Her Cycle · Part 1

Her Cycle · Part 1 (1/2)
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Kelara was intelligent. With a high aptitude for learning from a young age, along with a vivid imagination, those who knew her growing up would have proclaimed her a genius. In some ways, she was. Kelara was able to deduce and discover things that the vast majority of her peers would have never succeeded in doing, and further, she loved to craft. By the time Kelara was a young adult, she had already done something that only the rare and talented mage had ever accomplished. Kelara had tamed lightning, and she'd done this without a drop of magic in her veins.

The key was metal. It was widely known that if one were to rub their feet across the wool carpets and proceed to touch a metal handle, they would be shocked. Few in her town ever really wondered why, except Kelara. She was quick to deduce that for whatever reason, lightning preferred to flow along metal similar to how rivers liked to flow along land. She reasoned the act of rubbing her feet across wool generated very small amounts of lightning. She supposed it made sense why lightning leapt from the sky during storms, if the clouds were made of wool.

Taking this knowledge, Kelara set out to create lightning. While she was quick to figure out that rotating a sphere across a wool surface worked better than rubbing her hands back and forth, it took extensive testing to discover a glass sphere worked the best to produce shocks most quickly. Far far longer did it take Kelara to discover how to store her lightning. However one night, after returning from the local tavern, she stumbled upon a breakthrough using the bottle of booze in her hand.

Drunk as she was, she decided perhaps a bottle could store lightning as well as it could store alcohol. It was a wild idea, but at this point she was out of them. Kelara took a very thin sheet of metal and wrapped it around the glass, hoping to trick the lightning into going inside. Figuring she needed an easy path for it to travel in, she drove a nail through the cork. She left the alcohol inside simply because she didn't have a handy place to put it. Besides, when this didn't work she wanted to finish it.

With the final touch of a metal chain hooked around the nail head, then draped over a wooden beam to rest upon the glass sphere, Kelara began to spin the glass ball over the wool with one hand while holding the bottle in the other.

She spun and spun the ball, not seeing any lightning what-so-ever. Eventually she gave up. Kelara set the bottle upon the table, and pulled the chain down from the overhead beam. As she did so, the chain fell and came in contact with the thin metal sheet wrapped around the bottle. A sudden flash and a 'crack!' like lightning made the girl jump. Her hand knocked the glass off of the table where it shattered on the stone floor below, but Kelara wasn't upset at her lost beverage. She was grinning ear to ear, realizing she had just done the impossible. Kelara had created and stored lightning.

This new alchemy – tamed lightning – spread across the land like wildfire. However, as is unfortunately typical, the one who made the original discovery was not the one who primarily profited from it. Kelara's genius was stolen and replicated. It was refined into better versions, and implemented into crude machines that could make use of such charge. From all of this, Kelara saw not an ounce of gold. Whilst upset, the girl moved on. Greater and brighter inventions awaited, and she would make sure she was properly rewarded for these.

As such, Kelara began working in secret, alone. Her solitude offered privacy and increased productivity, but as she spent further time in her workshop her social life slowly suffocated. Kelara would wake up early, shutting the barn doors behind her at the crack of dawn, only to emerge after the sun had long set when she would return home and crash into bed. Over time as this cycle repeated, her friends grew distant. Eventually, to avoid the trips to and from the house, she moved her bed into the workshop. Ample covers kept her warm during the cold nights.

Kelara repaired things to earn an income, but in her free time she crafted gadgets. She learned which metals allowed lighting to flow the strongest. She learned that some metals put out bright light when enough lightning was pushed through, while other materials seemed to slow this flow down. She learned that a warm heat could be created with similar configurations. Kelara devised a simple lever meant to allow or stop all flow of lighting depending if it was open or closed. She expanded upon this with a spring to create what she called a 'pusher', which had to be held down for the lightning to flow. Kelara even came up with a device that, when powered with lightning, would prevent lightning from traveling out of her bottles, and otherwise allow it. This device, she called an inverter.

However, without fail, after each and every discovery Kelara made, she would emerge from her workshop only to find someone else had invented her device already. The world around her was moving too fast, and the poor girl just couldn't keep up. It was incredibly frustrating, but she pressed on. This cycle continued, until one day she didn't emerge from bed. Instead, she simply lay there, defeated. The direction she was pursuing was already being pursued. She needed to come up with something new, completely new, which had never been pursued before.

This was much harder said, than done.

As Kelara lay in her bed, alone and secluded, her hands began to wander. This wasn't the first time she'd explored her own body, slipping them beneath her shirt and across the peaks of her breasts. It wasn't the first time she'd slid one hand low, under her waistband and into the wet valley between her legs. She had done this many times before, the frequency of which had been growing as her frustrations with her failed work ever mounted. This time however, as Kelara's fingers slipped in and out of her in the same way they always did, the girl began to crave something new. Her slick fingers were removed, and her eyes opened. She surveyed her workshop with a creative curiosity.

