The Underground Vixens of Ballbreaker Pass - Part 4a

Part 4 - Spinning the Wheel

Bringing buckets of water, the women drenched Pete's undulating form to rinse away grey goo, then carried him out suspended by four limbs. For the first time, Pete entered room number four, where he was reunited with Jack Hutch. 

Here were the other two wagon wheels, both still attached to their axles. They'd been rigged so that the axles were set horizontally into grooved, wooden stands and counter-weighted with heavy rocks bundled by rope netting. These bundled rocks were suspended by one strand of rope from each bundle, looped over the axles at opposite ends to the wheels. This made the wheels stand vertical with their lowest edge about ten inches off the cave floor. The wooden stands holding them, along with the bundled counter-weights, allowed the wheels to spin just as if they were attached to the wagon from which they'd come. 

"Howdy, Pete," Jack chuckled. "Did you eat lots of that grey shit?" His light-hearted question was asked from a seemingly dire predicament: Jack Hutch, stripped naked, was bound to one of the wheels. 

His legs were spread wide and ankles extended just outside the rim, his legs secured by ropes wrapped around his shins and through spokes of the wheel. Also tied in ropes were Jack's wrists. With his hands folded behind his head and wrists bound together, another rope secured his wrists to the rim of the wheel, leaving the crown of his head to rest against the palms of his hands. 

And as if this bondage wasn’t precarious enough, Jack Hutch was upside down. With his buttocks covering the center hub, causing his pelvis to be thrust forward, Jack's naked body was inverted while his healthy scrotum hung handsomely vulnerable. His cock also hung exposed. And speaking of handsome, gravity brought this old man’s fuck tool in a straight line down his belly clear past his belly button. That’s not all. His scraggly beard was gone, shaven clean, and with this new appearance Jack Hutch looked to be mid-forties at most. 

"Well, no need to answer," Jack laughed while focusing on Pete's engorged cock. "I can see you’ve done been dunked."

"Upright him," Celeste ordered. "Having fun, Jack?"

"You know it, mama. I aim to please."

"Ok, girls," Mrs. Nehi barked. "String that one up like this one." 

Pete Radcliffe was fixed to the second wheel, bound in the same manner as Jack in an upright positon.

"Get ready for a wild ride, son." Jack smiled. 

"I'm afraid to ask you, Jack, but what the hell is this all about?"

"This here cave's got four rooms that we know of, Pete. There's the waitin' room where you met me; the welcome room where you got to wrestle; the skinny dippin' room where you got dunked; and this."

"What's this? The torture room?" Pete gazed to his male companion, as the females tied the final knot of his ropes. 

Jack laughed, "Well, maybe, dependin' on how you wanna look at it."

"Ok, I get it. You can't tell me."

Both men looked at one another. Two men, separated by about six feet, bodies spread wide, turned upright and vertically bound to their wheels, Jack and Pete scanned each other's naked bodies. 

"No, Pete, I can't say anything. Don't wanna scare you."

Jack's impressive tool pointed straight forward, piercing nearly eight inches of air, while Pete's, surprisingly to him, also remained as hard as when he'd left the dunking room. Being with Jack comforted Pete. He figured that regardless of whatever tortures lay ahead for him, at least Jack had been through and survived them. More importantly, Pete felt a bond with this man. For whatever reason, Jack’s presence allayed his fears. He‘d guided Pete through one mysterious ordeal after another and Pete reckoned that as long as they were together they could handle whatever punishments these vixens cared to throw at them. 

He tested the ropes and their knots, flexing and straining to see if they'd give. Of course, they didn't, but his efforts certainly excited his spectators. Pete's masculine form, still defiant, bound and helpless with manly tool primed for action caused a stir amongst the ladies. His body still glistened with a combination of water and sweat, his dark brown hair sparkling with tiny beads from the top of his head to the tops of his feet. With Pete performing as the lust-crazed, masculine beast he was, 80 female hands self-massaged 40 female pussies. With Jack joining Pete to display his own strength, clenching his scrotum to make his cock bob up and down and wave to the ladies, 40 fingers fingered 40 clits and 40 streams of vaginal juices began to trickle.

