Steampunk Romp Ch 02

Young Amanda, true to her word, returned each week with another portion of the payment due. Victor continued to personally demonstrate each of the machine's features on her and even added new ones in the intervening days. By the end of her next session there wasn't a shred of confusion as to why she'd been asked to return. As she straddled the machine for the second time and the glass dome lowered around her head, Victor's smile was almost disconcerting. She'd always attracted plenty of interest from men, but Victor with his unflappable manner and inadvertently condescending tone had seemed more indifferent to her than most. How wrong she had been...

Victor had other clients in the meantime, of course, but none so delightfully naughty as the little peeress. There were others more voluptuous, but those girls tended to have little tolerance for the more extreme experiences his machinery provided. Then there was the rare girl who took everything he threw at her with uncanny stoicism - but the real fun for him were the ones that gasped and squirmed like fish out of water and still demanded more. And in this category, Amanda Phoenix was queen.

Over the following weeks the coquettish noblewoman was subjected to greater pleasure than she'd ever known or imagined. Each time, she left the run-down store looking as though she'd run a marathon, attracting even more attention than a sultry young lady like her normally did. But she loved it. She loved how her endurance was challenged and pushed beyond its former limits; loved the naughty idea of walking through the streets bathed in the scent of her own arousal; loved the opportunity to nonchalantly shrug off her parents' inquiries when she arrived home smiling ear-to-ear.

But she became careless. One innocent evening she set out for Victor's humble store as she had countless times before, but unbeknownst to her, this time she had another woman in tow. Her mother saw her leave and decided to follow. She was careful to hang back a good distance, as her dazzling finery was turning more heads than she was comfortable with. But a woman of her stature had a responsibility to represent her station with grandeur, and she wasn't about to forego an opportunity to remind the common folk of their place just to investigate her daughter's mysterious activities.

At the other end of the cobbled street, she spied her girl entering a neglected tinkerer's store. The place looked filthy enough from the outside - she shuddered to think what stench would permeate the air within. Nevertheless, she waited a moment before following the girl in, quietly closing the front door behind her. This proved to be a bad idea - a steam lock hissed loudly into place as the door clicked shut. A second later she heard footsteps climbing the stairs from the basement, and a greasy-faced man appeared with a quizzical expression.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked he in a posh drawl.

"You have my daughter," she accused him coldly. "I saw her enter this hovel."

She could have sworn the man smirked slightly.

"Your daughter's name is Amanda, I gather?" he asked politely.

She didn't reply, but merely raised her eyebrows in expectation of a passable explanation for this shady liaison.

"Very well. Amanda is currently trialling a product she purchased from my store," he said smoothly. "I daresay she would object to being interrupted at this time, however."

"Her objections are meaningless! I am her mother - I demand to see her!" Her deep-rooted disgust of the grimy man boiled over into anger as he stood between her and her daughter. She all but spat the words in his face.

Now it was Victor's turn to raise his eyebrows. He had no doubt that this woman was who she claimed to be - she shared the same bright blue eyes, the same round face, the same button nose, and strutted about with the same arrogance Amanda had displayed the first time she'd walked through his door. But it probably wouldn't be a good idea to let them see each other. Unless...

For a moment he said nothing, then he replied quietly, "I will permit you to see her if you so wish, then." He led the impatient woman over to the corner of the room above the stairs, where a large gap allowed one to peer down into the basement.

"You may look," he said.

She placed her hands into some grooves on the railing and peered over the edge, craning her neck to see down the stairs. What she saw made her convulse with rage. There was her daughter, alright, stripped of all but her brassiere and pinned down on some hellish contraption by all manner of straps and shackles. Her face was wrought with fear as she stared back at her mother.

"You!" she shouted, pulling back to confront the disgusting man. At least, that's what she tried to do. She discovered her hands and neck were trapped, however, by a set of stocks that had lowered around her as she'd peered down the stairs.

"Get me out of this!" she screamed, her face reddening with fury.

"Now why should I do that?" he asked calmly. "I don't much fancy being yelled at by a judgemental simpleton."

"I- The nerve!" she exclaimed, mouthing other words that she perhaps had the good sense to withhold. Victor took this opportunity to start afresh with some introductions.

"Now, I don't believe I caught your name, Mrs Phoenix," he prompted.

"I am Lady Victoria Phoenix, and I will see you clapped in irons for this!" she snarled.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, milady. And I am honoured to share part of your name - for my own is Victor Ashworth, and it is my store into which you have most rudely burst and interrupted a private-"

"You were defiling my daughter!" Victoria proclaimed shrilly.

