at the other end like everything was normal. Simpler for all of us. Would you like that?’
Hope briefly fluttered in Danielle’s heart. ‘Yes, Sir.’
‘But that would mean you getting away with breaking the law,’ the inspector countered. ‘Forging official tokens is a serious offence. That still has to be punished. Letting you go would be a dereliction of our duty. You do see that, don’t you?’
Her heart sank again. ‘Y… yes, Sir.’
‘So we’ve got what they call a quandary here. How can we keep life simple for all of us but at the same time have justice served by seeing you punished? We’ve got a few hours before we reach Sadoville. It gets pretty boring in between stops. Can you think of a better way of spending them than filling in arrest forms?’
Danielle’s stomach knotted as she felt the trap closing about her. She may have been naïve but she was not stupid. They knew reaching Sadoville was important to her for some reason and that gave them power over her. She licked her dry lips. ‘Perhaps… both of you could punish me, Sir?’
‘Do you really want us to do that?’
There was no going back now. ‘Yes, Sir.’
‘To shame and humiliate you?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘To cause you pain and make you cry?’
‘Y… yes, Sir.’
‘Beg us. Do it properly. On your knees. And say what a bad girl you’ve been.’
Sick and trembling, Danielle went down on her knees, feeling the scarred boards of the wagon floor scraping her skin, and put her hands together as though she was in church. ‘P… please punish me, Sirs. I… I’ve done a bad thing and deserve to be humiliated and made to cry.’
‘As you ask so nicely, we’ll do that, girl,’ the inspector said with a grin.
‘And you can begin by taking all your clothes off,’ the guard said. ‘We like seeing pretty women stripped to the buff. You don’t have to pretend you’re enjoying it. In fact it’s more fun if you don’t. This is a punishment after all. And there’s nothing like seeing a pretty girl in the buff all tearful to make you feel better about yourself.’
Numbly, as though it was happening to somebody else, Danielle got to her feet and took off her hat, which was a straw boater tied with a yellow ribbon band. She hung it on a rack of hooks on the back of the door beside the railwaymen’s top coats.
She was dressed in a grey woollen straight jacket and knee-length skirt over a white blouse with a wide-collared décolletage. With trembling fingers she pulled her jacket off and hung it up. Taking a deep breath, feeling her cheeks beginning to burn while her stomach clenched, she undid her skirt and stepped out of it. She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off, revealing she was wearing a cream chemise and frilled panties. She wore no stockings but white ankle socks and sensible flat black shoes.
She reached down for her shoes but the inspector said: ‘No, leave them on. It’ll make the rest of you look barer that way.’
Biting her lip, Danielle drew her chemise up over her head.
‘I’ll have that,’ the guard said, holding a hand out. Awkwardly, with her arms crossed over her now naked breasts, Danielle handed her chemise to him.
Still futilely trying to cover herself, with one hand she reached down and wriggled her panties off over her feet.
‘I’ll take them,’ the inspector said.
She handed them to him. He scrunched them up and then to her horror sniffed them, smiling, while she stood there naked except for her socks and shoes, with her hands clasped over her private parts, trembling before the amused gaze of the two railwaymen.
‘Put your hands behind your head and turn around slowly,’ the inspector commanded. ‘Show yourself off properly…’
Stifling a whimper, Danielle obeyed, displaying herself before them.
She had a shoulder-length mane of wavy light blonde hair, pale skin and a pleasant open face with a scattering of freckles over her straight neat nose, upper cheeks and shoulders. Her eyes were pale blue with light crescent brows while her trembling, down-curled lips revealed even white teeth. Full smooth pale breasts jutted out from a slender chest. They had a pneumatic convexity to their upper slopes and were tipped by prominent brown conical nipples. Her waist was tight and her belly under her navel was gently domed. Her legs and buttocks were shapely but sturdy, like many provincial girls. She had a sparse growth of golden hair over her pubic mound, exposing a neat cleft from which the sliver of an inner sex tongue pouted.
‘Very nice!’ the guard declared, after a full minute’s appreciative contemplation of Danielle’s body.