Kelara located her broom. The handle itself was long and tubular, however the awkward length and threat of splinters drove the girl to search elsewhere. She next came across a metal pipe of similar girth. This was shorter and easier to wield, but the pipe was hollow and the edges were sharp. She needed something better suited for such a task. She needed something… malleable. Her lustful eyes landed upon a lump of clay.

At this point, she was fully dedicated. Determined in her quest to create the perfect substitute for her fingers, she grabbed the clay and began to work it. A long tube was rolled and thickened. She added the clay in layers, increasing the mass until she reached a size that satisfied her. Quickly she brought the object to her furnace and placed it inside to cook. However, now she had to wait several hours. With her patience now low, and her neediness high, Kelara succumbed to her bed again. Her writhes of pleasure were driven by the same hands as before, but this time her mind was filled with steamy possibilities.

The clay rod worked wonderfully, once it had properly cooled. Kelara had tested it out as soon as she was able. Twice that morning she eagerly approached her bedside where her new toy awaited, and twice she left in a satisfied bliss. It was a new, beautiful cycle for Kelara that she participated in at least once each day. She found that on the mornings she did not, her mind was nothing but foggy and wanting. Yet after some time of repeating this routine, she once again began craving more. So Kelara pursued a new experience.

She rolled and molded dozens of clay rods in various shapes and sizes, lengths and girths. Some of them were less like rods than others. She tried adding a curve. She tried bumps and ribbed surfaces. She tried stranger shapes that were still smooth but irregular in the ways they narrowed and widened. Dozens were cooked and tested. During one rather ambitious crafting session, she made two rods that were overly large. Her thinking had been hazy from her cravings at that time, so after satisfying herself and later pulling these from the oven, she became too weary to try them out. Kelara was fearful they would stretch her too far. They were dumped into a box and forgotten. She had plenty others to pick from, anyway.

This variety satisfied Kelara for some time, however, there was one recurring problem. When she lay in bed using these wonderful clay rods, her wrists and arm would sometimes grow tired. Kelara wished to feel the rod moving in and out of her quickly without such exertions. Being the wonderful problem solver she was, Kelara set out to make a device.

It didn't take long for the clever girl to realize she could use a wheel. One metal rod, shorter than the wheel's radius, would be attached to an off center position along the spokes with an extremely short length of rope. This rope gave the rod just enough slack to turn and rotate. A second rod, this one longer, would be fastened to the other end of the first using rope in a similar manner. The rope would grip notches on the rods to prevent slippage, and therefore keep the ends close together with just enough slack. This configuration allowed the shorter rod to push and pull the other as the wheel turned.

This wheel stood upright and was set into a wooden chassis. The axles were lubricated, allowing it to spin smoothly. The longer metal rod was inserted through a short tube fixed to this chassis. This would keep the second rod moving along only one axis. As the wheel turned, the first, shorter rod pushed and pulled the longer one. Kelara observed with keen interest just how fast she could get the machine to thrust.

Stirrups were added to the wheel next so her feet could do the work. Atop the chassis a soft woolen seat with a hole cut through its center was mounted. Kelara devised a way to screw her clay rods onto the metal rod of her thrusting device, and made measurements such that the shaped clay emerged through the seat properly. At the apex of its height she would have nearly the full length of the clay buried inside of her; at the lowest, only the tip of the rod would remain inserted.

The night that her machine was completed was the night her mind shattered. The machine was perfect, far more effective than she could have imagined. Her eyes rolled back. She shook and spasmed so hard that her feet slipped out of the stirrups. Kelara barely caught herself before she tumbled sideways onto the floor. She didn’t want to injure herself during her sessions, so it seemed there was certainly room for some safety improvements.

In order to ensure she remained on the seat and to prevent any falls, Kelara added several belts. When secured, two thick straps of leather would hug her upper thighs and keep her hips down on the seat. Her knees were left free to allow her to churn the wheel, but her feet would be strapped tightly into the stirrups to prevent any slippage. To ensure she remained upright, two more leather straps were added. These were designed to go above and below her breasts, keeping her back up against a seat back she’d installed.

Beyond this, Kelara modified the device to make the seat slightly adjustable, up and down by roughly one inch. Her collection of clay rods came in various sizes, and she found that some were more effective if she seated herself lower, while others required her to raise the seat higher. All of these modifications to her machine worked wonderfully, and Kelara found herself frequently held by the snug embrace of leather straps as she eagerly spun the wheel beneath her.

One day, Kelara left her workshop. She traveled to the town market, and then took a carriage out to the nearest city. She purchased board at an inn, and then the next morning she took another carriage out to a settlement further away. Kelara searched as she traveled from place to place. She visited every nearby market she could find and looked for any vendor selling a device like hers… and she found none. Once again, Kelara had imagined and created something wholly unique. She'd devised something no other mind had. This realization filled her with eager excitement. She had something new she could sell and claim as hers! No longer would she need to make boring repairs to get by. She could instead sell her machine and make a mountain of gold!