"Oh, au contraire, Mrs Phoenix. Your daughter has been defiled many times over by many individuals, but I assure you I am not among them."

Victoria gazed into her daughter's eyes and saw the truth within. For it was no longer fear that stared back, but defiance. This was the last she saw of Amanda's paralysed form, however, as at that moment a large metal box was placed over her head and tightened shut around her neck. Victoria Phoenix was thrown into darkness, her voice echoing around her as she tried to appeal to her daughter's misplaced pride. Her only identifying features now were the opulent garments on her back. But not for much longer.

Victor completed his new victim's restraints by binding her legs together before she thought to kick back. It was unfortunate that she'd chosen to come here, but now that he had the woman detained, a special plan for her was taking shape in his mind. Amanda would thank him profusely by the time he was through with her mother.

His plan was simple, but cunning: he would tease and titillate her until her screams of pleasure could be heard even through the box, and then release a newly-developed relaxant of his into her system to induce a state of oblivion and wipe the last few hours from her conscious memory. The aerosol was yet untested, but he was confident enough of its potency that he had no fear of being "clapped in irons", as the lady so bluntly put it.

The first part of the plan commenced surprisingly smoothly - for all her previous arrogance, Victoria put up a pathetic struggle as he stripped her of her finery. Perhaps she was still reeling from the revelation that her daughter was not the innocent maiden she'd believed. In any case, soon she joined her philandering daughter in nakedness with not even a bra concealing her modesty. No sense in being prudish when the lady wouldn't recall their encounter anyway.

But with the woman's nude body bent over and trapped in wooden stocks before him, Victor paused. All across Victoria's milky-white back were fresh bruise marks. He felt one, and she flinched under his touch. So maybe the baron wasn't the paragon the papers made him out to be. If these marks were his doing, then Richard Phoenix was a very poor husband indeed. Victor almost wished that he could help out the abused lady, but the best he could do at the moment was to give her an experience that would drown all her present concerns in bliss.

Fortunately he had just the thing. Building pleasure machines for the masses had left him a lot of spare parts with very specific purposes. There wasn't much else you could use a copper phallus for, after all, so he had cobbled together a few hand-held variants of the machine to which the lovely Amanda was strapped below. Speaking of which, he should probably check that she was still conscious down there... But she could wait.

The hand-held device was basically a vibrating pole, but it was a pole perfectly designed to fill a woman's orifices. Any of them, really, but in this position it would slide most easily into the lips of her soft pink privates. So that was where it went, and after wriggling it around to ensure it found a snug home, Victor activated the rumble mechanism with a pneumatic hiss.

Victoria's response was immediate. Her back arched and her legs bucked like a wild colt - he had to sit on them to keep her from hurting herself. As was often the case with his clients at this point, he couldn't tell if she was struggling with desperation or ecstasy, but it didn't really matter either way. Her body knew what it wanted, and soon enough the tell-tale sheen of arousal sprung forth on the lady's blushing pudendum. Her wild, undirected struggles transformed into deliberate oscillations around the shaft buried within her.

He reached out for her unsupported breasts, tweaking her nipples as she wriggled her hips in a rhythmic motion. For a woman with a mature daughter, her body was still in remarkably good shape. He'd imagined her bust would have been greatly exaggerated by the brutal corset women of her stature felt compelled to wear, but instead he was pleasantly surprised. It might have been due to her bent-over position in the wooden stocks, but her chest put Amanda's slender figure to shame.

As he waited patiently for the woman's inevitable climax, Victor ran his fingers along her trembling nether lips. He nudged the small nub at their parting, and immediately Victoria bucked beneath him as though electrocuted. He rubbed the nub again and incited the same behaviour. Finding this most intriguing, he made a mental note to investigate the same phenomenon with some other clients. He may have discovered a more effective sexual stimulant than mere penetration - exactly what his fledgling business needed to make an impression in his clients' minds.

Not much was going through Victoria's mind at that moment, however. Her mind had shut down the moment Victor had touched her sensitive nub, and now only waves of pleasure flowed through her boxed head as her love canal contracted around the warm copper shaft inside her. In the back of her mind something broke - an antiquated conception of sexuality, perhaps, or some invisible barrier she'd erected long ago to prevent herself revelling in forbidden lusts. It was something that only the shameful pleasure of being debased and sexually humiliated by a stranger could have dispelled. But whatever it was, Victoria was too absorbed in her fleeting moment of pure bliss to notice or lament its departure.

