Ye Olde Water Faire

by The Technician

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© Copyright 2020 - The Technician - Used by permission

Storycodes: Machine/f; fpov; susp; edgeplay; dunking; dunk-tank; carnival; naked; public; cons; X

Continues from

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Slave pumpkin butt continues her posts about the Water Faire.

In this segment of Ye Olde Water Faire, slave puta rides the carousel. 

The Water Faire is a BDSM sales Faire run by a mysterious Hans Dunkler. There are four major events at the Faire, the Dolphin Ride, The Carousel, The Race, and the Ferris Wheel. The four segments stand more or less on their own but make much more sense if you read them in order.

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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 or 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.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician ([email protected]).

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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Event 2: The Carousel

Slave puta ran ahead of us to the Carousel. When we got there, Master went up to Herr Dunkler and handed him an envelope. The Dark Lord– that’s what Dunklermeister, his full name, means– The Dark Lord held it in his hand for a moment and then said with a smile. “I know that you aren’t planning on buying any of my major offerings this year. Why don’t I allow your slave to ride on the Carousel and the Ferris Wheel for free this year and we will call it even?”

“That is very generous of you,” Master said as he put the envelope back in his pocket. I hadn’t realized that the Master or Mistress had to pay for their slaves to “ride” Herr Dunkler’s machines. I would love to know how much it was, but that isn’t something a slave asks her Master.

Herr Dunkler’s smile left his face for a moment, then he looked down at me, smiled again, and said, “I’m just glad that the little glitch in my new Dolphins didn’t damage your property.”

Somehow his smile didn’t look very friendly. I tried not to show irritation that he called me “property.” I guess that’s what I am, but I would rather he call me “slave.” At least a slave is still human. Besides, property can’t decide it no longer wants to be owned... not that I would ever do that, but I do have a safe word and an escape word. If Master does something that I can’t handle I just have to say “Halloween,” and we stop and talk about it. If Master ever turns evil or something like that, or I grow weary of the slave life, all I have to do is say “Jack-o’-lantern” and technically, I am no longer his slave. I’m not sure what I would do if he didn’t honor my escape word, but there are numbers I can call for help if I ever need it.

The carousel is a HUGE machine. The top of it looks like a regular merry-go-round carousel except it is about three stories in the air. And instead of horses hanging down, there are cables with naked slaves on them. Some of the slaves are men, some are women, and some are a little hard to tell. Mistress Diana’s slave useless was already standing on the ground attached to a cable. She calls it useless because it was once a he, but all the male equipment is gone. So he doesn’t have a prick or balls or tits or cunt. According to Mistress Diana, who runs a rather specialized house of entertainment, “He is just useless.”

Actually that isn’t true. Some of Mistress Diana’s customers– male or female– pay extra to fuck a true eunuch. Maybe he gets off being called useless... if it is possible for a eunuch to get off.

We walked around the Carousel until we found puta. She, like the other eight slaves, was standing between two big steel tanks. The fat twins in the overly-tight Speedos were strapping her into the strange restraint. The top portion looked like an ordinary spreader-suspension bar. Her hands were placed in long cloth restraint cuffs that came about half-way up... down... to her elbows. 

Then her ankles were strapped to a big, square spreader bar that looked like a 4X4 fence post except it was made of metal. She was standing on top of it and her feet were in these thick cloth boot sort of restraints that held her tight to the metal bar. Master told me that the purpose of the bar of metal was so that the carousel rider would drop immediately to the bottom of the tank.

The way the Carousel works is that once all nine of the slaves are strapped into place, they are blindfolded and lifted into the air. Then the Carousel rotates for a while until suddenly they are dropped into one of the tanks of water.

That would be scary enough for me, but some of the tanks are filled with ice-cold water, some are filled with just right bath temperature water, and some are filled with water that is just below the temperature that would scald your skin. You don’t know which tank you are dropping into until your feet go into the water.

Each slave is given a safe word for the Carousel. That word is “failure.” If they want things to stop, they have to yell out “Failure! Failure! Failure!” It is not only humiliating to have to yell out those words, but it also proclaims that you have failed your master. Once the Carousel starts, it keeps going until all but one of the slaves has safed out.

If I were allowed to bet, I would bet on puta. She has won the Carousel the last two years because she is the purest painslut I have ever seen. She once told me that Master saved her life in more than one way. He took her away from some evil men who would possibly have killed her, and... he made her his slave.

“If he hadn’t made me his slave,” she told me, “I would have long ago destroyed myself.” She almost cried as she said, “I can’t help it. I would just keep seeking out pain of one sort or another until I went too far.”