‘Best yet,’ the inspector agreed.
The two men got up and walked around Danielle as she stood exposed and trembling between them. They were both so old, more than twice her age, and she was so very young. She could smell the sweat and odour of stale coal smoke impregnating their uniforms. Then they began to touch her. Their work-hard hands stroked her trembling breasts and pinched her nipples, and ran down the smooth supple curve of her back to her buttocks. They circled her navel and then slid down across her thin fuzz of pubic hair and ran through the soft mouth of her sex lips.
‘Very nice,’ the guard said. ‘Now you’re going to beg us to screw you!’
She had nerved herself to accept pain and shaming but that was a horror she could not face. ‘No… please no not that…’ Daniel begged. ‘Anything but that!’
‘Not a virgin, are you?’
‘No… but it was awful… it hurts!’ It had only happened to her once and it had scared and disgusted her. It had been the price she had paid for her useless ID tag.
‘It might at first but you’ll get used to it,’ the guard said. ‘If you want to stay in Sadoville any time you’ll have no choice. A pretty girl like you will have her legs spread one way or another soon enough. We’ll be doing you a favour, really.’
‘No…’
She attempted to slip out from between them but they caught hold of her wrists and twisted her arms up behind her back, forcing her head down. They were far too strong for her. They could do anything they wanted with her...
‘It looks like you need a bit of softening up,’ the inspector said. ‘Fortunately we’ve got a special way of doing that…’
They dragged her struggling feebly over to the sliding goods doors in the side of the wagon. There were chains with hooks on their ends hanging down from the top inner corners of the pair of doors.
Pulling her arms out and upward they wrapped the chains several times about her wrists and passed the hooks back through the links, securing them in place. Danielle whimpered as the rough iron pinched her flesh. There were more chains and hooks bolted to the lower corners of the doors. These they wrapped about her ankles. This left her facing the join of the doors with her arms pulled up above her head and her nipples brushing their wooden panels. The railwaymen undid the heavy latch that secured the doors and then heaved them apart.
Danielle screamed in terror as a blast of rushing wind from the wagon’s motion howled and tore at her bare body, suddenly stretched as wide as a starfish in the open doorway. It sucked at her, bowing her outwards and swirling her hair, its cold rush making her nipples stand up and ruffling her thin pubic pelt. Her breasts were jiggling in the blast while cold fingers seemed to pry about her buttock cleft and her sex lips. The chains jerked tight, holding her back as she teetered in the open doorway. A waft of smoke from the engine stung her already streaming eyes. She blinked away tears and shook her head, peering out fearfully through screwed-up eyes at the country rushing past her. She did not want to look at it but, mortified by the thought of even more shame being heaped upon her; she had to know if anybody could see her exposed like this.
But all she saw were trees. They were passing through thick woods without any sign of human habitation.
‘We’ll bring you in when you promise to beg us to screw you,’ the inspector shouted over the rush of air.
‘No! Please don’t ask me to do that!’ Danielle sobbed.
‘Then we’ll have to encourage you…’
Twisting her head round Danielle saw the guard had a black metal pole in his hand. It was really two tubular rods one inside the other with holes down their sides and a heavy pin to lock them together. On its slimmer end was a prong of black rubber with at its base a metal rod the size of a large nail set at right angles to it. The guard placed the lower end of the assembly into a notch in the floor and then angled its upper end towards her bottom.
‘No!’ Danielle shrieked.
The inspector took hold of her haunches and pried her buttocks apart while his companion extended the rods, sliding the rubber prong up into her reluctant anus. She fought to repel it for a moment but the force was too great. It popped inside her anal ring and slid up her rectum until the small rod across its base jammed against the mouth of her anus, lying along her buttock cleft. It felt huge and unnatural inside her.
Then the guard began to expand the rods, pushing the rubber phallus hard up into her. The pressure forced her hips outwards, bowing her body and exposing it to even more of the rushing wind of the train’s passage. Oh Dear God, she thought, what if the passengers in the nearest coach looked back out of its windows. Could they see her?