After two wooden stools were placed on the floor in front of Pete, Celeste tapped the shoulder of the youngster, Josie. This pretty brunette stepped up with one foot on each, then took Pete's throbbing cock into her hand, holding it steady while she covered him with her pussy hole. Finally, Pete felt the loving warmth of a vibrating vagina. She clinched her interior muscles to squeeze his pulsating pole, then threw back her arms, locking her hands behind her head. 

Sarah, the muscular blond, spun the wheel. Pete spun with it. Two voices, one male and one female, let out slight whimpers, as a tantalizing sensation stirred their innards. Sarah increased the speed of revolution. One turn outpaced the next, as animalistic howls echoed from one rock wall to another. Pete's body became a blur, while Josie arched her back and thrust forward her pelvis, driving Pete's frantically rotating cock into her pussy for maximum penetration. 

For Pete, the penis wasn't the only thing spinning. His head became lighter than air and all vision became white. All he could feel was the indescribable ecstasy of this rotating fuck. Spinning friction of warm wetness consumed and lifted him to a frenzied state of unbridled masculinity. 

Two voices cried out words of English, "Oh, god; holy shit," coupled with sounds and utterances known only to sexual climax, as man and woman spewed their orgasmic fluids, dual eruptions and emotions never before felt.  

Sarah let go the handle. Revolutions slowed. Pete's body stopped with his feet up and head down. Ecstatic moans filled the room, as Josie withdrew her pussy, uncovered Pete's cock and stepped down from the stools. Reaching for the rim, Josie turned the wheel to bring Pete upright, where he gasped for air, hypnotized with lust. 

"There ya are, Pete," Jack's voice of joy brought everybody back to reality. "This here's the milking room, but there ain't no cow teats to milk - just man dicks."

"That's right, young man," Celeste joined in. "And that's exactly what we're going to do. Marjorie, you're next."

Still primed and ready, Pete's poker again was covered by another salivating pussy hole and the wheel turned to produce the next psychotic, wall-crumbling, double-orgasmic explosion of animal sounds and human creams.

They left him upright, chest heaving, with manly tool still primed for action. 
"Lookin' good, Pete," Jack chuckled. "I think you'll be makin' up for those three years of nothing to fuck, you fornicatin' he-man."

Contrary to what should have been, Pete felt like a sex-crazed, nut-busting maniac. He expanded his chest, sucked in his belly and thrust forward his cock while grunting like a caveman, “Ugh… bring it on, woman."

Celeste prompted Bridget to take a ride on the spinning cock, but as she mounted Pete and Sarah turned the handle, Josie dropped to her knees in tears. 

"Momma, I did a bad thing."

Celeste comforted her daughter, lifting Josie to stand while her other daughter shrieked with delights of spinning Pete-meat. "What is it, my darling?"

"I put my fingers in that hole." She pointed to Sarah. "I put my tongue in there, too."

"Yes, Josie, that is bad, but only because you and Sarah did not ask me first. You have confessed. You are forgiven."

As Josie walked away, Marjorie took her place to confess all of her sins, following it up with a pleading. "Momma, you've got to let Pete go. He's the most amazing man we could ever hope for. Please stop torturing him."

"All right, dear. You're a good girl. We're not torturing Pete. Look at him. He's a happy man."

Indeed he was. With a third orgasm completed and cock aching for another round, Pete writhed in a frenetic ecstasy. He looked to his buddy. "Shit, Jack. Ain't you gonna get some?"

"I don't know, Pete. What about it, Celeste? Send one of them old birds up here. I'm ready to go."

"You old lecher," she bellowed. "You're always ready to go."

She directed an old one to step up for a ride on Jack's pole, but had a surprise for Pete. "Bring in our prisoner."

end of 4a