The city streets were even more shocking than the station.

Firstly, it confirmed Beatrice's fears that her provincial clothing was quite out of date and unfashionable. Most of the women of her age were wearing full skirts in bright colours with tight waisted tops. A lot didn't even have hats on. Secondly, there was the amount of bare female flesh on display...

Quite apart from the number of naked chattel slaves being led along on leashes by their owners, there were big department stores which had demonstration women in their windows, most often naked and usually restrained by some means, advertising different products. She saw a naked hobbled woman wearing only a brief maid's pinny, using a range of proprietary cleaning products who was busily mopping a section of tiled kitchen flooring.

After a few seconds of gawping at her in disbelief, Beatrice turned her eyes away, which made Clarice laugh.

'It may shock you, but it did make you look at first, didn't it? That's the idea. Everyone likes to look at a pretty, naked women. Not just men, I mean, that goes without saying, but even other women. Even those people looking in disapproval, still look. That's how advertising works.'

They turned into a side street of smaller shops. And there was one with a sign above its window: The Pink Kitten Chastisement Shop.

'If you decide to become a demo model, you will not necessarily work here, but there are branches all over the city and this is a convenient one for you to try the job out,' Clarice explained.

In its window was a slowly turning wheel, more than head high, to which a naked woman was bound. She had spiked weights clipped to her nipples which slowly swung about as she turned, tracing patterns in her flesh and stretching her breasts out and downwards and sideways and then, when she was inverted, towards her shoulders. A pair of electrically powered spanking paddles had been set out on either side of the wheel that beat her regularly. Some timing mechanism caused the wheel to pause as she was upside down, with her spread legs pointing to the ceiling. A vibrating rubber phallus descended on a telescopic arm, passing between her shaven sex lips and stretching them wide, and then pumped vigorously away inside her. It then gave a shudder as if ejaculating, and what looked like milk welled up out of her cleft and trickled down her naked body. Then the wheel resumed its rotation.

Beatrice shook her head in wonder, realising she had been gaping at the spectacle for several minutes.

'You see, it pays to advertise,' Clarice said. 'Let me show you around inside...'

The interior of the shop was like a temple full of offerings to every wicked and perverted God of pain and bondage. Its walls and stands were packed with rubber phalluses, chains, canes, cuffs, straps, masks, restraint harnesses, yoke bars, collars and many devices whose function Beatrice could not even guess. Many were made in a variety of the bright colours, making it almost looked like a toy shop. In a way they were toys for adults, of course.

Beatrice could not pretend that it did not offend her provincial sensibilities. And yet there were customers in the shop looking about it without any sign of guilt or embarrassment. City ways and sensibilities. She was the odd one out here...

Clarice was having a few words with the person standing behind the shop counter. Beatrice continued to look about her.

Beside the counter was a row of half a dozen shallow alcoves lined with angled mirrors. Two of them were occupied by naked women. They wore bright pink collars, and their hands were cuffed above their heads and hung over ceiling hooks. The mirrors showed their bodies from all sides. A sign over the alcoves read: Please note that there is a nonreturnable fee for using demonstration models.

Clarice, who seem to be known to the proprietor of the shop, came back from her discussion with something in a colourful box. She led Beatrice along to the back of the shop where there was a row of blue curtained cubicles with another sign over them that read: Demonstration Booths. At the moment, two of them seemed to be occupied and some odd sounds were coming from them. Clarice led Beatrice into one of the empty ones and pulled the curtain across, shutting out the rest of the shop. The cubicle was bare except for a small table with an adjustable tilting padded top that was bolted to the floor, some full-length mirrors, a row of hooks and a paper towel dispenser.

Clarice took the item she had brought with her out of its box. It seemed to have three prongs or rods of bright red rubber jutting out of it, which resolved themselves into one forked branch and another slightly stubby one with a cupped pad about its root. There were also straps to fasten it in some way. The thing made Beatrice's eyes boggle.