The guard locked the rod in place, stretching her whole body against its bonds. Her arms and legs were drawn back by the chains that were cutting into her wrists and ankles. She was standing on tip toe to ease the strain, swaying perilously with the wind and the rocking of the train. The motion made the rubber rod inside her churn about, feeling almost as though it was going to burst through into her front passages, causing sensations she had never felt before inside her.
The inspector consulted his watch. ‘Next station coming up in fourteen minutes. Do you want us to go through it with you on show like this?’
‘No!’ Danielle whimpered.
‘Then beg us to screw you.’
‘I can’t… I can’t… please don’t ask me.’
‘If you’re going to Sadoville you’ve got to learn it’s not about what you want. We’re being easy on you.’
‘No!’
‘Then we’ll have to convince you…’
They had bamboo canes tucked behind their desk. They stood behind her and took a buttock cheek each. She yelped and sobbed as they swished and cracked down across her rear, sending rippled through her flesh even as they set her bottom on fire. As they beat her she jerked and twisted her hips in a futile effort to evade the blows, but this only twisted the rubber prong in her rectum even harder, stirring strange feelings in her loins.
Her pussy lips were becoming hot and slippery while her nipples were throbbing ready to burst. A strange pressure was building up inside her. It was all too terrible and confusing. She had never felt so much pain. The woods were thinning out and she saw fields and distant lanes and farmhouses. If anybody should see her like this…
With a sob she was overwhelmed and lost control of her bladder. Hot urine spurted in a jet from her pussy only to be caught by the blast of the wind and splattered across her thighs, making a raindrop spray stain across the side of the goods wagon. Her pee had marked railway property. She screwed up her tear-filled eyes, her cheeks burning with deepest shame. How could she have done such a things?
The men laughed at her humiliating display and lowered their canes.
‘Well?’ the inspector demanded.
What did it matter any more, Danielle thought wretchedly? She could sink no lower. She was soiled beyond redemption now. All that was left was sparing herself a few additional shreds of public disgrace.
‘Yes! Have me! Screw me! F… fuck me! Put your things up me! Just take me in… please!’
They pulled the terrible rod out of her bottom, which clenched obscenely tight about it as it slid from her. They slid the doors to and latched them tight. They unchained her and half carried her across to the desk and laid her trembling, windblown-body face-down over the stained top of one of the stools.
They had straps ready to bind her arms and legs tight against its splayed legs, so that her head and breasts overhung one end and her haunches the other. She saw the fronts of their trousers bulging as they handled her and knew what they contained. The spread of her legs opened her thighs, exposing the soft split peach of her vulva below her simmering buttocks. It was wet with her urine and a slippery exudation the wind and the rod up her behind seemed to have brought forth from her depths.
The men unbuttoned their flies and freed their engorged penises so she could see them. She knew men could do this to their parts but she had never seen them up close before. They looked grotesque and comic and terrifying at the same time.
First the inspector and then the guard took turns pushing their swollen manhood’s up inside her. They felt huge and frighteningly alive. Their thighs ground against her sore bottom as they thrust into her. The slippery discharge she had produced helped ease their passage a little.
The stool creaked and she groaned softly as she took the second and third penises ever to penetrate her within her body…
Mr Hauser the jeweller had been the first. He had demanded his payment for making her fake city tag from her as she was bent over a workbench in the back of his tiny shop. Although she never saw it enter her, his veined penis had been the one that breached her and had taken her maidenhead. He had rammed into her with frightening force and she had cried. Eventually after what seemed an age of pounding away he had spurted his thin seed into her. Then he had pulled out as though suddenly ashamed, leaving her hurt and confused. That was all her virginity had been worth: a poor forgery of an ID tag. But it was all she had to offer. Almost all her money had gone to buy the ticket to Sadoville…
And now she was being hurt again. Did all women have to endure this?
The guard was pumping away inside her when a strange thing happened. The hurt was being masked by something swelling and growing within her, a hot delightful tension she wanted to coddle and at the same time burst. It was getting bigger and tighter and she could not hold it and it was going to spill out and… ahhhh!

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