Trouble in Fairyland 3: Handed to the Wheel

by Cropsncuffs

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2012 - Cropsncuffs - Used by permission

Storycodes: FM+/f+; captives; bond; rope; susp; cage; cart; bdsm; straps; majick; entrap; torment; climax; reluct/nc; X

(story continues from )

Chapter 3: Handed to the Wheel.

My arms ached. My back ached. Damn it all even my legs ached but there was no respite for us. With every lurch of that cart we were flung from left to right and every stretched sinew screamed its disapproval.

We of course had no choice in the matter. Our cries had been silenced by huge ring gags forced behind our teeth by a web of black leather straps that made our voices their prisoner. Wide black leather cuffs encircled our wrists and dragged them high above our heads where they were tied tightly to the crude wooden poles that made up the roof of the Golliwogs crude but utterly effective cage tumbrel.

Half a dozen of Bo Peeps sheep had been harnessed to pull the rough cage that we were being transported in. Every rotation of those huge wooden wheels was completed to the accompaniment of a terrible creaking sound that grated on the ears with every mile covered and just added to our torment.

I was drooling now as that gag kept my mouth open, and all I could hear behind me were the gentle sobs of Bo Peep. Captured by the Golliwogs before Big Bad Wolf made me his prisoner, now we were both being take to Old Mother Hubbard, the finest purveyor of flesh in Fairyland.


I tried to cry out as the left-hand wheel dipped into a particularly nasty rut and we were both hurled to one side. Our wrists hauled up to the roof of the cage had been forced to stand on our tiptoes until our calves screamed in agony. Somewhere behind me Bo Beep whimpered pitifully past her ring gag and I felt the tears begin to well up in my own big blue eyes. No matter what way I looked at our predicament, we were trapped with no way out.

The cart turned a corner in the road and I could suddenly see our destination. Mother Hubbard’s smallholding. A place of torment and slavery where the tiny form of Old Mother Hubbard dispensed discipline and slavery for a small but very specific clientele. A clientele prepared to pay well for very specific merchandise. And I could see two examples of her merchandise already in stock as the cart rolled erratically into her yard.

A tanned woman with the most incredible head of deep auburn hair was tied tightly naked between two tall poles. I watched as she struggled fruitlessly, only her hands able to move so tightly was she spread. She was hurling abuse at a muscular woman in jodhpurs and spike heeled ankle boots who was standing behind her clutching a riding crop.

With a supple flexing of her body the woman cracked the whip across the restrained woman’s tightly tensed arse cheeks and she screamed. A thin red line was briefly visible before the curtain of thick fell back into place and hid the glorious arse from our view. Then the abuse flew again. I had spent years as Big Bad Wolfs lover and even I had not heard language like that.

The woman in the jodhpurs strutted around her victim and grabbed and handful of that hair and proceeded to jam it between her victims lips. Before the spread-eagled woman could spit it out the woman forced more and more into her mouth until her cheeks bulged and no matter how much she shook her head her mouth remained stuffed and gagged.

“Now bitch” the woman with the whip hissed in her face “You will learn to behave or I shall use things far worse than this whip to break you, do you understand ?”

The restrained woman was glaring back when the woman with the whip spotted us rolling into view and called out to Mother Hubbard.

As the cart drew to a halt Old Mother Hubbard emerged from her house and walked slowly round our mobile prison. She was a tiny, trim figure with fading red hair worn in curls and a figure tightly controlled by a leather corset and covered by a surprisingly demure black skirt that fell to her ankles to leave only a glimpse of feet shod with spike heeled shoes that clattered on the stone flags as she walked. In her hand she carried an evil looking cane carpet beater that could have only one purpose.

“Well, well” she said softly “What have we here” She smiled up at us and I could see the bags of gold clicking over in her mind. “Hi Red” she called up to me “Glad to see Big Bad was as good as his word. I thought you were going to be the hardest to bring in, but he was right. The offer of a nice big bit of cock and you’re anybody’s” Without my voice all I could do was glare at her, but a terrible part of me knew she was right. I may still have my Red Riding hood, but Little I wasn’t any more. “And Bo Peep as well” she cried out “My my but this is going to be a good day. Now I have the full set.”

