Her Cycle · Part 2 (2/2)
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eet into the stirrups. Kelara buckled a safety strap across her abdomen, and then reached up to slip her arms into two straps that hugged her shoulders, and ran beneath her armpits. All were tightened to be snug.
Kelara rested her neck in the groove of the wooden stocks. She closed it around her neck and the spring loaded clasp clicked shut. She left her arms free, warning the remaining crowd that if the rider was solo, she should not put her wrists in as she would be unable to release the clasp. Instead, she grabbed one of the hanging chains in her palm for demonstration purposes. Now that she was properly seated, Kelara began to pump her feet to turn the wheel.
The empty rods below thrust up and down. At their apex they pushed into the holes of the seat but did not tap against Kelara’s crotch. The metal rods increased and slowed in speed dependent on how fast she moved her legs, however they always moved at the same ratio to one another, creating that irregular cycle of movement Kelara had learned to crave. The glass ball also connected via rope gears, spun steadily against the wool. It generated lighting to trap in the bottles behind her, though this wasn't highlighted until Kelara stopped turning the wheel. She clenched her jaw, bracing herself for a sharp shock, and she yelped when the crack of tamed lightning sounded behind her, and the jolt leapt into her hand. Kelara began pumping her legs again, and rope was pulled, stretching the string to separate the metal contact points. The lightning stopped discharging.
By this time, it had become clear to everyone in the square just exactly what this device did. Many women turned to leave, red in the face, and the few mothers ushered away their children. Some however, stayed, and Kelara’s audience began to grow a little again. Mostly males were now gathered, looking at Kelara and her machine with intense intrigue and interest. There were also a handful of females that remained, the majority of whom had blush stained cheeks and distant eyes, glazed over from the images they were now imagining.
Kelara grinned as some of the onlookers walked closer. Finally they understood. She could see the greed in their eyes and she could almost feel the gold that would be weighing her bag during the long trip home. One male bent down and picked up the looped strings she'd shown off prior. Another picked up the supplemental biting attachment and walked around behind her. It was hard for Kelara to see him, as the way she was strapped in prevented her from turning her torso to look. The man behind unclasped the stock’s fastener, and swung the end open. He slid the leather wrapped mouth rod onto the rails, finding that it clicked in place thanks to another spring loaded fastener.
Kelara was appreciative of their interest, but she really wished they wouldn’t put their hands on her merchandise before purchasing. She parted her lips to politely ask them to set these things down, but only a gasp was heard as a third, unseen man grabbed her wrists from behind. The male who had just clicked the mouth attachment in, reached down and ripped Kelara’s panties off. Swiftly he wrapped them around the mouth rod as Kelara protested and tugged at the man holding her wrists. Then the one holding the stocks reached out and twisted her nipple hard. The woman cried out from the pain, opening her mouth wide. Kelara's hands were pulled into their respective slots along the stocks and then the thing was slammed shut.
The leather padded rod filled her mouth, pressing her tongue down. The metal clasp clicked closed, out of reach of Kelara's fingers. The undergarment stolen from between her legs were shamefully wet from her demonstrations, and she could taste her own arousal as it was pressed onto her tongue. She tried to spit it out, but the leather mouthpiece was too wide for her to do so. The tip tickled the back of her throat, and made her gag if she didn’t lean her head completely back. Kelara cried out, trying to form the words required to request their halt, but the only sounds she made were unintelligible mumbles.
The woman's top was ripped open after. Clothespins were clamped over her nipples and she flinched at the sharp pinch. The strings tied to these were draped over the horizontal bar mounted in front of her, and small metal weights were hung from the loops. Kelara emitted a muffled cry as the man added a few more weights, more than she'd ever dared suffer during her tests. She arched her chest forwards to relieve some of the strain on her nipples, and the straps holding her stomach and shoulder bit into her. Kelara was successful in extending the string enough to allow the weights to rest on her thighs, removing the pain from her nipples. However, leaning forwards like this, the rod in her mouth pressed into her throat. The woman gagged and pulled her chest back. Kelara now had to choose between a terrible pain in her nipples, and triggering her gag reflex.
It was at this time the men attached the lightning chains to her body. While Kelara couldn't look down to see them doing it, she recognized the feeling of the sap-paper. She knew exactly what it was that they'd stuck to her. Two were placed upon the outsides of her breasts. Then to her horror, two more were placed against her inner thighs, on either side of her womanhood. She tried to shake her head frantically, but the rod lodged deep into her mouth didn’t leave much room for her to move, and shaking like this was causing the weights on her nipples to bounce and jangle.
One of the males picked up a box lying next to her. Rummaging through it, he found her extensive collection of clay rods. Kelara was hysterical when the male, predictably, pulled out the two largest options he could find. These were the rods Kelara hadn't yet dared to try. The ones she should have thrown into the river instead of lugging around like a keepsake. One man held the main wheel still, preventing Kelara from turning it with her legs, while the other knelt down beside her. The wheel was rotated so the back metal rod was at its lowest point. The other man took the first giant clay rod and pushed it upwards into the back-most seat hole.