'Don't think or worry, just give this a go,' Clarice advised her. 'And as you do, remind yourself that if you can do this, then you can live in Sadoville and send good money back home. You decide how you want to respond, remember. Now take off your clothes...'

As if in a dream, Beatrice stripped herself naked. Verizon had warned her this might happen, but she never imagined it would be so soon after stepping off the train.

Clarice looked her up and down approvingly. 'You are very lovely,' she said sincerely. 'Any shop would be delighted have you in their window. Anyway, now, you're a demo girl and I'm a customer wondering if this is what I want to buy. You've got to respond passionately to it...'

To Beatrice's astonishment, Clarice undid her skirt and casually hung it up on a hook, leaving herself naked between her waist and stocking tops. She still had a good body, and her pubic mound was smooth shaven like the girl in the shop window. Its cleft already looked wet and engorged.

Smiling cheerfully, Clarice spread her legs and slid the user's end of the phallic device inside her and fitted its straps around her waist. This left its fearsome twin prongs jutting up outwards from her groin. Then she pushed Beatrice backwards until she sprawled over the edge of the padded table. Clarice caught her under the knees and pulled her legs up and wide, so that her calves were resting on her shoulders. Beatrice was startled. No woman has ever treated her like this with such brazen self-confidence.

The twin prongs of the phallus rubbed against Beatrice's cleft and the pucker of her anus.

'Now, you're a demo slave,' Clarice said. 'Show me how good it is!'

And thrust with her hips and rammed the thing into Beatrice.

Her eyes bulged, and she sobbed as she found both her passageways filled simultaneously.

She had never been used like this before. She was being penetrated by plugs of rubber, one of them in a most unnatural manner. It was degrading and terrifying and disgusting and she would have run away, except that she was paralysed by shame. And then she saw Clarice's smiling face framed between her knees filling with pleasure.

She was enjoying doing this to her! How was that possible? Then Beatrice found that she was responding to the rubber shafts pumping and sucking away within her. Her nipples were swelling and hardening on her wobbling breasts, which swayed back and forth with Clarice's thrusts. These strange sensations literally being imposed upon her were overwhelming her natural reservations.

Clarice reached around and clasped Beatrice's breasts and squeezed them, and twisted and stretched and pinched her nipples, giving her a fresh thrill. Beatrice's thoughts tumbled in confusion. A woman was handling her roughly like a man might, which must be wrong, and yet it did not feel like it. It was so new, so dangerous, so... exciting!

There was a strange tingling in her loins and a liquid warmth growing in them by the second, even as her lower stomach rose and fell with the intrusion of the rubber plugs within it. Her secret little button of flesh that normally hide modestly in her cleft was also swelling and hardening. A flush of pleasure flowed through her, making her breakout in a sudden sweat. She grasped the edges of the table in panic. What was happening to her? She felt as if she was going to burst...

And then it seemed as if she did! She felt her lower stomach contract and a gush of fluid spurted out of her in a fine mist, drenching Clarice's belly and thighs. Her head spun as it filled with a hot surging thrill of delight that seemed to have everything good wrapped up within it.

As she teetered on the edge of fainting, Beatrice wondered if that what they called an "orgasm"?

Clarice gave a brief shudder and then slumped forward between Beatrice's legs, panting loudly. After a few moments she looked up at Beatrice and smiled.

'Well... I'd buy one of these if it did that to another women,' she said huskily. 'I think you're a natural. If you ask for a job in a Chastisement Shop, I can guarantee that you'll be offered one.'

Still wrapped in her inexplicably warm cocoon of delight, which felt very much as if she'd had too much wine to drink, Beatrice struggled to think clearly. She could not possibly do such work. It was shameful and degrading and unnatural and against her every instinct. And yet she needed the money...

And then Clarice tipped the balance. 'Just remember; your people never need to know what kind of shop you're working in.'