I told her I understood, but I don’t really. I’m not attracted to pain. I would never destroy myself that way. I am a slut who is sort of addicted to sex, however, and was in a really destructive relationship with a man who said he loved me but only wanted to be my pimp and make money off my body. One day he tried to pimp me out to the man I would come to know as Master. I was thin and ragged and probably had all sorts of diseases and, yes, I was taking every kind of drug I could get my hands on. Master had a “conversation” with Raul and took me home with him. He got me treated by some really good doctors and got my weight back up to where it should be and had several conversations with me– real talk-with-me conversations– about my drug use. After I was clean, healthy, and happy for the first time in years, he told me that he would pay for any education I needed and would help me start on a new life. I told him that I wanted to stay with him as his slave like precious and pepper. He hadn’t gotten puta yet and pepper hadn’t yet forced him to sell her.

I took off all my clothes and knelt at his feet with my head on the ground and my hands almost touching his shoes. Then I said, “I am your loyal slave. I submit to you as my Master.”

Master said he wouldn’t accept me as his slave until I knew for sure what I was getting into. He taught me about safe words and escape words and gave me a number to memorize. He said it was a special number from something called “The Society” and if I ever needed help to call it. He said that when he finally gave me a name, it would mean that he accepted me as his slave. Six months later he named me pumpkin butt and we changed my safe word from “red” to “Halloween”. We also agreed on the escape word of “Jack-o’-lantern”.

That was six years ago. I sometimes don’t understand what Master gets out of our arrangement– other than really good sex whenever he wants it. He must get pleasure ordering me around or keeping me naked or just “owning” me. I think he loves me... but not in the way that he loves precious and she loves him.

While I was daydreaming, the music on the Carousel started and all nine slaves were pulled up into the air. The cables went all the way up to the top and then lowered back down until the slave’s foot restraint / weight bar was just an inch or two off the ground. Tweedledee and Tweedledum walked quickly around looking at where the slaves were hanging. Then both held up their hands in a thumbs up and the slaves once more rose into the air.

The music played and the Carousel rotated around. The slaves were going up and down on the cables, but staying a couple feet above the tops of the tanks. Then the music stopped and the slaves dropped really fast into one of the tanks. Most of the slaves screamed on the way down, but I could hear puta’s voice and, I think, two others going “Weeeeee” in joy on the way down like they were enjoying a roller coaster.

There were big glass windows on the front of the tanks so you could see the slave splash into the water and drop to the bottom. A blond slave dropped into the tank we were standing in front of. As soon as her feet hit the water, she screamed really loud. Master stepped forward and put his hand against the metal of the tank. “Cold,” he said. “Puta wouldn’t like that.”

The slave barely got to the bottom of the tank when she was again pulled back into the air. The Carousel music started again and everything rotated for just a little while. Then the music stopped and the slaves again dropped into the tanks. This time it was a girl with really dark, black skin who dropped into the cold tank. She had no hair at all, at least I couldn’t see any hair anywhere on her body. She screamed even louder than the blond girl had.

Master looked over at precious and me and said, “She must have come from one of the hot tanks. Going from almost scalding to almost freezing is a terrible shock to the system.”

He motioned for us to follow him and we started walking around the circle with Master reaching out and feeling the tanks as we passed. We moved down four tanks before Master said, “Hot.” Then he stepped back and said, “Watch this.”

We stood there while the Carousel rotated and then the slaves dropped once again. This time it was an overly-tan slave girl also with absolutely no hair whatsoever. Maybe she had her eyelashes, but there were definitely no eyebrows. She started screaming, “Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!” and was still screaming as her head went under the water.

When she came back up, she was coughing and spitting water out of her mouth. She hadn’t even gotten to the top before she started screaming, “Failure! Failure! Failure!” She rose a little higher than the other slaves and there was a loud click as her cables locked into place.

Master said softly, “Don’t judge her as soft, she might have been dunked into freezing water the first two times and her body thought she was being parboiled when she went into the hot tank. You get used to something and your body thinks that is normal. Then when it changes, you judge what is happening compared to what you expected.”

“Like when you softly rub my ass sometimes when you are spanking me,” I replied. “That makes the next spank seem so much harder.”

“Exactly,” Master replied.

The next slave to drop into the hot tank was puta. She gave a big sigh and cried out, “Aaaaaahhh” as she went under the water. I don’t know if she had just come from a hot tank and it wasn’t that much of a shock or if she had come from a freezing tank and was enjoying the pain. She is sometimes very hard to figure out, but then, aren’t we all?

Master had us move again until we stopped in front of what he called a “warm” tank. He had me and precious feel the steel of the tank. Then he asked, “Is that water hot or cold?”

