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The Great Wheel
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
In those days, fathers theatened to send disobedient daughters "to work
for the Prince"...and the threat was sufficient to induce trembling
compliance. Everyone had heard of the Great Wheel that turned, dawn to
dusk, in the massive courtyard of the Prince's palace. Nor could anyone
claim ignorance of the Wheel Guard, who scoured the land at planting and
at harvest for the fairest, fullest, naughtiest maidens, to make the Wheel
turn. Ben, youngest son of Clan Ethor, had seen it once, and the village
never tired of the telling.
It lay horizontal on a fulcrum, it was near as wide as a quarter field,
was made of rare black timber and edged with silver. The Great Wheel
turned a smaller stone wheel that ground diamonds into dust to brighten
the Queen's hair. And the Great Wheel was turned by the Horse Maidens.
Shafts of ebony extended out from the Wheel's rim, and an elaborate system
of leather tack and silver fittings attached each Maiden to her shaft.
The Maidens were naked, except for the harness, some baubles, and a pair
of black leather shoes with high, slender, silver-tipped heels. They were
being led out of their stable into the sweet pink light of dawn when Ben
first saw them, forty of them, led five at a time by Wheel Guards holding
leads attached to the Maidens' bridles. The tack was wonderful, each
bridle decorated differently, but each with a small silver rolling bit
fitted gently between the Maiden's lips. They stood quietly, a little
distance from the Wheel, their eyes cast down, and the Guard dropped their
leads between the Maidens' beautifully shod feet. A stableboy appeared,
carrying a silver tray full of small porcelain pots, each filled with
scented oil. Each Guard took one pot, and began to move among the
Maidens, dipping his hand and carefully spreading oil over each body,
taking great care to lightly but fully cover their breasts and bellies and
bottoms and cunnies. Finished, they were led to the Wheel, eyes still
down, but hips rolling with the movement caused by the wearing of the
spike-heeled shoes. Their nipples stood hard from the Guards' rubbing,
and fragrant drops of oil glittered like jewels nestled in their
cunnyhair. Each was led to her shaft and, once there, extended her arms
for the shackles.
Wide bands of black leather, supple and crested with the Prince's Coat-of
Arms, were attached to each wrist and just below each elbow. A small
silver ring dangled from the bottom of each shackle; matching silver
latches were bolted to the ebony shaft in front of her. At a command, the
Horse Maidens stood to attention, then moved their dainty feet a good
distance apart. Quickly, the Guards moved among them again, this time
attaching spreader bars between their oiled legs, slipping the ends of the
bars into slots in the leather cuffs that encircled the legs just above
the knee. Sixteen inches exactly. The silver spreaders slid into place
and were locked. The Horse Maidens stood, some weeping silently, unable
to hide the treasures of bottom and puss.
Another bark from the Guards, and the Maidens bent forward from the waist,
resting their arms, hands pointed to each other, fingers nearly touching,
along the length of the ebony shaft in front of her. The silver latches
were quickly locked to the shackle rings, and the Maidens were held fast.
Ben expected the Wheel to start up immediately, but there was more! Ten
Guards emerged from the Wheelhouse carrying more leather straps...these
were slender, with silver buckles...and a brace of stiff pheasant
feathers. They moved around the Wheel, stopping at each shaft to buckle
straps around oiled thighs, inserting a stiff feather, pointed up, into
the strap on the inside of each thigh, measuring the length of the feather
carefully. When the Wheel was engaged, each Maiden must walk forward,
bent from the waist, unable to close her legs to preserve her modesty.
And with each step, the stiff tips of the feathers would brush gently
against her exposed pussylips, tickling the small pearl hidden in their
folds.
In moments after the Wheel began to turn, Maidens would softly moan, would
buck a bit, or round her hips to try for relief. And that is when the
Guard warmed to its' task!
As a Maiden was spotted in such behavior, a Guard hurried to her shaft,
drawing, on his way, a pearwood switch from the bales near the Wheel.
"See if this pleases you, Maiden!" he would roar as he drew back his arm.
HsssssssTHWIP...the switch was laid smartly across her bare, upturned
bottom. "Aaahhhggg!" Her scream, muffled by the silver bit, was
nevertheless heart-rending, her head strained back against the constraints
of the bridle, and her bottom heaved. HssssTHWIP, hssssssTHWIP!!! As Ben
watched, his loins bursting, the air of the courtyard filled with the
sounds of screeching, bucking Maidens, the grinding of the Wheel, the hiss
of the switch...he watched the sun glisten on their oiled and sweating
bodies, their breasts swinging, their bottoms red and trembling, laced
with the thin, burning tracks of the switches.
Every now and then, a Maiden would become too overwrought to go on. She
was, at a Guard's signal, unbuckled and led to a shady corner of the
courtyard to be milked. Once there, she was bent over more deeply, and
her wrist shackles were attached to latches imbedded in a granite boulder.
The spreader bar was not removed. A specially trained Guard called a
Milker was summoned. The Maiden usually wept when she saw him, whether
from fear or relief Ben could not say. First, of course, she had to be
punished for stopping the Wheel. Without preamble, the Milker removed his
leather belt, stepped back, and amid her entreaties for mercy, delivered
fifteen expertly laid-down strokes across the plumpest part of her blazing
bottom. Then he chose the sturdiest of the switches from the closest
bale...and fifteen again, the switch hissing and spitting across her
scarlet cheeks and up and down her ivory thighs. She was howling and
bucking, pleading though the bit for an end...but the Milker's expert eye
also saw the gathering dew at the lips of her cunny.
"Now, Maiden," he growled, "give me a drink!!" He crouched behind and
beneath her and attached his mouth to her swollen puss. She was beyond
humiliation, shrieking and bucking as his long tongue knifed into her
again and again. "Oh OH OOOHHH!!!" she moaned, tossing her head so that
the tiny silver bells on her bridle jingled. "Oh please, Sir, relief!!!"
"All right!" he gasped, "The sooner to get you back to work!!" He heaved
himself up and stood behind her, unleashing his thick and rigid cock.
"Here then..." he rammed it home, shaking her with the force of his thrust
and drawing another scream. His right arm encircled her, and his fingers
easily found her glowing pearl. Expertly, he fondled and teased the
swollen bud as his cock drove into her again and again, his rough thighs
scraping her switch-tender bottom. "Then COME, you brazen whore!!" he
growled into her back as his balls exploded, throwing ropes of hot spunk
into her. She threw back her head and rent the sky with her scream of
release. She staggered, sobbing, and he steadied her, his hand dripping
with her pearly essence. "Then thank me, Maiden," he whispered, pulling
the bit free of her mouth, as he slipped his softening cock, still covered
with her, between her lips. "Lick clean the symbol of your oppression!"
He waited until she had cleaned his cock and balls with her hot tongue;
then, adjusting himself into his clothes, took her lead, replaced the bit,
and led her back to her shaft. As he buckled her down, he saw another
Maiden shudder and stumble, and he motioned a fellow Guard to the other
side of the Wheel... need for another Milker.
Ben fell gasping to the ground, soaked with sweat and his own juice.
This, he thought, would make a ripe tale!
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