I didn’t like the sound of that one little bit. Without another word she gestured for the Golliwogs to follow her and the wagon began its creaking way across the yard taking us away to our fate.

Standing in the middle of the yard was a bizarre piece of machinery. The central pole stood some ten feet tall and four long metal poles radiated from the central pole. From each pole dangled a long chain which ended in a tangled mass of leather straps that hung menacingly some three feet above the ground.

Divining the purpose of the device would have been difficult had it not been for the fact one of those bundles of leather was already occupied. Poor pale Snow White was already the prisoner of one of those dangling masses of straps and buckles.

Her wide, fear filled eyes had watched our approach from above a leather gag that covered the lower half of her pretty face from the moment we had creaked into view. Tears were running down her face as she realised that possibly her last chance of rescue had just rolled into view in a bondage and terrible as her own.

Old Mother Hubbard gestured to the apparatus and smiled at our horrified expressions.

“I do believe a tired slave is a compliant one my dears, so this fiendish device will be the first part of your training. I call it my exercise wheel, and it will break you I assure you.”

The muscular woman in jodhpurs appeared at Old Mother Hubbard’s shoulder with a smile on her face.

“It’s my finest work” she said simply “I enchanted it to our very specific requirements”

Old Mother Hubbard slipped her arm around the shapely waist of the younger woman and cuddled up to her.

“This is Denise” she said simply “She is my tame Sexchantress. And she can do things with her magic you just cannot imagine”

Denise returned the cuddling embrace and I felt my flesh creep. I could see any faint hope I might have harboured of splitting them apart for an escape had died in my mind before it had even began.

“It is a very special device” said Old Mother Hubbard as she reached out a hand towards the nearest of the dangling bundles of straps. To my utter amazement I watched as a leather cuff leapt from the apparently inert bundle and made a grab for her wrist. Old Mother Hubbard snatched her inviting wrist away from the snapping cuff with a laugh.

“Once imprisoned here the walker will exercise you to exhaustion. Well, exhaustion if you are lucky, but let’s not tell you all the fun things that await you”

She gestured to the Golliwogs and the door was abruptly hauled open. Stubby black fingers pawed at Bo Peep’s bindings and suddenly she was outside. Tormented beyond endurance by their journey her legs crumpled beneath her. Her gag was hauled from her mouth and she let out a wail of misery as her mouth closed and her jaw muscles howled at her.

Dragged to her feet by rough hands she was shoved towards the dangling bundle of straps. I could feel my eyes widen with horror at what happened next. The moment her body touched the apparently inert bundle it sprang into life. Bo Peep let out a scream as a mass of leather straps momentarily thrashed about then grabbed her, wrapping themselves about her body.

I watched as she fought them with what little remained of her strength but there were too many for her. Straps and buckles slipped together and deftly fastened themselves, pulling themselves tight about her tender flesh.

I watched in fascinated horror as those straps pulled themselves tighter and tighter while Bo Peep cried out for help. A help she must have known was never going to come. I could hear Old Mother Hubbard and Denise laughing in delight.

Bo Peep squealed as a strap rolled between her legs and pulled itself wickedly tight against her womanhood. Then she was pleading, and her pleas turned to cries for help again as a strap rolled out from behind her head and across her mouth. I could see the strap slipping through a buckle amongst her blonde curls and moments later her cries were reduced to whimpers as the leather strap pulled itself tight about her lips, and then her pleas were no more.

Then all eyes turned on me and I know what was coming next. Rough hands hauled me from my cage and as my poor stretched body screamed at me I was abruptly being shoved across the uneven ground towards my fate.

I could feel the tears running down my face as the bundle of straps opened to greet me, but I resolved not to go pleading to my fate. I thrust my arms out before me and stepped boldly forwards into the embrace of that swirling mass of leather.