Kelara felt the tip pushing against her anus. She squeezed as hard as she could, fighting against its entry, but the man was applying the stronger force. He worked the tip into her rear, stretching her hole wide. The clay rod that he had chosen was the one that grew girthy and then thin, like bulbs skewered on a rod, repeating a total of four times along the massive length. Once the tip slipped inside and her rectum stretched around the widest part of the first bulb, her ass sucked it the rest of the way inside. Kelara could feel the rod spinning inside of her as the man screwed it into the base. After several twists, the back insert was securely installed.
Kelara squirmed when the other man turned the main wheel. Slowly the second bulbous head pushed its way into her rectum. Once again, half way up her ass sucked it the rest of the way inside. Kelara felt her rectum stretch and close along each of the large bumps as the thing was gradually driven fully into her. Sparks of pleasure danced across the back of her skull and she clenched her jaw, squeezing some of the juices out of her panties. The saliva that had been pooling in her mouth began to dribble out and drip down her chin.
Kelara knew what was next, and soon enough she felt something huge pressing against her nether lips. With how lubricated she was, the tip of this rod had little issue slipping inside. It stretched her walls tightly, and again she felt it twist within her as the man secured it to the machine. Kelara tried to counteract the man this time, but her legs were no match against his massive arms. The main wheel turned once more. As the rod slid inside of her, Kelara could feel in great detail every bump and rib she had added along its length. She cursed herself for being so through in the crafting process.
As the front rod inched its way into her, the back one slowly pulled out. Kelara shuttered at the wonderful feeling, and the men forced the wheel to turn several revolutions just to make sure everything was functioning properly. Judging by the way Kelara was drooling, they figured it was. Now that the device and Kelara were ready, the men stood and admired their work.
Kelara was impaled upon two massive intruders. Her hips were sealed to the bottom of the seat with leather straps and her feet were fastened into the stirrups. The poor woman was forced to choose between pressing her back against the chair and enduring the heavy pull on her nipples, or leaning forward, arching her back, and suppressing her gag reflex to grant her breasts some relief. Her arms were held up beside her head; the stocks kept her neck and wrists trapped within. Any words or pleas she tried to form were muffled by the large rod stuffed into her mouth, accompanied by her ripe panties pressing against her tongue.
Kelara was trapped and at the mercy of her device, but nothing else happened. She refused to pump the wheel. The lightning chains that dangled over her attached to her breasts and crotch, were dormant. There was no built up charge yet. Kelara knew if she began pumping that wheel, she wouldn’t be able to stop.
The crowd around her began to grow upset. They were waiting for a show, but her legs refused to move. The bottle had to be charged each session, and that required a bit of work. It was a safety mechanism she had left in place to ensure that only a small amount of tame lightning would build up in the bottles. It would be enough to incentivise movement, but also enough for her to endure for a few moments until the charge ran out. She considered herself lucky, because she had almost brought charged bottles with her. However, that feeling of luck was quickly sunk.
A man emerged from the crowd, and with him he carried a bottle. She recognized it immediately. It was a bottle of lightning that he promised was fully charged. It was a stolen version of Kelara's invention, here to do her in. Her eyes flew open wide and he trotted to the center of the square. The woman fought against her restraints as he inspected her device to determine how the bottles were meant to be replaced. She thrashed as he quickly deduced this, removing one of the bottles behind her and sliding in in the new one. He held the tension mechanism as he did to prevent premature discharge, but as soon as he let go, Kelara’s muscles flexed and her entire body tried to arc.
The woman cried out at the lightning that flowed into her tits and crotch. It burned like a hot fire. The fully charged bottle was far stronger than Kelara had ever played with, and she quickly began pumping her legs and tears welled up in her eyes.
The burning fire of the had lightning stopped, but it was replaced by the sensation of two over-sized intruders thrusting steadily in and out of her. The feeling was almost painful, yet slowly it shifted into something highly pleasurable. Her body shuddered as she was stuffed full over and over. The vibrations from the machine as it worked were causing the strings attached to her nipples to vibrate too. The weights swung lightly in front of her, sending sharp pains and confusingly odd pleasures into her stretched breasts. Kelara leaned forward, gagging a little as the tip of the mouth rod pushed past her tonsils. She was only able to hold this position for a few seconds before she pulled those cursed weights into the air again.
The drool that slipped from her mouth was beginning to puddle upon the surface of the stocks that trapped her neck and wrists. Kelara's toes curled and her stomach tightened. Despite her desperate desire to escape this torture device, she had been growing very horny. Now that the rods were pumping, Kelara was yet again being delivered an experience she'd never before had. Her arousal had begun to skyrocket because she knew she couldn’t stop. Not unless she wanted to feel that blinding pain of lightning once more.
