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.”