However, not quite yet. Kelara had learned from her previous mistake. Her first invention had been crude, and she’d spouted about her creation of tame lightning to all that would listen. It allowed others to steal her idea and revise it. Thus they were the ones to profit. She would not fall victim to this. She would improve upon the machine until it was perfect. Only then would she haul it into the city to sell to claim her fortune. So, Kelara returned home.

For the next several weeks, Kelara worked hard. She modified, tested, redesigned, and added onto her contraption. With each trial run, she strived for a better experience with stronger sensations, and with each iteration she delivered on this. By the time the final device was finished, it looked vastly different. No longer was it a crude amalgamation of parts and pieces she’d found lying around. Now it was a well made, purpose built machine capable of doing so much more.

City markets operated on something of a cycle, and the first of the month was almost always the day of highest traffic. On this morning she purchased a carriage and hauled her contraption into the city. She kept it covered with one of her largest blankets as she rolled it on a cart into the middle of the square. Kelara found no trouble gathering an initial crowd; the large and mysterious contraption drew curiosity by itself as she worked under the blanket to ready it for display. Kelara placed a number of spare parts and excess items off to the side, so she could fix anything that broke as needed. Then, she yanked off the blanket to reveal her genius to all in the land.

The sight of such a device evoked confusion. The citizens of the city knew not what they were looking at, so Kelara tried to explain. She showed off the strangely shaped clay rods and held up the safety straps along the seat of the device. With one hand, she turned the wheel with attached stirrups, and the rope gears she added turned two smaller wheels behind it. Two rods thrust up and down through the seat at different speeds. Due to the way Kelara had geared them, the front thrusting rod was approximately 2.69 times faster than the back one.

The young woman continued, attempting to explain how the glass ball below turned in tune with the main wheel, and that the woolen pelt it rubbed upon would generate tamed lightning through the dainty chain draped over top. She traced her fingers along this lightning chain, as she called it, demonstrating the flow to where it would become trapped in bottles mounted to the back of the seat. She pointed to a simple yet ingenious tension contraption. There was rope stuffed into a groove along the circumference of the back-most wheel, and the wood inside of this groove had been left purposefully rough so that it could lightly grab the rope as the wheel turned.

A weight attached to the rope at the front of the wheel kept the rope from slipping out of this groove, and the back was attached to a spring. When the wheels turned, the rough groove would pull upon the rope, stretching the spring slightly. This stretch was enough to pull a metal contact point away from the metal conduits of her lightning bottles. If the wheels ever became too slow, the spring would drag the rope back and the two pieces of metal would make contact and lightning would be released.

Once again she traced further thin chains that extended from the bottles. Lightning chains attached to the outside of the bottles ran to the seat where metal plates were exposed and meant to come in contact with the rider’s legs. Other chains were attached to the nails of the jars, and carefully routed away from the others where they hung loose at the sides of the seat back. The ends of these dainty chains could be stuck to the rider’s body with sticky sap-paper, which would hold the chains in place.

Kelara reached into a box beside her and pulled out two strings with loops on one end, tied to clothes pins at the other. She draped this string over a horizontal bar mounted in front of the seat, which hovered at chest height above where Kelara’s mid thighs would be. The woman took two small metal balls with hooks wielded to the top, and hung these weights from the loop in the strings. She tried to explain that gravity would pull upon whatever the clothespins gripped.

Finally, Kelara turned her attention to the wooden stocks she’d mounted at the top of the device. These stocks had three holes, all facing upwards, one the rider’s neck and two for each wrist. They were lined with soft leather for comfort, but were tight enough to remain secure. The door to the stocks swung open horizontally on a hinge, and when swung closed, a spring-loaded clasp on the other side would snap shut to prevent the stocks from simply swinging back open. Lastly, at the front center of these stocks was a short rail. Kelara pulled an attachment out of the box. This attachment could be slid along the metal rail sitting in front of the rider’s face.

Connected to this attachment was one of her shorter clay rods, wrapped in a thick layer of leather. Kelara had found that during testing, it was beneficial to have something she could bite down upon when shocked. She also just liked the way it felt to have something long and hard shoved into her mouth.

However, throughout her long winded demonstration, her onlookers slowly began to dissipate. None of them were imaginative enough to grasp how all of these concepts would work together. Laying eyes upon the thinning crowd, Kelara grew desperate. They needed to see. They needed to understand. If they didn't, no one would make a purchase and all of her work would be for nothing!

Quickly, Kelara crouched down. She unscrewed the two clay rods from the device and set them to the side. She ensured her skirt was out of the way as she took a seat upon her contraption. Kelara buckled the safety straps, one along each of her upper thighs. She bent forwards and strapped her f

Her Cycle · Part 1 (1/2)
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