I didn’t know what he meant, but precious said, “It would depend on whether you just came from a freezing tank or a scalding one.”

Master smiled at her and said, “You are my precious.” I sometimes wish he would smile at me that way.

We continued to walk around the outside of the tanks as the Carousel rotated and dropped the slaves into water. One of the slaves appeared to be hanging unconscious so the Carousel stopped and she was lowered to the ground. The fat twins ran up and released her arms and the cable went back up to the top. While they released her feet from the weight, the Carousel started again. The music was playing as they hurried her to the doctor’s tent. I heard later that she was OK, she had just fainted or something.

After a while it was down to just three slaves going up and down– the hairless slave with very black skin, a rather thin nordic type, and puta. Slave puta was still calling out “Weeeeee” as they dropped, but she didn’t sound quite as enthusiastic about it.

After a couple more cycles I could see that Master had a strange look on his face. His mouth was very straight and rigid as he said harshly, “He’s cheating.”

I didn’t say anything, but precious said, “What do you mean?”

“No wonder he refused my entry fee,” Master said almost angrily. “He didn’t want puta to win every time so he is cheating to break her.” His face suddenly went very blank and expressionless and he said very softly and calmly, “If he harms her...” He let it drop at that, but I wouldn’t want to be Herr Dunkler if something happened to puta.

His face returned to the rigid mask and he said in a very controlled tone, “He’s making sure that puta drops into a freezing tank every time. He knows she hates the cold and thinks it will break her.”

It did. It took four more cycles. She was shivering violently as the Carousel rotated and was silent as it dropped her into one more tank of freezing water. As soon as her head came back above the water, she started calling out, “Failure, Failure, Failure.” She wasn’t yelling. I don’t think she was able to. Then she started crying.

I expected her to go back up to the top and stay there, but the next cycle she was dropped with the other two slaves. It was the tank that I knew was filled with warm water. When she came back out of the tank she again called out “Failure!” This time she was yelling, and this time she did go to the top and stay there.

It took three more cycles for one of the other two slaves to break. I was watching where they were being dropped and now they were going from freezing tank to hot tank to freezing tank. I expected the black girl to break first, but it was the thin nordic who called out “Failure!” after her third time in a row going from ice to heat or heat to ice.

As soon as the slaves were lowered back to the ground, Master ran over to where puta was hanging. I don’t know where he got it, but he wrapped a blanket around her. Then he told precious, “Take her over to the food tent. It is warm there. Buy her something warm to drink with a lot of sugar in it.” Then he looked like he did that day when he took me from Raul and he said, “I have to talk to Herr Dunkler.”

I walked with him as he went over to where the Dark Lord was paying off bets. He waited patiently until everyone had been paid off, then stepped up and held out his hand so that two fingers were touching Herr Dunkler’s chest. He was smiling, but the rest of his face was dead. And his eyes looked like they could burn through you. “Mister Donaldson,” he said very softly and slowly. When Herr Dunkler’s eyes went wide he said, “Yes, I know your true name. And I know where your ski house is in Austria and where you live in Switzerland. And if you ever intentionally put one of my slaves in danger again, I will hunt you down and I will destroy you. Do you understand me?”

Herr Dunkler was visibly shaking. “Don’t worry, Master,” he said in perfect English with no trace of a German accent, “it will never happen again.”

“I trust it won’t,” Master said as he turned and walked away. I had to practically run to keep up with him as he hurried over to the food tent.

When we got there, puta was huddled in the blanket drinking a cup of tea. “It’s about half sugar,” precious said. “The man behind the counter objected to how much sugar I was using, but I told him you would explain.”

Master squatted down and puta sobbed out, “I’m sorry, Master, I couldn’t stand it and I broke. Don’t be upset with me.”

Master’s face now showed his concern. “Don’t worry, puta,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault. Herr Dunkler cheated because he didn’t want you to win, but I talked to him. He won’t do that again.”

In response, puta gave him a very crooked grin and sipped more of her tea.

“If you want,” he said to puta, “we can leave now.”

“And miss the Ferris Wheel?” she replied, brightening. “I usually enjoy the Carousel, but the Ferris Wheel always pops my cork at least twice.”

Master laughed and said, “You stay here and warm up, then. My precious will stay with you while I go watch pumpkin swim in the race.”

He turned to me and said, “You’d better run along and get ready for the race. Remember, you don’t have to win, but you don’t want to lose.”

He didn’t have to remind me of that. I had swum in the race twice before and have seen what happens to the losers.

Continues in

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Wayne Mitchell “The Technician”

[email protected]

See my published books at

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