Kelara moaned as the machine churned and creaked. She thrashed a bit in one moment, wanting to be free, and she trembled in the next as those giant clay rods continued their cycle. In and out they thrust. The bulbous humps of her anal intruder raked along her rectum, stretching it wide over and over. The ribs and bumps she'd given the vaginal insert were felt in full, and practically vibrated her walls as it thrust up and down at a higher speed. The glass ball crackled with lightning below as it charged the other bottles, ensuring that Kelara would never be without its fiery sting. She could feel it coming. The orgasm building within her was looming. She tried to stave it off. She didn't want to give satisfaction to this perverted crowd that smiled and watched her struggles with wide, glistening eyes. It was inevitable though, and she knew it.
Once more in desperation, Kelara thrashed against her bonds. As hard as she could she shook the device. This shake was the final straw for the overused and worn out wooden pins along her adjustable seat. This seat and adjuster had been installed in the device since the beginning, and over so many trial runs, they were long ready to give. It was at this moment they did. Suddenly, Kelara's body dropped as her seat’s adjuster mechanism snapped. The seat fell from the highest setting to its lowest adjustment. The distance wasn't all that far. From the outside it looked like she'd dropped maybe an inch, but with her largest clay rods pounding into her, that was an inch that Kelara could feel.
She almost stopped pumping the wheel, but caught herself before she was shocked. Kelara rode on. Those giant rods were now reaching into her deepest recesses, the tip just tapping the end of her tunnel. With the climax she had been holding off, that increased inch of penetration drove Kelara wild. She exploded. She saw stars as her eyes rolled back. Her body wracked in her binds, and drool spilled from her mouth. Her mind went blank and her body shook as she orgasmed hard, both of her holes gripping those clay rods for dear life. Kelara felt pure, toe tingling bliss race up her spine. Then in the next moment, that sensation was interrupted by pure, scorching fire.
Lightning coursed through Kelara's body the instant she stopped pumping. Her eyes flew open and she screamed into her gag. She jolted forwards and choked, then slammed her body back against the seat, causing her nipple weights to bounce up and down. The hot pain of her tamed lightning burned against her breasts and pussy. Tears amassed in her eyes as she frantically began pumping again.
Her amazing, wonderful, mind blowing orgasm had just been ruined. It had been ripped out from under her like a rug, and dumped her mind far from the lustful fog that had previously enveloped her. Kelara had to pump. She couldn't stop. Kelara did NOT want to feel that pain again.
And so, she continued. She pumped that wheel as the surrounding crowd ogled her predicament. Kelara drove the thrusts of those girthy intruders as they cycled in and out of her sensitive holes. She put on a show, the wildest show any of the citizens of that city had ever seen and one they would truly never forget. Kelara did it because she had to. She did it to avoid the punishment of the lightning, but she also did it in chase of that high. That sweet, wonderful bliss of the orgasm that she so desperately desired, driven by an arousal that somehow, despite her horrible situation, was as heightened as it had ever been.
Kelara came. She came again and again, over and over. Sometimes she kept pumping her legs, sometimes she slipped up and was punished with the excruciating, hot bite of her lightning. After each climax, ruined or enjoyed, she continued to pump. Every orgasm she experienced left her more exhausted than the last. Her thighs burned, but not nearly as badly as that lightning. Her holes were raw from friction, but still those intruders flooded her brain with pleasure. She wasn't sure if she'd become blind to the taste of her own juices, or if she'd simply drooled enough to completely wash her panties out.
By the third or fourth orgasm, members of the crowd had come to join her. The men took turns freeing their throbbing bulges, and stroking their cocks around her. Each one eventually came, and when they did, they slung warm, white semen all over Kelara's body. Some of it hit her in the face, other strands landed across her breasts or in her hair. Some landed upon her legs and thighs, and one male took the effort to cum into Kelara’s hands before wiping his cock off on her face. She could feel his sticky seed forming strands between her fingers, but she couldn’t see it. By this point Kelara had so much cum dripping down her brow that she was forced to keep both of her eyes closed.
Her clothes were eventually stripped from her and the semen that covered and soaked into them was freshly replaced. By the seventh orgasm (or was it nine?) the young woman was completely naked. She was wearing nothing but her chair. She was spat upon, ejaculated on, cock slapped, and laughed at.
All that she needed was one single person. One decent human from that crowd to walk over and release the metal clasp on her stocks. If she could just get one person to do that, she could reach behind her and rip that bottled lighting off of the chair. Kelara needed one kind soul to put a stop to this cruelty. Yet she couldn’t call out to ask. Her mouth was stuffed, and the only ones that volunteered to step forwards were the ones that subsequently dropped their pants.
Kelara was a sweaty, cummy, exhausted mess. She was stuck in the center of a cruel city, trapped in a cycle of her own devious creation. She came and she screamed and she cried and she came. She pumped her legs and shook against her bonds. For all in the city to see, she relentlessly worked the mechanical cycle she sat upon. Her cycle. That cycle she'd so lovingly crafted – so foolishly completed – now tormented her without an end in sight. She cursed unintelligibly, eyes hidden behind closed lids directed up towards the sky – but the only one she could truly curse was herself. She'd done this, and now she had to endure it.
Kelara spammed as another orgasmic wave crashed through her. She’d lost count as to what number this one was, and still she continued to ride.
Her Cycle · Part 2 (2/2)
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