I heard myself gasp as they wrapped themselves about me, caressing, squeezing, gripping me in a way only a lover could. I felt the buckles pulling tight, my arms being wrapped about my body until I was tightly embracing myself. I suddenly heard myself purring softly as the smell of the leather wafted to my nose and the treacherous, naughty part of Red Riding Hood I kept hidden deep inside rose to the surface. I always hated to admit it, but I liked a little bondage. In fact, as Big Bad Wolf had found to my cost, I liked it a lot of bondage.

I saw a red ball dangling in front of my face, taunting me, teasing me, and I just could not resist. I parted my big red lips part and I kissed the ball. My tongue danced across its smooth surface, caressing it before tipping it into my mouth and closing my lips about it.

It swelled swiftly behind my teeth in my mouth, quickly pinning my tongue to the floor of my mouth while leather straps darted about my head and under my chin, pulling my mouth closed tighter and tighter until there was no hope of my expelling it until my ordeal was over.

Old Mother Hubbard was watching me closely and she applauded as she watched my submission to her machine. Denise walked around the machine with a slow, measured tread, carefully inspecting our poor restrained bodies with a less than professional eye. There was lust behind those blue eyes and I dreaded to think what ideas could be running through the mind of the Sexchantress.

Then an idea blossomed in my mind. Glancing across at Bo Peep our eyes met and I could see she had formed the same idea. We had not become Faiyland legends without a certain amount of naked animal cunning and we were both thinking the same thing. We simply had to be.

Denise was walking away from the wheel towards the woman with the mighty tresses and we could see the last bundle of straps start to rustle and twitch as she passed close by. I glanced at Bo Peep again and she gave a tiny nod.

As one person we gave a shove and the arms of the wheel shifted round on well lubricated bearings. Old Mother Hubbard cried out a warning as the bundle of leather straps swung round and lunged for Denise.

She let out a scream as she felt the first of the straps slip about her throat and pull itself tight. Her arms thrashed about as strap after strap darted about her body and pulled itself tight. A strap pulled itself tight between her teeth and her screams were reduced to helpless mewlings as the machine did its terrible enchanted work. I watched with a smile on my lips as her arms were pinned against muscular thighs and soon all I could see moving were her terrified blue eyes.

Then, with a deep creaking sound, the Wheel’s arms began to move, dragging us forwards. And with every pace we discovered a terrible secret about our bindings. Innocent enough at first glance they had all cunning arranged themselves in places where they would rub with every step. Not that I should have expected anything different from a Sexchantress I suppose.

I glanced down and saw a strap rubbing affectionately up against one of my nipples and just knew my sensitive breast would soon respond as only it knew how. And the strap between my legs appeared to have sprouted a buckle in a most intimate spot.

As I staggered slowly onwards, my calves still complaining loudly I glanced across to Bo Peep whose eyes were wide with shock, and it took me a moment to spot the net of small straps tight across her chest that were actively pinching and pulling at her milky breasts with every pace she took.

If my pace dropped the other three occupants of the wheel pressed me on allowing me no respite from my sexual torment. I could see Snow White in front of me, a tight straps parting her buttocks that had to be rubbing her womanhood with every step she took.

The yard of Old Mother Hubbard’s smallholding was silent except for the creek of the wheel and the soft whimpering of it’s prisoners as they fought the rising orgasms that we all knew would come eventually as the machine tormented us on and on. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Denise glaring at me with a fire in her eyes as she was walked like the rest of us. I could see her magnificent breasts spilling out of the white blouse she wore deeply unbuttoned, their nipples erect as her body responded to the wide strap I could see forced up between her legs. That first collar strap about her throat forced her head high so all she could do was stare at me and something told me I was going to suffer when we were finally released.

As the pace finally slowed, leaving us all post-orgasmic sweaty wrecks I heard a sound I had heard before. The rolling of steel-shod wheels on the hard surface of the road. Hoping against hope that there might be a hope of rescue I hauled up my head and felt my raging blood chill.

Standing in the yard was a dark coach with an ornate heraldic device on the door. The heraldic device of our titular ruler known to one and all as the Evil Queen.

You can also leave feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum


story continues in