Ye Olde Water Faire – 04 The Ferris Wheel
Ye Olde Water Faire – 04 The Ferris Wheel
| Sex Story Author: | The_Technician |
| Sex Story Excerpt: | It will be her way of showing that she loves me and truly submits to only me.” “Very well,” |
| Sex Story Category: | BDSM |
| Sex Story Tags: | BDSM, Cruelty, Discipline, Domination/submission, Exhibitionism, Fiction, Humiliation, Male Domination, Slavery |
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
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After I finished cleaning up, puta and I ran over to the Ferris Wheel so she could get tied on. She called it getting hooked up, but what they used was more or less standard restraints.
Naturally, she was the first slave there. She was practically bouncing up and down with expectation. You would think she were being given some great treat rather than being tied onto a wheel of pain. Well, having said that, I guess for puta they are the same thing.
She was led up onto a platform that had a section that extended out from it like those boarding ramps they use for planes except it was totally open. The floor of the boarding ramp was pushed right up against the Ferris Wheel. It bounced a little under the combined weight of Tweedledee and Tweedledum, but it seemed sturdy enough to handle them.
They turned puta around and had her stand with her back against the Wheel and put her hands over her head. Then they wrapped the cloth restraints around her wrists. All of Herr Dunkler’s restraints are cloth of one sort or another. I guess leather wouldn’t work too well with all the water.
Once her wrists were tightly secured, someone rotated the Wheel just a little bit so that she was stretched up tight and almost on her tiptoes. The outer portion of the Ferris Wheel is covered in a heavy steel mesh of some sort, so she was drawn back against that with her body bent back a little in a bow. Tweedledee– or was it Tweedledum– made sure puta’s body was tight against the mesh and then used a wide cloth strap to hold her securely in place. The Wheel rotated more until puta’s feet were at about the twin’s waist. Then they used slightly larger cloth restraints to hold her ankles tightly in place.
Both twins then stepped all the way back onto the platform and they pulled the boarding ramp back just a little. The Ferris Wheel rotated until puta was on the opposite side hanging upside down. Then one of the twins actually spoke. “Next!” he said in a really booming bass voice.
Someone– evidently her Master– pushed the hairless black girl forward. She was saying “No, please, Master, don’t make me do this,” but there was pussy juice running down the insides of both legs. She was probably almost as big a painslut as puta but she evidently wouldn’t admit that to herself… or anyone else.
They used the same method to strap her in place. The only difference was that when she was completely in place and they rotated the Wheel, they backed the ramp farther away. I hadn’t watched the slaves get put in place on the Wheel before, so I wondered why they did that, but then puta came rotating past the end of the ramp. They kept rotating the Wheel until she was totally past and there was a space for another slave to be restrained. The Wheel can hold eight slaves, so puta’s hands were almost at the top when she stopped.
The next slave up was a flaming redhead that I had seen walking around the Faire with a dark-complected Master. Her lily white skin had looked even whiter standing next to him. Her bright pink nipples were hard, but I don’t know if that was from excitement or fear. The fiery orange triangle between her legs made it hard to tell if she was wet. I am sometimes jealous that redheads, especially the bright orange ones, are lucky and almost always get to keep their pubic hair. Men must like that cunt-on-fire look. I really like keeping myself smooth all over, and most men really like it. But I’m still jealous that redheads have more of a choice.
This red head probably didn’t think she was lucky. She looked really afraid and was shaking all the while they strapped her in place. She kept looking down and the crowd and crying, “Please, Master, I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” Either the Ferris Wheel ride was meant to be a punishment for her or she needed to role play the bad slave in order to get off on the pain. You really can’t tell until they start screaming. If it’s screams of passion, they get off on the pain. If not, well, the Ferris Wheel is definitely a punishment for some slaves.
After she was in place, they rotated her and puta over to the other side and brought up the empty space below the black girl. A naked shemale was pushed forward and quickly strapped in place. He didn’t say anything and it was difficult to tell if he was at all excited. I mean, he wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t hanging totally limp either.
Next to be put on the Wheel was a rather large-breasted dark-haired girl who looked like she had ethnic roots in the Mediterranean. Her Mistress called her puttana, which, I think, is the Italian equivalent of the Spanish puta and probably means slut or whore or something like that.
She was shaven or plucked or something between the legs, but she had a bit of a five o’clock shadow there and also on her upper lip. I don’t know how really hairy women ever get things stripped clean. I don’t have much hair and it’s a constant struggle for me. Master says he would pay for permanent removal, but I don’t want to do anything that I can’t reverse later if I want to. Maybe that’s the same reason I don’t have any tattoos. I might not want them later and then what do you do? If I got electrolysis and then decided that I wanted a crotch rug, I’d be shit out of luck.
The sixth slave was a typical proper old-school-English looking young miss. She was rail thin with mousey brown hair and almost no tits. Her Master came up onto the platform with her and before they began strapping her to the Wheel he said, “One last time, are you willing to submit to this punishment? Once the Wheel starts to turn there is no safe word. You must endure the punishment until it ends.”
Herr Dunkler called up from the ground where he was standing, “Yes, yes, that was all explained to her.”
The Master called back curtly, “I know it was. I want to give her one last chance to accept the alternative.”
“And what is that?” the Dark Lord asked.
“She has been unfaithful to me,” the Master said. “She can leave with her lover or she can stay and endure the Wheel.
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