This marked the end of Victor's need for the noblewoman's sexual gratification. There was no mistaking her moans now - they wafted from the box like steam from a pressurised cylinder. He'd only begun to break her in, but henceforth her sensuality would likely snowball of its own accord. Still, as he withdrew the steaming shaft from its sheath and beheld the sad opening left behind, he had the sympathy to fill it once more with his own fingers and stimulate the lascivious woman to a final orgasm.

Now her bare form hung loose in the stocks, heavy breathing barely audible from inside the anonymising metal box. Victor walked around to her front and turned a ratchet on the side of the box, releasing a small dose of his special aerosol into her dwindling air supply.

Leaning close, he said in a clear voice that would echo around her metal prison, "I hope you've enjoyed yourself here, Victoria. When you wake up, you will be at home with no memory of this evening's events. Your subconscious mind will remember what your conscious one does not, however - you may find yourself with an insatiable desire to feel fire in your loins such as your husband has never provided. You may think this desire unnatural or perverse and even rebuke yourself for entertaining such thoughts, but at the same time you will crave it like an itch that can never be scratched to satisfaction. But worry not, for perhaps your daughter will permit you use of her new machine if you ask politely."

She didn't take this news well - the thrashing began again. But soon her movements slowed until finally she fell lifeless in the stocks' embrace. Victor waited a few minutes more to be sure she was gone, then unlocked the metal box and stocks and pulled her limp form down onto the floor. Her eyes were closed; her elegantly-arranged hair a mess; her lipstick smeared on her nose, of all places. Her lips were slightly parted, moving to some meaningless chant as she murmured in her induced sleep.

Over the next few minutes, the professor bathed the woman and clothed her and left her propped up in a chair. He was becoming quite efficient at this sort of after-care - so many of his clients needed it after a session with his machines. He then descended into the basement, where the young Amanda was held in a state nearing delirium. Smiling, he deactivated the monstrous machine on which she sat and brushed away a few stray strands of hair from her sweat-lined face.

"That was... my mother?" she asked breathlessly, her features plagued with worry.

He nodded. "I took care of it. If you walk her home and never mention this evening again, then neither will she."

"Thank you," she said, beaming. Then she thought about his words for a moment and queried, "And if I mention it to her?"

"Well, let's just say her reaction might not be quite what you expect," replied Victor, smiling mischievously.

He looked longingly at the immobilised girl. He'd have liked to watch her struggle some more, but she should really get going before her mother started regaining her faculties. With a sigh, he unlocked all the restraints and helped her off the upright phallus that had anchored her in place for so long. She collapsed into his arms, grasping his shoulder for support. It was a few minutes before she was able to wash off and retrieve her garments, then she joined her mother for the tiresome trek home.

Victor was left reclining at his workbench alone, reflecting on what a peculiar evening it had been. It was the first time he'd had two girls in his care at once, let alone both mother and daughter. Though calling Lady Victoria a girl was a tad generous, all females younger than he were juvenile in his eyes. His machines certainly didn't care about age, and in his experience girls of all ages and classes squirmed the same way.

Next week would be the last time Amanda was obliged to visit, but he was currently working on a design that should lure her and many others to his front door. A machine that so attractively splays and displays the fairer sex was hard to top, but he had an idea that would double his market size by appealing to every husband in the area. Like the pleasure machine Amanda so enjoyed, it would immobilise its user completely, but with a crucial difference.

His new design was for a full suit of mechanised plating. A mech suit. The lucky lady inside would be perfectly comfortable, if a little warm, but otherwise entirely unable to move. The suit, however, would be fully controlled by a hand-held instrument in the hands of the woman's partner. He would have access to internal and external functions alike - whether he thought his wife was deserving of pain or pleasure, he could grant it. But he'd also be able to manipulate the mech suit to walk anywhere or lift anything, doubling as an invaluable home appliance. A tool for the men, a pleasure device for the ladies. It was a perfect fit.

And the best part of this design? The plating concealing the girl's face, chest, legs, and just about every other part was fully detachable. Watching her expressions would be the best part, after all.

So Victor Ashworth had a good chance yet of becoming the distinguished inventor he'd always dreamed of being. It was going to take a lot of work to realise his next design, but the final product would bring all the more pleasure for his efforts. It was going to be a good year.

***

I hope you enjoyed this follow-up to Amanda's story. What would you like to see in subsequent chapters?